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⛥ﾟ・。 sample

synopsis: prequel to pocus -- katakuri's dreams of you come to a head when he learns that the two of you are already engaged to be married. and to make matters worse, your ex-boyfriend makes a rather unpleasant appearance while the sweet commander is picking up his order of doughnuts.

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is katakuri, KATAKURI DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, he is twenty-one, you are twenty, for context smoothie is eight, your ex is an asshole, katakuri's got it baaad.

a/n: good golly this man is fine

"C-Commander!" you mewled, the pillow under your hips slipping under Katakuri's relentless pace.

His blunt nails dug into the flesh of your hips, a smirk rising to his lips at the way you were already gone.

His hand roamed your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggled with each of his powerful thrusts.

Perfect... plump... round...

Seeing you bend over the ovens at your bakery, he knew it would be.

But seeing it for himself?

Squeezing tighter, he kneaded the supple flesh, strengthening his hold as he adopted a quicker, rougher pace.

"O-Oh, yes! Ngh! Kuri-Kuri f-fuck," you keened, the air in your lungs slowly but surely leaving you. "Feels s'good!"

Your cries drifted far past the room, so far that the Sweet General was sure the servants within the maid's quarters could hear them.

But he wanted you louder.

He wanted you shrieking.

He had wanted this for so long, wanted to feel the way you fit him.

Wanted to hear the way you spoke his name wrapped in pleasure.

Everything of you, he wanted.

Needed.

Katakuri needed you.

Somehow, he'd managed to hold out for this long, but his luck wouldn't last with the way you were clawing the comforter, moans rising as he switched angles.

But in an instant, it was all snatched away.

Breathless, Katakuri shot straight up in his bed, heart thundering in his chest.

Swallowing thickly, he quickly glanced down at his lap, his cum hot and sticky against his skin, and his half-chubbed length angrily confined by his boxers.

It happened again...

A faint flush of pink rose to his cheeks at the sight, the Yonko commander swiftly brought back to the countless other nights where he had awoken to the same scene.

There was something about you, something about your presence that instantly returned him to his teen years—where an ass and a couple of moans could make him cum in his pants.

God, this was wrong.

You were so kind, so sweet, yet his dreams consisted of nothing but ruining you for any and every other man to follow him.

Unable and unwilling to reckon with what your image had just done to him, he settled for flopping back on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a blank, annoyed look.

How the hell was he going to face you tomorrow?

"Ah, Commander!" you beamed, warmly waving to the man as he entered through your large door. "I was just about to send Kota."

Quickly, you scurried toward your display case, pulling out the tray with ten, normal-sized doughnuts of varying flavors.

"I've got the samples you ordered right here. Freshly glazed."

Silently, the man nodded, fighting off the flush threatening to rise to his ears as he crossed his arms over his chest.

He avoided all eye contact with you, making a point to look anywhere but your smiling face as he leaned against the wall.

Every time he met your gaze, images of last night would flash in mind, further adding to the pit of guilt already sinking in his chest for thinking of you in such a way.

It made him feel dirty, and suddenly undeserving of your kindness

"Kota, come box these up for me, yeah?" you called, your young apprentice quickly scurrying to your aid.

"Yes, ma'am!" he nodded, carefully taking the tray before returning to the back room

His eagerness made you smile, the sight intensifying the rhythm of Katakuri's heartbeat as he watched you return to your work.

"I know it's not your usual, but I think you'll like the new blueberry lemon doughnut I made this morning," you attempted to strike up a conversation, going back to glazing the rest of the morning's doughnuts. "Smoothie came by earlier and said it's her favorite so far."

Katakuri hummed, seemingly uninterested in what you had to say as he glanced around your huge bakery—the size was accommodating to commoners as well as those of his height.

Confused, your face slightly fell, unsure of what you did to warrant such a cold response.

Sure, the Minister of Flour was not the warmest person you'd ever met, but he certainly wasn't this icy.

Especially not to you.

You figured the both of you were far past this stage, having gone through the whole "stoic and silent" rigmarole months ago.

It took ages to get the Minister of Flour to warm up to you even a little bit, but when he did?

The change was like night and day.

He turned off his observation haki for the first time in...well, who knows how long.

He allowed himself to participate in easy conversation.

Hell, once you could've swore he let out a quiet chuckle at a joke you made.

But all of that seemed to be completely gone now, as if it were never there.

You were one of the Big Mom Pirate's closest and most trusted personal bakers, so you had dealt with your fair share of volatile personalities.

But his was odd, even for a Charlotte.

Just then, the bell on your door let out a delightful little jingle, snapping both yours and Katakuri's attention to the familiar face walking in.

Your eyes went wide, before your brows quickly furrowed in an unsavory scowl.

"Get out."

At that, the man laughed, amused by your somewhat poor attempt at intimidation.

"That's how it is? No hello or how are ya?" he sneered, slowly walking up to the counter.

"Get the hell out of here, Gino! I told you I never wanted to see your face again!"

"(y/n)... baby... c'mon... you really meant tha—?"

"Every damn word," you swiftly answered, taking a large, tentative step back as he continued to approach. "Don't come any closer!"

"Or what? You'll bake me to death? Turn me into a jelly doughnut?" he smirked, mockingly.

You scoffed, quickly turning around and rushing into the backroom, "Kota! Get my bat!"

Annoyed, Gino let out a harsh sigh, moving to lean against the counter before glancing at the Sweet Commander.

"Women, amiright?" he griped, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb in your direction. "All this drama for what? Gimme a few minutes to talk and she'll be crawlin' back in no time."

He chuckled to himself, seemingly proud of this "fact".

"She always does."

A vein bulged in Katakuri's forehead at the statement, the furrow in his brows deepening and muscles tightening in an instant.

As he watched your interaction, he waited patiently, gauging your reaction to the man and the danger level in order to plan his response accordingly.

'Looks like they had some sort of romantic relationship... an ex-boyfriend, perhaps?'

Audibly, you were rummaging around in storage, frantically searching for your father's prized baseball bat.

'If she feels such a need to arm herself, then he must have a history of violent behavior... an interaction like this must've turned physical before.'

The man's jaw clenched at the thought, a certain feeling bubbling in his stomach the he had never felt before.

It made him want to gag and flay Gino's remains after a Mochi-flavored beat-down.

'It's settled then.'

"Hey, I just realized... aren't you the—?"

Without hesitation, Katakuri cut off his sentence, his mochi arm wrapping tightly around the scumbag's neck before hoisting him in the air and dragging him forward, until he was finally at his level.

"I am only going to say this once. Fail to follow direction and I will not hesitate to kill you along with your entire family... understand?"

Frantically, the man nodded, utterly wracked with fear.

"Good... now, when I release you, you are going to take the first ship off Whole Cake, continuing to travel on until you make it to Cacao Island. There, you will effectively leave Mama's territory and begin your pitiful attempt at surviving in the New World without her protection."

His grip tightened, further constricting the man's airflow as he continued on.

"If you do not get on that ship, I will know. If you turn around, I will know. If you do not reach Cacao Island by the end of the day, I will know."

Suddenly, an imaged of you flashed in his mind, reminding him of the ultimate reason for his fury.

"And if you so much as look at... think of... or utter my fiancée's name in my presence again... I will see to it personally that your body is put six feet under the ground."

Pulling him closer, Katakuri didn't stop until his face was right in front of Gino's, his fiery, ruby red eyes blazing fiercer than the pits of hell.

See, what Gino couldn't have possibly known was that last night the Sweet Commander had attended an emergency summons from his mother, where he learned that he was engaged to be married to one of Whole Cake Island's most eligible bachlorettes.

You.

Of course, it was a strictly political contract between his mother and your father, and given your rather normal reaction to seeing him in the shop today, he figured your father had failed to tell you yet about the arrangement.

But even still... he now had a responsibility to you.

A responsibility he would not take lightly.

"Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?"

Unable to speak, Gino simply nodded in agreement, practically paralyzed with fear.

With that response, Katakuri swiftly tossed him to the ground, allowing the man to scurry to his feet like the vermin he was.

"Good... now get out of my sight."

The Sweet Commander didn't even fully finish his sentence before Gino was already on the run, sprinting toward the nearest port like a madman.

The sight almost brought a smile to Katakuri's face, were it not for his haki predicting your well-timed approach.

"All right, asshole, you wanna try me now!" you spat, bursting from the backroom with bat in hand.

But, to your surprise, your ex-boyfriend was nowhere to be found, only Katakuri remaining within your small lobby.

"Huh? Where'd he go?" you asked, raising a brow in confusion.

"Away," he answered, curtly, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

"Damn... I really wanted to use this on him..."

"Commander Katakuri, sir!" Kota rushed forward, running out from behind the counter before presenting the man your signature box. "Your sample doughnuts, as requested. I apologize for the wait."

Taking them, he offered a thankful nod, carefully tucking them against his side.

"No need. I understand the... odd circumstances," slowly, his gaze turned to you, his expression somehow turning more serious than it already was. "But doughnuts aren't all I came here for."

For the first time in a long time, nerves seemed to be fluttering in his belly, rendering him partially immobile under your soft gaze.

But he was doing what had to be done.

A woman deserved to know she was getting married before the day of her wedding.

And a woman deserved to know why.

"(y/n)... you and I need to talk... Alone."

"I accept!"

redraw of my older art from few months ago

i wanna talk about this shot

First Franky of 2025!! I been meaning to post this one since last month, but I’ve been busy being depressed and lonely and playing marvel rivals.

⛥ﾟ・。 merienda

synopsis: prequel two to pocus -- a year into your marriage to the minister of flour, and you two had failed to progress past that of acquaintances. so, to liven things up, you decide to deliver your husband's daily tea in a rather scanty outfit, hoping to ignite a spark... only to discover his deep, dark secret.

cw: fluff, comfort, angst if you squint, katakuri is a bit socially awkward, KATAKURI DOES NOT PLAY ABT YOU, he is now twenty-two, you are now twenty-one, katakuri's got it BAD, reader's kind of a baddie.

a/n: yall this took be sooo long

"I can't believe I'm doing this... I can't believe I'm doing this..." you muttered, utterly disbelieving of what you'd talked yourself into.

Carefully, you continued to push your huge cart—which carried an almost comically giant teapot with matching teacups—looking around nervously as you trekked through Brûlée's Mirro-World.

The vastness of the dimensional space was intimidating, despite your relatively large size, making you feel smaller than you already did in your ridiculous get-up.

Glancing down at yourself, you flushed, still completely baffled that you had allowed yourself to go through with such an embarrassing idea.

"I can't believe I'm doing this..."

It had been a little over a year since your union with the Minister of Flour—which you supposed was pleasant enough as far as political marriages went.

Of course, with Katakuri being her favorite son, Big Mom went out of her way to host a humongous, opulent wedding, which blew all others out of the water even for generations to come.

Major players from all over the world came to witness the spectacular sight, and all at once you were thrust into a realm of pirates, criminals, and racketeers, a humble baker's daughter suddenly a permanent member of the infamous Charlotte family.

Promptly, you were moved into his mansion on Komugi Island, where—unbeknownst to the public—you lived relatively separate lives.

Of course, the Sweet Commander wasn't heartless, and did his best to assist you in the transition in his own Katakuri-ish way.

He left himself open to any questions as far as how things worked among the crew, or identifying who was family and who was not.

But anything beyond that, sadly, was left entirely up to you.

You did your best to spend as much time with him as possible—despite your relatively busy schedule—hoping to learn more about your newlywed husband past Sweet Commander and strong.

Diligently, you worked, suffering through a year of respective isolation.

A year of stolen glances...

A year of fleeting touches...

A year of reddened interactions...

Within that time, you were able to find a few chinks in his armor, a small sum of instances in which a brief glimmer of the true, kind, generous Katakuri shined through.

And it was within those instances that you began to develop a crush on your husband.

All that, combined with a few external pressures of image and status, eventually led you to this very moment.

This moment... being where you were pushing a cart of your husband's favorite tea in nothing but a dangerously short, practically see-through, (f/c) nightgown.

And not only were you wearing the tiniest excuse for a dress known to man, but you were also wearing it... commando.

Safe to say, you felt completely foolish.

But, if there was one thing you were, it was determined, and you refused to back out now after coming so far.

Besides, wives did surprises like this for their husbands all the time...

Right?

Finally reaching Katakuri's mochi shrine, you smiled, pleased by the sight of the three patissiers diligently standing watch.

It warmed you to see the regard in which his crew—and in extension, his family—held him to.

They all thought so highly of him, and you couldn't help but think the same.

There was something about your husband that was innately regal, innately noble.

He carried himself with an air that made others instantly fall in line, so much so that it even had you straightening your back in his presence.

But intimidation be damned, you had a mission to complete.

'Time to turn on the charm...'

"Hiya, boys!" you waved, carefully making your way over to the chefs.

"Lady (y/n)!" they all exclaimed together, thoroughly surprised as they lowered themselves in a respectful bow. "It's an honor! To what do we owe the pleasure!"

Innocently, you shrugged, lazily leaning against the cart.

"Oh, nothing serious. I'm just hear to deliver my husband's tea. You forgot it in your rush and I figured it'd be a shame to let it all go to waste."

Visibly, a terrified quiver rolled down their spines, the fact finally donning on them that they had, indeed, forgotten the tea.

"Oh, dear! Please forgive us!" they instantly fell to your feet, wracked with fear. "It was an accident! The kitchen was completely backed up and we didn't want to keep General Katakuri waiting!"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy," you assured, lifting their chins and greeting their sniveling faces with a smile. "It's all right. Things like this happen, and you chefs have a lot on your plate. I have the tea right here, so it's no harm, no foul."

Instantly, their glassy eyes turned starry, their cheeks dusting with a faint shade of pink at your gentleness.

A normal Charlotte would've at least slapped them around a bit.

'How kind! Lady (y/n) is the sweetest!'

"Anyways, I'll go drop this off to him then be on my way. Thanks a bunch!"

Instantly, a record scratch echoed within the bakers' ears, each one of them turning stark white as you began to push the cart toward the shrine.

"No! My Lady! You can't!" they exclaimed, protectively jumping in front of you and blocking your path.

Confused, you raised a brow, halting your movement.

"Huh? Why not?"

"It's not just you," the first one started, warily. "They say no one has ever caught General Katakuri in the act of eating."

"He's ceaselessly vigilant, and can't let his guard down, even during a snack," the second one chimed.

"The point of tea time is to unwind with friends," the third nodded, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. "But for him, it's a joyless act of nutritional intake and solemn meditation for his next battle."

"Well, I'm sure he can make an exception. I'm his wife after all," you attempted to reason. "Besides, I'm just giving him some tea, then I'll be on my way."

"Madam, you don't understand," the first one shook his head. "He is communing with the God of War's spirit in a solemn ceremony of the utmost dignity."

"It's a religious experience for him," the second one agreed. "No one can be allowed to... intrude?"

Somehow, you had managed to vanish into thin air right before their eyes, the tea cart being the only thing remnant of you left behind.

"Wha—? Where did she—MY LADY, NO!"

They all turned around, only to find that you were already sneaking into the shrine, carefully opening the sliding door before closing it behind you.

'You've piqued my interest, dear husband...'

"SHE'S DONE FOR!"

Now that you were really thinking about it, in the entire time you'd known him—even pre-marriage—you had failed to ever see Katakuri eat, much less pull down that scarf of his.

It made you curious.

It made you painfully curious.

Slowly creeping in, you were surprised by a rather melodic voice, which sounded an awful lot like singing.

"🎶 Oh, doughnuts! I love to eat doughnuts! Even the hole's a treat, doughnuts! 🎶"

Looking closer, you were finally able to see that it was your dear husband, lazying lazily with his back to the ground as he filled his rather large and pointy maw with your sweets.

'I don't believe it...'

Your eyes widened, face heating up at the sight of him so relaxed and happy.

Forget rare, it was a once in a lifetime sight.

And you were eating up every second.

'Commune with the Warrior God my butt... he just likes his doughnuts.'

"🎶 A snack attack, doughnuts! Lying on my back, doughnuts! A forbidden sweet, always knocks me off my feet! Doughnuts! 🎶"

He grinned, grabbing another one of your mouth-watering doughnuts with glee.

"🎶 This is my secret garden, filled with doughnuts! No judgement, just doughnuts! 🎶"

Though, in an instant, it was all undone.

In a moment of clarity, his haki had finally kicked in, revealing your presence to him as clear as day.

His breath hitched, eyes widening as they finally settled on you, meekly hiding in the corner.

His jovial mood melted faster than soft butter in a hot pan, and his entire aura shifted from merry to deadly as he quickly covered his mouth.

"(y/n)!" he growled, eyes blazing with fury. "What are you doing here?!"

"Katakuri, I—EEK!"

Your sentence was cut short as a mochi appendage wrapped tightly around your waist, harshly yanking you forward and toward him.

"What did you see?! Tell me!"

"Just you eating! Nothing else!"

"Why did you come here?!"

"The chefs forgot your tea at my bakery, so I came to deliver it for you!" you strained, struggling against his tightening grip. "Kata...kuri...! ...You're hurting me!"

"Don't you understand! You weren't supposed to find out!"

His entire world felt as if it was crumbling around him, the weight of what you had just discovered weighing heavily on his psyche.

This wasn't how he wanted you to learn about his true self.

Hell, he didn't want you to learn about it at all.

He wanted to remain the pillar of perfection and strength you had built up in your mind, remain the noble man you had come to know as your husband.

Sure, due to his stoic nature, the two of you weren't the closest, but one thing he learned while in your prolonged presence was that you had the annoying habit of being effortlessly charming.

Your blind kindness and persistent optimism were a stark contrast to his cold calculation, and thusly forced a fondness to fester deep within his chest from the moment you met.

He valued your opinion more than he'd ever admit to anybody, and now you saw him as nothing more than a monstrous fool.

A fate worse than death.

"Find out what?! What are you talking about?!" you winced, attempting to gain some wiggle room.

"My mouth, (y/n)! You saw it!"

"Yeah, so?! Why are you freaking out?!"

At that, he froze, eyes slightly widening with surprise.

'...What?'

"You're not... disgusted?" he asked, completely and utterly confused.

"Why would I be? There's nothing wrong with them," you raised, a brow, confused yourself by the outlandish question. "Katak...uri! ...You're... still squeezing me!"

Quickly, he loosened his grip—though not letting go—allowing you to take in a nice, deep breath.

"I'm... I don't understand," he stumbled, uncharacteristically, desperately attempting to grasp the words coming out of your mouth.

"Is that what you think of yourself? Disgusting?" you asked, brows furrowed with concern. "'Cause that's completely untrue, and it's important to me that you know that."

Dumbstruck, the Sweet Commander could only watch as you stared up at him with admiration, his arm seeming to have a mind of its own as it carefully lowered you to the ground, handling your body with the care of a porcelain doll.

Warmly, you smiled at him, sending his heart into a frenzy as you rested your soft hand against his toned chest, not breaking eye contact for a moment.

"You are Charlotte Katakuri," you started, proudly. "Sweet Commander... Strongest of the Big Mom Pirates... Pride of the Charlotte family..."

You paused a moment, giggling softly.

"Lover of Doughnuts..."

The man flushed, suddenly reminded of the rather poor singing you had been subjected to earlier.

How embarrassing.

"Your perfectly normal mouth doesn't take away from any of that," you continued, sincerely. "And if anything, it amplifies them because it is a part of you."

Slowly, you hand trailed up to cup his cheek, not shying away even when he flinched.

You saw absolutely nothing wrong with the way he looked, and if anything loved it even more.

'I knew he was handsome, but I never thought...'

"You've been holding out on me, Commander," you teased, very pleased by the sight before you. "Who knew my husband was so gorgeous."

At your praise, the general flushed redder than a cherry, unequipped for any sort of response to such a compliment.

"I..."

He froze, his gaze finally trailing lower and landing on your outfit.

In an instant, his throat went dry, hands suddenly becoming clammy and internal temperature shooting through the roof.

"(y/n)... what are you wearing?"

Glancing down at yourself, you suddenly remembered your awkward clothing situation, an embarrassed flush rising to your cheeks.

"Oh! Well...! I read somewhere that wives usually surprised their husbands with gifts like this... so I figured we were overdue..."

You quickly deflated, suddenly incredibly self-conscious under his intense gaze.

"You wanted to surprise me... with lingerie?" he asked, raising a brow.

Your face was as hot as a volcano.

"The woman at the store said it was a nightgown!" you whined, utterly mortified as you slapped your hands on your cheeks. "I didn't realize how short it was until I got home... and I figured it was okay since your guards didn't have much of a reaction."

At that last part, a vein in Katakuri's forehead bulged, his chest swiftly swelling with intense fury—and a hint of jealousy.

The "nightgown" was made of a flimsy, practically see-through silk, the fabric so weak the man was sure he could tear it apart like tissue paper.

Not only that, but the hem came up dangerously high—leaving a bit of your cheeks on display if you moved fast enough—and the neckline came down dangerously low—your breasts threatening to spill out at any moment.

He didn't need haki to sense what his men were thinking seeing you in your outfit.

And he didn't like it one bit.

"The patissiers saw you in this?" he asked, voice deadly calm.

None of this anger was directed toward you, of course, but to the bakers outside that had the privilege of seeing his sweet, beautiful wife so exposed.

"We talked for a bit before I snuck past them," you answered, raising a brow. "Why?"

"I see..."

With your answer, their fates were sealed, your husband already on the move toward the door.

They were all as good as dead.

"Wait, Kuri, no!" you suddenly realized, quickly rushing to block his way. "It's not their fault. They couldn't have known I'd be dressed like this when I came over."

Your eyes shifted, turning pleading as you looked up innocently into his dark-ruby reds.

The sight—along with the use of a new nickname—forced the man to stop in his tracks, blushing like a school boy.

When he became so pathetic, he had no idea.

But he supposed he had you to thank for that.

'Typical...'

With a heavy sigh, he caved, dropping his murder plan and opting to cross his large arms over his broad chest instead.

"Fine..." he nodded, begrudgingly. "But from now on, this outfit stays home."

Relieved, you broke into a wide smile, giving him a playful salute.

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly reinvigorated, you gave him a small spin, modeling the nightgown at all angles.

"But you never told me... do you like it? I mean, was it a good surprise?"

Re-examining you, Katakuri failed to find words to describe how beautiful you looked.

Your every curve was laid out for his viewing pleasure, your natural radiant glow only adding to the appeal.

You were like an angel... an angel that had managed to sneak her way into his secret paradise.

"I... do like it," he stumbled, slightly. "The dress goes well your complexion... and brings out the color in your eyes."

Your eyes widened slightly, pleasantly surprise by the insightful compliment.

He had a lot of sisters.

You keened at his praise, having never heard him say such sweet things.

"You're too good to me," you grinned, eyes flicking from his to his lips with a wanting look. "Can I... Can I kiss you?"

At your request, his eyes practically turned to saucers, the Sweet Commander feeling as if he was about to spontaneously combust.

You?!

And him?!

Kiss?!

Like, right now?!

Like, now now?!

"I... uh..." he stuttered like an idiot, unsure of how to handle this. "Are you sure?"

You suddenly realized how pushy you probably sounded, instantly dialing it back.

"I mean, only if you want to, of course," you sighed, quickly giving up hope. "Y'know what, it's fine. I'm sorry I made this all so weird. I just... I think I'm gonna head back to the bakery—"

"Stay."

Before you knew it, a mochi appendage was wrapping around your waist—its touch infinitely softer than before— preventing you from turning around.

You gasped, slightly surprised as your husband pulled you flush against his chest, looking down at you with an expression you had never seen on him before.

"Just stay," he exhaled, his mochi slowly morphing back into his hand, which rested atop your hip. "If you want to... kiss me... then you can. You're my wife, after all."

At the reminder, your heart skipped a beat, the words sounding even better coming off his tongue.

"Damn right," you grinned, carefully tossing an arm over his shoulder to pull him closer. "And I am very proud."

Unable to respond, the man simply turned rigid, allowing you to move as you pleased.

With bated breath, you leaned in, hooking your manicured finger on the hem of his scarf and carefully tugging it down, going slow since you felt him flinch.

Once again, you were met with the entirety of his handsome face, fangs and scars alike all there for you admire.

A privilege you would not take lightly.

"You are so beautiful, Kuri," you whispered with wonder, cupping his cheek in your soft palm. "I wish you could see what I'm seeing right now."

Nervous, Katakuri was quick to avoid eye contact with you, only humming in response at your praise.

But you moved right on your merry way, allowing your thumb to caress his cheekbone before you finally pressed your plush lips against his, making sure to be wary of his teeth.

But your worries were soon shoved back into the recesses of your mind, making way for the indescribable feeling of utter bliss coursing your veins.

It felt as if you had been struck by lightning and swept off your feet at the same time, the Sweet Commander having to tighten his grip around your waist in order to keep you from toppling over.

He tasted so sweet, and he felt so right, like coming home to a warm hug, or eating a freshly glazed doughnut.

As a child, you never understood what the fairytale books were talking about when they described a kiss as magical.

But now?

It couldn't have made more sense.

Just as quickly as the feeling came, it disappeared, the two of you separating so as not to get too caught up in the moment.

Teasingly, you licked your lips, glancing up at your husband with a mischievous look.

"I'd know my strawberry cream doughnut anywhere," you teased, resting your hand against his chest. "You taste just like 'em."

Flushed, his gaze slid away from you once again, though he managed to keep his hold on your waist.

"There's still more left over.... if you would like to join me for the rest of my merienda?" he suggested, nerves still buzzing through his stomach.

But to his surprise, you nodded vigorously, smiling as brightly as the sun—the sight effectively melting a large chunk of his hardened, mochi heart.

"I'd love to."

happy birthday to me 🍩💗

If you’re still open to requests I would like to see more of the bayverse turtles in your style

my mspaint crashed and i had to redo my colouring :'D i wanna sillify these buff kids

uncoloured, i hope its clear i make seperate files b4 i colour so things might change teehe

blah, blah, blah, blah, blah...

Right, considering the current state of corporate politics on this site, and that it seems that only those affected seem to be actively speaking on the matter, it is up to I, the only fucking cishet on tumblr, to drag this out to a wider audience.

REBLOG IF YOUR ACCOUNT IS A TRANSFEM SAFE SPACE.

We need to show these higher ups how much we truly value them.

Unintentional couple behaviour

you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?

characters: luffy, kidd, katakuri, shanks and mihawk

(zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo)

a/n: since a loooot asked for more, here I am eheh

words count: around 0.4k - 1.1k each

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

── .✦ Monkey D. Luffy:

You don’t know when it started.

Maybe it was the way Luffy always stole food from your plate, but make sure to never let anyone else touch it.

Maybe it was how he always grabbed your hand first whenever the crew split up.

Maybe it was how he insisted on napping with you, his head always finding your lap, his arms always looping around you like a makeshift pillow.

Whatever it was, it had been going on for way too long. And the worst part is that you never questioned it.

Until now.

It starts with Sanji.

You’re sitting at the dinner table, picking at your food, when Sanji suddenly snorts “You two should just date already.”

You blink “…What?”

Sanji gestures between you and Luffy “You’re basically a couple anyway.”

You choke on your drink.

Luffy just tilts his head, mid-bite “Huh?”

Sanji raises an eyebrow “Seriously? You guys act like a couple all the time.”

You open your mouth to argue, to deny everything, but then Nami nods “He’s right, you know.”

Usopp grins “Yeah, I mean, have you even seen yourselves?”

Franky chuckles “Super obvious, bro.”

You stare. And then Zoro, of all people, grunts “They’re not wrong.”

Your brain short-circuits. Luffy just blinks at all of them, then turns to you “Wait… are we a couple?”

Your face burns “No!”

The crew groans.

“Oh, come on.”

“You’re in denial.”

“This is painful to watch.”

You glare “We’re just friends!”

Luffy nods “Yeah! Just friends!”

The crew stares. Then Brook smiles “Oh? Then you wouldn’t mind if I asked y/n out on a date?”

Silence.

Then Luffy’s fork snaps in half and the table goes dead quiet.

Luffy grins at Brook, but it’s not his usual happy-go-lucky grin. It’s the grin he wears before picking a fight.

“Yohoho,” Brook laughs nervously “Just kidding.”

Luffy hums, still smiling “Good.”

Your stomach flips because holy shit. That was jealousy. Luffy was jealous... Over you.

The realization haunts you for the rest of the night. Because if Luffy was jealous then what did that mean?

Did he actually—?

No.

No, this is Luffy. He’s just protective. That’s just who he is.

…Right?

You barely sleep, and the next morning you wake up to Luffy in your bed.

Sprawled across your mattress. Arms locked around your waist. Face buried in your shoulder.

Like it’s completely normal.

Like he always does this.

Your heart pounds.

Because—wait!

He does always do this. Every night. Every time you’re on the Sunny, he sneaks into your bed without even asking. And you never questioned it.

Because it was just Luffy.

But now everything feels different.

You slowly try to move, but his grip tightens.

“Mm… don’t go” he mumbles sleepily, lips brushing against your skin.

And that’s it. You lose it.

“LUFFY, WHAT ARE WE?!”

Luffy jerks awake “Huh—?”

“What are we?!” you repeat, flustered as hell.

Luffy rubs his eyes, confused “We’re us.”

You groan “That’s not an answer!”

He tilts his head “What do you mean?”

You gesture wildly “This! Us! The sleeping together! The hand-holding! The food-sharing!”

Luffy suddenly grins “Oh.”

Your heart stops “What do you mean, oh?”

Luffy laughs. And then, without hesitation, he leans in and kisses you.

Soft. Certain.

Like he’s been waiting to do it forever.

You freeze. Your brain short-circuits.

He pulls back, grinning “So? Are we a couple now?”

You gape “…WHAT?!”

Luffy just laughs “Well, we’ve basically been dating this whole time, right?”

Your eye twitches “AND YOU KNEW?!”

Luffy shrugs “I just thought you knew too.”

You sputter, because what the hell. What the actual hell. Luffy just decided you were dating. And you never even noticed.

You flop back onto the bed.

Luffy just grins, tugging you closer “You’re thinking too much” he mumbles, nuzzling against you.

Your heart races.

Your face is burning.

But… maybe the crew was right. Maybe you and Luffy were always meant to be.

Even if you were the last person to realize it.

── .✦ Eustass Kidd:

You’ve always known Kid was the stubborn type. He was gruff, intense, and always had that tough guy act. But lately, you’ve noticed something strange. The more you were around him, the more he didn’t seem to mind you being there. In fact, he almost seemed to expect it.

It starts with those small things, things he doesn’t think twice about. Like when you’re both sitting on the deck, and a gust of wind hits just as you’re about to stand. Before you can catch your balance, Kid’s hand shoots out, steadying you. He doesn’t say anything, but his grip lingers just long enough for you to notice.

“Watch it” he mutters, his usual gruff tone, but there’s something softer behind his eyes. You smile but say nothing. Killer, standing nearby, simply raises an eyebrow before looking away, smirking under his mask.

A few days later, when the crew is at port, you notice Kid keeping an eye on you more than usual. Every time someone gets too close or even bumps into you, his sharp gaze zeroes in, and he doesn’t hesitate to step in between you and whoever’s too close. At one point, a shady pirate from a different crew tries to flirt with you. Before you can even respond, Kid steps forward, pushing the pirate away with a low growl.

“Get lost.”

You blink, surprised at his intensity, but he doesn’t look at you, just at the pirate who’s now backing off.

“Kid, I can handle myself” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Doesn’t mean you should have to” he grumbles under his breath, clearly annoyed by something. He turns away before you can say anything else, muttering about how annoying it is to babysit you. But you know it’s not just that.

The crew knows it too.

Heat lets out a low whistle as he passes by “Damn, Captain, didn’t know you were the protective boyfriend type.”

Kid turns on him with a glare “Shut the hell up.”

Heat just laughs, walking away. You shake your head, but the warmth in your chest lingers.

Then, it all comes to a head one evening. The crew’s just finished a round of celebrations, the ship rocking gently in the quiet of the night. You’re leaning against the rail, enjoying the peace when you feel him behind you.

“Can’t sleep?” Kid asks, his voice low as usual.

You turn around, finding him standing there, arms crossed, the moonlight casting a soft glow over his scowling face.

“I could ask you the same thing” you reply.

There’s a quiet moment as you both stand there, not speaking. His eyes never leave yours, and the tension between you both seems to grow with every passing second.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching. Instinctively, you move closer to Kid. You don’t even think about it, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand shifts from where it was casually resting at his side to just hovering near your waist.

The ship creaks, the quiet atmosphere making you both more aware of each other’s presence. He doesn’t speak. Neither do you. His fingers are so close, just barely grazing your side as if to assure himself you’re right there.

The closeness feels… different. Intimate.

You glance up at him “Kid?” you ask softly, your heart beating a little faster.

He doesn’t answer immediately, instead, his eyes flicker over your face, and you can see the internal struggle within him. It’s a battle, and for a second, you think he might just ignore it, keep up the stubborn front.

But then, his hand finally rests against your side. His touch isn’t harsh, but gentle. You don’t pull away.

“I don’t know why I keep doing this shit” he admits, his voice low but clear “But when it comes to you… I don’t want to risk something happening.”

You blink, surprised “Risk what?”

His gaze softens, and the gruffness in his tone fades away. He looks straight at you, the usual deflective annoyance replaced with something more vulnerable.

“I don’t want anyone else near you. Not after I saw that idiot trying to hit on you.”

You smile, your heart fluttering in your chest “Kid, I’m not a damsel in distress.”

“I know,” he replies quickly, but there’s no hiding the quiet affection in his voice now “I just… I don’t want to lose you.”

His words hit you harder than you expected, and before you can even respond, something unspoken passes between you both. In a split second, his lips are near yours, and the kiss is soft, almost hesitant, like he’s still not sure if he’s allowed to show this side of himself.

But you kiss him back, your hand gently resting against his chest. The kiss lingers for a moment longer than either of you anticipated, but it feels like the world has paused, like this is the only thing that matters in that moment.

When you pull away, you both stand there in silence, but this time, it’s not awkward. It’s comfortable.

And then the moment is completely shattered by the sound of someone clearing their throat. You both snap your heads toward the entrance to the deck, where Killer and Wire are standing, watching with amused expressions.

“So,” Wire says, smirking, “you two finally gonna admit you’re basically married, or should we keep pretending this isn’t happening?”

Your face heats up immediately, but Kid just groans, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Go to hell” he grumbles.

Killer just shakes his head “Too late, Captain. Everyone’s been taking bets on when you’d figure it out.”

You gape “What?”

Wire grins “Yeah. Heat won. He said you’d kiss before the next port. Guess we owe him a round of drinks.”

Kid looks absolutely done. You, on the other hand, can’t help but laugh. Because honestly? It’s not surprising.

You look back up at Kid, who’s still scowling but isn’t pulling away from you. You squeeze his hand briefly before grinning.

“Guess we were the last ones to know, huh?”

He exhales sharply, shaking his head, but there’s no real annoyance in his expression anymore. Just acceptance. And maybe, just maybe, the start of something real.

── .✦ Red-Haired Shanks:

Being part of the Red Hair Pirates meant living in a constant mess of drinking, laughing, and reckless adventures.

And somehow you ended up being the most responsible one. Which was probably why everyone assumed you and Shanks were together.

The problem?

You weren’t.

But apparently, no one got the memo.

It starts with Yasopp.

You’re in the middle of patching up Shanks’ arm because, once again, he got into a bar fight for fun, when Yasopp smirks at you from across the deck.

“You know,” he says casually, “you’re basically married to him at this point.”

You nearly stab Shanks with the needle.

“What?!”

Shanks, meanwhile, just laughs.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even deny it.

“C’mon,” Yasopp continues, “you take care of him, clean up after him, yell at him when he’s reckless...”

“I yell at all of you.”

“Yeah, but you baby him.”

Shanks grins “It’s true. You do.”

You glare “I do not.”

Shanks just shrugs “If you say so.”

And that should be the end of it. But it’s not.

Because after that the whole crew starts treating you like... ugh.

“Oi, Y/N! Can you grab Shanks another drink?”

“Y/N, tell the captain to stop picking fights with Marines again.”

“Hey, Y/N, Shanks says he wants something spicy, maybe you could help... and it's not about food”

You want to scream.

But Shanks?

Shanks just goes along with it. Smiling. Laughing. Letting everyone assume you’re his.

And the worst part is that you let them, because deep down you don’t hate the idea.

And that’s dangerous.

Then one night, it all clicks.

You’re sitting at a bonfire, surrounded by the crew, listening to them sing and drink and bicker over who can hold their liquor best.

You’re not paying attention until you hear your name.

“So, Captain,” Lucky Roux says, “when’s the wedding?”

You choke on your drink. But before you can argue, Shanks just grins.

“Oh, give it time.”

The crew erupts into laughter.

You just stare at him.

Because... what????

Shanks turns to you, smiling like he didn’t just casually imply he plans on marrying you.

And something in his expression—

Something warm. Something knowing.

It hits you all at once.

The hand-holding. The lingering touches. The way he always pulls you onto his lap when there’s no room to sit.

The way he lets you fuss over him when he gets hurt, the way he only ever listens to you.

The way he looks at you like you’re something precious.

Your heart pounds.

And Shanks just grins against your lips.

“Took you long enough” he murmurs.

And when you pull back, breathless, flustered, you realize that maybe you’ve been his this whole time.

You blink, heart still racing as the weight of his words settles in. The laughter of the crew fades into background noise, the warmth of the bonfire casting flickering shadows over Shanks’ face. He’s watching you, waiting, like he already knows the answer, like he’s known it for years.

And maybe he has.

Maybe he’s been waiting for you to catch up.

Your throat is dry. You open your mouth, but no words come out, just a strangled sound of disbelief.

Shanks chuckles, eyes crinkling at the corners “You alright there, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he hasn’t just upended everything you thought you knew.

Your hands tighten in his shirt, and you can’t tell if it’s to ground yourself or to pull him closer “You...” you swallow, voice quieter now, meant just for him “You should’ve said something...”

He tilts his head, considering “I thought I did. Plenty of times.”

You scowl, smacking his chest lightly, which only makes him laugh “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, I know.” His fingers brush your jaw, featherlight, reverent “I just like seeing you all flustered.”

You groan, but you don’t pull away. And well, that says everything, doesn’t it?

And Shanks knows it too, because his grin softens, something unreadable flickering in his gaze “So,” he murmurs, close enough that his breath tickles your lips, “now that you’ve finally figured it out, what do you plan to do about it?”

The challenge is there, teasing, but there’s something raw beneath it, something real.

You take a breath. Then, before you can overthink it, you grab the front of his coat and pull him in, kissing him again, firmer this time.

The crew erupts in cheers. Someone whistles. Someone else yells about winning a bet.

But all you can focus on is the way Shanks smiles against your lips, like he’s just won something far more important.

And maybe you have too.

── .✦ Charlotte Katakuri:

The first time someone calls you Katakuri’s spouse, you nearly drop your mochi donut.

“Excuse me, what?”

The Big Mom Pirates stare at you like you’re stupid.

“Well, yeah,” Oven says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world “You take care of him, he lets you into his tea time, you’re the only one who sees his face—”

Brûlée smirks “And you always defend him when people talk behind his back.”

Daifuku nods “Might as well be married already.”

You sputter “That doesn’t mean—! We’re not—! He’s just my commander!”

Oven raises an eyebrow “You ever see Katakuri treat anyone else the way he treats you?”

You freeze.

Because... okay.

That’s a good point.

Katakuri isn’t exactly warm with people. He’s respected, feared, distant. A perfectionist. The strongest Sweet Commander.

And yet, with you?

He lets you tease him. Lets you see him.

Lets you in.

Your stomach flips.

And you don’t know what to do with that.

You try to forget about it.

But after that you start noticing things.

The way Katakuri always saves you the best snacks at tea time.

The way he steps in front of you during battles without thinking.

The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his back, his face.

His unguarded moments are always with you.

And suddenly you can’t ignore it.

Neither can the crew.

It all comes to a head one evening.

You’re sitting with Katakuri in his usual spot, tea cooling beside him, the setting sun casting a warm glow over his sharp features. He’s eating, as usual, but his guard is down because you’re here.

And then the words slip out.

“…Katakuri.”

He glances at you, chewing “Hm?”

You hesitate. Then screw it.

“Are we… something?”

Katakuri pauses.

Slowly, he sets his cup down. Then he exhales, like he’s been waiting for this.

“You tell me,” he says, voice steady “Would it bother you if we were?”

Your heart pounds. Because no, it wouldn’t.

You swallow “No.”

Katakuri watches you for a long moment. Then, he smirks.

“Then I suppose we are.”

Your brain short-circuits.

“Wait—WHAT?!”

Katakuri chuckles, low and deep “Did you really think I’d let just anyone this close to me?”

You gasp, because hold on. Has he known this whole time?!

Your face burns “You could’ve said something sooner, you jerk!”

Katakuri just leans closer, his presence overwhelming.

“…Would you have been ready to hear it?”

You freeze, because damn it.

He’s right.

── .✦ Dracule Mihawk:

Living on Kuraigana Island with Mihawk isn’t easy, but somehow, you get used to it.

You get used to the silence. The way he watches you over the rim of his wine glass. The way he corrects your sword stance with the barest touch of his fingers.

You get used to the way he does things for you without asking, bringing you an extra plate at meals, fixing your sword when it’s damaged, moving his coat so you don’t sit on the cold stone steps.

It’s just how he is... Or so you think.

Until one day Perona stares at the two of you across the dining table and snorts.

“You guys act like a married couple.”

You choke on your drink. Mihawk just raises an eyebrow.

Perona grins “Oh, come on! You live together, train together, eat together—hell, you even drink out of each other’s cups sometimes!”

You freeze.

Because—wait. When did that start happening?!

You sneak a glance at Mihawk, expecting him to argue.

But instead, he just takes a sip of wine and says, “And?”

Your brain short-circuits.

Because what does he mean, ‘and’?!

Perona cackles “Oh, this is gold.”

Meanwhile, you’re too busy spiraling to notice the small, knowing smirk on Mihawk’s lips.

Because the truth is, he knew all along.

The next few days pass in a strange haze. Every time you’re near Mihawk, you’re hyper-aware of his actions. The way he hands you your sword when it’s too heavy for you to lift properly, the way he adjusts your stance when you’re practicing, even the way he leaves his wine glass half-filled so you can sip it without asking.

You can’t help but start noticing the little things. And it makes your stomach do these strange little flips you can’t quite explain.

You try to convince yourself that you’re just overthinking it. After all, you’ve spent so much time together, working side-by-side, that it’s only natural for him to be a bit… attentive. But you can’t help but feel that there’s more to it than that.

One evening, you’re training in the yard. Mihawk is watching from the porch, as usual, but today there’s something different in the air. Maybe it’s the cool breeze, or the strange feeling of him staring at you.

“Focus” he calls out when you fumble with your sword.

You grit your teeth and refocus, sweat already beading on your forehead. Your movements become sharper, more determined, but you can’t quite shake the feeling that something is… off.

When you finish the routine, Mihawk’s still leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. He doesn’t say anything at first, but you can feel his gaze. You give him a quick, sideways glance, noticing the faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Something wrong?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

His response comes as a slow, deliberate drawl “You still aren’t quite in sync with your sword. I’ve been waiting for you to catch up.”

You feel your face flush, but you push through it “Yeah? Well, I’m not some grandmaster swordsman like you, Mihawk.”

He steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, but his gaze softens for a moment “You’re getting better. I’m simply making sure you don’t lose track of your progress.”

The softness in his voice catches you off-guard, and for a split second, you feel as if you’re standing on the edge of something, something new.

But you quickly push it aside, shaking it off as just another passing thought. You turn to grab your sword again, determined to change the subject.

“Thanks for the help,” you mutter, trying to keep your voice steady “But I think I need a break. My arms are sore.”

Mihawk doesn’t respond at first. Instead, he merely watches you for a moment before he speaks again, his tone unusually gentle.

“Are you sure you’re fine? You’ve been training for hours without rest.”

You give him a small, appreciative nod “I’ll be fine. You’re too used to looking out for me, Mihawk.”

He lets out a faint chuckle, but you notice that there’s a strange intensity in his gaze now “I suppose I am.”

Before you can react, you feel something slightly off, a flicker of tension between you two.

It’s subtle, but it’s there. And you feel it in the way he looks at you, the way he almost seems to be waiting for you to say something.

But, just like that, the moment passes. He steps back, motioning for you to take a rest.

“I’ll prepare dinner,” he says quietly, as if nothing had happened “I’m sure you’re hungry.”

You blink “You cook?”

“Of course,” he says with a slight, almost invisible smirk “It’s not difficult, and you’ve been working hard all day. You deserve a proper meal.”

You feel your heart race at his words, but you manage to keep it together “Alright, I’ll take you up on that.”

But as Mihawk turns to walk away, you pause.

For just a second, you wonder... has this always been a normal interaction between you two? Or has it grown into something more without you even realizing it?

The unease gnaws at you as you sit down on the steps, watching him disappear into the house.

You’re overthinking it. You’re just friends.

...Right?

Later that evening, you’re sitting across from Mihawk, your meal already finished. The conversation is easy, but there’s still that lingering, unspoken tension hanging in the air.

Finally, Mihawk breaks the silence, his voice low and casual “You’ve been avoiding the subject.”

Your brow furrows in confusion “What subject?”

“The subject of us.”

You choke on your drink, sputtering “What—us?!”

His expression remains unreadable, but there’s a faint glimmer in his eyes “You think I haven’t noticed? You’ve been acting strange around me lately. Ever since Perona made her comment.”

You freeze “I—uh—”

“Let’s stop pretending,” he continues “We’ve been behaving like a couple, whether we admit it or not.”

Your heart starts to race. You open your mouth to deny it, but the words get stuck. Instead, you just stare at him, trying to make sense of what he’s saying.

And that’s when Mihawk leans forward just slightly, his voice dropping lower “I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I do know that I don’t want you to leave.”

The bluntness of his words takes your breath away.

“I never planned to leave” you manage to say, the words barely leaving your lips.

Mihawk gives you a rare, genuine smile, one that’s so small and almost imperceptible that you’re not sure you saw it at all. But something in his eyes shifts.

“Good.”

And just like that, the tension finally breaks.

You’re not sure where this will go. But for now, you’re content to just be here with him, uncertain, but sure of one thing: neither of you are going anywhere.