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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 2 days ago

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Marriage Problems Chapter 4

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon. Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling. Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives. Can they get their spark back? Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings: language, forced kiss, eventual smut

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Bucky quietly walked inside the house. What was usually his sanctuary now felt like it held impending doom. He and Y/N were just barely starting to get on a better footing with each other. They were supposed to go on a date tomorrow night. Why did something like this have to happen now? He trudged up the stairs slowly, the fear and trepidation making him feel dizzy. He opened his bedroom door, finding Y/N sitting on their bed reading a book. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Hey Buck. How was the party?” she asked sweetly.

Bucky smiled back at her hesitantly. “It was, um, fun, at first,” he said. “Good to catch up with Steve.”

“What do you mean ‘at first’? What happened?” Y/N asked, setting aside her book on the nightstand.

Bucky closed the door, walked to her side of the bed and sat facing her next to her crossed legs. He reached for her hands, and she met him halfway, letting him hold her hands as he kept his gaze down. “Something…happened,” he whispered.

Y/N’s hands squeezed his. “What happened? You’re scaring me, Bubbas.”

Bucky’s heart felt like it was going to explode. She called him the pet name he hadn’t heard in a long time, but he was also going to possibly hurt her right afterwards. He met her gaze. “A girl from work came on to me tonight,” he said.

Y/N blinked. “Okay,” she said.

“I told her no, but then she…she kissed me,” Bucky’s voice cracked as he stifled a sob.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she stared at him for a good long while. Bucky felt like he was shrinking under her unyielding stare, but he didn’t dare look or pull away. He felt her try to pull her hands out of his grasp but he tightened his hold. “No, please,” he gasped. “I…I didn’t want it. She just did it, and I froze because I was in shock, but I pushed her away.” Y/N’s eyes started to fill with tears. “Pretty mama, please,” Bucky begged, shifting toward her as his own tears started to fall. “All I want, all I’ve ever wanted, is you. Please, you have to believe me.” She shut her eyes tight and shook her head, fighting back her own cries. Bucky let go of her hands and cupped her face in his hands. “Y/N, please. Please please please, I’m so sorry. I should have walked away sooner, I should have said no louder, I shouldn’t have frozen. My love,” he kissed her cheek and she sniffled sadly. “My pretty mama,” he kissed the tip of her nose. “My everything. Baby, please.”

“I believe you,” Y/N whispered. Bucky pulled away just enough to look at her. “I do,” she reassured him. “I just…I’m sorry. I just couldn’t stop envisioning it and…I’m feeling a lot of very conflicting things right now.”

“I understand,” Bucky nodded. “I am, too. I’m so angry, and I was so scared.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel afraid to tell me,” Y/N said, looking at him sadly. “I know I haven’t…I haven’t been very, good to be with for a while now–”

Bucky huffed a watery laugh. “We’ve been in a weird spot lately,” he agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

Y/N sniffed again and sighed heavily before smiling timidly at him. “Me neither,” she promised.

He leaned his forehead against hers. “Can I ask for something?” he whispered.

“What?” she whispered back.

“I-I need to get it out of my head,” he said. “I need your lips to be the last on mine. It just doesn’t feel right. Please,” he angled his head, his nose nuzzling her nose and his lips hovering over hers.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered at his closeness, and when he met her gaze he saw the desire there that he hadn’t seen for a while. Her eyes flickered across his face, then she slightly nodded. That was all the permission he needed, and he leaned in and gently kissed her. Y/N slowly kissed him back, her lips featherlight against his. But within a few seconds she suddenly reached out and gripped his shirt in her fingers, pulling him toward her harder, angling her head to deepen the kiss. Bucky whimpered, his hands moving to the back of her neck then down her back. Their combined breathing got heavier, pants and sighs filling the room as he hoisted her up and into his lap, having her straddle him as he licked into her mouth, tasting her tongue with his own.

Y/N’s hips started to grind on top of him, and he shuddered at how good it felt to have her on him like this again. “Can I have you, pretty mama?” Buck whispered, kissing down to her neck and nipping at her ear. “God, please let me have you.”

“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Please Bubbas.”

He groaned at the pet name then flipped them over so she was on her back. He quickly stripped her of her pajamas and underwear, pulling his own clothes off in record time before hovering over her, his hands exploring her like she was brand new. And in a lot of ways, she was. “I’ve missed you,” he said as he kissed down her chest to her breasts, giving them plenty of attention after not seeing them for so long.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Y/N whispered, her fingers running through his hair and scratching his scalp the way he liked.

It sent shivers down his spine and he smiled against her skin. Bucky and Y/N used to have a good sex life, making time for each other and taking care of each other regularly, so it was strange for them to not indulge in one another for so long. This felt like their first time all over again, getting reacquainted with the way her body had changed after three kids and the beginning stages of aging. Bucky wasn’t as fit as he used to be, either, but Y/N’s hands still felt him all over as if he was the most handsome thing she’d ever seen.

Bucky’s kisses slid down her body until he reached her pussy, and he situated himself on the bed so he could wrap his arms around her thighs and spread her wide open for him. “I haven’t, um, shaved for a while,” Y/N said suddenly, sounding hesitant.

“I don’t care,” Bucky shook his head, smirking at her before he dipped his head down and started eating her out. Y/N gasped, her hips twitching and bucking against his face. His grip on her thighs tightened, not letting her squirm away from him. Y/N’s hands were shaking by her sides, and at a particularly fast flicking of his tongue against her clit she reached down and gripped his hair in her right hand, her left hand resting against the side of his face, randomly scratching at his beard.

Bucky reached one hand back around from her thigh, bringing it up to her pussy. His fingers rubbed at her lower lips as he focused his mouth on her clit. She was already becoming so wet for him that he smiled as he prodded one finger at her entrance, slowly pushing it all the way in until he was second knuckle deep. Y/N whined quietly, and it made him feel proud at getting a noise out of her, something so involuntary and primal. He slowly added a second finger inside her, lapping at her clit and her lips. He was slow and gentle in his movements in and out of her, curling his fingers just lightly inside as his other hand guided her hips gyrating on his face and his hand.

He hummed against her, pulling a shudder through her whole body, her legs shaking over his shoulders. Bucky sucked on her clit harshly, his fingers picking up in pace. Y/N’s hips bucked against his face, and his arm still wrapped around her leg moved up to hold her down over her hips. “Cum for me, Y/N,” he groaned.

Y/N stiffened, her fingers nearly ripping at his hair as she slapped a hand over her mouth and moaned, cumming all over his fingers. Bucky licked up everything he could, prolonging her orgasm for as long as possible as he lazily pumped his fingers in and out of her a while longer. He finally came to a stop and pulled them out, sucking them into his mouth as he sat up and situated himself between her legs.

“Fuck, Bubbas,” Y/N sighed. “Holy shit…”

Bucky leaned down and kissed her, letting her taste the last remnants of herself on his lips. “You did so good, pretty mama. So good for me.” He leaned back up and gripped his cock in his hand, stroking himself and then slapping his cock against her clit, making her jerk and moan. “How do you want me, love?”

“Like this,” Y/N said, looking up at him pleadingly. “Just this, please.”

“Are you sure?” Bucky smirked, running the tip of his cock through her slit. “I’ll do whatever you want. What does this pretty little pussy need?” Y/N’s hips shook as he nudged her clit again. “Does it need to be filled?”

“Yes!” she whimpered.

Bucky couldn’t wait any longer. It had been too long, and after getting to taste her and have her at his mercy now, his cock was throbbing in need. “Alright, pretty mama,” he said lowly. He aimed himself at her entrance, then slowly started pushing in. They both winced at the tightness and the stretch, and Bucky could tell she hadn’t been masturbating or doing anything to take care of herself for a long time. “Fuck, love, so tight,” he hissed. “Jesus, it’s been so long. You haven’t done anything? At all?”

Y/N shook her head, looking embarrassed. “I was just…too tired. Too busy.”

Bucky whimpered. Not only had they taken advantage of Y/N and all she did for them, but she had given up taking care of herself in multiple ways to keep up with the demands of their family life. He leaned down and started kissing and licking at her nipples, helping to stimulate her. “I’m so sorry, pretty mama,” he murmured against her skin. “You deserve the world, and I couldn’t give that to you–”

“No,” Y/N said, pulling his head up as he finally slid all the way in. She kissed him sweetly, running her fingers through his hair. “You’ve worked so hard for me, for all of us. I was trying to help take on the rest. But all I did was end up burning myself out.”

Bucky nuzzled his nose against her cheek, kissing her all over her face. “I’m still sorry,” he murmured. “Can you forgive me?”

Y/N’s chest shook on a sob as he rolled his hips into her. “I forgive you,” she whispered, her lips trembling.

Bucky sighed as he held her close, continuing to kiss her everywhere he could reach. “Thank you. Thank you, Y/N,” he whispered back, not trusting his voice. He licked and sucked at her neck as his hips picked up the pace, but still thrusting into her slowly. He wanted to take his time, to feel her and indulge in her. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his back, her nails scratching down his shoulder blades as he pushed into her as far as he could. Her hot, panting breaths huffed over his neck and shoulder, her sweet little moans and whimpers tickling his ear, and he swore he’d never heard anything more beautiful in his life. After a torturous amount of time for Bucky to hold off on his pleasure, he could feel her pussy flutter around him. “Fuck, you gonna cum, pretty mama? Yeah? Cum all over my cock while I fill you up?”

Y/N shivered, nodding frantically as her hands moved down his back to his ass, her fingers digging into the cheeks of his ass and pulling him into her harder. “Bubbas…Bubbas please. Bucky…”

“You want it harder?” Bucky smirked, pulling away just enough to look at her, staying within inches of her face. “You want me to fuck you hard, love?”

“Yes!” Y/N squeaked. “Fuck me harder. Faster!”

Bucky positioned himself slightly differently and held her tight. “Whatever you want, mama,” he said, then started thrusting fast and hard into her.

Y/N gasped, her mouth falling open wide. She hugged him tight again, trying to hold in any loud moans so they wouldn’t wake up the kids. “Oh my god!” she loudly whispered.

“That’s it, Y/N, take it! Show me you forgive me, love. Show me you forgive me with your cum,” he grunted.

Y/N started shaking uncontrollably, then choked on a sharp gasp and stiffened under him. Her head wrenched back and before she could scream Bucky kissed her hard, swallowing her noises as she came. Her pussy clamped down impossibly hard on his cock, her cum drenching his hips and the sheets below, her nails digging into his back. The mix of pain and pleasure spurred Bucky on as he fucked her through her orgasm then finally came deep inside her, pumping her full like he said he would, his own loud groan being covered by her kiss.

Y/N twitched from the rippling pleasure, and Bucky slowly broke the kiss, his lips grazing across her face and down her neck. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re amazing,” he whispered. “Thank you for forgiving me. Thank you, my pretty mama. My love. Shit…” he shuddered as her pussy fluttered around him with the aftershocks of her orgasm. “You feel so good. God, I love you.”

“I love you,” Y/N murmured, her hands softly rubbing his back, soothing out the scratches she caused. “I love you Bubbas. Love you…I’m so sorry–”

“I’m sorry, too,” Bucky said, kissing her lips. “But we can work through it, right? Together?”

She smiled at him. “Yeah. You and me against the world, right?”

He smiled at their little mantra they used to say to each other all the time. “You and me against the world.”

@cjand10 @sebastians-love @sherwoodforesttales @shanksstrawhat @sagexsenorita @abaker74 @vunblr @doodle-with-rhyrhy

#marvel #bucky barnes #smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #series fanfic #chapter 4 #father!bucky barnes #mother!reader #married couple #bucky x reader

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preppyacademy · 2 days ago

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Breaking and Remaking : No Thoughts, Only Obedience

Kyle or Prescott's story

Kyle was in his senior year of high school and part of the football team. Academics were secondary for him—it was sports in the morning, sports at noon, and sports in the evening. He hoped to earn a scholarship by being one of the top athletes in his school. Unfortunately, Kyle always acted before thinking, which sometimes led to avoidable accidents.

One game night in early November, his team faced an opposing high school team. Kyle, prone to arrogance, didn’t warm up much, believing he didn’t need to—after all, he was one of the strongest players. His team was scoring well, but in the final decisive minutes, time seemed to slow down. Rain had started to fall, making the field slick. As he caught the ball mid-air, Kyle slipped on the wet grass and crashed violently to the ground before being tackled by several other players. His teammates, still in action, grabbed the ball and scored, securing victory.

As for Kyle, he ended the night in the hospital. His team won, but his medical results were far from victorious. A fractured collarbone, six to twelve weeks of recovery, immobilization, and rehabilitation. He was told he had to remain bedridden for weeks before he could even move.

Kyle had no choice. The hospital that admitted him had to transfer him to a specialized rehabilitation center, located six hours away but renowned as one of the best. His family spared no expense, wanting only the best care for him.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Kyle felt well received. He quickly noticed that most of the staff were male, which struck him as unusual. He was assigned to Dr. Pritchard.

Dr. Pritchard: "You’ll be well taken care of here. You’ll be staying with us for at least six weeks, possibly ten if your condition doesn’t improve. I hope we’ll get along well."

Kyle: "I hope so too."

The first few nights, Kyle struggled to sleep. The feeling of being far from home and his friends weighed heavily on him. Moreover, a low, constant noise resonated throughout his room—a repeating frequency that played over and over. The following nights were the same, but Kyle gradually became accustomed to the sound.

Dr. Pritchard: "I know time may feel slow, but here, rehabilitation is not just about physical recovery—it’s also about relaxing your mind and body. From now on, no more phone screens. We took yours last night. You need rest and must adapt to our institution’s methods."

Kyle was furious but couldn’t fight back—his body was in too much pain, forcing him to comply with the medical staff’s instructions. How was he supposed to survive weeks without his phone?

Dr. Pritchard: "When you wake up, the screens in your room will display relaxation and meditation videos. Follow them, and you’ll see—time will pass much more quickly here."

The next morning marked the beginning of Kyle’s first session with the videos. They consisted of breathing techniques and mantras to repeat. A spiral accompanied the voice-over, guiding him through the instructions.

Kyle, repeating the words: "I feel good, my body is relaxed, I let myself be carried by the waves, my mind sinks deeper into the abyss, I feel calm, every word I hear is a new way of thinking to embrace, to listen, and to learn."

Each day, Kyle was captivated—hypnotized—by these screens, which seemed to absorb his attention completely. Slowly, his thoughts began to change, and time passed in a rhythm dictated by the spiral and the mantras. Over time, the words evolved into something else.

Kyle, repeating the words: "I feel good, I am happy, my body is relaxed, my mind sinks deeper into the abyss. I am obedient, I listen to what I am told, I must act as I am instructed, I feel calm, I love to obey, I want to learn to obey."

As the days and weeks passed, Kyle healed not only physically but mentally as well, thanks to the soothing words of the spiral. His mind was gradually shaped into a model of perfection, discipline, and obedience.

Kyle: "I wish to submit to the orders of superior men, I wish to obey them, I wish to be submissive. I wish to be submissive. I wish to be submissive."

Dr. Pritchard: "Good boy. You have found true relaxation within your body."

Like a machine executing programmed instructions, Kyle regained mobility in his body. His absolute obedience, now stripped of all arrogance and rebellion, made rehabilitation much easier.

Then, the final week of his stay arrived. Kyle sat on his bed, staring into the distance, still repeating the obedience mantra.

Kyle: "I listen, I obey, I serve. My will is that of the Academy. To doubt is to fail. To resist is to fall. Order is my truth, obedience is my virtue. I bend, I disappear, I become. Every command is an honor, every task a privilege. I do not need to think—only to answer: Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "Good boy, you make me proud. You’ve done well in your exercises, and now, after ten weeks, your time with us has come to an end. Unfortunately, we must make room for new arrivals like you."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "As you say—'your will is that of the Academy.' Your mind has been shaped for the Academy—the Preppy Academy, to be precise. Would you like to join the Academy, my boy?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "You no longer wish to return to your old high school, correct?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "You will remain a good boy—obedient and disciplined?"

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Dr. Pritchard: "We will now relieve you of these hospital clothes—you no longer need them."

Dr. Pritchard placed a harmonization device over Kyle’s head. It resembled a large lamp with a metallic tube beneath it, sending electric signals into the subject’s brain. He activated it while Kyle continued to chant his desire to obey.

Kyle remained immobilized, paralyzed by the machine—unable to move of his own will. In his mind, the words "Obedience," "Submission," "Discipline" flashed over and over again.

Two nurses arrived, cut off Kyle's clothes and stripped him naked. Dr. Pritchard pulled a chastity cage from a drawer and locked Kyle's penis in it. He locked the cage and gave the key to a nurse, who left with it.

Dr. Pritchard: "You'll learn that your sex is no longer of any use to you; it belongs to the Academy. You only need it to urinate, because that's a natural need. But to urinate, you'll have to ask permission. If you feel pleasure, your penis, now the size of a phalanx, will be compressed, you'll feel pain and you'll learn to live with pain. Pain is a gift to be cherished, the very essence of a good Preppy Academy student. The more time passes, the more you won't even feel it anymore, you'll get used to what you've become."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Kyle did not flinch. Who he had been just weeks ago had disappeared into the abyss of his mind. Sometimes, though rarely now, he could hear a faint inner voice telling him this wasn’t him, urging him to fight. But that voice was slowly drowning beneath the waves of his consciousness.

Dr. Pritchard: "Now, we will dress you. You haven't learned this here yet, but you will soon understand that being a good boy means being elegant at all times. Appearance is an extension of your obedience. It’s not about having style—it’s about proving your submission through every detail of your attire. Dressing preppy is fundamental. It is a duty, not a choice."

Kyle: "Yes, Sir."

Kyle was dressed from head to toe, like a boy being sent off to school. A neatly pressed, button-down plaid white shirt, tucked into light khaki shorts held up by thick brown suspenders. Long white socks and polished black loafers completed the outfit, along with a large, subtly checkered bow tie.

When Dr. Pritchard tied the bow tie around Kyle’s neck, Kyle opened his mouth—not in surprise, but as if this attire had been meant for him all along, as if the relaxation of feeling truly himself in this clothing had loosened his jaw. His body and mind understood: he was meant to be a good preppy boy.

Dr. Pritchard: "That’s a good boy."

By late morning, Kyle was transferred to the Preppy Academy, placed in a class appropriate for his age. He was quickly integrated among other students eager to learn submission, obedience, and discipline.

He embraced the academy’s dress code without hesitation, developing a particular fondness for plaid patterns—the very motif Dr. Pritchard had introduced him to. In time, the administration and Kyle himself sent a letter to his family, informing them of his transfer and his wish to continue his education at the Preppy Academy.

Kyle’s father had heard of the institution through a friend whose son had returned home completely transformed—eventually becoming the family’s butler. Pleased with the results, and reassured that this was Kyle’s own request, his parents placed their trust in him.

Dr. Pritchard frequently visited the Academy to check on Kyle. Over time, he began calling him Prescott—his middle name—which suited him far better and carried a more refined sound.

Dr. Pritchard became Master to Prescott, who, with the Academy’s approval, would come to serve him every weekend—submissive and obedient. For example, he offered him his mouth to be filled with the doctor's cock from times to times.

Dr. Pritchard decided how Prescott should dress. He had even noticed during Prescott’s hospitalization that he often squinted from staring at the spiral for too long. As a result, he gifted him a pair of elegant glasses—enhancing his preppy and exemplary style even further.

Far from the field, far from his arrogance, Prescott had become a good boy. He could thank the Preppy Academy for that.

Who’s next?

#preppyacademy #preppification #preppy #preppyboys #ivy league #boardingschool #obediance #obedient #fromjocktopreppy #mind control #brainwashing

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cheeseatlantic · 7 hours ago

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i need the emotional intimacy and so do you!!

WHERE LOVE RESTS

The mission had gone sideways in a way that left you gasping for air, the sting of your injuries sharper than you’d care to admit. But the worst part wasn’t the pain—it was the look on Simon’s face as he saw you go down. The worry was there, plain and clear, even under the mask. He got you out, patched you up, but he never left your side since.

The days following the mission blurred together, one long stretch of careful tending and gentle reassurances from Simon, as if he was terrified you might slip away. You saw the strain in the slight twitch of his jaw, the way his hand would linger just a bit too long on your bandaged arm, the soft murmur of his voice as he reminded you to stay still.

He made sure you ate, fed you the best food—comforting, rich, everything to make sure your body healed. Your favorite meals, just the right temperature. He’d carefully cut each bite when you couldn’t manage it yourself. There was nothing too much for him to do for you.

But it wasn’t just the food. Every evening, without fail, he’d bring you a warm bath. It became a ritual, one that gave you some reprieve from the pain, but also something more. It was the way Simon looked at you as he eased you into the water, the way his hands moved over your skin with practiced care as he scrubbed the grime of the day away. There was a tenderness to his touch, like he feared even the slightest jolt would break you. You could feel it in his movements—the restraint in everything he did, as though you were the most fragile thing in the world.

One evening, the steam rising in the bathroom as you sank into the warm water, you finally spoke the words you’d been holding back for days.

“Simon…” you murmured, your voice soft and barely audible, “Would you… come in with me tonight?”

His brow furrowed, and you caught the hesitation in his eyes. But then he sighed, deep and heavy, and slowly, he nodded. Without saying another word, he unbuckled his gear, set it aside, and stepped into the bath behind you.

The moment his body sank into the water, you immediately leaned back, your head resting on his chest. The sound of his steady heartbeat beneath you was soothing, grounding. You could feel his hands lightly brushing your hair back from your face, the gentle way he caressed your skin.

“You’re okay,” he murmured, almost to himself, as if trying to convince himself more than you. “I’ve got you.”

You didn’t say anything in reply, instead closing your eyes and letting the warmth of the water and his presence settle over you. It felt like the world outside the bathroom had faded away, like nothing existed except for the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his hands moved over you so carefully, washing away the remnants of the day. He didn’t rush. He took his time, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin in a way that spoke more than any words could.

The scent of soap and warmth filled the air, and before long, the rhythm of his touch, the comfort of his embrace, lulled you into a peaceful drowsiness. Your body was sore, but here, with him, the pain didn’t seem so overwhelming. You felt safe in his arms, protected in a way you hadn’t known you needed.

As you drifted off to sleep, your body instinctively curling closer to him, Simon simply held you. His arms wrapped around you, cradling you against him. He kept bathing you, his hands gentle as he wiped away any lingering dirt, but his touch now was infused with something deeper. Something more vulnerable. The warmth of the water and the soft rhythm of his movements were all you needed, all you could focus on as you melted further into his embrace.

And as you slept, Simon remained awake, his chest rising and falling beneath you. His fingers still glided over your skin with a quiet care, as if the world had narrowed to this single, tender moment. He was scared—scared of losing you, scared that one mission could take you from him. But right now, in this bath, as he held you close, he let himself believe that he was exactly where he needed to be.

You were his, and in this fragile, tender moment, you both found solace in each other’s arms. And for a little while, the world outside didn’t matter.

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justauthoring · 15 hours ago

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This is the Beginning [1/?]

Summary: You never thought you'd be able to escape Buggy, and yet, a boy with a straw hat, a man with three swords and a girl with orange hair somehow manage to free you. The journey that follows afterwards is your chance at freedom and maybe something more.

A One Piece Live Action Rewrite

Pairing: Live Action!Zoro Roronoa x F!Reader

TW for this chapter: mental and physical abuse, ableism, Buggy is a whole warning himself, you're also blind in your right eye.

Word Count: 5,963

A/N: Here it is!! The first chapter! I've already started the second chapter because I'm so excited for this series but thought I'd get the first chapter out and see what you all think!

Feel free to leave a comment, reblog or send me an ask on your thoughts! I'd love to hear them :)

Chapter One - Your Angel Eye

The day you’re born, your left eye holds the complexion of an angel.

Sparkling white, the gasps that echo around the bed of your mother are unanimous. It’s an eye that no one has ever seen before. The single eye glows in the dim lit room, ethereal and almost magical. Your mother’s nursing maid tells your mother it’s a miracle, a sign of something great. Says it’s like an angel was born that day.

Or, at least, it would’ve been had you not been born blind in your right eye.

Still white, but murky and fogged, your right eye is glaringly different from your left.

The blessing you’d been born with is instantly cursed.

And you’ve felt that curse every day since.

Cabaji’s grip is tight as he yanks you along. Pinching and painful, but you bear it all with no more than a wince knowing that worse will be waiting for you should you try and argue.

At least, it’s your intention not to make a fuss. But his pace is too quick for you and you don’t have the time to gather your bearings before your hip is digging into the edge of a table. It causes you to trip, losing your footing. Cabaji lets go of you in response, your world tilting as the realization that you’re going to fall dawns on you. A flash of Cabaji’s blue and white scarf flitters past your vision and you’ve no doubt that the man has slithered away before your fall could bring attention to him.

Letting out a short yelp, you expect to feel your knees dig into the hardwood of the bar floor, only you never hit the ground.

Blinking, you glance back, only then registering the hands on your waist as you meet a pair of dark-brown kind eyes staring right back at you. The man who’d caught you has the brightest smile on his face, lips stretched wide and teeth glinting in the dim light of the bar. You blink at him, taking in the straw hat on his head as you slowly push yourself to your feet, his hands pulling back in response.

“A-Are you okay?”

You hadn’t even noticed the other boy sitting with him. His voice comes out in a timid squeak of concern, eyes assessing you behind big, round glasses.

“Oh. Y-Yeah,” you mumble, voice quiet, before turning back to the boy with the straw hat who’d caught your fall. He’s still staring up at you with those eyes and beaming smile. “Th-Thank you,” you shortly bow, twisting your fingers in your grasp nervously.

You’re about to take a step back and turn around when the boy calls out;

“What’s with the eye-patch?”

His question comes out blunt, asked in a friendly, curious town as he glances up at you. It gives you pause, body tensing as you frown down at him.

“Luffy!” His timid friend exclaims, lips parting bafflement. His eyes shift frantically from you to his friend and back, as if unsure of how you’ll respond. You don’t really respond in anyway, per say, just gape wide-mouthed down at the pair, bewildered.

Luffy just continues to grin up at you. “It’s cool!” He cheers, care-free and earnest. “Are you a pirate?”

You’ve no idea how to respond and you’re pressingly aware that the longer you take, the more angry Cabaji will be. You’re sure to already receive an ear-full, if not worse, after being stupid enough to trip over your own feet. You don’t even want to think about what will happen the more you make him wait.

“No?” Luffy pauses, for the first time his smile faltering. It’s only for a second before it returns. “Because I—”

You don’t stick around to listen.

Your body reacts on impulse and before you even realize it you’re spinning around and racing out of the bar before Luffy can finish his sentence. You don’t dare glance back to see his reaction and you hope the strange boy won’t do something as silly as try and follow you.

You’ve just made it into the turn of the alley when your arm is caught by someone. At first, you fear it’s Luffy, but when your head snaps round to look, you’re faced with the steaming expression of Cabaji staring back at you, eyes blazing.

“Does stealth mean nothing to you, you idiot?” He hisses, towering over you by the sheer height of him as you lean back, avoiding his eyes. “It’s bad enough you tripped on your own two feet, but then you went and talked to someone?”

Face twisting at the pinching grip on your arm, you bite your lip. “I-I just thanked him for catching me,” you whisper, trying to hide the shrill of pain from your voice. “I didn’t tell him anything!”

Shoving you back by the arm, Cabaji huffs; “you better of not. We can’t go back to Buggy empty-handed or with the marines after us. He’ll want his map back.”

Swallowing thickly, you hug your now free arm. You avoid Cabaji’s eye as he stares down at you, choosing to focus on your feet.

“Better not screw this up, Y/N. You remember what happened last time you disappointed Buggy, right?”

Shuddering at the memory, you quickly nod. “I won’t mess up again,” you assure, finally meeting his eyes as you nod frantically. “I promise.”

Cabaji just quirks a brow; “we’ll see.”

While you and Cabaji hadn’t been able to return the map to Buggy directly, you hadn’t gone back empty-handed. Of course, Cabaji was the one who got to deliver the good news while you were directed to go to your small tent and wait until Buggy came for you.

After facing a sneer or two from passing members of the crew, you’d finally made it to your tent. With a huff, you fall back onto the small cot sat in the middle of the tent, pulling your knees up to your chest as you let your head fall. You hated when you were sent on missions; it didn’t matter who Buggy paired you up with, they were awful. No one on the crew liked you and so they found it fun to torment you as much as they could. It was, however, no doubt that Cabaji was one of the worst.

The twisted acrobatic found a particular joy in causing you pain and fear.

Letting your eyes fall shut, you try to savour the moment of peace before it’s inevitably taken away. It’s a wonder to you, though, why the second your eyes fall shut you envision those dark-brown kind eyes from earlier that day. Luffy, his friend had called him. The boy with the beaming smile and a straw hat. Such a small moment and yet, it’s the first thing your brain thinks of the moment you’re given the reprieve to.

Was it because he’d caught you? Was it because he’d been kind, if not a little strange? You’re not sure, and it doesn’t matter anyways. Luffy, his friend and two others, an orange-haired girl and green-haired swordsman had stolen the map from the marines and therefore, were now targets of Buggy’s. There was only one way that ended.

“Long day then, my Angel Eye?”

You start at the voice, eyes snapping open as you suddenly find Buggy in front of you, grinning down at you with that manic smile of his. You hadn’t even heard him come in, not his footsteps or the flap of your tent… You can feel your heart start to race at the sight of him and you’re trying to ignore the tremble of your body as you meet his eyes.

“C-Captain,” you greet, biting your lip.

He sighs, as if annoyed by your stuttering. “Come now, sweetie. Surely, we’re beyond that pointless stuttering of yours.”

Frowning, you glance at your feet. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, Buggy just rolls his eyes. “Look at me.”

Instantly, snapping your gaze upwards, you meet his waiting gaze.

He grins wide. “Take off that eyepatch,” he orders sharply. “You know I don’t like you hiding.”

You want to argue. You want to say no. But you know you’ll only pay if you do, so, with just a second of hesitation, you reach up with nimble fingers to pull off the black eyepatch around your eye. Within seconds, Buggy is right in front of your face, bright red-nose touching your own as he stares deeply in your right eye.

His grin is not at all warming and enjoyable as Luffy’s had been. Instead, as he stares down at you, all you want to do is crawl in a hole and hide.

“Ah, I never get tired of seeing it.” He laughs, voice pitching. “So glaringly ugly compared to the beauty of your left eye.”

Swallowing thickly, you bite back the hurt. Buggy has said much worse things about you after all.

“Captain,” you find the courage to speak, figuring he’s probably the happiest he’ll be with you in that current moment. “Are you going after the map?”

Smile falling, Buggy leans back. “Duh,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s my map.”

Swallowing thickly, you try to ignore the pounding of your heart as you ask the next question. “And… the boy—the people who has your map?”

Buggy’s face twists, as if confused by your question. “I’ll kill them,” he shrugs, like it’s the obvious answer. “Like I always do.”

Your chest tightens. You don’t know why.

Standing to his full height, Buggy places his hands on hips.

“Come on then,” he grins down at you, “it’s time to greet the townsfolk.”

The day Buggy had found Orange Town was the day you realized you were never going to escape his crew.

You’d watched as he and his crew decimated the town, destroying the houses and shops and leaving nothing in their wake. They’d done it all with smiles and laughs, ignoring the screams and cries of the townspeople as they begged him not to destroy their livelihoods.

It had taken Buggy all of ten minutes to realize you were just standing there, frozen in place. His blinded rage had been terrifying, racing towards you as he screamed and cursed at you for standing there like an idiot.

“If you don’t start moving,” he’d hissed, “I’ll kill them all.”

Letting out a sob, you’d shaken your head in a pathetic attempt at refusal.

“Hah!” Buggy had laughed before you could respond, throwing his head back in jest. “I’m going to kill them regardless.”

“No,” you’d argued, stunning him. The word had left your lips beyond your control, blinded by your desperation. “Please, don’t.”

Realistically, it had been nothing more than a pathetic plea. Buggy and the crew wouldn’t stop until he was satisfied and you asking him definitely wasn’t going to change that.

A moment of tense and uncomfortable silence had followed. The entire island had seemingly fallen silent, the rage of the crew halted and the cries of the townsfolk paused at your small, pathetic plea. You’d watched firsthand the glint that had shifted in Buggy’s eyes as he stared you down.

In seconds, he’d grabbed a handful of your hair and begun yanking you towards the line of townspeople the crew had cornered. As you tried to pull his grip off of you, feet kicking up the dust of the ground beneath you, the townspeople started whimpering and cowering at Buggy’s approach.

Then, you found yourself forced to your knees in front of them.

Their wide, terrified eyes stare back at you. Women clutching their children who are crying, the men trying to protect them. At the front sits the mayor, eyes afraid but shoulders squared in a last attempt of defiance.

“My faithful fans,” Buggy calls out, gesturing to the townspeople who flinched back at him. “I’d like to introduce you to my most precious treasure, Y/N! Do any of you want to venture and guess what makes her so precious?”

Head bowing, your fingers dig into the ground beneath you, cutting through your skin as silence echoes.

When Buggy doesn’t receive a response, he lets out a growl and suddenly, his hands are on you. Without an ounce of gentleness, he rips the eyepatch off of your face, nails scratching against your cheek.

Instantly, there’s an echo of gasps from the townspeople.

“Ugly, isn’t it?” Buggy laughs, taking your chin in his grasp and forcing your head up, presenting you to the crowd. The action strains your neck but Buggy only pulls harder. He cruelly pets your cheek, frowning down at you as if feeling pity for your sorry state. “Not only does it take away the beauty of her other eye but she’s blind too! Hah! A beautiful freak. And a disobedient one at that.”

His eyes shift to you once more, narrowing his gaze as he tightens his grip.

You let out a cry in response, jerking in his grasp but you can’t twist yourself out of it.

“Why shouldn’t I just kill them all?” He asks you, using his free hand to gesture at the townspeople. “Why should they get to live?”

The cries and gasps of fear in response to Buggy’s words pierce your heart. You hear the whispers of them all, some begging for mercy, others trying to console and soothe; you don’t know if it’s for others or themselves. It’s heartbreaking; innocent people who’d been forced to bow and submit to a crazed man’s will.

Focusing on Buggy’s waiting gaze, you swallow thickly.

“B-Because,” you gasp, trying to ignore the ache of his grip. “Who… Who would watch your show?”

An echoed beat of silence follows, before Buggy blinks at you.

You use that as your chance.

“If you kill them, there’ll be no one to watch your g-great performances.”

He lets go of you, pulling back to sweep his gaze across the townspeople as you fall down, exhausted. The hand that had been on you moves to his chin, rubbing thoughtfully as the rest of the crew starts to make their way over.

“I can’t deny you’re right…” He mumbles, nodding to himself. You and the townspeople watch with bated breath, waiting for him to say more.

A minute later, he does. With a loud clap that makes you jump in fright and a maniacal smile returning to his face, Buggy turns to you.

“It’s decided!” He cheers, stepping towards you as you flinch back. “I’ll let them live.”

A breath of relief runs through and you hear the townspeople follow suit.

“But,” Buggy continues and your breath halts. “The cost of their life is on your shoulders, my dear.”

Brows furrowing, you shake your head. “Wh-What?

Buggy crouches in front of you, shoving his face into your own as he laughs. “Everytime any one of them steps out of line, it’ll be you that pays. In whatever way I see fit. That’s the price for their lives.”

Biting your lip, you feel your heart fall to the pit of your stomach. You should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy. That Buggy wouldn’t let it be that easy.

With strain, you push yourself up, moving so your hands are on your knees rather than crouched over into the ground. You grip your pants tightly, trying to ignore the race of your heart. You can feel the townspeople watching you, unsure, and the sneers of the rest of the crew as they laugh at your situation.

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Hmm?” Buggy taunts, leaning forward as if he hadn’t heard you. “What was that, dear?”

“Okay,” you repeat, louder, meeting his eyes. “As long as you let them live.”

All you receive in response is a laugh, loud and terrifying. With one final glance down at you, Buggy spins on the spot, practically prancing away from you.

The second his eyes are off of you, you sink to the ground.

“M-Miss?”

The voice is quiet, but still you hear it. Turning your head, you find the Mayor crouched down in front of you.

“Thank you.”

You blink back at him, silent. Silent because you don’t have the heart to tell him that there was no point thanking you—you might’ve spared their lives but that didn’t mean they were in any less danger.

You didn’t know how to tell them what a crazed monster Buggy was.

So you just don’t say anything.

A cry leaves your lips, knees digging into the hardwood and trying to ignore the violent shake of your body that follows at the sound of laughter.

With sweat beading on your skin and muscles aching in exhaustion, you glance at your feet the second you hear footsteps grow closer.

“Such a shame, Y/N.” Buggy coos down at you mockingly. “You still don’t have the moves perfected.”

Gritting your teeth, you huff; “that’s because you’ve never taught me them!”

A loud snap and radiating sting is what follows your outburst, a cry leaving your lips as you curl into yourself. Clutching your aching cheek, you glance up at Buggy.

“As a member of my crew and a freak of my performance, you should know the moves.” Buggy grunts down at you, shaking his head at you like you’re a petulant child. “Such a shame too. I’m sure our audience was looking forward to the performance too, right?”

At Buggy’s words and the sign held in their direction, a cheer of forced “yes’s” follow, echoing.

Angered at the sight of the chained ‘audience’, you shake your head. “They’d like to be set free.” You hiss, narrowing your eyes up at Buggy.

Buggy’s lips curl into a sneer. You curl back instantly, seeing the crazed look in his eyes.

Taking a step towards you, his hand disconnects from his wrist, moving towards you. “I’m sick and tired of you—“

“Captain! Captain!”

Suddenly Mohji comes running in, the flap of the tent flipping up behind him as he races towards Buggy with a grin.

“What?” Buggy hisses, his detached hand inches from you as he glares at Mohji. “Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“We caught them,” Mohji cheers, pointing behind him. “We’ve got the map!”

The instant the mayor speaks up, you fear the worst.

From the back of the crowd, hidden amongst the townspeople and the rest of the crew, you’d been deliberate in avoiding calling attention to yourself. The second the crew had brought in the crate they’d used to capture Luffy and his friends, you’d made it your goal to avoid being seen. You doubted Luffy would even remember you anyways, as you’d all but ran from him.

You feared how Buggy would react too in the slim chance Luffy did recognize you.

So, despite the discomfort you felt at watching Buggy torture Luffy, you’d forced yourself to remain silence and quiet. Even if you tried to stand up to Buggy and help Luffy, you wouldn’t be able to stop him.

All that would do is get you hurt and maybe others too.

Luffy was just some boy you’d randomly met in that bar. Met isn’t even the right word. He’d stopped you from falling and had tried to talk to you, but you’d turned tail and ran the second he had.

It was best you stayed hidden and hoped that Buggy would kill them soon and then you could just forget all about Luffy and his friends.

That’s what you should do.

That’s what you intended on doing.

“Hey, kid!”

Eyes widening, you watch as Buggy races towards the crowd, grabbing a kid by the neck.

“You want to get tall fast?”

Your body moves on instinct, feet taking you forward before you can even register what you’ve done.

“Buggy!”

Halting at the sound of your voice, the crowd stills, the child still in his grasp, Buggy twists his head to glance at you. Instantly, the smile on his face twists into a frown as he glares at you. Leaning back, his grip leaves the kid as he shakes his head.

“Was wondering where you snuck off too, Angel Eye.” He growls, and you inhale sharply.

“I thought the cost of their lives was on my shoulders,” you breathe, clenching your fists in an attempt to soothe the racing of your heart. “Leave the kid alone.”

Buggy hesitates, lips parting, but before he can say anything, Luffy’s voice cuts in;

“Hey,” he’s suddenly calling, voice light-hearted and not at all the tone someone should have in the predicament he’s currently stuck in. “Aren’t you the girl from the bar? The one who ran away?”

Body tensing, you freeze in place.

So he did recognize you.

Letting out a shaky breath, you slowly turn your head to meet Luffy’s waiting gaze, watching as his squinted eyes slowly widen in recognition.

“It is you!” He exclaims, laughing. “Where’s your cool eye patch?”

You don’t respond, terrified eyes turning back to Buggy who glances between you and Luffy.

“Please,” you choose instead to focus back on the kid, pleading. “Leave the boy alone. Let me pay the price for the mayor speaking out.” Pressing your hand to your chest, you plead.

Buggy stares at you for a moment, before letting out a loud laugh.

“I did once tell you that,” he snorts, “but I’ve changed my mind.”

He’s spinning, grabbing the kid and yanking him to his feet before you can even think to respond. You gasp in response, racing forward, but before you can reach him, Buggy has spun the boy and himself around to face Luffy.

“Boogie,” Luffy starts, “I’m warning you.”

Jerking the kid, Buggy hisses; “it’s Buggy! And you’re warning me? Now that’s a laugh.”

He pauses, and all that’s heard in response is the sound of the boy letting out a small gasp of fright.

“I said,” Buggy sighs, “that’s a laugh.”

Instantly, a chorus of forced and frightened laughter echoes.

“Buggy,” you call, “please. Don’t hurt him!”

You try to take a step towards Buggy but before you can make it a single step, your wrist is grabbed by another. You whip around in response, only to see the edge of a blade held directly at your throat. One of Buggy’s crew grins back at you.

You mentally curse yourself for being trapped so easily, useless to do anything to help the kid when the sound of Luffy yelling catches your attention.

His hands, which have been stretched wide thanks to the Gum Gum Devil Fruit he’d eaten, are slipping through the restraints holding him hostage. You watch with wide eyes and parted lips as he frees himself, falling to the ground with a thud the second his wrist slips through the cuff.

Standing, he glares at Buggy; “put him down.”

“But why?” Buggy laughs, and your eyes fall back on him in fear for the kid. “He’s having such a great time. Aren’t you, junior?”

To answer his own question, Buggy forces the kids lips into a smile.

“Yes,” he says in a child’s voice. “The best, Buggy.”

Luffy only hesitates a second, before he’s flinging his fist back, arm stretching like rubber behind him as he bellows; “gum gum…” Then, his hand swings forward, landing a hit right on Buggy’s face. “Pistol!”

You watch in shock he’d managed to land a hit on Buggy, but no hope floods you.

You know the ability Buggy holds.

As you expect, his head detaches from his neck, falling into the lap of one of the townspeople which causes an uproar of terror, screams following in response.

“Well, well, well,” Buggy calls from the lap he’d landed on, flipping his head round so it’s straight up. “Looks like we have something else in common,” he chuckles, before returning his head to his body. The only relief you feel is the sight of him letting the kid go.

“You ate a Devil Fruit?” Luffy asks.

“The Chop Chop Fruit,” Buggy clarifies, before stepping forward. As he does, he takes off his jacket before pieces of his body begin to separate for emphasis. “So you can slice me and you can dice me, but I’ll always put myself back together again. Wanna see what else I can do?”

Attached again, you watch as Buggy raises his right arm, the hand gone.

Your eyes widen.

“Luffy, watch—!”

It’s too late. The second Luffy’s head turns round, Buggy has already squashed the fruit in his grasp, effectively knocking Luffy out.

You watch his body hit the ground with a thud.

“Y/N,” Buggy calls, pulling your eyes on him as your whole body tenses. “Me and you need to have a little chat.”

“Let me out! Hey! Let me out!”

Shaking the bars of the cage, you know realistically no matter how loud you scream or hard you pull, no ones coming to get you nor are you getting free. Buggy had locked you in the familiar cage shortly after everything, locking it with a smile on his face and the promise that he’d come to set you free later.

When he felt like it.

And then you and him would hash out your “differences”, he’d said. Grinning and eyes shining with malice and intent to hurt, you’d tried to ask for his forgiveness but he’d only left you begging without a single glance back.

That had been fifteen, maybe twenty minutes ago and you hadn’t heard anything or seen Buggy or a single member of the crew.

It wasn’t the first time Buggy had locked you in this cage. You could no longer keep track of the amount of times you’d been forced into the small cage for “punishment”, whether by your own actions or those of the townspeople. You hated it and that’s exactly why Buggy kept you in here, because he knew how much it terrified you to be trapped like this.

It felt worse this time, though. Worse because you knew that Luffy was in danger and potentially the townspeople too. Buggy’s insistence to go after that boy showed you he was growing bored of using you as a scapegoat every time the townspeople did something he didn’t like. You knew no matter how much he hurt you, he’d never kill you. Buggy had some sort of sick fascination with you, and if he simply planned on getting rid of you, he would’ve done it already.

The townspeople though? Luffy? He’d definitely kill them.

“Please!” You bellow, voice screeching in your desperation as you shake the door of the cage, the metal clanging against itself with no give. “Buggy!”

The only thing you’re given in response is more silence.

Hugging your knees to your chest, you bite your lip to hold back the sob that threatens to pull from your lips. You were so sick of this. So sick of all of this. Being a captive of Buggy’s, forced to be his play thing day in and day out and watching innocent people be hurt and murdered around you constantly.

You hated it.

Feeling your eyes water, you sniffle, throat burning from your screaming and hands aching with how hard you’d been pulling as you accept the fact that Buggy was going to leave you here until he wanted to free you.

And you weren’t going to get out any other way.

A few minutes of silence pass, stuck in your thoughts and trying to keep the panic at bay, before footsteps echo. You sit up immediately, twisting the small bit you can in the cage, waiting to see the familiar face of Buggy walk through the tent.

Only, it isn’t Buggy who walks in.

It’s the green-haired swordsman you’d seen with Luffy.

He pauses at the sight of you as you gape up at him.

Then, a minute later, he’s blinking; “who are you?”

A second passes, one, two, and then your lips part in disbelief.

“What are you doing here?” You breath, bewildered. “Shouldn’t you be… Didn’t Buggy…?”

The man shrugs. “I was looking for booze,” he points behind himself. “I escaped.”

You’re absolutely floored.

“And Luffy?”

“He did too,” the man nods, shifting to set his hands on his swords again. You frown when you realize there’s three. “Clown guy’s defeated.”

That gives you pause. Wide eyed, you gape at him; “you defeated Buggy?”

“Naturally,” the man snorts.

Lips parting, you find no words to respond and instead, stare back at him as if he’d grown an additional head, baffled.

You don’t have to find the words though, because in the next second, a cheery voice is calling out; “Zoro!”

Luffy comes racing in through the tent in the next second, followed by the orange-haired girl. You blink, gripping the bars of your cage as you watch Luffy bound up to the man, Zoro, oblivious to the way he pulls away from him in response.

Then, Luffy’s eyes fall on you.

“Eyepatch girl!”

Zoro frowns. “She’s not wearing an eyepatch.”

“Ah, but she was!” Luffy cheers, pointing at you. “It was so cool!”

“We should hurry up,” the girl cuts in, looking unimpressed as her eyes flicker over you briefly before turning back to Luffy and Zoro. “I don’t want the marines catching up to us.”

“True, true,” Luffy nods.

“You find anything useful?” Zoro asks, glancing at the girl.

“Not really,” the girl shrugs, “most of it is just weird circus crap. Now,” she shifts to Luffy. “Can we go?”

You watch the whole conversation in astonished silence. It doesn’t even occur to you to ask them what happened, if Buggy’s whole crew was defeated or most importantly set you free. The whole nonchalance of their conversation stuns you stupid.

“Should let the girl go, no?” Zoro asks, pointing at you. You straighten when the attention is turned to you. “Or am I the only one noticing she’s in a cage?”

The girl's eyes meet yours before settling on the large lock keeping you trapped. “I found a set of keys on one of the guys. Here.” She slips past Zoro and Luffy, heading towards you. Stopping right in front of you, she starts filtering through the keys.

“It’s, uh, that one,” you point at one smaller key. “I’ve seen it before when, well, the other times I’ve been locked in here.” Your voice quiets as you finish your sentence, curling in on yourself at the attention that garners you.

The girl just nods.

In the next minute, you’re on your feet, standing in front of the three of them.

“Now can we go?”

“Sure, Nami,” Luffy grins, “just one last thing.”

He’s spinning round to face you, and then his hands are on your shoulders and his beaming smile is focused solely on you.

“Join my crew.”

Silence.

Then, “what?”

You, Zoro and Nami all echo it, voices loud, pitched and in disbelief as Luffy just grins at you.

“You were a part of Buggy’s crew, yeah?” He asks and you slowly nod. “Perfect, then you’ve already got the experience.”

“What, I—” Stumbling over your words, you shake your head. “You don’t even know my name. I mean… I was a part of Buggy’s crew. The same crew who just held you all captive! Shouldn’t that make me… like your guys’ enemy or something?”

“Nah,” Luffy waves you off. “You looked pretty miserable with him. Not to mention, we found you in a cage. Plus, I saw you stand up for that kid. That’s the kind of person I need on my crew.”

You just stare at him, then Zoro, then the girl, and though they look unimpressed, you notice they are staring back at you almost as if they expect you to come with them too.

Were any of these people normal?

“I’m a lousy fighter.”

“No problem,” Luffy shrugs. “Zoro can teach you.”

“Don’t volunteer me,” Zoro huffs, bopping Luffy on the head.

He doesn’t argue though.

“I’m a freak.” You say, trying to come up with a reason why asking you to come with them was a terrible choice. You figured since Buggy had spent enough of his time reminding you of the fact, surely Luffy would agree.

Luffy shakes his head. “Your eyes are cool! They don’t even match,” he laughs, “and I like your eyepatch too.”

“Luffy,” the girl hisses at him, lowering her voice. “Have some tact. She’s… blind in her right eye.”

Luffy turns to look at her, before turning back to you, lips parted and head tilted as if in curiosity.

“It’s true,” you mumble, pressing your hand to your eye, covering it from sight. You definitely needed to find your eyepatch. You hated not having it on. “I can’t see anything with this eye. Another reason why you shouldn’t want me on your crew. I’m… I’d be no help…”

You don’t dare glance at any of them, fearing the looks you’d receive in response. You didn’t want to see their pity and you definitely don’t want to see the disgust on their faces at your disability.

“That—!”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go, right?” Zoro cuts off whatever Luffy had been about to say. You meet his eyes in disbelief, not expecting him to be the one to speak up before frowning and giving him a nod. “Might as well come with us then.”

Staring at him a moment longer, you let your eyes fall on the girl, who simply shrugs back at you before turning back to Luffy’s beaming expression. He nods at you excitedly, eagerly urging you to agree.

Not knowing how else to decline and knowing deep in your heart you don’t want to, you nod.

“O-Okay.”

After Luffy had backtracked to grab a single bun of the food the mayor and town had tried to offer them, you hesitate on following.

Your eyes follow him as he jumps up on the boat and you see the three of them staring back at you, waiting. But your feet won’t move. There’s a moment where you just stand there, before you turn, bowing your head down and saying the words you’ve wanted to say since that day Buggy had landed on Orange Island.

“I’m so sorry.”

Eyes falling shut, you grip the sides of your shirt, waiting for the anger you expect to receive from the townspeople. You’d been a part of the crew that had tortured them and destroyed their town; you wouldn’t be surprised if they wanted to kill you themselves.

When you don’t hear anything, you slowly glance up at them.

Only to see them all smiling down at you.

“We should be the ones apologizing,” the mayor dismisses, shaking his head at you as he urges you to stand back up. “And thanking you. You saved our lives that day.”

Shoulders falling, something warm floods you at his words in the midst of the astonishment you feel.

“We owe you a great deal, little lady.” The mayor nods, and before you can say anything, the whole town is bowing to you. They move in sync with each other, heads bowed and you can hardly believe your eyes. “Thank you.”

“I… Oh!” Hands falling to your lips, you ignore the way your vision blurs through your watery left eye, shaking your head. “Please, it’s okay! I’m… I’m just relieved you’re all free now thanks to them.”

They slowly stand up, and you let your gaze sweep across the crowd.

“I wish you the best of luck with your journey,” the mayor smiles down at you. “And hope to see you again someday.”

You smile at him one last time, stepping back as you wave to the townspeople. They return your wave, sending you all off with smiles and wishes of good luck.

Then, as you reach the boat, you find Luffy grinning back down at you.

“Let’s go!”