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While staying at an island to gather resources, your captain scratched himself while moving supplies.
Despite being a Yonko, he could be an incredibly clumsy man. He might be untouchable when up against other men or any living organism, but non-living things apparently didn't count.
He had sustained a deep scratch that caused minor bleeding in his one and only arm. He just laughed it off, saying it would heal soon, but you didn't like that mindset. He was incredibly strong, but sometimes small wounds could cause far more harm than big ones. A tiny scratch could easily get infected,
"better safe than sorry" as they say.
You were both at a small local tavern when you decided to slip away to find a store that sold disinfectants and bandages. You remembered seeing a nearby pharmacy; it would be much quicker to go there than to trek all the way back to the ship for Hongo’s medical supplies, which was way too much of a hassle.
It would probably only take five minutes, so you decided to leave discreetly while he was busy talking to Yasopp and Beckman.
You successfully slipped out of the loud tavern and walked at a fast pace toward the store.
Once there, you bought a small bottle of disinfectant and some gauze.
After making your purchase, you left the store and hurried back, clutching the bag tightly.
You couldn't wait to treat his wound. Part of it was genuine concern, but a much larger part of you just wanted an excuse to care for him and be near him.
A chance to get physically close to your captain. You blushed at the very thought.
When you arrived back at the tavern door, Shanks wasn't sitting at the table with the rest of the crew anymore. Instead, he was sitting at a table closer to the entrance.
And he wasn't alone. A local girl was sitting with him, carefully wrapping a dressing around his arm.
"He's already receiving treatment..." you mumbled, a sharp pang of disappointment hitting your chest.
He was smiling at her. It was just a polite, friendly smile, but that didn't stop a wave of jealousy from washing over you.
While you were lost in your thoughts, Shanks glanced toward the door and spotted you standing there.
"Y/N...?"
His voice snapped you back to reality.
"What are you carrying there?" he asked with excited curiosity.
You quickly hid the bag behind your back.
Great, now it looks even more suspicious.
"Nothing."
That response only made it worse. Shanks raised his eyebrows. You slowly began to back away, taking backward steps that grew faster with every second.
Shanks noticed something was wrong with the way you were acting, so he stood up.
That was your signal to run.
"HEY—!"
You bolted. You hugged the bag tightly against your chest with both hands, clutching it as if your life depended on it.
You were a fast runner, but Shanks easily caught up to you. He trailed just behind you—not quite close enough to grab you, but not far enough to lose.
“Why are you running?!” he shouted, laughing.
“I’M NOT!” you yelled back.
“YOU ARE LITERALLY RUNNING!”
You whipped around a sharp corner. You almost slipped, but you caught your balance and kept going.
“…Why are you doing this?!” he shouted, still chuckling.
“STOP FOLLOWING ME!”
“NOT UNTIL YOU STOP!”
You detoured into a narrow alleyway that led to another main street. You managed to lose sight of him, but only for about five seconds.
Why is he so damn fast?!
Your breath was growing ragged, and fatigue was setting in, but you refused to give up yet. Up ahead, you saw a street running close to the water.
Your plan was simple: once you made it there, you would throw the bag into the ocean and pretend it never existed.
You didn't want Shanks to see it. It was too embarrassing to admit you had bought medical supplies when he had already been treated; you would look like you cared entirely too much.
You were so lost in your panic that you forgot to look where you were going.
Big mistake.
"Hey! Watch out—!"
You stumbled blindly over a stack of crates left on the ground. To make matters worse, the pavement was slick and slippery.
And just when you thought your misery couldn't get any worse, Shanks tripped right after you, crashing directly on top of you.
You both went down hard. Your back hit the ground, forcing a wince from your lips.
Shanks was hovering over you, pinning you down with his legs and using his sole arm for support.
Your faces were mere inches apart. His breath tickled your skin, and you could practically hear the steady thumping of his heartbeat.
He was so, so close. The only distance between you was a pocket of air.
You found yourself staring directly into his eyes. Those sharp, crimson eyes felt like they were peering into your very soul, and you almost lost yourself in them.
Pulling together what little sanity you had left, you turned your head sideways.
“…Get OFF. ” you snapped, though your face was burning hot, your cheeks turning a shade of red that rivaled his hair.
"It was your fault." he smirked above you.
Your blush deepened. You gave him a firm shove, and he rolled slightly off you but he didn't move far.
Suddenly, his eyes flicked down to the ground beside you.
“…What’s that?” he asked.
You froze. You sat up straight and looked over.
Oh no...
The bag had ripped. The bandages and medicine bottles had spilled out, scattering across the pavement. Your brain completely shut down.
Shanks saw it all. You couldn't even bring yourself to look at him. You heard him let out a soft gasp.
"Wait... what is that—?"
"Uh, it's nothing." you said immediately.
He blinked at you. “…Nothing?”
You scrambled forward, desperately trying to gather the items back up. “…Just stuff!”
Before you could reach it, he picked up one of the bottles. He looked at it, and then he looked at you.
“…Medicine?” he asked softly. "...Is it for me?"
His voice was quiet, sounding genuinely touched.
“…Not for you!” you replied way too quickly.
He paused, and then a smile spread across his face. It wasn't a teasing smirk or a smug grin. It was just a bright, beautiful smile.
“…Not for me?” he repeated softly.
“…No.” you insisted, snatching the bag back.
"Definitely not yours."
"So, you needed bandages and disinfectants?"
“…Hongo needed them.” you mumbled. You tried to sound confident, but it was an incredibly obvious lie.
"…Hongo?"
"Yeah. He told me to go get a resupply."
Shanks chuckled.
"Love, the ship is full of medicine and medical supplies. We're practically drowning in them."
"..."
You ran out of excuses. It was over; he knew.
This is so embarrassing.
Shanks burst out laughing, a loud, booming cackle. Your entire face flared crimson.
“…You’re really bad at this." he managed to say through his laughter.
You glared at him before covering your face with both hands, trying to hide the furious blush creeping up your neck. You groaned into your palms.
"I hate this—"
You didn't get to finish your sentence because, suddenly, he pulled you in.
It was a tight, fierce embrace, yet it felt incredibly soft. It felt like everything.
You froze at the sudden warmth of your captain, your eyes widening in shock.
Shanks was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes softening with deep affection.
“…Shanks—?!”
His single arm wrapped completely around you, holding you flush against him.
“…You went out just to buy this for me." he cooed, teasing you with a playful, affectionate voice.
“…I didn’t.” you mumbled weakly against his shoulder.
He let out a soft laugh.
“…Yeah, you did.”
Your fingers instinctively gripped his shirt—a faint, barely noticeable hold, but he felt it.
He squeezed you tighter, playfully shaking you in his embrace out of pure, joyful excitement.
His laughter wasn't mocking or mean; it was the sound of someone who felt deeply adored and moved.
He was happy. Truly, deeply happy.
You pulled back just enough to look up at him.
“…Why are you laughing so much?” you asked.
His grin softened into a heartwarming, genuine smile that seemed to light up the entire world. His eyes were filled with pure adoration.
“…Because you care about me."
Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly looked away, panicking.
"Y-You don't even need it anymore. You already got patched up by that girl—"
Using his teeth, Shanks quickly and deftly ripped the cloth dressing right off his arm.
"Patched up? What do you mean?"
he asked, raising his eyebrows with a sly, innocent smile, acting as if he hadn't just ruined the medical work right in front of you.
"Shanks!" You hit his chest softly.
"Looks like I need to get treated right now, or this wound might open up." he feigned pain, wincing dramatically.
"You can handle it."
"You say that, but you still bought me medical supplies."
You glared at him, but there was no real anger behind it. He laughed again, leaning down to pull you back into another warm embrace.
...
“…Thanks.” he murmured softly.
Your breath caught in your throat.
“…You’re annoying.” you whispered, trying to sound annoyed but you were obviously flustered.
“…And you care.” he replied.
You didn’t deny it this time. Because it was true. You care for your captain.
You care for Shanks.
And even though you and your captain had just crashed onto the street like a pair of clumsy idiots, you didn't move away. You stayed right there in his arms,letting the hug last for a long, quiet minute.
You just took your time to enjoy the opportunity to be held by the man you love.
"Just become my wife already."
"Shanks—!"