Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Mihawk stared at Buggy with a piercing gaze, his golden eyes like those of a hawk scrutinizing its prey. The air in the room was heavy with residual humidity, carried by the rain that had stopped outside but still left droplets trickling down the fogged windows. The large house, nestled on the edge of a rocky coast, smelled of sea salt mixed with the earthy scent of wet soil. The wooden floor creaked slightly under Buggy's steps, who held in his arms a little girl with disheveled pink hair, her pale face marked by fear. Her soaked clothes clung to her skin, spreading a damp coolness that contrasted with the warmth of the crackling fire in the massive living room fireplace.

"Who is this girl, Buggy? And why does she look so scared?" asked Mihawk, his deep and measured voice echoing like a distant echo in the spacious room. He crossed his arms, his black coat floating slightly around him, brushing the polished floor.

Buggy, with his red nose and clownish makeup still intact despite the rain, held the little one tighter against him. "I found her asleep under a bench in a park. It was pouring rain, I couldn't leave her there, all alone in that cold downpour." His voice was a mix of defiance and tenderness, his hands trembling slightly from the cold he had endured himself.

Crocodile, seated in a worn leather armchair near the window, exhaled a puff of smoke from his cigar, the acrid smell of tobacco mingling with that of the burning wood. His violet eyes, cold like the desert he evoked, settled on the little girl. He exchanged a glance with Mihawk, a silent agreement passing between them. They knew Buggy had a heart too big for his own good, but this impulsiveness could complicate their already chaotic life. The wind outside howled softly against the panes, like a murmur of warning.

Mihawk approached slowly, his boots clacking on the floor with military precision. He crouched down to get to the little one's level, feeling the heat of the fire radiating against his back. "Hello, young girl. Can you tell us your name?"

The girl's voice was a trembling whisper, barely audible over the crackling flames. "Perona, 8 years old." Her violet eyes, wide and filled with terror, avoided any contact, instead fixing on the intricate oriental rug under her bare and dirty feet.

Mihawk and Crocodile froze for a moment, surprised by her young age and the obvious solitude surrounding her. The air seemed heavier, charged with a palpable sadness. Mihawk, accustomed to bloody battles and unforgiving seas, felt an unusual pang of compassion tightening his chest. He crouched lower, his knees brushing the soft rug, and adopted a softer tone, like the purring of a calm wind. "Perona… that's a pretty name. What happened to you? Where are your parents?"

Perona lowered her eyes to the ground, her small hands clutching the wet fabric of her dress. The silence stretched, punctuated only by the distant ticking of an ancient clock in the adjacent hallway. The smell of rain on her clothes was persistent, a damp reminder of her abandonment. Mihawk noticed her reluctance, her frail shoulders trembling slightly, and he placed a light hand on her arm, feeling the coldness of her skin against his calloused palm.

"You don't have to be afraid, we're here to help you. Can you tell us why you were all alone in the park under the rain?"

Perona shrugged, her damp hair sticking to her pale forehead. But after a moment, as if the words were torn from her tight throat, she murmured: "They're all gone… my father, my mother, and the others have all disappeared. I'm all alone now." Her voice broke at the end, and a tear rolled down her cheek, hot and salty, contrasting with the ambient cold.

Crocodile, still seated, crossed his legs, the leather of his armchair creaking under his weight. "How long?" His voice was hoarse, imbued with the smell of his cigar.

Perona nodded, her pink hair swaying slightly. "Yes, for a long time…" The word "long time" echoed like an empty reverberation, evoking solitary nights under stormy skies, rumbling stomachs, and childish fears amplified by the darkness.

Mihawk observed Perona's sad expression, her fine features marked by a fatigue that had no place on such a young face. He felt an unexpected wave of protectiveness, like the edge of his sword turning into a shield. Crocodile and he then noticed Buggy's pleading look, his blue eyes sparkling with hope under his makeup smudged by the rain. They understood immediately: Buggy wanted to keep her.

Crocodile sighed, crushing his cigar in a crystal ashtray that tinkled softly. "Buggy, you can't bring home a child like that without thinking." His voice carried the authority of a former desert lord, but there was a hint of resignation.

Buggy made an exaggerated pout, his lips painted red forming a theatrical curve. "Baby Croccy! Darling Hawky! You're not going to tell me you want to leave Perona outside?" He held the little one against him, feeling her frail body slowly warming against his chest.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, a mix of conflict and amusement. Mihawk, with his eternal stoicism, couldn't suppress a smirk at Buggy's beaten puppy expression. Crocodile, more serious, rubbed his hook against his palm, the cold metal emitting a slight screech. "Buggy, it's not that simple. She obviously has no one else, but there are many things to consider when taking care of a child."

Buggy tilted his head, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Did I tell you I bought new sexy lingerie?" The transition was abrupt, like a gust of wind changing the direction of the waves.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, amused despite himself. The air charged with a different tension, warmer, contrasting with the residual coolness of the rain. Crocodile, however, remained impassive, though his lips tightened slightly. "Oh really? And how is that supposed to convince us, Buggy?"

Buggy shifted slightly, feeling the wet fabric of his clothes sticking to his skin. "I don't know, there's black lace, your favorite color, a corset, gloves because I know you liked them when I wore them, and knee-high stockings." His voice lowered a tone, suggestive, evoking tactile images: the silky softness of the lace against the skin, the firm grip of the corset, the slide of the stockings on smooth legs.

Mihawk, who had maintained his seriousness until then, felt a heat rising in him. His eyes widened imperceptibly, imagining Buggy in that outfit – the black lace contrasting with his pale skin, the long gloves brushing familiar contours, the stockings rising to the knees, inviting and provocative. The smell of the fire suddenly seemed more intense, as if it amplified internal sensations.

"Hmph, I see you're trying to bribe us," muttered Mihawk, his voice a bit huskier than usual.

Buggy smiled triumphantly, sensing victory approaching. "Never, I might have forgotten to mention that I bought a necklace with your initials to enhance the outfit." He instinctively touched his neck, imagining the cold metal of the necklace against his warm skin.

Mihawk cleared his throat, embarrassed by how easily Buggy tempted him. The room seemed smaller, the air more charged with electricity, like before a storm. Crocodile, observing the scene, couldn't suppress a smirk, his white teeth contrasting with his tanned skin. "Hmm, a necklace with our initials, huh? You know how to get our attention, Buggy."

"Of course, can we keep Perona?" insisted Buggy, his voice a mix of supplication and seduction.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged one last glance, knowing they were giving in. But Mihawk, always the strategist, set a condition. He approached Buggy, pulling him toward him with a firm hand on his waist, feeling the warmth of his body through the damp clothes. "Very well, we can consider keeping Perona. But on one condition."

Buggy looked up, curious. "I'm waiting."

Mihawk smiled, a knowing glint in his golden eyes. "Well, if we agree to keep Perona, you'll have to show us that lace outfit you bought…" His voice lowered, suggestive, his fingers brushing Buggy's back, sending shivers down his spine.

"Of course," Buggy replied without hesitation, a shiver of anticipation running through him.

Mihawk smiled broadly, satisfied. Crocodile nodded, his hook gleaming in the firelight. "It's agreed. Perona will stay with us. And Buggy, don't forget to show us that lace outfit later."

"Promise me, Croccy!" exclaimed Buggy, laughing softly, the sound resonating like bells in the room.

*-*-*-*-*

Later, the house filled with enticing smells. Mihawk busied himself in the kitchen, his movements precise like those of a swordsman. The air was saturated with the scent of fresh bread coming out of the oven, golden and crispy, mixed with the spicy aroma of a stew simmering on the stove – tender meat, fresh vegetables cut into even pieces, herbs from the garden still damp with dew. The clinking of knives on the wooden cutting board rhythmed his gestures, and hot steam rose, slightly fogging the kitchen windows overlooking a dark garden, lit by the rising moon.

Crocodile, for his part, arranged the guest room upstairs. The floor creaked under his heavy steps, and he laid fresh sheets on the bed, feeling the soft and clean fabric under his fingers. The lavender scent of the pillows filled the room, a soothing contrast to the outside humidity. He turned on a bedside lamp, its warm light casting soft shadows on the walls papered with faded floral patterns. Improvised toys – a forgotten plush and a storybook – were placed on a shelf, adding a childish touch to the space.

Once the meal was ready, Mihawk set the table carefully, the porcelain plates tinkling lightly, the silver cutlery gleaming under the candle lit in the center. "Come on, come eat," he called, his voice carrying to the living room where Perona had curled up near Buggy on the sofa, wrapped in a warm and fluffy blanket that smelled clean.

They all sat at the table, the polished wood under their elbows, the warmth of the stew heating the air. Perona, now washed and dressed in an oversized but comfortable pajama, smelled of strawberry soap on her skin. Her pink hair, dried and brushed, cascaded in soft curls. She seemed more relaxed, her shoulders less tense, though her eyes still betrayed a persistent shyness.

"How do you feel, Perona?" asked Buggy, ladling stew into her bowl, steam rising in fragrant swirls.

Perona looked up, a small shy smile on her lips, feeling the warmth of the bowl against her cold palms. "I feel better now... Thank you for everything." Her voice was more assured, carried by the comfort of the meal – the crunch of vegetables, the tenderness of the meat melting in the mouth, the hot buttered bread cracking under the teeth.

"This is your new home, you can take your time of course," replied Buggy, chewing a bite, the spicy juice tingling his tongue.

Perona nodded, her eyes expressing deep gratitude. Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance over the table, happy to see the little one opening up. Dinner continued in a warm atmosphere, light conversations covering the distant sound of the sea pounding the rocks far away. For the first time in a long while, Perona felt an inner warmth, not only from the meal but from a budding sense of security, enveloped by the familiar smells of an improvised family.

As the evening progressed, the house seemed to breathe with them – the fire crackling softly, the rain starting to patter gently on the roof again, like a lullaby. Buggy, true to his promise, slipped a knowing glance at Mihawk and Crocodile, anticipating the night ahead. Perona, exhausted but soothed, fell asleep later in her new room, the soft bed enveloping her like a cocoon, while outside, the wind whispered promises of a better future.

🤡🐊🦅🩷

Chapter Text

In just two months, Perona had become an integral part of their makeshift family, a little pink ray of sunshine illuminating the shadowy corners of their grand seaside home. The salty ocean air constantly permeated the space, mingling with the earthy scent of the climbing vines that hugged the outer walls, their leaves rustling softly in the coastal breeze. Mihawk and Crocodile had gradually grown accustomed to her presence, though Mihawk maintained a strictly formal demeanor around her, his movements as precise as the edge of his sword, striving to stay within his element as a solitary master swordsman. Buggy, on the other hand, had forged a warmer, more playful bond with her, constantly teasing her with colorful gifts—frilly dresses in vibrant hues, sparkling accessories like star-shaped hair clips or rainbow-beaded necklaces—and jokes that erupted into his clownish laughter, ringing like joyful bells through the spacious hallways.

Over the weeks, Perona felt increasingly at ease with her new guardians, as if the cold walls of the house, once steeped in austere solitude, had warmed under the touch of their daily interactions. She spent hours talking with them, learning and growing. From Mihawk, she absorbed tales of the seas—the metallic scent of his polished sword, the faint whistle of wind in imagined sails. Buggy regaled her with extravagant pirate adventures, his theatrical gestures making the light curtains flutter at the windows. Crocodile, his hook glinting under the soft glow of oil lamps, taught her the patience of the desert, his stories laced with rugged wisdom, accompanied by the acrid scent of his cigar drifting slowly through the air, blending tobacco with sea salt. The house, once a silent bastion battered by waves, was now filled with crystalline laughter, the clinking of cutlery during shared meals, and a palpable sense of a budding family, like a warm blanket wrapping a once-frozen heart.

---

Perona stepped lightly into the living room, her little pink shoes tapping softly on the polished wooden floor, which reflected the golden glow of the setting sun filtering through the large bay windows. The air carried an autumnal sweetness, with the sugary scent of freshly picked apples resting in a ceramic bowl on the low coffee table. Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy were seated there, talking in low voices, their tones blending into a harmonious murmur like the distant lapping of waves on the rocks below. She paused at the threshold, listening, a shy smile brightening her pale face, her cheeks flushing slightly with the simple joy of feeling included. The silky fabric of her new dress, a gift from Buggy adorned with cute ghost patterns, brushed against her legs, offering a comforting embrace.

Buggy, with his red nose and vibrant makeup, looked up first, his eyes sparkling with affection. “Need something, my princess?” he asked in a sing-song voice, extending a hand adorned with colorful rings toward her.

Perona felt her heart flutter in her chest, like a little bird both startled and delighted, at the sound of the affectionate nickname that made her feel special. She shrugged, her voice tinged with shyness, a soft whisper like the rustle of leaves outside. “Um, I just wanted to ask you something…”

She hesitated for a moment, her thumbs nervously twisting the hem of her dress, the fabric cool and soft against her skin. Her violet eyes fixed on the floor, where an oriental rug with intricate patterns absorbed the light, casting dancing shadows. The living room’s atmosphere was warm, with the quiet crackle of a fire in the hearth spreading comforting heat, contrasting with the cool breeze slipping through a slightly open window, carrying the briny scent of the sea.

“Well… I was just curious… Why did you agree to take care of me? You know, when you found me…” she finally stammered, timidly raising her eyes to Buggy, whose smile widened like a rainbow after the rain.

Buggy burst into joyful laughter, his shoulders shaking, and gently pulled her onto the couch beside him, feeling the softness of her pink hair against his shoulder. “Oh, my darling, you’re the best thing that’s happened to us! Since our marriage, at least.” His voice was filled with exaggerated, theatrical tenderness, yet utterly sincere, and he gently pinched her cheek, eliciting a small giggle from Perona.

She looked up, surprised by his open and warm response, her eyes widening like newborn stars. Her gaze then shifted to Crocodile and Mihawk, waiting for their answers with childlike curiosity, her small hands clutching the couch’s cushion, its velvet softness tickling her palms.

Crocodile, lounging with elegant nonchalance, his hook resting on the armrest and glinting faintly under the lamp, gave a crooked smile, exhaling a puff of smoke that formed a fragrant cloud around him. He leaned forward, the leather of the couch creaking under his weight, and fixed his green eyes on her. “Let’s just say we saw a little pink thing lost and in need of some help. And Buggy’s right—you’re the best thing that’s happened to us, despite his knack for dragging us into his antics.” His raspy voice carried a hint of humor, and he reached out with his good hand to gently ruffle Perona’s hair, feeling its silkiness under his calloused fingers, a rare gesture that melted her heart.

Mihawk, who had remained silent until then, leaning back in his chair with impeccable posture, his hat tilted to partially shade his piercing golden eyes, confirmed Crocodile’s words with a simple nod. The silence he imposed was heavy with meaning, but when he spoke, his deep voice resonated like a calm echo in the room. “Indeed, you’ve brought life to this house. And we’re glad to have you with us now.” He crossed his arms, but a subtle smile softened his stern features, and Perona felt a wave of warmth wash over her, as if the hearth’s fire had touched her soul.

Perona felt a gentle warmth flood her little heart, like a sunbeam piercing the clouds after a storm. Her eyes sparkled, a genuine smile lighting up her face, making her cheeks glow a shade brighter than her hair. For the first time in so long, she felt safe, loved, wrapped in a cocoon of affection. “I’m happy to be here with all of you. Thank you for making me part of your family,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion but filled with pure joy.

Perona laughed then, a crystalline and joyful sound that filled the room like a light melody, and she let herself be swept into Buggy’s arms, feeling his warm and protective embrace, scented with the familiar sweetness of his makeup and the sea. Mihawk and Crocodile joined them, forming a familial circle around her, their arms crossing in a collective hug. Perona felt enveloped by the warmth and affection of her guardians—the rough fabric of Mihawk’s coat against her cheek, the cold but reassuring touch of Crocodile’s hook brushing her back, and Buggy’s laughter vibrating against her ear. She closed her eyes, savoring the moment, breathing deeply the mingled scents of tobacco, polished metal, and sea salt, feeling truly at home. Cradled by Buggy’s joyful laughter and the reassuring presence of Mihawk and Crocodile, she knew her life had taken a happy turn, like a flower blooming under a benevolent sun.

The men gently broke the embrace, each ruffling Perona’s head with a tender gesture. Mihawk smiled at her, a rare glint of softness in his eyes, then stood, his coat flowing slightly, brushing the rug. “It’s about time for bed, princess,” he said in a firm but affectionate voice, like a command wrapped in velvet.

Perona nodded shyly, feeling a small yawn rising within her, her eyelids heavy with joyful fatigue. She slid off Buggy’s lap, the fabric of her dress rumpled but comfortable, and looked at the three men in turn, smiling with gratitude that illuminated her features. “Okay, good night, everyone,” she replied, her voice a soft murmur, like a gentle breeze.

“See you tomorrow, my princess! Sleep well,” Buggy called with an exaggerated wink, waving his hand like a clown on stage, prompting one last giggle from her.

Perona raised her hand in a farewell gesture, her slender fingers tracing a graceful arc in the air, then headed to her room with a dancing step, her smile unwavering. The hallway was lit by wall lamps casting a warm, golden glow, creating soft shadows on the walls adorned with faded nautical patterns. The fresh lavender scent of clean sheets already wafted through the air, a soothing fragrance that greeted her as she pushed open her bedroom door.

Inside, the room enveloped her like a cozy nest: pale pink walls adorned with her own drawings—smiling ghosts and floating hearts—a bed with soft sheets and a patchwork quilt sewn by Buggy in vibrant, uneven colors. She undressed slowly, feeling the cool fabric of her dress slide over her skin, then slipped into her soft cotton nightgown, scented with dried flowers and cleanliness. In front of an antique mirror with a gilded frame, she gently washed her face with a damp cloth, the lukewarm water running over her skin like a refreshing caress, washing away the day’s traces.

Finally, she slipped under the covers of her comfortable bed, the mattress sinking slightly under her light weight, wrapping her body in welcome warmth. The distant sound of waves lulled the house, a steady and soothing rhythm, mixed with the occasional hoot of an owl in the garden. Perona closed her eyes, her heart beating calmly, filled with deep peace. Images of the day flashed through her mind: shared laughter, warm embraces, the familiar scents of her new family. She fell asleep with a smile, dreaming of joyful ghosts dancing under a starry sky, knowing that tomorrow would bring more cute and familial moments in this house that was now her home.

Over those two months, daily routines had woven a tapestry of tender memories. In the mornings, Mihawk prepared breakfast with military precision: the aroma of freshly ground coffee mingling with the sizzle of frying eggs, golden toast crunching under the teeth. Perona sat at the table, her feet swinging under the too-high chair, and Crocodile handed her a mug of hot chocolate, its sweet steam rising in swirls, warming her small hands. Buggy, always the last to rise, burst in with a silly joke that sparked everyone’s laughter, turning the meal into a moment of pure joy.

Afternoons were dedicated to learning and play. Mihawk taught her basic swordsmanship, the cold metal of the training sword in her hands, the sun warming her skin as the salty breeze whipped her hair. “Focus on your balance, princess,” he’d say in a firm voice, but his eyes betrayed paternal pride when she parried a strike. Crocodile, seated in the shade of a tree, read old books with her, the yellowed pages under their fingers, the scent of aged leather filling the air, explaining the world’s mysteries with infinite patience.

Buggy, true to himself, organized “adventures” in the garden: treasure hunts with candies hidden under fragrant rose bushes or puppet shows with homemade marionettes, their comical voices echoing in the fresh air. Perona laughed heartily, feeling the sun on her skin, the soft grass under her bare feet, and the enveloping affection of her guardians.

Evenings were the most magical: around the fire, with the scent of crackling wood, they shared stories. Perona curled up against Buggy, feeling his heartbeat against her ear, while Mihawk and Crocodile added their anecdotes, their voices forming a familial harmony. These moments strengthened their bond, transforming three solitary pirates and an orphan into a united family, full of cuteness and warmth.

🤡🐊🦅🩷

Chapter Text

Perona was comfortably nestled between Mihawk and Crocodile on the large leather sofa in the living room, the familiar scent of aged leather blending with that of the warm popcorn in a wooden bowl resting on the coffee table. The flickering light from the screen cast colorful glimmers across their faces as a Disney movie filled the room with soft melodies and cheerful dialogue. Perona, a radiant smile on her lips, was absorbed in the story, her violet eyes captivated by the animated characters dancing across the screen. The salty sea breeze slipped through a half-open window, making the light curtains flutter, while the fire crackled gently in the fireplace, spreading a comforting warmth through the cool evening air.

Mihawk, one arm draped around Perona’s frail shoulders, sat straight and composed, his black coat contrasting with the pale fabric of the girl’s ghost-patterned dress. Crocodile, seated on the other side, occasionally released a puff of cigar smoke, its acrid scent mingling with the sweet smell of popcorn. Suddenly, the door burst open with a bang, shaking the walls and jolting everyone from the screen. Buggy stormed in, his exuberant laughter filling the room like a gust of joyous wind, his colorful clothes splattered with saltwater stains — probably from the sea spray along the coast.

Perona, startled, screamed with joy and leapt from the couch, her little pink shoes clacking against the polished floor. “Daddy!” she exclaimed, running toward Buggy and throwing herself into his arms with overflowing affection, her pink hair flying around her face. Almost a year had passed since Perona began living with them, and her love for Buggy was expressed in that nickname — “daddy” — which she pronounced with natural tenderness, as if she had always known him that way. Buggy hugged her tight, breathing in the familiar scent of sweet makeup and sea salt — a mixture that, for her, meant safety and joy.

Mihawk, ever observant, narrowed his golden eyes as he noticed a small figure hiding behind Buggy’s leg. A flicker of apprehension crossed his heart at the thought that Buggy might once again have brought home a stray child, just as he had done with Perona. He exchanged a quick glance with Crocodile, seeking an answer in his violet eyes, but Crocodile merely raised an eyebrow, equally perplexed. The presence of this new person took them all by surprise. Perona froze mid-embrace, her joyous expression faltering as her eyes fell on a young boy with bright green hair and gray eyes like a stormy sky. A wave of worry washed over her — the thought that Buggy might abandon her for another child made her chest tighten. She bit her lower lip and looked up at Buggy, her small fingers clutching nervously at the hem of her dress.

Crocodile, sensing Perona’s confusion and anxiety, rose from the sofa, the leather creaking beneath his weight. He joined Mihawk, who stood tall, his coat rippling slightly in the sea breeze. “Buggy, who is this?” he asked in his deep, raspy voice, tinged with suspicion, the tip of his cigar glowing red in the dim light.

Buggy, grinning brightly, ran a hand through his tousled blue hair. “His name is Zoro,” he replied simply, as if bringing home a child was the most natural thing in the world.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, a look of understanding passing between them. The situation felt all too familiar — almost an echo of when Perona had arrived a year earlier. Mihawk frowned, his sharp gaze fixed on Buggy. “Buggy, did you pick up another child off the streets?” he asked, his deep voice laced with restrained exasperation.

“Absolutely not!” protested Buggy, as theatrical as ever, throwing his hands in the air. “But he was all alone… I just thought we could give him a home.” His tone was both defensive and pleading, his blue eyes sparkling with feigned innocence.

Mihawk sighed, a mix of frustration and resignation, while Crocodile gave him a tired look, crushing his cigar into a crystal ashtray that chimed softly. Buggy had, quite clearly, done it again. Perona stood still, her emotions swirling like the waves outside.

“Perona, my princess, come here,” called Buggy gently, beckoning her closer.

Hesitant, Perona took a few steps forward, her light footsteps echoing on the floor. She looked up at Buggy, then at the boy with green hair whose gray eyes were scanning the room cautiously. “This is Zoro,” Buggy announced, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “From today on, our family’s getting bigger. If you’d like, sweetheart, I can introduce you to your little brother.”

Perona felt a rush of emotions — surprise, joy, and relief all at once. Her eyes lit up as she realized she wasn’t being replaced but was gaining a little brother. Her heart swelled with happiness, and tears of joy shimmered in her violet eyes. Without a word, she rushed toward Zoro and hugged him tightly, feeling the warmth of his small body against hers, his green hair tickling her chin. Mihawk and Crocodile, though displeased by Buggy’s impulsiveness, couldn’t ignore Perona’s radiant expression. Her eyes sparkled with happiness as she hugged Zoro, and they knew their princess was delighted to have a younger brother.

Mihawk and Crocodile sighed silently, knowing that Buggy, true to himself, hadn’t warned them. Once again, he had surprised them by expanding their family. Yet seeing Perona’s beaming smile, they couldn’t help but smile too. They loved her as their own daughter, and her happiness was their greatest priority.

“Perona, my princess, you’re the eldest now,” said Buggy, kneeling to her height, his red nose gleaming in the firelight. “Do you know what that means?”

Perona released Zoro and looked at him, her violet eyes shining with wonder. She nodded, a bright smile lighting up her face — she understood the importance of her new role. A little brother meant she was the big sister, the protector. Her voice, soft yet resolute, rose: “Yes, Daddy. I’ll be Zoro’s big sister.”

“Very good,” replied Buggy, his smile widening. “When Daddy and I are busy, it’ll be your big-sister mission to look after him.”

Perona nodded eagerly, her enthusiasm making her pink curls bounce. Being Zoro’s big sister filled her with joy, and she was ready to take care of him whenever their “dads” were occupied. She reached out her hand toward Zoro, who looked at her shyly, his gray eyes studying her face.

“Zoro, do you like your new sister?” asked Buggy, his tone teasing but gentle. “Of course, you’ll have time to get used to us. If you don’t like us, we can always take you back to the orphanage.”

Zoro lowered his gaze, embarrassed by the sudden attention, but he nodded timidly, his green hair falling over his forehead. He didn’t want to go back to the orphanage — the idea of a family, even a strange one, brought him a strange sense of comfort. Seeing his small nod, Perona hugged him again, overflowing with excitement. “Welcome to the family!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing like a cheerful melody.

Buggy crouched beside Zoro, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Zoro, these are your dads. Mihawk and Crocodile are kind, just like me. You don’t have to call them Dad like Perona does. Or, if you prefer other names, you can call them whatever you want.”

Zoro nodded, glancing timidly at the two men. Mihawk, his sharp gaze softening, offered a discreet smile, while Crocodile, crushing his cigar, gave a reassuring nod. They wanted to make sure Zoro felt comfortable, happy to welcome a new member to their family — especially since Perona was so thrilled.

---

Mihawk felt a strange connection to Zoro, perhaps because of their calm, reserved natures that seemed to harmonize naturally. He felt a sense of responsibility toward the boy, a desire to ensure he felt safe. Zoro often followed Mihawk like a shadow, his small footsteps echoing on the floor as he silently observed the swordsman with curiosity. Mihawk, at first puzzled by the attention, found it oddly endearing. Perona, watching them together, smiled — happy that her little brother got along so well with one of her dads. Crocodile, for his part, observed the budding bond with quiet amusement, pleased to see Zoro fitting in.

Mihawk and Zoro spent much time together; the boy spoke almost only to him, his words hesitant but sincere. Mihawk listened carefully, finding their quiet conversations strangely soothing — like the murmur of distant waves. The scent of polished steel often hung in the air as he showed Zoro how to sharpen a blade, the boy’s gray eyes wide with fascination.

One day, Buggy burst into the room, his boundless energy sending the curtains flying. “Good morning, my little wife of my life!” he exclaimed, scooping Perona into his arms, his colorful rings sparkling in the light. “Good morning to my husbands! Good morning, darling Zoro!”

Perona burst into laughter, delighted by Buggy’s exuberance, his sugary makeup scent filling her nose. Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged amused smiles, while Zoro, still reserved, gave a small nod, his green hair falling over his gray eyes.

“I found tickets to an amusement park!” announced Buggy, brandishing them theatrically.

Perona, gently set on Crocodile’s lap, landed with a soft squeak of the leather beneath her. She looked at the tickets, bouncing with excitement, her wide smile lighting up her face. Crocodile examined the tickets with a faint smile, knowing how happy she’d be. “That means everyone’s coming!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.

“I want to go with Zoro!” she added, turning to her little brother.

Zoro looked at her, intrigued yet hesitant. The idea of an outing excited him, but he remained cautious, wary of adults. When Buggy gently took his hands, Zoro flinched slightly, surprised by the tenderness — yet, unlike before, he didn’t pull away. He nodded, his gray eyes glimmering timidly.

“Let’s go, I caught the first passenger! Oh — and a wild Mihawk appears!” Buggy joked, grabbing Mihawk’s arm with a burst of laughter.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged amused glances, allowing themselves to be dragged along. Mihawk looked slightly irritated, but he didn’t resist his energetic husband’s antics. Crocodile, more relaxed, chuckled quietly, entertained by the scene.

“Ugh! Daddy and Daddy are kissing!” complained Perona, cuddling against Crocodile, her face scrunching up in mock disgust at the adults’ affection.

Zoro watched silently, his gray eyes studying the men without comment, simply absorbing the strange family dynamic.

“Don’t be silly, sweetheart,” Buggy replied, laughing all the more.

Perona muttered, “It’s gross…” but smiled anyway, unable to resist Buggy’s infectious mood.

---

At the amusement park, the air was filled with sweet scents of cotton candy and roasted popcorn, blending with the salty breeze from the nearby sea. Children’s laughter and the buzzing of rides filled the atmosphere, while the flashing lights of the attractions painted their faces in vibrant colors. Mihawk seemed slightly annoyed to be keeping an eye on Buggy, but he couldn’t deny the excitement in Perona, who bounced in place, holding Zoro’s hand.

“What if Zoro chooses the first ride?” suggested Crocodile, his hook gleaming in the sunlight.

Perona turned to Zoro, her pink curls dancing in the breeze. “Which one do you want, Zoro?” she asked eagerly.

Zoro, uncertain, looked around at the rides, his gray eyes darting from one to another. It was his first time at an amusement park, and he seemed lost. He glanced at Mihawk, searching for a hint. Mihawk, sensing his hesitation, gave him a gentle smile. “Make your choice, my boy,” he said in his deep, calm voice, pushing past his natural reserve to encourage him.

Zoro hesitated a moment longer, then timidly pointed at a colorful ride spinning slowly. “That one,” he murmured, his gray eyes lifting toward Mihawk, waiting for his approval.

Mihawk nodded, approving his choice, and walked toward the attraction, signaling for Zoro to follow. Perona ran ahead, laughing, while Zoro moved more cautiously, his eyes following Mihawk with a mix of curiosity and trust.

“Wait, my son wants to come too,” called Buggy to the ride operator, flashing a brilliant smile.

Zoro’s gray eyes lit up at hearing Buggy call him my son, a warm feeling blooming in his chest. He quickened his steps, a timid smile spreading across his face, and joined Buggy. Perona turned, saw Zoro running toward them, and grinned — thrilled to share this moment with her little brother. They sat together in the ride, Zoro beside Buggy, his gray eyes fixed on the attraction with growing excitement. Perona, on the other side, was already laughing, unable to sit still.

Zoro felt tears of happiness well up in his eyes. Being surrounded by this family — having a big sister who played with him and fathers who treated him as their son — filled him with a joy he had never known. His tears rolled down his cheeks, but he smiled, overwhelmed by emotion. Perona, noticing his expression, gently patted his hand in comfort. Instinctively, Zoro nestled against Buggy, seeking reassurance in his warm, familiar embrace. Buggy, tender and attentive, hugged him softly, his presence soothing.

Zoro’s tears slowly faded, and Mihawk, joining the embrace, ruffled his green hair with a discreet smile. Crocodile wrapped his arm around them, his cool hook brushing Zoro’s shoulder. Perona, radiant, hugged Zoro tightly and clung to Mihawk, her smile lighting up the scene.

“Welcome to the family, Zoro,” she whispered, her voice trembling with joy.

The day continued in laughter and warmth, the sugary scents of the park and the shimmering lights of the rides surrounding their small family. Zoro, his green hair shining under the sun, found his place among them — his heart soothed by the love of his new family.

🤡🐊🦅💜💚

Chapter Text

The afternoon sun bathed the garden in a golden glow, its rays filtering through the leaves of the oak trees lining the coastal house. The air was thick with the salty scent of the sea, mingling with the fresh aroma of newly cut grass, where Mihawk and Zoro played baseball with growing camaraderie. The crack of the ball against the bat echoed through the garden, punctuated by Mihawk’s low chuckles and Zoro’s enthusiastic cheers. Mihawk, his black coat neatly folded on a garden chair, threw the ball with a swordsman’s precision, his movements fluid in contrast to Zoro’s joyful clumsiness, his green hair gleaming in the sunlight and his gray eyes sparkling with excitement. Each point scored was celebrated with triumphant shouts, their voices blending with the distant cries of seagulls.

Meanwhile, in Perona’s bedroom, the sweet, floral scent of chamomile tea filled the air, served in delicate porcelain cups adorned with pink patterns. Perona, sitting cross-legged on her fluffy-sheeted bed, chatted with Buggy, who lounged on a ghost-patterned cushion, a mischievous grin on his face. The pale pink walls, decorated with Perona’s drawings of floating hearts and sparkling stars, seemed to hum with their bond. Buggy, his colorful makeup slightly faded in the room’s warmth, teased Perona about her Barbie dolls, sparking laughter that made the light curtains flutter. Occasionally, Perona glanced out the window, watching Mihawk and Zoro, her smile widening at the sight of her little brother having fun. Then, she returned to her chat with Buggy, sipping her tea, the warm liquid sliding sweetly down her throat, a comforting treat in the peaceful afternoon.

Zoro relished every moment with Mihawk. The boy, his green hair tousled by the breeze, loved the thrill of hitting the ball, especially when Mihawk offered a rare nod of approval. “Papa! Throw the ball!” he shouted, his voice brimming with enthusiasm, his gray eyes shining like polished steel in the sun.

Mihawk, unaccustomed to showing emotion, felt an unexpected warmth in his chest. He adjusted his stance, his boots sinking slightly into the damp grass, and tossed the ball with gentle precision. “Alright, my boy. Here’s the ball,” he said, his deep voice laced with quiet affection.

Zoro, missing the pitch, made an exaggerated pout. “You’re terrible, throw it like this!” he teased, mimicking an over-the-top throw with his small arms.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, amused by the boy’s boldness, but took it in stride. He leaned down, the scent of his leather gloves filling the air, and showed Zoro how to adjust his wrist for a better throw. “Well, well, look who’s trying to teach me how to pitch. Think you can do better, kid?” he teased, a sly smile on his lips.

Zoro and Mihawk dove into a friendly competition, each trying to outdo the other. Mihawk’s throws, powerful and precise, made the ball whistle through the air, while Zoro, under his guidance, improved quickly, his movements growing more confident. They bantered playfully, their laughter ringing through the garden, forgetting the world around them. Mihawk, impressed by Zoro’s quick learning, patted his shoulder. “You’re learning fast, my boy,” he said, his voice tinged with pride. Zoro straightened up, grinning widely, his cheeks flushed with effort and his elder’s approval.

---

Inside the house, Buggy had to leave for a meeting, leaving Crocodile alone with Perona. The lingering scent of his cigar still hung in the living room, mingling with the aroma of polished wood furniture. Perona, unfazed by Buggy’s absence, delighted in teasing Crocodile, curled up against him on the couch. She peppered him with trivial questions—about pirates, deserts, or why his hook gleamed so brightly under the lamp. “Papa, why do stars shine brighter at night?” she asked, her violet eyes sparkling with curiosity, her fingers playing with the rough fabric of his coat.

Crocodile, initially distracted by her endless questions, had learned to respond with patience. He sighed, feigning annoyance, but his green eyes betrayed deep affection. “Because at night, there’s no sun to steal their spotlight, princess,” he replied, his raspy voice softened by fondness. Perona giggled, snuggling closer, feeling the reassuring warmth of his arm around her, the scent of tobacco and leather forming a familiar cocoon.

---

“Zoro! Papa Hawk! Dinner’s ready!” Perona called from the porch, her clear voice carrying to the garden, sent by Crocodile to summon the group.

Mihawk and Zoro paused their game, the ball rolling into the grass. Mihawk glanced at Zoro with a smirk, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. “Come on, let’s eat,” he said, heading toward the house, his boots crunching on the gravel. Zoro followed, his green hair damp with effort, while Perona, bouncing with excitement, waited on the porch, her ghost-patterned dress fluttering in the breeze.

“Did you win, Zoro?” she asked, her pink curls bouncing.

Zoro shook his head, a disappointed look on his face. “Not really, Mihawk’s a really good pitcher,” he admitted, sighing as he entered the house, the enticing aroma of vegetable and meat stew filling his nostrils.

Perona patted his shoulder, a reassuring smile on her lips. “Maybe you’ll be as strong as Papa when you grow up,” she said, her eyes twinkling.

Zoro froze, his gray eyes lighting up with admiration at the thought of becoming as strong as Mihawk. He nodded, a shy smile forming. “Yeah, maybe I could be as strong as Mihawk,” he murmured, his voice vibrant with hope.

---

At the table, the warm scent of stew, laced with thyme and rosemary, enveloped the dining room, where candles cast a soft glow on the walls adorned with nautical patterns. Perona, seated between Crocodile and Zoro, played with her spoon, impatient. “Papa, Buggy’s not here for dinner yet. Is he coming back soon?” she asked, her eyes searching Mihawk’s face.

Mihawk frowned, glancing at Crocodile, who shrugged, puzzled. “I don’t know. He should be back by now. His meeting’s been going on for a while,” Crocodile replied, his hook tapping the table lightly.

Mihawk sighed, irritated. “He should’ve been here ages ago… And he didn’t even say he’d be late,” he muttered, a hint of worry beneath his calm demeanor.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Buggy’s booming voice filled the room. “My darlings! Perona! Zoro! I’m home!” he shouted, his laughter flooding the space like a joyful wave.

Perona leapt from her chair, her eyes sparkling with joy, but froze when she saw a young girl with long blue hair, about her age, holding Buggy’s hand timidly. Zoro, at the table, watched curiously, his gray eyes studying the newcomer. Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a look, recognizing the familiar pattern. Buggy had done it again, bringing home another orphan despite their repeated discussions after Perona and Zoro.

“This is Vivi,” Buggy announced, a beaming smile on his face. “From now on, she’s part of the family.”

Mihawk and Crocodile sighed, their suspicions confirmed. Perona, however, exclaimed, “A sister!” Her eyes lit up, and she ran to Vivi, forgetting her dinner.

“Hi, I’m Perona! I’m 8, how old are you?” she asked, bouncing with excitement, her pink curls dancing.

Vivi, shy but smiling, replied softly, “Hi, I’m Vivi. I’m 8 too. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was gentle, like a whisper carried by the breeze.

“Papa! Can I show Vivi my room, please? We’ll be right back for dinner,” Perona pleaded, her eyes imploring Buggy.

Buggy nodded, delighted to see the girls already bonding. “Sure, go ahead. But come back quick for dinner.”

Perona grabbed Vivi’s hand, pulling her toward the stairs. “You’ll see! Papa got me a new Barbie doll. Wanna see it?” she asked, her voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Vivi nodded, her smile growing. “Yeah, I’d love to see it. I bet it’s super pretty!” she replied, following Perona, the warmth of her hand reassuring.

---

Once the girls were out of earshot, Mihawk and Crocodile turned to Buggy, their gazes heavy with reproach. “Buggy, you brought another kid home without discussing it!” Mihawk began, his deep voice laced with irritation, his golden eyes piercing Buggy.

“Hawky darling… not in front of Zoro,” Buggy replied, trying to defuse the situation with a mischievous grin.

Mihawk frowned, unamused by the nickname. He lowered his voice so Zoro, still at the table, wouldn’t hear. “Buggy, this isn’t the time for games. We’ve had this talk a hundred times. Why did you bring another kid home without talking to us first? Especially after last time?”

Buggy, ever theatrical, placed a hand on his heart. “Hawky darling ~ Baby Croccy ~ She was all alone, begging! She’s 8, like our princess Perona. My darlings, you can’t tell me to abandon her!”

Crocodile rubbed his forehead, exasperated, the scent of his cigar filling the air. “Buggy, you know how this goes. You get excited every time you see a kid in need and act without thinking. We already have Perona and Zoro, and now this?”

Mihawk nodded, his tone firm. “It’s sad, Buggy, but that doesn’t justify making decisions without us. We’re tired of these surprises.”

Buggy pouted dramatically, his blue eyes adopting a puppy-dog look. “My darlings… Perona will be heartbroken if we send Vivi away. Do you want to see our princess cry? She won’t call you Papa anymore, and no more tea parties in her room!”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, knowing Buggy was playing on their love for Perona. Crocodile sighed, his voice softening but firm. “You know we love Perona like our own daughter. We don’t want to disappoint her, but you need to understand that bringing another kid is a burden we can’t take on without discussion.”

Buggy, sensing an opening, grinned. “I’ll work extra hours! We can easily take care of our kids.”

Mihawk and Crocodile froze, touched by the phrase “our kids.” Despite their frustration, the idea of an expanding family moved them. Mihawk shook his head, a reluctant smile forming. “Buggy, you can’t fix everything with extra hours. Kids need time, attention…”

“I’m lucky to have two amazing husbands,” Buggy cut in, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

Crocodile grunted, but a smile betrayed his amusement. “You can’t win every argument by playing on our affection, Buggy.”

Buggy turned to Zoro, who watched quietly, his gray eyes taking in the scene. “Zoro, does it bother you to have another sister?”

Zoro shrugged, his voice calm but honest. “Nah, it doesn’t bother me. Perona’s already annoying enough; another girl won’t change much.”

Mihawk and Crocodile sighed, conceding Buggy’s small victory. “Fine,” Crocodile said, his hook tapping the table. “We’ll keep Vivi temporarily, but you’re responsible. If it causes problems, you handle it.”

Buggy beamed, raising his arms in triumph. “If we weren’t already married, I’d marry you!” he declared to Crocodile, prompting a groan from Zoro.

“Ugh, not in front of me!” the boy protested, his cheeks flushing with disgust at the adults’ affection.

Perona and Vivi returned at that moment, their laughter echoing down the hall. Mihawk and Crocodile relaxed, smiling at the sight of the girls. “To the table,” Crocodile called, as the stew’s aroma filled the room, promising a warm, familial evening.

The house, bathed in candlelight and the murmur of waves, buzzed with new energy. Vivi, with her blue hair and shy smile, found her place among them, welcomed by Perona’s warmth and their three dads’ kindness. The family, ever-growing, gathered around the table, their laughter and voices forming a melody of love and unity.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💚💙

Chapter Text

The setting sun painted the sky in shades of pink and orange, its rays caressing the rugged cliffs bordering the coastal house. The crisp air was heavy with the salty scent of the sea, mingled with the wild fragrance of pine trees lining the path where Mihawk, Crocodile, and Zoro strolled. The crunch of gravel under their steps set a tranquil rhythm, while the waves crashed gently on the rocks below, a soothing murmur accompanying their conversation. Zoro, his green hair tousled by the sea breeze, followed the two men with a confident stride, his gray eyes scanning the landscape. Though he’d never admit it, he relished this moment away from the girls, basking in the stoic companionship of Mihawk and the imposing yet reassuring presence of Crocodile.

Mihawk, his black coat fluttering lightly in the wind, slowed his pace and turned to Crocodile, his golden eyes catching the fading light. “Say, Croco, do you think we made the right call with Vivi?” he asked, his deep voice tinged with a hint of concern, his boots crunching on the pebbles.

Crocodile, his hook gleaming under the last rays of sunlight, paused to think, exhaling a puff of cigar smoke that blended with the salty air. “Hard to say,” he replied, his raspy voice measured with cautious thought. “I hope so. But you know Buggy—he’s impulsive. He needs to learn to think before acting.”

Mihawk nodded, his lips pursed in a thin line. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I think. I’m worried that sooner or later, this will happen again. Buggy’s too emotional when it comes to kids in need.” His tone was serious, but a glimmer of affection for their exuberant partner shone in his eyes.

Crocodile sighed, crushing his cigar against a rock, the acrid scent of tobacco fading into the breeze. “Yeah, he reacts too quickly. But there’s nothing we can do now—it’s too late. We’ll see how things go with Vivi.”

A sudden shout broke their conversation. “Papa! Can I eat these?” Zoro asked, pointing to a bush laden with blueberries, their dark berries glistening like pearls in the soft light.

Mihawk turned, his eyes scanning the fruit Zoro indicated. He approached, the sweet, slightly tart scent of the blueberries filling his nostrils. “You want to eat blueberries? Sure, you can have some, but don’t eat too many at once, or you’ll get a stomachache,” he replied, his voice firm but laced with paternal warmth.

“Okay,” Zoro mumbled, his small hands grabbing a handful of berries, their juice lightly staining his fingers. His gray eyes sparkled with excitement, savoring the freedom of snacking outdoors.

Crocodile watched Zoro with a smile, amused by his enthusiasm. But his expression shifted when he saw the boy cough, his cheeks flushing unnaturally. With a swift motion, he grabbed Zoro’s arm, stopping him from swallowing more. “Spit it out, Zoro!” he ordered, his voice sharp with urgency.

Mihawk, alarmed, stepped closer, noticing Zoro’s labored breathing and the redness spreading across his face. “Croc, what’s going on? Why are you making him spit out the blueberries?” he asked, his tone laced with growing worry.

Crocodile, his face grave, answered without hesitation. “I saw he was struggling to breathe. He’s probably having an allergic reaction. We need to act fast.”

Without wasting a moment, they rushed to the car, the scent of leather and sea salt filling the interior as they sped toward the hospital. Zoro, seated in the back, clung to Mihawk’s hand, his gray eyes misty with fear but trusting in his dads. Mihawk and Crocodile, consumed by worry, exchanged tense glances, their hearts pounding in unison for their boy’s health.

At the hospital, the antiseptic smell of the corridors contrasted with the sea breeze they’d left behind. They hurried to the reception, explaining the situation to the attending doctor. “Are you the parents? How many did he eat?” asked the doctor, a bespectacled man with a calm, professional voice.

Mihawk, maintaining his composure, answered, “He only ate a few, but he reacted very quickly. We didn’t know he was allergic to blueberries.” His voice wavered slightly, betraying his anxiety.

The doctor nodded, jotting down notes. “It’s a fairly rare allergy. We’ll take care of him. You can stay with him if you’d like, and we’ll provide a list of foods to avoid.”

Mihawk and Crocodile nodded, relieved to hear Zoro would be cared for. They were surprised to learn the rarity of his allergy but comforted by the promise of a list. In the exam room, the sterile scent of disinfectant was softened by Zoro’s presence, who, though pale, was breathing easier thanks to the treatment. The doctor returned, a reassuring smile on his face. “He’s doing better. The hives are fading, and his throat is clear. I’ll get the discharge papers. Be cautious in the future—an allergy isn’t to be taken lightly, but don’t blame yourselves. Many parents go through this. You did well bringing him in quickly.”

Mihawk and Crocodile listened intently, grateful for the doctor’s advice. “Thank you, doctor. We’ll be more careful with what he eats from now on,” Crocodile replied, his hook resting gently on Zoro’s shoulder.

The doctor added, “If you have other children, I recommend testing them for allergies. With adopted kids, it’s hard to have all the necessary information.”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, nodding. “Yes, we have several adopted children, and we don’t always have all the information. Testing for allergies is a great idea. Thank you,” Mihawk said, his voice calmer but filled with gratitude.

“Good luck on your way home,” the doctor concluded, handing them the discharge papers.

---

Back at the house, the comforting aroma of the stew prepared for dinner still lingered, mingled with the scent of lit candles in the living room. Buggy, Perona, and Vivi greeted them with a mix of worry and relief. Buggy, true to form, burst into the room, his colorful makeup glinting in the soft light. “Evening! So, did you have fun?” he asked, his theatrical voice echoing through the house.

Mihawk sighed, unconvinced by the term “fun.” “Yeah, something like that,” Crocodile replied, his tone sarcastic. “Zoro had an allergic reaction to blueberries, and we had to take him to the hospital. He’s fine now, thankfully.”

Buggy’s eyes widened, and he leapt toward Zoro with a dramatic cry. “Zoro, my baby!” He enveloped him in a hug, his rings clinking against Zoro’s shirt.

Zoro, startled by Buggy’s exuberance, froze in his arms. “Papa, don’t worry. I’m okay now,” he mumbled, his cheeks flushing slightly, his gray eyes seeking some respite.

Buggy, ever theatrical, declared, “I’m throwing out all the fruit I bought!”

Mihawk rolled his eyes, amused despite himself. “No need to go that far. We have a list of foods he needs to avoid. Just stick to it,” he said, handing the list to Buggy.

In the kitchen, Perona and Vivi, busy making cupcakes, had left a chaos of flour and powdered sugar on the counter, the sweet scent of baked goods filling the air. Mihawk and Crocodile sighed, exchanging an amused glance at the whirlwind of energy from the girls and Buggy. “Well, at least they’re taking it seriously…” Mihawk murmured, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“That’s rare for Buggy,” Crocodile added, his tone half-mocking, half-affectionate.

---

Later, after receiving the allergy test results for the whole family, they gathered in the living room, the candlelight casting soft shadows on the nautical-patterned walls. The scent of polished wood and chamomile tea floated in the air, creating a cozy atmosphere. Mihawk, holding the results, spoke up. “Here’s the deal—we now know what everyone’s allergic to or not. Zoro has a lot of allergies, especially to blueberries and anything close to them,” he said, glancing at Zoro, who nodded, his green hair falling over his gray eyes.

Buggy, sprawled on the couch, made a dramatic pout. “I can’t believe I only found out about my pollen allergy today. It explains why I’m such a wreck every spring…” he groaned, prompting a giggle from Perona.

“Yeah, now we know why you look like a zombie every spring!” she teased, her pink curls bouncing as she laughed.

Vivi, sitting beside her, chuckled softly, her blue hair shimmering in the light. “At least we won’t have any more surprises,” Crocodile said, his hook resting on the armrest, a satisfied smile on his face.

The family, gathered in the living room, shared a moment of laughter and warmth, the scent of tea and candles enveloping their growing bond. Zoro, his gray eyes twinkling with gratitude, leaned against Mihawk, while Perona and Vivi exchanged conspiratorial glances, happy to be together. Buggy, true to form, cracked a joke, sparking everyone’s laughter, and the house hummed with familial harmony, strengthened by their love and newfound vigilance to protect one another.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💚💙

Chapter Text

The night settled gently over the coastal house, stars beginning to twinkle in a deep blue sky, while the sea breeze carried the salty scent of the ocean through the open windows. The house glowed with the warm light of lamps, casting soft shadows on the nautical-patterned walls. Buggy trudged in late, his heavy steps echoing on the polished hardwood, his colorful makeup slightly faded from a long day at work. He paused at the door, his fatigue momentarily forgotten as the excited voices of Perona and Vivi greeted him, their laughter filling the air like a joyful melody.

“Hey, girls, easy now! Let me at least catch my breath…” Buggy protested, his theatrical voice tinged with mock exasperation, as he slung his bag onto the coat rack, the sweet scent of his perfume mingling with the polished wood.

Perona and Vivi, perched on the living room couch, their pink and blue hair glinting under the light, exchanged a conspiratorial glance, ignoring his tone. Perona, practically bouncing in place, spoke first, her violet eyes sparkling with excitement. “Papa, you’ll never guess what happened at school today!”

Buggy, collapsing into an armchair, his red nose gleaming under the lamp, raised a curious eyebrow. “What happened, my princess?”

Perona, unable to contain her enthusiasm, launched into her story, her hands waving in the air. “Well, we got a new kid in our class today. His name’s Sabo, and he’s super nice!” Her voice vibrated with excitement, the strawberry scent of her shampoo wafting around her as she fidgeted.

Vivi jumped in, just as animated, her blue hair bouncing as she nodded. “Yeah, Sabo’s really cool! And that’s not all—he’s amazing at soccer! He scored an awesome goal during recess!” Her eyes shone, and she clutched a cushion, the lavender scent of the fabric filling the air.

Buggy, amused, leaned forward slightly, his grin widening. “Really, my princesses? That’s impressive!”

The girls nodded vigorously, clearly impressed by Sabo’s skills. Perona, caught up in her excitement, continued. “Super impressive, yeah! And he’s kinda cute, but not as much as L—” She stopped abruptly, her cheeks flushing, as Vivi nudged her to keep quiet.

Buggy, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief, leaned closer. “What boy?! Cute?! Awesome!!” he exclaimed, his voice rising dramatically, prompting nervous giggles from the girls.

Perona, red with embarrassment, realized she’d nearly spilled a secret. “Uh… nothing, forget it!” she stammered, waving her hands as if to erase her words.

Vivi, giggling, nudged Perona again, trying to stop her from digging herself deeper. The lingering scent of the chamomile tea they’d shared earlier added a soothing note to their lively exchange.

At that moment, Zoro, his green hair tousled from a day at school, grabbed Buggy’s arm and pulled him toward the living room, his gray eyes glinting with quiet excitement. “Hey, Papa, wait till I tell you what happened at school today!” he said, his voice laced with subtle pride.

Buggy, delighted by his son’s energy, settled onto the couch, the sweet scent of his makeup blending with the leather. “What happened at school?”

Zoro, puffing out his chest slightly, began his story. “Well, today, I raced my friends during recess. I beat them all—I got to the finish line first. Everyone was impressed!” His cheeks flushed faintly, and the grassy scent clinging to his clothes hinted at his active day.

Buggy, beaming, clapped his hands, his rings clinking. “My son’s a champion!” he declared, his voice vibrant with admiration.

Zoro, embarrassed but pleased by the praise, looked down, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “It wasn’t a big deal, really. But it was fun beating them!” he said, his fingers fiddling with his shirt hem.

“No doubt about it!” Buggy said, ruffling Zoro’s green hair, eliciting an amused groan from the boy.

---

The next two weeks flew by, marked by Buggy’s long work hours, returning each evening exhausted, the scent of sweat and printer paper clinging to his clothes. Mihawk, often at home, tended to the children with methodical patience, the faint scent of sword metal lingering when he practiced in the garden. Crocodile, with lighter hours thanks to their finances, was still away two days a week, his cigar’s scent trailing in his wake. Each evening, Zoro, Perona, and Vivi greeted Buggy with detailed accounts of their days, their voices blending in a joyful cacophony. Buggy, despite his fatigue, listened intently, his blue eyes sparkling as he sank into the couch, a steaming coffee mug in hand, its bitter aroma contrasting with the sweet scent of cookies the girls had baked.

Every morning, Buggy rose early, his eyelids heavy with fatigue, to drive the kids to school. The salty sea air filled the car as they cruised along the coast, the children’s laughter echoing in the cabin. After dropping them off, he headed straight to work, while Mihawk faithfully waited at the school gates each afternoon, his black coat stark against the bright backpacks. On Sunday morning, Buggy woke with a headache, the weight of the past weeks pressing on his shoulders. Yet, mindful of his family duties, he rose slowly, the scent of polished wood enveloping him as he shuffled to the kitchen to prepare breakfast.

“Good morning, kids!” he called, his voice still hoarse from sleep, as he stacked golden pancakes on a plate, the sweet scent of maple syrup filling the kitchen.

“Good morning, Papa!” Zoro, Perona, and Vivi replied in unison, their cheerful voices ringing through the bright room.

“I made pancakes—” Buggy began, but a movement outside cut him off.

The kids turned to the window, their eyes drawn to a figure in the garden. Perona, squinting, peered through the glass, her pink curls falling over her face. “Who’s that?” she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and surprise.

Buggy, leaning toward the window, frowned, wondering who this child could be so early in the morning. The scent of damp grass and pines wafted in with the breeze.

Zoro, lowering his gaze, mumbled, “Papa, it’s my fault. It’s my friend Luffy… I told him he could come to the house because he doesn’t have a home.”

All eyes turned to Zoro, stunned. Buggy, raising his eyebrows, stared at his son, perplexed. “Z-Zoro, what do you mean, he doesn’t have a home?”

Zoro, looking guilty, explained, “I met him at the park when I was playing baseball with Mihawk. He lives under a bridge.” His voice wavered, his gray eyes reflecting genuine concern for his friend.

Perona and Vivi, seated at the table, exchanged a shocked glance, their hands tightening around their orange juice glasses. The sweet scent of pancakes suddenly felt less comforting in light of this news.

Buggy opened the door, letting in a gust of fresh air, and looked at the boy on the porch. Luffy, a child with messy black hair and a radiant smile, stood there, his worn clothes faintly smelling of earth and dampness. Buggy sighed, his heart softening with pity. “You’re Luffy, right? Zoro says you live in the park, is that true?”

Luffy looked up, his innocent smile lighting up his face. “Yeah! I live under the bridge near the park,” he replied, nodding vigorously.

Buggy, warmed by that smile, asked, “Do you like pancakes, Luffy?”

Luffy nodded even more enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling. “Yeah! I love pancakes!”

“Come in, don’t stay outside,” Buggy invited, his voice warm despite his fatigue.

Luffy, beaming, stepped inside, his light steps echoing on the hardwood. He looked around the kitchen with childlike curiosity, the scent of pancakes and maple syrup making him nearly bounce with excitement. Buggy handed him a generously stacked plate, and Luffy sat at the table, his eyes glued to the food. Zoro grabbed his share of pancakes, happily sipping his milk, its creamy scent mingling with the syrup. Perona and Vivi, their orange juice glasses in hand, watched Luffy with a mix of curiosity and affection, their whispers filling the air.

“Papa… is Luffy our new brother?” Vivi asked, her blue hair falling over her shoulders, her eyes full of hope.

Buggy, caught off guard, looked at Vivi, then at Zoro and Perona, who waited eagerly for his response. He scratched his head, his red nose glinting in the kitchen light. “Well… for now, he’s just our guest, princess,” he replied, hesitating.

Zoro, setting down his fork, spoke up, “But you never know, he could be our brother someday.” His gray eyes shone with quiet conviction.

Perona rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “Yeah, but it’s not fair to decide that alone, Zoro. If someone’s gonna be our brother, we all have to agree!” she said, her voice teasing but serious.

Buggy, flustered, stammered, “W-Wait, kids, you want Luffy to be your brother?”

The three kids nodded in unison, their faces lit with the idea. Perona, her eyes sparkling, exclaimed, “Yeah, it’d be awesome if Luffy joined our family!”

Zoro, biting into a pancake, added, “Exactly. He lives under a bridge, he doesn’t have much. It’ll be good for him to have a family.” His voice was firm, laced with unexpected maturity.

Vivi, smiling, nodded. “Yeah, he seems nice, we want him as our new brother!”

Buggy, overwhelmed by their arguments and pleading eyes, sighed, a resigned smile on his lips. “I guess you’re right, kids,” he murmured, his voice betraying his weakness to their enthusiasm.

The kids erupted in cheers, their voices echoing through the kitchen. Perona turned to Luffy, a radiant smile on her face. “You heard that, Luffy? You’re our new brother now!”

Zoro, chewing his pancake, added, “You don’t have to live under a bridge anymore. You can stay here.”

Luffy, eyes wide, beamed. “Really? Thank you all! Thank you, Buggy!” he exclaimed, his voice vibrant with gratitude as he shoveled another bite of pancake.

---

Mihawk and Crocodile entered the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewed coffee filling the air, mingling with the pancakes and syrup. Their morning routine was disrupted by Luffy’s unexpected presence at the table, his bright smile contrasting with his worn clothes. They exchanged a questioning glance, their brows furrowing as they fixed Buggy, who sipped his coffee with studied nonchalance, deliberately avoiding their gaze. Mihawk rubbed his temples, a sigh escaping his lips, while Crocodile, his hook gleaming in the light, maintained an impassive mask, though his exasperation was palpable.

“Buggy, care to explain?” Mihawk began, his deep voice laced with familiar weariness.

Buggy, feigning innocence, raised his hands, his rings clinking. “My darlings! Luffy was dragged into our garden, he’s Zoro’s friend… He was living under a bridge! I really tried, I swear, but the kids gave me those puppy eyes and begged to have him as a brother! It’s their fault, not mine!” he pleaded, his voice rising dramatically.

Mihawk crossed his arms, his piercing gaze fixed on Buggy. “You’re too soft with them, Buggy. That’s why they know they can manipulate you so easily,” he said, his voice calm but sharp.

Crocodile shook his head, his violet eyes studying Luffy, who watched the men silently, a half-eaten pancake in hand. “But he was living under a bridge… You had reservations about Vivi too, and look, you grew fond of her,” Buggy countered, playing on their emotions.

Mihawk sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. He couldn’t deny Buggy had a point—Vivi, with her blue hair and shy smile, had won their hearts. Crocodile, reluctant to admit it aloud, nodded, his expression softening. “Hmph, fine. We can’t go back now…” he muttered, his raspy voice tinged with resignation.

Buggy, beaming, clapped his hands. “Yeah, more pancakes to celebrate!” he exclaimed, jumping up to stack more pancakes on the plates, the sweet scent of syrup filling the kitchen again.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, striving to maintain his dignity, while Crocodile, a reluctant smile on his lips, shook his head. Luffy, his smile widening, seemed increasingly at ease, his eyes sparkling with joy at the warm welcome. Perona and Vivi, giggling, exchanged conspiratorial glances, thrilled to have a new brother. Zoro, biting into a pancake, watched the scene with his gray eyes, a quiet smile on his lips, happy to see his friend embraced.

The table buzzed with joyful energy, the scent of pancakes, coffee, and orange juice creating a warm atmosphere. Even Mihawk and Crocodile, despite their initial reluctance, were swept up in the mood, their expressions softening at the children’s laughter. Buggy, for once, felt less exhausted, his heart swelling at the sight of his growing family. He sank into his chair, sipping his coffee, its bitter scent calming his nerves as the house echoed with the laughter and voices of his ever-expanding family.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💚💙🙊

Chapter Text

The morning sun filtered through the coastal house’s curtains, casting golden rays across the kitchen table where steaming pancakes gave off a sweet maple syrup scent. The air carried the fresh, salty tang of the sea, mingling with the comforting aroma of the coffee Buggy sipped, his red nose glinting in the soft light. Around the table, the children laughed and chattered loudly, their voices resonating like a joyful symphony. Buggy, for once, felt less weighed down by fatigue, his heart swelling at the sight of his growing family. He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under him, savoring the moment, the bitter scent of his coffee soothing his nerves. But his gaze settled on a blond boy seated among the children, his hair shimmering like wheat in the sunlight. Buggy frowned, puzzled. Who was this newcomer?

“Papa, this is Sabo, Luffy’s brother. He’s going to live here now,” Vivi announced, her blue hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Zoro, munching on a pancake, his green hair tousled, added eagerly, “And it gets better—he’s got two brothers! So cool! This is Ace!” He pointed to another boy with black hair and freckled cheeks, sporting a mischievous grin.

Buggy’s eyes widened, his coffee nearly slipping from his hands. Two more brothers? What was happening? He shot a panicked glance at Mihawk and Crocodile, who looked equally stunned. Mihawk, his black coat stark against the bright light, pinched the bridge of his nose, a deep sigh escaping him. Crocodile, his hook gleaming under the lamp, blinked several times, processing the news, the faint scent of his cigar lingering on his clothes.

“I… I didn’t do anything!” Buggy stammered, his rings clinking as he waved his hands defensively. “I mean, who knew Luffy had two brothers?”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his piercing gaze fixed on Buggy. “How is it that Luffy suddenly has two more brothers? And more importantly, why are they here now?” he asked, his deep voice laced with restrained frustration.

“I’m not omniscient, my love!” Buggy protested, his colorful makeup amplifying his dramatic expression. “I didn’t know!”

Mihawk sighed, his fingers drumming on the table, the scent of polished wood filling the air. Crocodile, silent, seemed to simmer internally, his gaze shifting from the kids to Buggy. “That explains nothing,” Mihawk continued, crossing his arms. “Why do our children suddenly have two more brothers? And who are these boys, exactly?”

Buggy, at a loss, turned to the newcomers. “Hey, kids… uh, Sabo and Ace, right? Are you Luffy’s biological brothers?”

Sabo, his blond hair falling slightly over his eyes, nodded seriously. “Yes, we’re Luffy’s biological brothers,” he replied, his voice firm but tinged with sadness. Ace, more laid-back, flashed a proud smile, his freckles dancing on his cheeks. “Yup,” he confirmed simply, biting into a pancake with ease.

Buggy, baffled, furrowed his brow. “But… Luffy never mentioned brothers. He was living under a bridge. You guys seem older, Sabo, Ace. Don’t you have parents?”

Sabo and Ace exchanged a glance, their expressions darkening. Sabo answered, his voice softer, “It’s true. We don’t really have parents…” Ace, leaning forward, added reluctantly, “We grew up in a… not-so-great place. But we’ve always stuck together.”

The sweet scent of pancakes suddenly felt less comforting. Mihawk and Crocodile caught Buggy’s gaze, recognizing that familiar glint in his eyes—the one he got when his big heart was about to take over. Mihawk pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes as if to brace himself, while Crocodile sighed, resigned. They knew what was coming: they couldn’t turn away Sabo and Ace.

“My darlings…?” Buggy began, his voice tentative but hopeful, the sweet scent of his perfume wafting around him.

Mihawk let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration clear. “Yes, darling… what is it?” he replied, striving to stay calm.

“Let’s keep them,” Buggy pleaded, his blue eyes imploring. “We can’t leave them separated from their brother or in a bad place.”

Mihawk sighed deeper, his patience wearing thin. He crossed his arms, his gaze sharp on Buggy. “Fine… I suppose we have no choice but to welcome these new brothers,” he relented, his voice tinged with resignation.

Buggy, beaming, clapped his hands, his rings clinking joyfully. “You heard that, kids! Papa’s on board!”

The children, relatively quiet until now, erupted in joy. Vivi and Perona let out excited squeals, their blue and pink hair bouncing as they jumped. Zoro and Luffy flashed wide grins, their eyes gleaming with happiness. Even Sabo and Ace, more reserved, showed shy smiles, the maple syrup scent filling the air with familial warmth. Mihawk, shaking his head, knew he’d fallen into Buggy’s trap once again.

But a practical issue arose. Mihawk crossed his arms, staring at Buggy. “And where will they sleep? We don’t have any spare rooms…”

Buggy, puffing out his chest proudly, declared, “Ah, what a question! Papa Buggy’s the best, and you know why!” His theatrical voice echoed, drawing everyone’s attention.

The kids, curious, stared at Buggy, wondering what he’d reveal. Perona, her violet eyes sparkling, seemed especially eager. Zoro crossed his arms, waiting, his green hair falling over his gray eyes. Mihawk, annoyed by Buggy’s confidence, raised an eyebrow, while Crocodile, leaning back in his chair, the faint cigar scent lingering, was intrigued despite himself.

“We’re moving to Grand Line!” Buggy announced, his radiant smile lighting up the room.

A stunned silence fell over the kitchen, the scent of coffee and pancakes hanging in the still air. Perona broke the silence, perplexed. “You’re moving to Grand Line? Seriously?”

“Yup!” Buggy replied, his voice brimming with enthusiasm.

Mihawk, skeptical, raised an eyebrow. “Why Grand Line?” he asked, his tone suspicious.

“For a bigger house!” Buggy exclaimed, as if it were obvious.

Zoro pouted, puzzled, while Luffy, his black hair a mess, nearly bounced out of his chair with excitement. “A house in Grand Line? Awesome!”

Mihawk sighed, baffled. “Why not just buy a house here?”

Buggy, waving his hands, replied fervently, “Listen, my kids, my dear husbands, you’ll love me no matter what! I lived in Grand Line—it’s great, okay? We can visit the house I’ve got my eye on together.”

The kids exchanged glances, intrigued. Perona, bouncing, was already sold. “A house in Grand Line? Sounds amazing!” Zoro, more wary, muttered, “Doesn’t sound bad…”

Buggy, sensing their hesitation, added, “Scared, kids? If you don’t like it, Papa will find something else. We can check it out for now. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, since we’re a big family… even bigger now with Ace and Sabo.”

Crocodile, shrugging, chimed in, “Well, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?”

Mihawk, still reluctant, relented. “Fine… we can see it. But I’m not promising anything.”

Buggy, beaming, clapped his hands. “Perfect! Let’s get ready! After lunch… or now!”

The kids, excited, hurriedly finished their plates, the sweet scent of pancakes filling the air as they rushed to get dressed. Luffy and Perona, especially eager, were already laughing, while Zoro grumbled, feigning indifference. Mihawk sighed, overwhelmed by the sudden enthusiasm, while Crocodile, a wry smile on his lips, shook his head.

---

“Alright, let’s go!” Buggy called, his voice echoing through the house as he grabbed his keys, the sweet scent of his perfume trailing behind him.

The kids scattered toward the cars, the damp grass scent from the garden filling the air. Zoro and Luffy were already bickering over seats, their voices ringing in the driveway. Perona, a radiant smile on her face, chattered nonstop, her pink curls bouncing. Mihawk, grumpy, watched with exasperation, while Crocodile, amused, shook his head, his hook glinting in the sun.

“Who’s going with Mihawk?” Buggy asked.

Luffy, Zoro, and Perona turned to Mihawk, clearly eager. But before they could answer, Mihawk sighed deeply. “I’ll take the loudest ones…”

“Oh no! Three kids, you can’t!” Buggy teased, theatrical. “Who’s with Crocodile?”

Vivi and Ace raised their hands, smiling. “Alright, Vivi and Ace are with me,” Crocodile said, his tone calm but amused.

Buggy, feigning indignation, pulled Sabo close. “Well, Sabo, just you and me… I can’t believe none of my princesses wanted me!”

Sabo, a bit tense under Buggy’s sudden embrace, gradually relaxed, a shy smile appearing on his blond face. Luffy and Zoro kept squabbling over seats in Mihawk’s car, while Perona laughed loudly. Mihawk, exasperated, watched silently, the scent of his leather coat filling the air. Crocodile, driving Vivi and Ace, wore a faint smile, while Buggy, with Sabo, cranked up the music, singing loudly, the sweet scent of his makeup wafting in the car.

---

After a long drive, the salty sea air giving way to pines and asphalt, they arrived in a Grand Line residential neighborhood. The houses, large and spacious, were clearly designed for big families, their white facades gleaming in the sun. The kids, eager, slipped past Buggy’s legs as he opened the door to the house they were visiting, the scent of fresh paint and new wood greeting them. Luffy, Perona, and Zoro let out a “Wow” in awe, impressed by the space.

“You guys crawling through my legs too?” Buggy teased, glancing at Mihawk and Crocodile. “Okay, judging by your faces, that’s a no.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes, annoyed. “Stop your nonsense. We’re just visiting,” he muttered, following Buggy inside, joined by Crocodile, the faint cigar scent lingering.

The kids, already scattered, explored the house, their excited shouts echoing through the halls. Perona let out a “Wow” at every new room, her pink curls bouncing. Buggy, beaming, called, “Kids, come on! We’re doing this room by room, okay? Your dads and I will talk about boring stuff, but don’t break anything. It’s not our house yet. Stay close to us or a sibling.”

The kids nodded, thrilled. Luffy and Zoro, shoving each other, raced to the living room, followed by Perona, Vivi, Ace, and Sabo, the latter staying near Buggy, a bit lost. In the living room, the scent of new fabric from the sofas filled the air. Luffy and Zoro dashed to a corner, while Perona admired the decor, her violet eyes gleaming. Mihawk, observing silently, seemed impressed by the space, while Crocodile, more reserved, surveyed the room.

“The previous owner hasn’t moved everything out, so we can get a feel for it,” Buggy explained. “We could fit a bigger sofa.”

Mihawk nodded, eyeing the furniture. “Not bad. A larger sofa would suit us better.”

Crocodile agreed. “Yeah, and maybe some other furniture,” he added, the faint cigar scent lingering.

Buggy, enthusiastic, led them to the dining room, where a massive table with twelve chairs stunned everyone. The scent of polished wood filled the room, and the kids, awestruck, admired the space. Vivi and Ace, smiling, were clearly delighted. “Now, the kitchen! Papa Hawky’s gonna love it—it’s fully equipped!” Buggy announced.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, following reluctantly, while Crocodile, curious, trailed along. The kids squealed, the scent of stainless steel from the modern appliances greeting them. “Don’t make that face, Mihawk,” Buggy teased. “Your gay ass is gonna love it.” He glanced at Sabo in his arms. “Don’t repeat that, okay?”

Mihawk grumbled, annoyed. “I’m just thinking about the budget,” he muttered.

Sabo snickered, intrigued, while Luffy and Zoro, already in the kitchen, exclaimed over the appliances. “Come on, love, it’s fine, I’ve got this,” Buggy assured, pulling Mihawk closer.

Mihawk, embarrassed in front of the kids, protested, “I know you’ve got it, it’s just…” He was cut off by Sabo slipping between them, disrupting the moment. Mihawk looked at him, surprised, while Buggy laughed.

“Just?” Buggy pressed.

“Just…” Mihawk hesitated, glancing at the kids. “I don’t want us to overspend on the house.”

Buggy, serious, replied, “I know, but for our kids, we need to invest in a house like this. I don’t want them in a fixer-upper.”

Crocodile, effortlessly holding Sabo, nodded. “He’s right. We can invest, and I’ll pick up extra shifts at the casino if needed.”

Mihawk, seeing Crocodile side with Buggy, frowned. “Of course, you’re always on his side…”

“Because you’re usually wrong,” Crocodile teased, amused.

“Because you’re an idiot most of the time,” Mihawk shot back.

Buggy, laughing, concluded, “Anyway, I’m handling the house. Go check out the kitchen—Croccy and I know nothing about it.”

Crocodile, amused, watched Mihawk. “He’s gonna sulk all day now.”

“Let him, he’s secretly happy,” Buggy joked.

The house buzzed with warm energy, the scent of new wood and brought-along pancakes filling the air. The kids explored eagerly, their laughter echoing, while Mihawk, Crocodile, and Buggy, despite their bickering, shared a moment of unity, bound by their love for their growing family.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💚🩵🖤💛

Chapter Text

The Grand Line house basked in the golden afternoon sunlight, rays filtering through large windows and casting dancing patterns on freshly painted walls. The scent of new wood and paint lingered in the air, mingling with a faint sea breeze slipping through open windows. The children, bursting with energy, explored the numerous bedrooms with excited shouts, their footsteps echoing on the polished hardwood. Luffy and Zoro, inseparable, were already yelling about sharing a room, bickering loudly over the “privilege,” their voices bouncing through the halls. Perona, quieter, slipped from room to room, her pink curls swaying, searching for a space to transform into a princess’s sanctuary. Vivi, her blue hair glinting, followed with a beaming smile. Ace and Sabo, more reserved, stood back, watching the chaos with shy grins, their clothes faintly scented with garden grass.

“Easy, kids! We don’t live here yet,” Buggy called, his theatrical voice tinged with amusement, his red nose gleaming as he planted his hands on his hips. “No fighting, okay?”

The children reluctantly calmed down, their excitement dimming slightly under Buggy’s gaze. Luffy and Zoro, stubborn as ever, kept bickering in hushed tones, their black and green hair tousled. Vivi and Perona, thrilled, whispered excitedly about the many bathrooms, already deciding one would be for girls only, prompting annoyed grumbles from Luffy and Zoro. Ace and Sabo, amused, exchanged knowing glances, their freckles and blond hair catching the light.

“The kids are really excited about the house,” Buggy observed, his colorful makeup accentuating his grin. “We’ll need to split two big rooms to make extra bedrooms.”

Mihawk, his black coat stark against the bright walls, nodded, the faint metallic scent of his sword lingering. “Yes, we’ll need to divide the large rooms. Everyone needs their own space.”

Ace and Sabo, silent in a corner, listened intently, their eyes following the adults’ conversation. The fresh paint scent seemed to envelop them, a reminder of this new place that could become home.

Buggy, turning to Mihawk, added confidently, “I know you don’t mind working, but I can handle it.”

Mihawk, hesitating, frowned, annoyed at admitting his reluctance. “I can work, it’s just… I hate it,” he muttered, the scent of his leather coat filling the air.

“Darling, I’ve got this,” Buggy replied, his voice soft but firm, his sweet perfume wafting around him.

Mihawk sighed, relenting. “Fine, I’ll let you handle it…”

Buggy, beaming, clapped his hands, his rings clinking. “So, do we take the house?”

Mihawk, after a pause, murmured, “Yes, yes. We’ll take it.”

Crocodile, the eldest of the three, nodded, a faint smile on his lips, the cigar scent fading. “It’s settled. We have the house.”

---

The following weeks were a whirlwind of activity. The smell of cardboard and tape filled the air as Buggy and Crocodile tackled paperwork and financing, their signatures scrawled across stacks of documents. The previous owner gradually cleared out the last furniture, the scent of old wood mingling with the new house’s freshness. The kids, impatient, counted the days until moving in, their excited voices echoing in the old house. Buggy, working at a frenetic pace, ensured everything was ready for a smooth move. Mihawk and Crocodile, despite their fatigue, helped transport belongings, the scent of sweat and cardboard lingering. Buggy, taking Ace and Sabo under his wing, guided them in the new house, their older ages making them easier to direct with instructions on furniture placement.

The bedrooms were set up first, the scent of fresh paint and new linens filling the rooms. The living room followed, with a large sofa smelling of new fabric. The kids, buzzing with excitement, explored every corner, their laughter echoing through spacious halls. After weeks of hard work, everything was ready. Crocodile’s old house sold for a good price, the scent of contract ink lingering, allowing them to buy new furniture and decorations.

---

Buggy, exhausted but radiant, opened the new house’s door, the scent of polished wood and fresh paint greeting him. He couldn’t wait to see the kids’ reactions. Mihawk and Crocodile, lingering behind, their faces tired but content, watched with faint smiles, the scents of leather and cigar contrasting with the house’s fresh air. “Welcome home, kids,” Buggy called, his voice vibrant with emotion.

The kids, overjoyed, let out shouts of glee, their voices filling the space, their eyes sparkling like stars. They rushed inside, their footsteps echoing on the hardwood, the scent of their new backpacks and clean clothes wafting around them.

---

Perona and Vivi, their pink and blue hair gleaming, tugged at Mihawk’s sleeves, begging him to see their princess-themed rooms, adorned with lace curtains and plush cushions smelling of lavender. Luffy, Zoro, Ace, and Sabo tried dragging Crocodile and Buggy to their rooms, decorated with pirate posters and soccer balls, the fresh paint scent lingering. But a dispute erupted, each child claiming the fathers’ attention first. To avoid conflict, they decided to visit each room together, the scent of new wood and furniture filling the air.

“Kids, I hope this is what you wanted. I followed your instructions,” Buggy said, his red nose glinting under the bedroom lights.

The kids, eyes shining, nodded eagerly. “Yeah! It’s awesome! Thanks, Papa!” they shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the spacious rooms, expressing gratitude for their dream bedrooms.

Buggy, smiling, added, “Alright, it’s late. I ordered pizzas, then it’s bath and bedtime.”

The kids groaned, disappointed to stop exploring. Luffy and Zoro, especially, protested, their black and green hair mussed. “But Papa, we haven’t seen everything!” Luffy whined, his eyes pleading.

“The house is ours now—you’ll have time tomorrow or the next day,” Buggy replied, his tone firm but kind, his sweet perfume lingering.

“But we want to explore today!” Zoro insisted, crossing his arms, his gray eyes defiant.

“Zoro, Luffy, please…” Buggy tried, calming them. “Join your siblings with Crocodile and Mihawk.”

“No! We want to keep exploring!” the boys persisted, their voices rising.

Sabo, stepping in, tried to reason, “Zoro, Luffy, calm down, you’ll—” But they ignored him, running through the halls, the scent of their new sneakers leaving a faint trail.

Mihawk and Crocodile tried to stop them, but Luffy and Zoro, caught up in their excitement, bumped into them. Mihawk sighed, exasperated, while Crocodile frowned, the cigar scent intensifying with his annoyance. “STOP! YOU DON’T TALK TO YOUR FATHERS LIKE THAT!” Buggy suddenly thundered, his voice echoing through the house, his makeup amplifying his stern expression.

Luffy and Zoro froze, stunned, their eyes wide at Buggy’s rare anger. “P-Papa…” they mumbled, frightened by his tone.

The other kids, shocked by Buggy’s outburst—usually the most lenient father—gathered closer, silent. The scent of paint and wood hung in the tense air. Buggy, softening his voice, continued, “Sorry for yelling. But when your fathers or I tell you something, you listen. No ‘damn’ or ‘get lost’! Apologize.”

Luffy and Zoro, eyes downcast, muttered, “Sorry…”

Mihawk and Crocodile, surprised by Buggy’s firmness, exchanged a glance. Crocodile, a faint smile on his lips, appreciated the intervention. “Good. But you’re not getting off without punishment,” Buggy added. “Zoro, you’ll do dishes with Mihawk for a week. Luffy, you’ll help Crocodile with groceries for a week. And no phone, tablet, or TV for three days.”

The boys grimaced, Zoro grumbling about dishes, Luffy sighing about groceries. The scent of ordered pizzas began to fill the air, easing the tension.

---

After dinner, the smell of melted cheese and tomato sauce lingering in the dining room, the kids, clean and in pajamas, were ready for bed. The scent of lavender soap and shampoo filled the bedrooms, their new linens exuding a soothing freshness. “Who do you want to tuck you in tonight?” Buggy asked, his tone soft again, his red nose glinting under the lamps.

The kids pondered, exchanging glances. Some wanted a story from Mihawk, others from Crocodile, but after a moment, they shouted in unison, “You, Papa!”

Buggy, smiling, nodded. “Alright, I’ll tuck you in.”

He found Luffy and Zoro already asleep, exhausted from their day and punishments, their black and green hair splayed on their pillows. The other kids followed Buggy down the hall, the scent of their clean pajamas filling the air. He tucked each child in with care, starting with Luffy and Zoro, then Perona, Vivi, Sabo, and finally Ace. The scent of fresh paint and new linens seemed to cocoon them in safety. When he finished, Buggy sighed, tired but fulfilled, his sweet perfume lingering in the rooms.

“Good night, Ace, my darling,” he whispered, running a hand through the boy’s black hair.

Ace, tired but happy, smiled. “Thanks, Papa. Good night…” he murmured, snuggling under his blanket, the scent of new fabric enveloping him.

Buggy closed the door softly, the hardwood creaking faintly under his steps, ready to rest after such a hectic day.

---

In the living room, Mihawk and Crocodile had fallen asleep on the sofa, the scent of leather and cigar lingering around them. Buggy, smiling, approached quietly. He carefully moved Crocodile to their bedroom, the cigar scent fading as he settled him in bed. He did the same with Mihawk, gently removing his shoes and unbuttoning his shirt, the leather scent filling the air. After settling his husbands, Buggy removed his makeup, the sweet scent fading, and slipped into bed, the mattress creaking slightly. The scent of fresh linens and the warmth of his husbands enveloped him, and he closed his eyes, content that their family had found a new home.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💚🩵🖤💛

Chapter Text

Buggy felt like a zombie, the scent of metal and oil from the factory clinging to his clothes, his red nose dulled by sweat. His boss, a harsh man with rancid coffee breath, forced him to work long hours without consultation, ignoring his pleas for a break. Sleep deprivation was eroding his mental and physical health, his eyes shadowed with exhaustion, his mind clouded by the constant hum of machines. Drained, he longed to collapse into Mihawk and Crocodile’s arms, to laugh with his children, their joyful voices chasing away the weight of his days. But with no breaks or vacations in sight, he clung to the fragile hope of holding on a little longer before breaking.

“I’m home!” he called hoarsely as he stepped through the door, the fresh paint scent of their new Grand Line house greeting him, mingling with a faint sea breeze.

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hall, the scent of soap and crayons filling the air as Luffy, Zoro, Vivi, Perona, Ace, and Sabo rushed to the entrance. Luffy, his black hair a mess, jumped on Buggy, followed by Zoro, his green hair glinting in the light. Vivi and Perona, their blue and pink hair swaying, hugged him gently, while Ace and Sabo, more reserved, smiled shyly, their freckles and blond hair catching the last rays of sunlight.

“Okay, kids, let’s go to the living room so you can tell me about your day,” Buggy said, his colorful makeup barely hiding the bags under his eyes. He shuffled forward, the hardwood creaking under his worn boots, the sweet scent of his perfume mixing with the new wood.

The kids, buzzing with excitement, bounced around him, their voices overlapping in a joyful cacophony. Luffy and Zoro led the way, their sneakers leaving a faint rubber scent. Vivi and Perona giggled, sharing school stories, while Ace and Sabo followed, watching with quiet smiles. In the living room, the new sofa’s fabric scent filled the air. The kids settled in, their backpacks smelling of paper and glue, and launched into their tales: classes, friends, mischief. Their voices tangled, rapid, as if afraid Buggy wouldn’t have time to hear everything.

Buggy, nestled among them, struggled to focus. The factory coffee’s bitter scent lingered in his breath, and his eyelids drooped. He nodded, forcing a smile, his rings clinking as he patted their shoulders. Their enthusiasm warmed him, but exhaustion blurred their words into a distant hum. He didn’t want to disappoint them, so he clung on, his blue eyes clouded with fatigue.

Mihawk cut through the noise, his deep voice echoing from the kitchen, where the scent of tomato sauce and herbs wafted. “Dinner’s ready.” His black coat brushed the doorway, the leather scent filling the air.

The kids groaned, disappointed to stop their stories. Luffy and Zoro, especially, protested, their black and green hair tousled. But Mihawk’s stern glare, his piercing eyes glinting, silenced them. They rose reluctantly, the scent of their clean clothes mingling with the dinner aroma, their stomachs growling.

---

After dinner, the scent of warm pasta and melted cheese lingering, Buggy began tucking the kids in. The smell of lavender soap and shampoo filled the bedrooms, their new linens exuding a soothing freshness. He moved from room to room, tucking each child in with care. When he reached Ace, the eldest, he noticed his worried frown. Ace, his black hair falling over his forehead, his freckles visible in the soft light, sensed Buggy’s exhaustion.

“Good night, Ace,” Buggy murmured, his voice trembling with fatigue, his red nose glinting under the lamp.

Ace, hesitating, snuggled under his blanket, the new fabric scent enveloping him. “Good night, Papa…” he replied softly, his tone heavy with concern. He wanted to say more but held back, not wanting to burden his father further.

---

Buggy joined Mihawk and Crocodile in the living room, collapsing onto the sofa with a sigh, his limbs trembling from exhaustion. The scents of Mihawk’s leather and Crocodile’s cigar enveloped him as he nestled between them, seeking their warmth. The new sofa’s fabric creaked under his weight, and he closed his eyes briefly, his sweet perfume fading.

“How was your day?” he asked, his voice faint, his fingers fidgeting with his rings.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, sensing his exhaustion. Mihawk wrapped an arm around Buggy’s shoulders, pulling him close, the leather scent soothing. “Our day was quiet compared to the kids’,” he replied, his deep voice soft.

Crocodile, his hook glinting in the dim light, added, “School must’ve been tiring for them. But they’re adapting well.”

Buggy nodded, his blue hair falling over his eyes. “I have to leave early again tomorrow. My boss wants me to triple my hours. What a jerk!” he grumbled, the factory’s oily scent still clinging to him.

Mihawk frowned, his fingers tightening on Buggy’s shoulder. Crocodile, clenching his fist, growled, the cigar scent intensifying. “That jerk’s taking advantage of you,” he muttered.

“It’s because two employees quit, and a woman in my department is pregnant,” Buggy explained, his voice weary. “I volunteered so she could have maternity leave.”

Mihawk sighed, annoyed at the injustice, while Crocodile crossed his arms, his gaze dark. “He shouldn’t treat you like that,” Mihawk said, his voice low but firm.

Buggy, eyes half-closed, fell asleep against Mihawk, his breathing steadying, his makeup’s sweet scent fading. Mihawk chuckled softly, amused at how quickly Buggy had crashed. He ran a hand through his hair, careful not to wake him, while Crocodile grabbed a blanket, his hook brushing the fabric. He draped it over Buggy, the soft wool scent enveloping him, and smiled, glad to see him finally resting.

---

The next morning, the scent of fresh coffee and toast filled the house as Buggy prepared the kids for school. He darted between rooms, the scent of soap and shampoo lingering around the children. “Perona! Vivi! My princesses, hurry up!” he called, his voice hoarse with fatigue, his red nose glinting under the living room lights.

The girls’ light footsteps echoed down the stairs, their pink and blue hair shining as they joined Buggy. He checked that all six kids—Luffy, Zoro, Vivi, Perona, Ace, and Sabo—were ready, counting their beaming faces, the scent of their new backpacks filling the air. He led them to the car, the leather seats’ scent mixing with their clean clothes, and started the engine, his hands trembling slightly on the wheel.

“Damn! Damn! This freaking mailbox!” he swore, accidentally hitting the mailbox while backing out, the scent of twisted metal filling the air. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching the kids’ amused looks. “No, it’s fine. Don’t repeat that at school, and don’t tell your fathers,” he mumbled, his makeup amplifying his embarrassed expression.

The kids, stifling giggles, covered their mouths, the scent of their clean clothes wafting in the car. After dropping off Perona, Vivi, and the others, Buggy realized he’d taken Ace and Luffy to the wrong school. He groaned, frustrated, the scent of spilled coffee filling the car, but quickly corrected his mistake, driving them to the right school, their laughter echoing despite his blunder.

---

Buggy jolted awake that afternoon, the fresh paint scent of the house snapping him back to reality. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa, exhausted, and forgotten to pick up the kids from school. Worse, his phone buzzed, the hot plastic scent rising as his boss called, demanding he come in despite his day off. “No, not today!” Buggy shouted, his voice trembling with frustration, his rings clinking as he gripped the phone.

Rushing home, he counted the kids, the scent of their backpacks and clean clothes filling the living room. His heart stopped when he realized Luffy was missing. “Damn, I forgot Luffy at school!” he panicked, his voice echoing through the house.

He flung open the car door, nearly hitting Mihawk, the leather scent of his coat filling the air. “Mihawk! I forgot Luffy!” he cried, his red nose glinting in the sunlight.

Mihawk, startled, raised an eyebrow. “How could you forget Luffy at school?” he asked, his deep voice tinged with confusion.

Before Buggy could answer, Crocodile walked in with Luffy, his black hair a mess. Crocodile frowned, the cigar scent intensifying. “Buggy, what’s going on? Why’d you forget Luffy?”

“Luffy! Papa’s sorry!” Buggy exclaimed, hugging the boy, the scent of his shampoo filling the air.

Luffy, laughing, seemed unfazed. “Haha, it’s okay, Papa!” he said, his eyes sparkling.

“I’m gonna whip myself!” Buggy joked, theatrical, his rings clinking.

Luffy, puzzled but amused, nodded. “If you want, Papa!”

---

Later, Buggy pulled Mihawk and Crocodile into a corner of the living room, the scent of fresh paint and new fabric lingering. “I’ve got a problem,” he whispered, his voice shaky, his makeup highlighting his dark circles.

Mihawk and Crocodile, serious, listened, noticing his phone’s worn state through the window. “My boss called again,” Buggy explained. “It’s why I forgot Luffy. He’s threatening to fire me if I don’t do day and night shifts this weekend.”

Mihawk frowned, the leather scent intensifying with his irritation. Crocodile, crossing his arms, growled, “He’s making you do extra work without pay. That’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is I forgot my son!” Buggy wailed, his eyes glistening with guilt.

Mihawk placed a hand on his shoulder, the leather scent soothing. “Do what you can. We know your boss is a jerk,” he said softly.

Buggy, slumping against him, murmured, “I’m tired. I can’t do this. I’ve tried my best, but I’m not even good at work, or with the kids, or as a husband.”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, touched by his distress. “Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mihawk said firmly. “You’re doing your best. The kids love you, and so do we.”

Crocodile nodded. “You’ve got your way of doing things, even if it’s not perfect. The kids are happy and healthy. You’re a good person, Buggy.”

Buggy, eyes wet, mumbled, “I broke the mailbox twice… and dropped Ace and Luffy at the wrong school.”

Mihawk sighed, the leather scent filling the air. “Those are just accidents. Everyone makes mistakes, even caring parents like you.”

“Thanks,” Buggy whispered, his voice trembling.

Crocodile smiled. “No problem. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ve got your back 100%.”

Suddenly, Ace appeared, his freckles visible in the light. “Papa! Look, we built you a blanket fort to sleep in!” he said, pointing to a structure of cushions and blankets in the living room, the soft wool scent filling the air. “I saw you were tired… sorry… I told the others to be nice so you’re less tired because of us.”

Buggy’s eyes widened, tears welling as he looked at the fort, the scent of clean blankets enveloping him. “Really? You all did this for me?” he murmured, moved by his children’s kindness.

He approached, ruffling Ace’s hair, then the others who gathered, their faces beaming. “That’s so sweet. Thank you, kids. I’m never tired because of you,” he said, his voice shaky but sincere.

The kids smiled, the scent of their clean pajamas filling the air, happy to see Buggy touched. Mihawk and Crocodile, watching silently, exchanged a knowing glance, the scents of leather and cigar lingering. They knew Buggy was trying his best, and despite his exhaustion, his family’s love carried him. They all settled into the makeshift fort, the scent of new fabric and soft wool enveloping them, happy despite Buggy’s fatigue.

🤡🦅🐊💚🩷🩵❤️💛🖤

Chapter Text

Buggy, free from the factory’s grip, felt the lingering scent of oil and metal fade from his clothes, replaced by fresh soap and his sweet perfume. His former boss, with his rancid coffee breath, had been forced to pay a hefty sum for the mistreatment Buggy endured, a victory Mihawk and Crocodile relished as much as he did. The scent of contract ink still lingered in his memory, but Buggy, now working at a kindergarten, breathed easier. Surrounded by children’s laughter and the smell of colored chalk, his new job allowed him to spend more time with Luffy, Zoro, Vivi, Perona, Ace, and Sabo while working in a healthier environment. Mihawk and Crocodile, enveloped in the scents of leather and cigar, were thrilled to see Buggy thriving, his blue hair bouncing freely, unburdened by the factory’s weight.

“Croccy! Hawky!” Buggy shouted at 6 a.m. on a Sunday, his theatrical voice echoing through their Grand Line home, where the scent of fresh paint and new wood lingered.

Mihawk and Crocodile jolted awake, roused from sleep, the scent of warm sheets still in the air. Mihawk, his piercing eyes half-closed, grumbled, “Hmm? What’s wrong, Buggy? Why are you waking us so early?” The leather scent of his coat, draped over a chair, filled the room.

Buggy, his red nose glinting in the pale light, bounced with excitement, his rings clinking. “I woke up at 4 a.m. after a weird dream… anyway! I booked a three-day weekend at Disneyland for everyone!”

Mihawk and Crocodile’s eyes widened, their forgotten morning coffee cooling on the table. “Disneyland? Seriously?” Crocodile asked, his hook gleaming, one eyebrow raised.

“I wanna go—I mean, for the kids, it’s mostly for the kids… yeah,” Buggy stammered, his colorful makeup amplifying his feigned innocence.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged an amused glance, the scents of leather and cigar contrasting with Buggy’s sugary enthusiasm. “Oh, really? Mostly for the kids, huh?” Mihawk teased, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I swear!” Buggy insisted, his blue hair bouncing.

The two men laughed, the scent of their amusement filling the air. “Alright, we believe you. It’s for the kids, of course,” Crocodile said, his tone mocking but fond.

---

The family arrived at Disneyland Paris, the scent of sweet popcorn and cotton candy wafting through the air. Their hotel room, spacious, smelled of fresh linens and polished wood, with a large bed for Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile, and three beds for the kids: Perona and Vivi shared one, Ace and Zoro another, Luffy and Sabo the third. Buggy, ever thoughtful, had planned everything for their comfort, the scent of his efforts—a mix of his sweet perfume and the kids’ excitement—filling the room.

The kids, buzzing with energy, rushed out of the hotel to explore the park, the scent of sun-warmed asphalt mingling with treat stands. Vivi and Perona, their blue and pink hair shimmering, wore princess tiaras, dubbing themselves “Princess Vivi” and “Princess Perona.” Luffy and Zoro, wielding plastic swords, clashed noisily, their black and green hair a mess, until Mihawk, with a stern glare, confiscated their toys, the leather scent reinforcing his authority. Ace and Sabo, calmer, wore cowboy hats, their freckles and blond hair catching the light, making them adorable.

“Papa! You need accessories!” Vivi and Perona shouted, their tiaras sparkling. “We’re princesses, you have to obey us!”

Mihawk and Crocodile, amused, exchanged a glance, the scents of leather and cigar lingering. “Really? And what accessories, exactly?” Mihawk asked, his tone playful.

“Don’t expect us to wear anything ridiculous,” Crocodile grumbled, his hook glinting.

Yet, they emerged from the shop with character ears: Mihawk sported sleek black cat ears, while Crocodile, reluctantly, wore glowing Mickey ears. The new plastic scent of the accessories mixed with their laughter, sparking giggles from the girls.

Buggy emerged triumphantly, his blue hair braided by Vivi and Perona, adorned with flowers and a sparkling tiara. The scent of hairspray used to set his braid wafted around him, and his “Princess Rapunzel” look had the family roaring with laughter. “Let’s go, my princesses, leave these barbarians!” he declared, theatrical, his red nose gleaming.

Vivi and Perona, delighted, each grabbed a hand, their tiaras clinking. “Yeah! Let’s go!” they cried, their voices echoing through the crowd.

---

At the cafeteria, the scent of Mickey-shaped burgers and hot fries filled the air. The kids, gathered around a colorful table, devoured their meals, their eyes sparkling with excitement. Luffy, gobbling his burger, left crumbs on his cheeks, while Zoro, his green hair glinting, recounted an imaginary battle. Vivi and Perona, tiaras still in place, giggled, the scent of their floral perfumes mingling with the food. Ace and Sabo, their cowboy hats slightly askew, ate calmly, sharing knowing smiles.

Mihawk and Crocodile, cameras in hand, captured the kids’ joy, the scent of their cooling coffee on the table. “Papa!” Vivi and Perona suddenly shouted, shaking Buggy, who hadn’t even bitten into his burger, the scent of grilled beef taunting him.

“Huh, what?” he mumbled, mouth full.

“It’s Princess Snow White! You have to take us for a photo!” they insisted, their voices shrill.

“Wait, girls—” Buggy tried, but they yanked him from his chair, their floral perfume enveloping him. Mihawk and Crocodile laughed, the scent of their amusement filling the air, knowing Buggy was trapped by the girls’ enthusiasm.

“Alright, alright!” he relented, his tiara sparkling as he followed the princesses.

---

Buggy was swept into a whirlwind of photos with Vivi and Perona, chasing every Disney princess they spotted. The scent of popcorn and spun sugar floated around them, but Buggy, his burger abandoned, sighed as he clutched the autograph book the girls had thrust upon him. Their eyes sparkled with each signature, the fresh ink scent adding to the excitement. “Why did I buy this book?” he muttered, his braided hair bouncing as he chased Cinderella.

He finally sat beside Crocodile, the cigar scent soothing, ready to bite into his cold burger. But Vivi and Perona rushed over, shouting, “Papa! Princess Jasmine!” Their tiaras gleamed, and their disappointed faces broke his resolve.

“It’s okay to miss Jasmine,” he tried, but their looks silenced him. “Fine, give me the book, stay with your dad, I’ll handle it,” he sighed, grabbing the book.

The girls, thrilled, handed it over, their floral perfume lingering. Buggy dashed off, his tiara clinking, determined to find Jasmine. The crowd’s scent—sweat, sugar, and costumes—enveloped him as he weaved through visitors. Spotting Cinderella, he realized why Mihawk and Crocodile dodged these tasks: their tendency to say “no” contrasted with his inability to resist the girls. “Where’s Jasmine?” he asked Cinderella, his theatrical tone masking his fatigue.

After collecting signatures from Minnie, Pinocchio, and Pluto, the fresh ink scent clinging to his fingers, Buggy was exhausted. He knew Vivi and Perona would love these autographs, but he dreamed of sitting with Mihawk and Crocodile, the scent of his cold burger calling. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found Jasmine, her costume shimmering in the sun, and got her signature. He sighed with relief, his red nose gleaming, happy to have pleased the girls.

---

“Vivi! Perona! Your darling papa’s back, look!” Buggy shouted, waving the book, the scent of fresh ink and his sweet perfume filling the air.

The girls rushed over, their tiaras sparkling, their eyes gleaming at the sight of the filled autograph book. “Papa, you’re the best!” they squealed, their floral perfume enveloping Buggy as they hugged him.

“Next time, you’re doing it,” he groaned, theatrical, glaring at Mihawk and Crocodile.

The two men exchanged a smile, the scents of leather and cigar lingering. “Alright, we’ll handle it next time,” Mihawk said, amused.

“If the girls want, of course,” Crocodile added, his tone teasing.

The three-day weekend at Disneyland Paris unfolded in a joyful frenzy, the scent of popcorn, sugar, and laughter filling the air. The kids, exhausted but thrilled, fell asleep in their hotel beds, the fresh linen scent enveloping them. Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile, nestled in their large bed, the scents of leather, cigar, and sweet perfume mingling, smiled as they reflected on the unforgettable weekend, happy to have created magical memories for their family.

🤡🦅🐊💚🩷🩵❤️💛🖤

Chapter Text

Buggy sat on the edge of the soccer field, the scent of freshly cut grass and damp earth filling the air. The setting sun cast long shadows across the turf, and the sound of cheering spectators mixed with the referee’s whistle. His blue hair, free of its usual makeup, danced in the breeze, and his red nose gleamed in the golden light. He watched Ace, his black hair tousled and freckles visible, dart across the field, the scent of sweat and grass clinging to his jersey. When the match ended, Ace, beaming with victory, sprinted toward his father, his cleats clacking on the ground.

“Papa, Papa!” he exclaimed, his breathless voice echoing in the crisp air.

“Breathe, Ace. I’m listening,” Buggy replied, his gentle smile contrasting with the sweet scent of his perfume, slightly faded by the breeze.

Ace, panting, stopped, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The scent of his sweaty jersey wafted around him. “Papa, I wanted to tell you… I won the game today!”

“Indeed, I didn’t miss a second,” Buggy said, his rings clinking as he ruffled Ace’s hair. “I’m proud of you.”

Ace flashed a radiant smile, his freckles dancing in the light. He felt honored to have Buggy’s full attention, a rare moment in their large family. “Papa… will you be at my next game?” he asked, hope in his voice.

“Of course! How about we celebrate your win with a burger?” Buggy suggested, his red nose gleaming with enthusiasm.

Ace lit up, the grass scent still clinging to him. “Yeah! Please! With lots of cheese?”

“With tons of cheese, sounds perfect,” Buggy replied, his laugh ringing in the cool air.

---

At the next game, Ace, his black hair damp with sweat, scanned the crowd for Buggy, the scent of grass and sweat filling the air. But instead, he saw Mihawk, his black coat stark against the green field, the leather scent wafting around him. Ace, disappointed, frowned, his freckles tightening in the fading light.

“Mihawk, are you filling in for Papa?” he asked, his voice tinged with frustration, his cleats leaving dirt trails.

Mihawk, his piercing eyes softened, replied, “Ace, are you disappointed? Buggy didn’t know Perona had a meltdown and needed him at her ballet recital. You know your sister. And you can call me Papa too.” The leather scent mingled with the field’s aroma.

Ace loved Perona, her pink curls and boundless energy, but found it unfair that she monopolized Buggy. “I’m not disappointed, but… Perona took all of Papa’s time today,” he muttered, eyes on the grass.

Mihawk placed a hand on his shoulder, the leather scent soothing. “I’m sure Buggy will come next time. Want some ice cream? Your shot was impressive. Let’s celebrate.”

Ace, who loved ice cream, nodded, the sweat scent fading. “Yeah! Let’s go!” he said, a shy smile emerging. Mihawk, always affectionate, ruffled his hair, and they left, the grass scent fading behind them.

---

At the following game, Ace, his black hair slick with sweat, searched for Buggy again, the scent of grass and leather soccer balls filling the air. But Crocodile appeared, his hook glinting in the sun, the faint cigar scent lingering. Ace’s heart sank, disappointment washing over him.

“Why isn’t Papa here today? Did he have something else to do again?” he asked, his voice trembling, his freckles stark with frustration.

Crocodile, his dark gaze softening, replied, “He’s sorry, Ace. Perona and Vivi insisted on some things.”

“Always Perona! Why is she keeping Papa today? He promised he’d come!” Ace cried, tears welling, the scent of his sweaty jersey amplifying his emotion.

Crocodile sighed, the cigar scent intensifying. “Ace… your fathers and I do our best. Buggy doesn’t mean to. Shall we head home? You could talk to him.”

Ace nodded, tears rolling down his cheeks. He gently squeezed Crocodile’s hand, the cigar scent soothing despite his sadness. He felt insignificant, as if his games didn’t matter. Silently, they walked to the car, the scent of warm asphalt mixing with his jersey.

---

Back home, the scent of fresh paint and new wood filled the air. Seeing Perona, her pink curls gleaming, laughing with Buggy and Mihawk, Ace snapped. Without thinking, he pushed her, the floral scent of her perfume jarring his senses. Perona, shocked, stepped back, eyes wide. Ace, realizing his mistake, retreated, the scent of his sweaty jersey amplifying his shame. Buggy’s gaze, his red nose glinting under the light, unsettled him.

“Ace, why did you push your sister?” Buggy asked, his voice firm, his rings clinking.

Ace, frustrated, felt tears rise. “Why do you care about Perona instead of coming to my games?” he shouted, his voice echoing in the living room, the fresh paint scent heightening the tension.

“W-What?” Buggy stammered, his makeup amplifying his surprise.

“You’re hardly ever at my games! Why do you care more about Perona than me today?” Ace yelled, his freckles flushed with emotion.

Buggy, softening, knelt, his sweet perfume enveloping Ace. “Ace, I’m not just focused on Perona.”

“But it feels like it! You’re never there, and today you were with her again, when she didn’t even have ballet!” Ace retorted, tears streaming.

Buggy sighed, his blue hair falling over his eyes. “Ace, my dear… Perona got in trouble at the kindergarten where I work. I was responsible. She was punished, so I stayed home with Mihawk and your siblings. Crocodile went to your game for me. We didn’t want to tell you… but she made a mess.”

Ace, calming but guilty, lowered his eyes, the jersey scent fading. “Oh… I see… But why not tell me? You can’t hide everything…”

Buggy placed a hand on his shoulder, his perfume soothing. “Your fathers and I decided it was between us and Perona. I’m sorry I disappointed you.”

Ace, feeling better, murmured, “Will you promise to come to my next games?”

“I promise. Come here,” Buggy said, pulling Ace onto his lap, his sweet perfume enveloping him.

Ace snuggled against Buggy’s chest, the fresh fabric scent of his sweater comforting. “We’ll talk later? You should be punished for pushing your sister, but since it’s my fault, no punishment. Want to watch a movie with me and your fathers?”

Ace nodded, his black hair brushing Buggy’s sweater. “Yes, please, I want to watch a movie with you!”

Buggy smiled, his red nose gleaming. “Ace, don’t forget you’re part of a big, close-knit family. It’s tough sometimes, I know. But I hope you understand.”

Ace, understanding better, nodded. “I get it, Papa…”

“We love you, Ace,” Buggy whispered, his perfume reinforcing his words.

Ace, comforted, snuggled closer, Buggy’s scent enveloping him. “I love you too,” he replied, a shy smile emerging.

---

In the living room, the scent of fresh popcorn filled the air as the family settled for the movie. Luffy and Zoro, their black and green hair mussed, bickered over the best spot, the scent of their clean clothes wafting. Vivi and Perona, their blue and pink hair gleaming, sat near Mihawk, his leather scent soothing. Sabo, his blond hair glinting, shared a blanket with Ace, their freckles catching the light. Crocodile, his cigar unlit, sat by Buggy, the scent of his coat enhancing the family warmth. Ace, nestled against Buggy, felt the tension fade, the sweet perfume and promise of his presence at future games comforting him.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💛🖤💚🩵❤️

Chapter Text

The bustling city streets echoed with the hum of passersby, distant honks, and the clinking of shop windows. The scent of fresh bread from bakeries mingled with exhaust fumes and the sweet aroma of crepe stands. Crocodile, his hook glinting in the afternoon sun, walked alongside Perona and Vivi, the faint scent of his unlit cigar lingering. The girls, bursting with energy, lit up the street with their laughter and skipping steps. Perona, her curls bouncing, chattered nonstop, her floral perfume filling the air, while Vivi, hopping like a spark, pointed at every enticing shop, her strawberry lip balm adding a sweet note. Crocodile, though he adored them, felt a headache brewing from their boundless enthusiasm. He responded patiently to Perona while trying to temper Vivi’s excitement, his boots clacking on the sidewalk. Exhausting, but their radiant smiles melted him, and a subtle grin crept onto his lips, despite the scent of his own fatigue—a mix of sweat and cigar.

In a clothing store, the scent of new fabric and lavender air freshener enveloped the space. Perona and Vivi, thrilled, stopped at a display of dresses, their eyes sparkling at the sight of ruffles, bows, and pastel hues. Their chosen outfits were a parade of pink, pale blue, and girly details: fluffy skirts, delicate lace, and sparkly accessories. Crocodile, holding a pile of bags, felt his head spin at the overwhelming femininity. Perona emerged from a fitting room, wearing a pink dress adorned with bows, her wide skirt twirling as she spun, her floral perfume dancing with her.

“Papa, don’t I look cute in this dress?” she asked, her eyes gleaming with hope, the fabric rustling softly.

Crocodile, fighting not to wince at the explosion of pink, forced a smile, the scent of his unlit cigar contrasting with the sugary ambiance. “Uh, yes, sweetheart, you’re very cute,” he replied, his voice strained but genuine.

Vivi, next, stepped out, her blue ruffled dress shimmering under the neon lights. She twirled, her puffy skirt flaring, her strawberry lip balm scent wafting. “Papa, look at my dress! Isn’t it super pretty?”

Crocodile, his eyes nearly stinging from the ruffles, forced another smile, the new fabric scent surrounding him. “Yes, darling, it’s gorgeous. You look really pretty in it,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of exhaustion.

But the ordeal was far from over. In another store, the scent of polished leather and new plastic from shoes filled the air. Perona and Vivi, their shrill voices echoing, fixated on sparkly pink heels, their eyes shining with desire. Crocodile, already laden with bags, felt frustration rise. Buggy was absent, at Ace’s soccer game, and Mihawk had firmly declined this shopping marathon, his leather scent and stern gaze enough to deter insistence. Crocodile, trapped, wondered why he’d agreed to this. If he failed to get those shoes, the girls would be heartbroken, and Buggy and Mihawk would surely let him hear about it, the scent of their anger—sweet perfume and leather—looming like a threat. But if he succeeded, he’d have to battle a horde of determined mothers, their aggressive perfumes and sharp elbows ready for combat.

In the store’s chaos, the scent of sweat and mixed perfumes saturated the air. Crocodile, his hook nearly slipping on a bag, dove into the fray, fighting to grab the last pairs of sparkly heels. The mothers, their voices shrill and bags clashing, were formidable foes. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple, the scent of his unlit cigar his only comfort. Finally, after a Herculean effort, he secured the shoes, the glittery plastic scent filling his nostrils. He sighed, exhausted but triumphant, as Perona and Vivi, delighted, bounced around him, their floral and fruity perfumes dancing in the air.

“Papa, you’re the best!” they shouted, their voices ringing through the busy street, the scent of their new purchases—fabric and polished leather—adding to their excitement.

Crocodile, dragging the bags, muttered inwardly, “I can’t take it anymore… I just want to go home.” The scent of warm asphalt and exhaust fumes accompanied him, amplifying his fatigue.

---

Back home, the scent of fresh paint and new wood filled the living room. Crocodile, exhausted, dropped the bags on the couch, the scent of fabric and polished leather mingling with the furniture. He collapsed into the nearest armchair, his boots clacking on the hardwood, the faint scent of his unlit cigar lingering. “I’m dead,” he mumbled, his voice hoarse with fatigue.

Perona and Vivi, brimming with energy, dove into the bags, the scent of their new clothes filling the air. They tried on dresses and shoes, their laughter echoing, their floral and fruity perfumes dancing around them. Crocodile, watching them, felt a mix of irritation and affection, their joyful scent grounding him.

Mihawk entered, his black coat exuding a soothing leather scent. Noticing Crocodile’s exhausted look, he raised an eyebrow. “Rough day?” he asked, his deep voice resonating in the living room.

Crocodile sighed, the scent of his unlit cigar intensifying. “Yeah, I took Perona and Vivi shopping. It was a marathon. I’m drained.”

Mihawk nodded, understanding, his leather scent reinforcing his calm. “I see. Trips with the girls can be taxing.” He approached, placing a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, the leather scent comforting.

“They wore me out,” Crocodile grumbled, sitting up slightly. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller.”

Mihawk let out a quiet laugh, the leather scent filling the air. “You deserve some rest. I bet they made you buy a ton of stuff.”

Crocodile nodded, a tired smile on his lips. “Yeah, they spent who-knows-how-much on dresses and shoes. And I had to fight other mothers for sparkly heels. I’m done.”

Mihawk, amused, wrapped an arm around his shoulders, the leather scent strengthening their bond. “You did good work. The girls are happy, and that’s what matters, right?”

Crocodile grunted, the scent of his unlit cigar lingering. “I guess. Better to make them happy than disappoint them…”

Mihawk smiled, his piercing gaze softened. “Exactly. They’re princesses, after all. They deserve to be spoiled.”

---

Later, the scent of fresh pizza filled the house as the family gathered for dinner. Buggy, back from Ace’s game, entered, his sweet perfume and fresh makeup scent contrasting with the relaxed atmosphere. Ace, his freckles visible under the light, recounted his game, the scent of his clean jersey wafting. Luffy and Zoro, their loud voices bickering over the biggest slice, added a clean-clothes scent to the lively ambiance. Sabo, calmer, watched with a smile, his mild soap scent mingling with the pizza.

Perona and Vivi, still excited, showed Buggy their new dresses, their floral and fruity perfumes filling the air. “Papa, look what Papa Crocodile got us!” they cried, twirling, their puffy skirts rustling.

Buggy, his red nose gleaming, burst into laughter, his sweet perfume amplifying his enthusiasm. “Wow, my princesses, you’re stunning! Crocodile, you survived that?”

Crocodile, slumped on the couch, grunted, the scent of his unlit cigar lingering. “Barely. Those two drained me.”

Mihawk, sitting beside him, chuckled softly, his leather scent soothing. “He was heroic. Battled mothers for sparkly shoes.”

Buggy approached, his rings clinking, and patted Crocodile’s shoulder. “You’re a champ, Croccy. The girls are over the moon.”

Crocodile, despite his fatigue, cracked a smile, the pizza scent and family warmth lifting him. “Yeah, but next time, it’s you or Mihawk.”

Perona and Vivi, their laughter ringing, settled at the table, their new shoes sparkling under the light. The house, filled with the scent of pizza, varied perfumes, and the sound of chatter, buzzed with love and chaos. Crocodile, finally relaxed, felt the tension fade, the scents of leather and cigar blending with the family’s, a reminder he’d survived this marathon for his princesses’ happiness.

🤡🐊🦅🩷💛🖤💚🩵❤️

Chapter Text

The Grand Line living room buzzed with joyful energy, the scent of freshly brewed tea and warm cookies filling the air. Sunset rays filtered through the curtains, casting golden light on the polished hardwood. Sabo, Zoro, and Luffy, sprawled on the plush rug, shared funny stories from their day, their voices overlapping in lively chaos. Luffy gestured wildly, his fruity soap scent wafting, while Zoro, slumped against a cushion, tossed sarcastic remarks, his minty shampoo adding a fresh note. Sabo, calmer, chuckled softly, his chamomile tea scent blending into the vibe. Mihawk, seated in an armchair, his coat draped over the armrest, listened with quiet amusement, his leather scent soothing against the ruckus.

Suddenly, Luffy leapt up, eyes sparkling. “Bet Ace won his soccer game today!” he shouted, his voice echoing, the warm cookie scent fueling his excitement.

Zoro rolled his eyes, mint scent drifting as he crossed his arms. “Yeah, yeah, Ace is a star. You never shut up about it.”

Luffy pouted, his fruity soap scent intensifying with his indignation. “But it’s true! Ace is awesome, he should be on the national team!”

Sabo cut in, smiling, his chamomile tea scent calming the air. “Luffy’s right, Ace is talented. It’s not his first game. He always shines, and Papa and Papa notice.”

Luffy nodded vigorously, cookie scent distracting him briefly. “Exactly! He’s gonna hit the top!”

Mihawk sighed, noticing the cookie platter, fresh from the oven, was empty. The scent of coconut and melted butter lingered, but the cookies were gone. “Guess these gluttons devoured them,” he muttered, his black tea scent underscoring his mock annoyance.

Sabo, Zoro, and Luffy exchanged guilty glances, their clean clothes scent betraying their morning snack raid. Zoro, a coconut cookie fan, looked down. Mihawk, catching their sheepish looks, raised an eyebrow. “Nothing to say in your defense?”

Sabo flashed an innocent grin, chamomile tea scent softening his voice. “We were hungry, and they were too good!”

Zoro nodded, mint scent wafting. “Yeah, couldn’t resist. Fresh from the oven, perfect timing!”

Luffy beamed. “I fit three in my mouth at once!” His fruity soap scent mixed with his laugh.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, his coat’s leather scent amplifying his amusement. “Glad you enjoyed my cookies.”

Luffy nodded eagerly. “Yeah, so good! We want more!”

Zoro and Sabo agreed, their unified voices filling the room. “Exactly, more please.”

Mihawk, feigning sternness, crossed his arms, black tea scent drifting. “You’ll get fat if you keep this up.”

The boys stared, serious, cookie scent lingering. Luffy patted his stomach. “Pfft, no way! We’ve got huge stomachs, we can eat tons!”

Zoro tapped his belly, mint scent boosting his confidence. “Yup, we’re pro eaters. Give us all the cookies you got!”

Mihawk paused, black tea scent soothing. Buggy and Crocodile were out, and he considered lecturing them on moderation. But the thought of their discomfort amused him. He put on a stern face, leather scent bolstering his authority. “Alright, boys. Don’t overdo it. There are limits, even for you.”

With a sly grin, he fetched another batch of cookies, coconut and butter scent flooding the room. He set them down. “Go ahead, eat if you’re so sure. But don’t complain when your belly’s a ripe watermelon!”

---

The boys dove in, coconut and burnt sugar scent saturating the air. Luffy scarfed his down, fruity soap scent mixing with crumbs. Zoro, methodical, savored the coconut ones, mint scent lingering. Sabo, measured, nibbled happily, chamomile tea scent contrasting his appetite. Mihawk, watching from his chair, sipped his tea, leather and black tea scents fueling his petty satisfaction.

Soon, the boys slowed, cookie scent fading. Luffy rubbed his belly, fruity soap scent barely masking his unease. “Uh, Papa… I might’ve eaten too much…”

Zoro, uncomfortable, nodded, mint scent faint. “Yeah… we overdid it.”

Sabo, standing, clutched his stomach, chamomile tea scent useless. “Didn’t know cookies could hurt this much…”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, black tea scent underscoring his innocent tone. “Really? I warned you overeating has consequences. But you were so confident…”

Luffy groaned, cookie scent on his lips. “OK, you win. Lesson learned.”

Zoro, doubled over, muttered, “No more cookie binges…”

Sabo, hand on his belly, nodded, tea scent drifting. “Yeah… too much of a good thing…”

Mihawk softened, setting down his tea, leather scent comforting. “A good father looks after you.” He approached, gently massaging their bellies, black tea and leather scents soothing. “Rest, it’ll pass.”

The boys, eased by his care, slumped on the rug, cookie and tea scents lingering. They felt slight remorse, but Mihawk’s tenderness erased their discomfort. Luffy murmured, fruity soap scent returning: “Thanks, Papa…”

---

Later, fresh paint and new wood scents lingered in the living room. Buggy and Crocodile returned, Buggy’s sweet perfume and Crocodile’s cigar scent announcing them. Learning of the incident, they scolded Mihawk, their disapproval—perfume and cigar—filling the air. “You were too harsh!” Crocodile growled, his hook glinting.

Buggy, rings clinking, added, “They’re just hungry kids, Hawky!”

Mihawk, black tea scent calming his defense, shrugged. “I was teaching moderation.” He felt slight remorse, leather scent bolstering his resolve, but knew he’d acted for their good. Even if it meant two weeks without intimacy with his husbands, their frustration’s scent a punishment.

The boys, recovered, chuckled softly on the rug, cookie scent lingering. The house, filled with tea, perfume, and cigar scents, buzzed with love and chaos. Mihawk, sipping his tea, smirked, leather and petty satisfaction scents comforting him. He’d won this round, even if the cost was high.

🤡🦅🐊

Chapter Text

Crocodile leaned against the open window frame, his back turned to the room. A cigarette hung between his lips, smoke curling lazily upward and blending with the warm afternoon breeze. His violet eyes, half-lidded, were fixed on some invisible point in the distance, as if searching for escape from the chaos behind him. His husbands and their children, all gathered in the living room, formed a noisy constellation of laughter, arguments, and scattered toys. He sighed, a deep, gravelly sound, and flicked the cigarette ash out into the air.

“Dad, can we go ride our bikes?” Sabo’s bright, hopeful voice cut through the noise. The blond boy stood by the door, his hair tousled by the courtyard breeze, a helmet hanging too large on his head. Next to him, Luffy bounced impatiently, black hair messy and eyes sparkling with excitement. “An adult has to come watch us!”

Crocodile slowly turned his head, his violet gaze sliding over the two boys. He sighed again, deeper this time, and shrugged with calculated nonchalance. “Fine, but Mihawk’s taking you. I’m not playing babysitter today.” His voice was low and gravelly, tinged with irritation, but the corners of his mouth lifted in the faintest smile.

He pointed a gloved finger toward Mihawk, who was sitting in a leather armchair across the room. Mihawk looked up from his book, golden eyes catching the light. A neatly trimmed beard framed his stoic face. “Ask Mihawk first,” Crocodile added, turning back toward the window.

“Dad! Can we go ride bikes with Papa Croco?” Luffy called, his high-pitched voice echoing across the room. He ran toward Mihawk, nearly tripping over a toy left on the floor.

Mihawk closed his book with a crisp snap and cast an amused glance at Crocodile. “Mmm. All right, but only if Crocodile agrees.” He crossed his arms, fully aware that the final decision rested on his partner’s shoulders.

Crocodile rolled his eyes theatrically. The kids had decided to annoy him too, apparently. “Fine,” he grumbled, crushing his cigarette in the ashtray on the windowsill. “But don’t go too far. And don’t do anything stupid.” He straightened up, adjusted his fur coat, and reluctantly followed the children, his heavy footsteps echoing across the wooden floor.

---

Outside, the air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and warm asphalt. The yard, lined with neatly trimmed hedges, stretched toward a small country road where the boys often rode their bikes. Crocodile strode forward in long, heavy steps, his boots clacking on the pavement, while Sabo and Luffy pedaled ahead, their laughter ringing through the open air. Mihawk, walking beside him, kept an even pace, his legendary sword Yoru glinting in the sunlight across his back.

Crocodile’s sharp eyes tracked the boys’ every move. Luffy, as always, pedaled with reckless enthusiasm, black hair whipped by the wind. Sabo, more cautious, kept a safer distance, though even he got caught up in the thrill of it. The two began to speed up, their bikes wobbling dangerously near the road’s edge.

“Watch it!” Crocodile roared, his voice booming like a cannon blast. He lunged forward, coat billowing behind him, catching Luffy just as the boy lost his balance. The bike tipped, and Luffy went tumbling onto the gravel with a startled cry.

Crocodile knelt beside him, his large gloved hands inspecting the scraped knee. A red scratch cut across the skin—but it was nothing serious. Luffy’s eyes went wide as he clenched his teeth, trying not to cry. “Damn…” Crocodile muttered, his tone hovering between worry and irritation. He pulled a silk handkerchief—absurdly elegant for the moment—from his pocket and dabbed carefully at the wound.

“You’ll have an awesome scar, Luffy!” Sabo shouted, circling them on his bike.

Luffy’s face lit up instantly, pain forgotten. “Yeah! It’s gonna look so cool!” He puffed out his chest, determined to prove his bravery.

Crocodile tied the makeshift bandage with care, his gloved fingers moving with surprising gentleness. “Don’t go so fast next time,” he said, voice stern but tinged with warmth meant only for his kids. He rose to his full height, towering over them. “No stupid stunts, got it?”

“We promise!” Sabo and Luffy chorused, their voices brimming with enthusiasm and sincerity.

Crocodile nodded, satisfied. He turned his piercing gaze to Sabo. “Make sure your brother doesn’t do anything dumb, all right?” Sabo nodded solemnly, and Crocodile lifted his hands in surrender. “Good. Now get back home before you start more trouble.” He gave them one last stern look before turning away, his coat flaring dramatically behind him.

---

Back home, the living room was a whirlwind of activity. Luffy, still buzzing with energy despite his bandaged knee, proudly showed off his injury to Ace and Zoro. Ace, eyes gleaming with mischief, gave a low whistle. “Not bad, little brother! That’s a real warrior wound!” Zoro grunted approvingly, his three earrings glinting in the light.

Perona and Vivi, seated at a small pink-draped table surrounded by dolls, rolled their eyes. Perona, her pink hair tied into elaborate twin tails, crossed her arms. “You’re all idiots,” she declared, pouring imaginary tea for Vivi, her rosy eyes sparkling with amused disdain.

“Yeah, having tea is way better,” Vivi added, her long blue hair cascading elegantly over her shoulders. She handed a plate of cookies to Buggy, who played the perfect guest. “Right, Papa?”

Buggy took the cup with an exaggerated smile. “Absolutely! This tea is divine!” He winked at Perona, who giggled behind her hand.

From his armchair, Mihawk watched the scene over the rim of his book. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, golden eyes glinting with quiet amusement. “They’re boys,” he said simply, voice calm and rich. “They live for dirt and scraped knees.”

“Those boys are stupid,” Perona repeated as she poured another cup. “Tea parties are much more civilized.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, but his smirk widened. Buggy, sensing an opportunity, offered him a heart-shaped teacup. “Come on, Papa Mihawk, sit with us! It’s delicious!”

Mihawk shook his head, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of amusement. “I’ll pass,” he murmured, returning to his book. Yet his gaze kept drifting back to the table, where Perona and Vivi reigned supreme as tea-time queens.

Crocodile, meanwhile, had let himself be convinced to sit. He took a delicate sip from a teacup, and his violet eyes widened slightly. “This is… actually not bad,” he admitted reluctantly, prompting a victorious squeal from Perona.

“Of course it’s not! Vivi and I made everything ourselves!” Perona bragged, ignoring Buggy’s sly grin as he secretly sipped his tea. In truth, he had spent the entire afternoon in the kitchen—kneading dough and watching the oven while the girls decorated the cookies with pink and blue icing.

Beaming, Vivi offered a plate of star-shaped cookies to the table. “Try these! I made the stars myself!” The cookies were so perfectly shaped they almost looked too pretty to eat.

Mihawk finally set down his book and picked up a cookie, turning it thoughtfully in his hand as if it were a piece of art. “Very well, very well,” he said in a mock-bored tone. He took a bite, and a flicker of satisfaction crossed his golden eyes. “Excellent. A young culinary prodigy.”

---

By the end of the day, the house was bathed in a soft, golden glow as the sunset painted the walls in warm shades of orange. Perona and Vivi, tireless as ever, had transformed the dining room into a royal tea salon. Pink chairs, dolls, and stuffed animals surrounded the table, where the boys—Ace, Zoro, Sabo, and Luffy—sat reluctantly, their mud-stained clothes clashing with the delicate decor.

Perona, standing on a chair to reach everyone, poured tea with dramatic flair.
“Sit up straight!” she barked at Ace, who slouched lazily in his seat. Vivi, gentler, showed Zoro how to hold the cup properly. “Not like that—like a princess!”

Luffy, his knee still bandaged, laughed so hard he nearly spilled his tea. Sabo tried to follow the girls’ rules seriously, though his grin gave him away. Ace snuck cookies when no one was looking, and Zoro grumbled but complied for Vivi’s sake.

Crocodile, seated at the end of the table, watched the scene with an unreadable expression—a quiet tenderness he would never admit softening his gaze. Mihawk, beside him, had long abandoned his book, sipping his tea with a rare, genuine smile.

Buggy, basking in attention, spun wildly exaggerated tales about his supposed culinary triumphs, making the children burst into laughter. “And then I had to beat the dough for three whole hours to make it that fluffy!” he boasted, ignoring Mihawk’s and Crocodile’s skeptical looks.

The little family, in all its glorious chaos, laughed and shared stories, cookies, and tea. The arguments, scrapes, and sighs of earlier seemed far away, replaced by warmth and simple joy. Under the fond eyes of their fathers, the children embodied a perfect blend of mischief, energy, and innocence—and for a brief, golden moment, the house was a haven of peace and laughter.

🤡🦅🐊🩷❤️‍🔥

Chapter Text

Mihawk, Buggy, and Crocodile were finally alone in the living room, the door closed behind them as the last footsteps of the children faded down the hall. The soft glow of leather-shaded lamps cast gentle shadows over the Persian rugs, and the air still carried the sweet scent of Perona’s cookies, mingled with the sharper aroma of the wine Mihawk had left to breathe. A thick, almost tangible silence settled between them—not the tense silence of the day, but the rare kind that follows chaos and promises peace.

“Thank God it’s quiet now,” sighed Crocodile, stretching on the couch. His long legs, clad in black leather, brushed the carpet. His straight, dark hair slipped down his forehead as he leaned his head back. His half-closed violet eyes reflected the orange lamp light. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt, revealing the hook-shaped scar slashing across his throat—a memento from another life, another world.

Mihawk settled back into the tawny leather armchair, his short black hair immaculate, his beard trimmed to precision. He turned his glass of wine between his fingers, the ruby reflections dancing in his golden eyes. “Yes, it’s a relief,” he murmured, his deep voice smooth, almost like a purr. He crossed one leg over the other; his fitted black trousers accentuated the line of his thighs. He took a sip—the South Blue vintage left a velvety trail on his tongue.

Buggy, meanwhile, all but collapsed onto the couch beside Crocodile. His electric-blue hair, freed from its tie, tumbled in messy waves over his bare shoulders. He still wore his faded striped shirt, but his feet were bare, toenails painted a loud crimson red—a remnant of Perona’s “beauty salon” session. He let out a dramatic sigh, resting his head on Crocodile’s shoulder. “I’m ex-haus-ted,” he groaned, dragging out every syllable like a clown tired of his act.

Crocodile let out a low, raspy chuckle that rumbled in his chest. He wrapped an arm around Buggy’s waist, pulling him closer with ease. The clown’s body was warm, pliant, and still smelled faintly of sugar icing. “Come here,” he murmured, his gloved fingers sliding under the shirt to brush against the warm skin of Buggy’s back. Buggy nestled closer, a lazy smile curling his lips, his blue strands tickling Crocodile’s chin.

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes following the motion. He said nothing, but his lips curved into a faint smirk. Buggy, sensing the gaze, reached out a hand toward him. “Come on, Daddy Mihawk… join us,” he whispered, voice low and hoarse, thick with suggestion.

Mihawk set his glass on the table with a soft clink. He rose, his tall frame outlined in the dim light, and stepped closer. Buggy grabbed him by the shirt and tugged until Mihawk knelt on the couch between them. “We should make love tonight,” Buggy said bluntly, his green eyes glinting with mischief.

The silence that followed was thick with electricity. Crocodile cleared his throat, a faint color rising to his cheeks. “Uh… yeah,” he said, his voice lower than usual. “That might be a good idea.”

Mihawk, composed as ever, gave a slow nod. A slow, almost predatory smile tugged at his lips. “Why not,” he murmured, leaning in to capture Buggy’s lips in a deep, lingering kiss. His hands—precise as a swordsman’s—slid down Buggy’s hips, pressing him closer.

Crocodile wasn’t far behind. He tilted his head, his lips brushing Buggy’s neck just below the ear, where the skin was softest. He left a trail of kisses, biting lightly, drawing a muffled moan from Buggy. His gloved hands moved lower, undoing the belt of the clown’s pants with calculated slowness. The leather creaked, fabric slipped, and Buggy arched his back, grinding his hips toward Crocodile’s.

Mihawk pulled back just enough to remove his shirt, revealing a sculpted chest traced with old scars—relics of legendary duels. His black hair gleamed under the lamp’s light, and his golden eyes never left Buggy. The clown, panting, yanked off his own shirt in one swift motion, blue strands cascading over his shoulders. He turned to Crocodile, his trembling fingers hastily unbuttoning the man’s shirt. The fabric parted, exposing sun-browned skin, tense muscles, and the hook-shaped scar running down his abdomen.

Buggy sighed in pleasure as Mihawk’s hands brushed his nipples, pinching gently, while Crocodile’s hand slid between his thighs, pressing his erection through the remaining fabric. Their three bodies pressed together, heat building, breaths mingling. Buggy rocked his hips forward, soft moans spilling from his lips as he sought Mihawk’s mouth, then Crocodile’s, in a messy dance of kisses.

He was just about to unbuckle Mihawk’s belt, fingers trembling with excitement, when a small, high-pitched voice shattered the silence like breaking glass.

“Daddy…”

All three froze. Buggy jumped to his feet, scrambling off the couch as if shocked, and pulled his pants up in record time. He ran his hands through his messy blue hair, trying to look halfway decent. Mihawk, lips still swollen, sighed heavily, while Crocodile sank back into the couch with a frustrated growl.

Zoro stood in the doorway—barefoot, green hair tousled, clutching a sword-shaped plushie. His big green eyes blinked at them, utterly unaware of the chaos he’d just caused. “I had a nightmare,” he announced simply, as if commenting on the weather.

Mihawk ran a hand down his face, suppressing a nervous laugh. “Zoro…” he began, his deep voice tinged with restrained annoyance. “Why are you awake so late?”

Zoro blinked, unfazed. “There was a monster with three heads. It was eating my swords.”

Buggy, still half-dressed, forced a smile. “Did you… see what your dads and I were doing on the couch?” he asked, an impish glint in his eye.

Zoro frowned, confused. “You were doing weird hugs?”

Crocodile stifled a laugh behind his hand, while Mihawk let out a quiet chuckle. “No,” Buggy said, shaking his head. “We were… rehearsing a play. A very important one.”

Zoro nodded, satisfied. “Okay. Can I sleep with Luffy?”

“Yes,” Mihawk said, standing to guide the child down the hall. “Go with Luffy or Ace. That’ll keep the nightmares away.”

Zoro waved and disappeared down the corridor, his small footsteps pattering on the wood floor. Crocodile waited until the door closed, then let his head fall back against the couch. “Thank God,” he grumbled. “That was really annoying.”

Mihawk returned with an ironic smile. “I think exhaustion got the best of us,” he said, reclaiming his wine glass. He took a sip, then set it down again. “Let’s go to bed.”

Crocodile stood, straightening his shirt. His violet eyes still glimmered faintly, but the tension had faded. “Tomorrow, we pick up where we left off,” he muttered, wrapping an arm around Buggy’s shoulders. “Without an audience.”

Buggy giggled, his blue hair bouncing around his face. “Deal. But next time, we lock the door.”

They turned off the lamps one by one, letting the house sink into gentle silence, broken only by the ticking clock and the distant snores of children. The night, at last, was theirs.

🤡🦅🐊💛

Chapter Text

The car headlights swept across the front of the house as Ace and Sabo stumbled up the gravel driveway, two silhouettes wavering in the dark. The living room clock showed 12:47 a.m. — one hour and forty-seven minutes past curfew.

Buggy, who had been pacing since 11:30, stood waiting in the entryway, arms crossed, electric-blue hair bristling like bolts of anger. His red nose glowed under the harsh ceiling light, and his pale eyes flashed brighter than any circus spotlight.

“Ace, Sabo! You were told to be home an hour ago — you’re late. We agreed you could go to that party, but you broke a basic rule. Did you drink too much?” His voice rose from a growl to a roar.

Ace, a sweaty strand of hair sticking to his forehead, rolled his eyes. He still smelled of cheap beer and bonfire smoke. “Oh, stop yelling at us,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

Sabo, calmer but with cheeks flushed from alcohol, tried to ease the tension. “We just lost track of time…”

Buggy jabbed a finger toward his seventeen-year-old son. “Sabo, don’t talk to me like that — I’m your father!” The word father cracked through the air like a whip. He refused to let adolescence turn his sons into strangers.

Sabo rolled his eyes again, a gesture he’d perfected these last few months. “Tch, it’s only an hour late…”

“What do you even have phones for?” Buggy barked, snatching his own from his pocket and waving it in the air. “You know perfectly well how to text girls and boys, but when your parents call—” He stopped short, his throat tightening. The next words tangled into silence.

Ace, who had been staring at the floor, suddenly lifted his head. His dark eyes burned with a mix of anger and defiance. “You’re not even our real father! None of you are — not you, Mihawk, or Crocodile!”

The silence that followed was so thick it could have been cut with a blade. Buggy froze, mouth slightly open, like a clown who’d forgotten the punch line. His hands dropped limply to his sides.

From the shadowed hallway, Mihawk stepped forward. His golden eyes, cold as steel, fixed on Ace. “Ace… what did you just say?”

Ace swallowed but stood his ground. “I-It’s true, isn’t it?” His voice trembled, betraying his bravado.

Mihawk clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth — sharp, disapproving. “That’s no excuse to speak like that.”

Ace looked away, fists clenched. “I’m just saying… you’re not our real fathers…” he muttered, low but clear enough to pierce Buggy’s heart.

Crocodile, who had remained silent until then, stepped forward. His boots thudded on the floor, his fur coat rustling like a threat. His violet eyes gleamed with controlled anger. “That’s enough. You’re grounded for a month. Sabo, two weeks.” His voice was low, cutting, final. “And Ace, don’t ever do that again. I know kids your age say cruel things to their parents — we shouldn’t take it to heart. But it’s hurtful, and you haven’t even apologized.”

Ace sighed, shoulders slumped. Sabo, more reasonable, nodded without protest. The two teens trudged upstairs, doors slamming one after the other.

Buggy stood in the middle of the living room, frozen like a statue of salt. His eyes filled with tears. “They… they yelled at me…” His voice cracked.

Crocodile, leaning in the kitchen doorway, sighed. “Go ahead and cry, Buggy.”

“I’m not crying!” Buggy protested, though his voice already quavered. He turned toward Mihawk, who pulled him into a silent embrace. The clown buried his face in his husband’s shirt, shoulders shaking with muffled sobs.

“It’ll pass,” Mihawk murmured, running a steady, gentle hand down Buggy’s back. His fingers combed through the blue strands, untangling them with infinite patience.

Crocodile rolled his eyes and disappeared into the kitchen. He returned minutes later with a warm ham-and-cheese sandwich. “Are you done with your meltdown?” he asked dryly.

Buggy lifted his head, eyes puffy. “Oh no, teenagers are so cruel! I know we’re not their biological parents… What if they all hate me? If it were you two, you wouldn’t care — but me!”

Crocodile shoved the sandwich into his hands. “Stop whining like a puppy and eat.”

Mihawk tightened his hold. “That’s enough, stop crying.”

Buggy sniffled loudly. “And what if the others think like him? I took them off the streets… I even argued with you about it, and you just accepted it… But now that they’re teenagers, being a parent feels so hard. And you’re just eating a sandwich! Didn’t you hear what he said?”

Mihawk sighed, though his gaze stayed soft. “Crocodile and I aren’t devastated, Buggy. Teen boys can be difficult. Girls are usually calmer.”

“But girls bring home boys,” Crocodile muttered, biting into his sandwich.

Mihawk shot him a look. “It’s too soon for that.”

Buggy gasped, eyes wide. “Boys?! Boys are forbidden here! If they’re going to fall in love with a boy, it’ll be me, their father!”

Mihawk sighed. Crocodile crossed his arms. “You’re overreacting.”

“Oh, really?! What if they bring home the wrong boys? Hoodlums! Older boys with cars?! What if they get pregnant— I’ll never recover from the heart attack!”

Mihawk closed his eyes. “Buggy, you’re spiraling again.”

“Remember what your mother did when she swore we were older than you, Buggy?” Crocodile said, smirking.

Mihawk’s eyes glinted with amusement. “I remember…”

“Older boyfriends are acceptable,” Buggy muttered suddenly, changing his stance as fast as a circus act.

Mihawk frowned. “I thought you were against older boys…”

Crocodile shrugged. “You change your mind faster than the wind.”

Buggy scratched his neck. “First, because my own partners are… older. And second, as long as he’s not twice their age, it’s fine.”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a look. “Not twice their—” Crocodile groaned, rubbing his face. “Buggy, that’s not happening.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “You’re afraid of all boys, Buggy. There are good ones.”

Buggy folded his arms stubbornly. “I’ll decide if my daughter deserves that boy or not. And besides, I got lucky with you two — still have my husbands… more or less not complete jerks.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “You’ve always called us jerks.”

Crocodile smirked. “Not wrong.”

Mihawk turned back to him. “We should talk to Ace tomorrow. He seemed drunker than Sabo. Maybe something’s bothering him — that’s why he lashed out.”

Buggy nodded firmly. “Yes, we’ll talk to Ace tomorrow.”

“I agree,” said Crocodile.

---

The next morning, sunlight poured into the kitchen. Ace sat at the table, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. His black hair was damp from the shower, and an oversized shirt hung off his shoulders. Crocodile leaned against the fridge, arms crossed. Mihawk stood by the wall, golden eyes fixed calmly on the boy.

“Ace, there’s something we need to discuss,” Mihawk said evenly.

Ace squirmed in his seat. “I’m sorry about last night… and for what I said to Dad.” He looked down. “Is he… not here because he’s mad? Not that I care,” he added quickly, trying to sound detached.

Mihawk crossed his arms. “Buggy’s not here because we wanted to talk first.”

Crocodile stepped forward. “We want you to be honest.”

Ace sighed. “I already apologized… I didn’t mean it. There’s nothing wrong. I just had fun with Sabo last night, that’s all.”

Mihawk frowned. He’d known Ace since the boy was ten — dirty, hungry, clinging to Sabo’s hand. He could tell when he was lying. “You’re not being honest. There’s a reason you said those things.”

Crocodile nodded. “Talk.”

Ace stared into his cup, fingers fidgeting. “I… got into a fight last night. Sabo said not to mention it… Someone made fun of him, and I just wanted to help. But they said he wasn’t really my brother, and my family was weird. That it wasn’t normal to have three dads. And there’s… someone I like. He looked at me like I was a freak. I got angry, but…”

Mihawk and Crocodile listened silently. Ace looked up, eyes bright. “He’s… not a girl.”

Mihawk raised a brow. Crocodile folded his arms. “You… like a boy?” Mihawk asked carefully.

Ace nodded. “His name’s Yamato. He’s biologically a girl, but he’s trans.” He tried to explain clearly, afraid of sounding clumsy.

Another silence fell. Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged glances — surprised, but not shocked. Ace had always been… different.

Mihawk crouched to his level and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have fought, Ace. Violence isn’t the answer,” he said gently.

Crocodile stepped closer. “And about this person…”

“I shouldn’t have agreed to anything anyway, because I think he finds me weird.”

A hand ruffled Ace’s hair. Buggy, who had quietly entered the kitchen, leaned down with a soft smile. His blue hair was tied in a messy ponytail, and he wore an apron with a clown face on it. “Next time you argue or get hurt by someone you care about, come talk to us, okay? Don’t bottle it up — tell me, tell your fathers what’s going on.”

Mihawk and Crocodile smiled as Buggy pulled Ace into a hug. The teen froze at first, then melted against him, burying his face in Buggy’s shoulder.

Ace’s phone rang. He pulled back and looked at the screen. “Oh? It’s Yamato! Dad—”

“Answer it. You can tell us later,” Buggy said, smiling.

Ace dashed out of the kitchen, phone pressed to his ear. Mihawk turned to Buggy. “You handled that well.”

Buggy puffed out his chest. “I did! You heard him, Mihawk said it!” He gestured wildly, nearly knocking over Ace’s cereal bowl. “You two are amazing dads!”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “You’re more immature than a teenager.”

Crocodile sighed, shaking his head. “Let him bask in it.”

💛❤️💚💙

Chapter Text

The kitchen was bathed in soft, golden morning light filtering through white linen curtains. The smell of freshly ground coffee filled the air, mingling with that of the still-warm croissants Crocodile had brought back from the port bakery. Mihawk sat at the solid oak table, a steaming cup between his hands. His black hair gleamed in the sunlight, and his golden eyes—half-lidded—seemed to focus on something far beyond the window. He wore a black shirt open at the collar, revealing pale, porcelain skin.

The door creaked softly open. Sabo stepped in. He wore an oversized gray sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor. His usually calm face was tight, his lips pressed into a frown. He froze when he saw Mihawk, hesitating on the threshold.

Mihawk set down his cup with a delicate clink, his golden eyes landing on the boy. “Sabo, you look upset. What’s wrong?” His voice was deep and even, carrying the warmth he reserved for his children.

Sabo leaned against the counter, crossing his arms. “Dad, how would you feel if you found out that one of your friends liked the same girl as you? And he tells you now, right when you were about to confess to her?” The words came out in a rush, as if he’d rehearsed them a thousand times.

Mihawk sighed, rubbing his face with one hand. His fingers brushed against the neatly trimmed beard along his jaw. “I suppose that’s not what you wanted to hear… especially if you were planning to confess to her.” He stood, approached Sabo, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. “But remember, we can’t control other people’s feelings—even our friends’. And sometimes those feelings are… complicated.”

Sabo frowned, his blue eyes flashing. “So you’re saying he had the right not to tell me? I’ve been talking to him about Koala for months! And just when I finally decide to tell her how I feel, he drops that on me!”

Mihawk sighed again, deeper this time. “No, I’m not saying he was right to hide it. Communication and honesty are crucial—especially with friends.” He gave Sabo’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “But it’s also normal to be upset. This kind of situation hurts. You just have to deal with it with maturity.”

Sabo smirked faintly. “First of all, I’ve never heard you talk this much. I’m telling Dad about this. Second… I’m calling Koala. I’ll tell her how I feel, like I planned. She’ll choose who she loves.”

Mihawk allowed himself a rare smile, his golden eyes glinting with amusement. “I’m talking more because this matters to you.” He sat back down and took another sip. “Letting Koala choose is a good idea. But whatever she decides, respect her choice. That’s what makes a man.”

Sabo nodded, determination flickering in his gaze. “If I’d known it was that simple, I would’ve told you sooner.”

“Things are never simple when it comes to feelings,” Mihawk murmured, bringing the cup to his lips. “But I’m here for you, Sabo. Talk to me anytime. That’s what fathers are for.”

“Thanks, Dad!” Sabo grabbed his phone, already dialing. He ran out of the kitchen, his voice echoing down the hall. “Hey, Koala, I was just calling to tell you…” The door slammed, cutting off the rest.

Mihawk smiled—small, sincere. He took another sip of coffee, savoring its warmth. He hoped things would work out for Sabo. Koala… The name vaguely reminded him of an old friend’s daughter, but he brushed the thought away. That wasn’t his world—not today.

---

The front door burst open with theatrical flair. “My darling Hawky! How was your day?” Buggy stormed into the kitchen, electric-blue hair bouncing around his face, his bright red nose shining under the light. He wore a gaudy striped coat and carried a bag full of packages—probably costumes charged to Mihawk or Crocodile’s credit card. Crocodile followed, much calmer, his fur-lined coat rustling as he walked. His black, straight hair framed a severe face, though his violet eyes held a trace of amusement.

Mihawk set down his cup, smiling faintly. “It was peaceful. Sabo had a small… romantic crisis earlier.”

“A girl! What girl?! Tell me everything about this girl!” Buggy leapt onto the table, knocking over Mihawk’s cup. The coffee spilled across the wood, forming a dark puddle.

Mihawk sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Easy.” He grabbed a cloth and wiped it up. “Sabo’s in love with a girl named Koala. But he found out one of his friends loves her too. He was about to confess, but his friend confessed first. Sabo’s… upset.”

Buggy’s eyes widened, his hands flailing like windmill blades. “Oh my god! It’s just like a K-drama love triangle!”

Crocodile rolled his eyes, leaning against the fridge. “Calm down, Buggy. This isn’t a drama. It’s real life.”

Mihawk nodded. “No need to make a big scene. I gave Sabo some advice. He’s calling Koala to tell her how he feels.”

Buggy puffed out his chest proudly. “Sabo’s got this! He’s handsome, smart, and he’s my son!”

Mihawk rubbed his temple, used to Buggy’s boasting. “Yes, yes, he’s all that… but don’t forget there’s another boy involved.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Buggy muttered, waving his hand dismissively.

Mihawk gave him a sharp look. “Buggy, try to be understanding. His friend has every right to express his feelings, even if he spoke first.”

“Dad! Daaad!” Sabo’s voice echoed through the house, followed by hurried footsteps.

Mihawk turned just as Sabo rushed into the kitchen, breathless, his glasses askew and a radiant grin on his face. “Koala said she likes me too! She’s my girlfriend now!”

“A girlfriend?! WE HAVE A GIRLFRIEND!!!” Buggy screamed, eyes wide.

Sabo and Buggy jumped up and down in unison, shouting, “I have a girlfriend!”

“He has a girlfriend!” Buggy repeated, arms in the air—then froze, pointing a dramatic finger at Sabo. “Hold on! You’re not bringing her home unless I’m here! But congratulations, son!”

Mihawk smiled, pleased for Sabo. He looked skyward at Buggy’s antics. “Buggy, stop. Sabo’s seventeen. He’s allowed to have a girlfriend.”

Crocodile approached, placing a hand on Sabo’s shoulder. A small crocodile-shaped patch was sewn onto the boy’s sweatshirt—a gift from Perona. “Congratulations, kid,” he murmured, his violet eyes softening.

Buggy clapped a hand on Mihawk’s shoulder, grinning mischievously. “So, Hawky, since you’re so happy Sabo’s becoming a mature young man with a girlfriend…” He leaned in, eyes gleaming. “You’ll be the one explaining the birds and the bees to him, right?”

Mihawk closed his eyes, knowing exactly where this was going. “Sabo’s seventeen. He’s old enough to figure that out himself.”

Crocodile crossed his arms. “Still, he can always come to us if he has questions,” he added, preempting Buggy’s next jab.

Buggy squeezed Mihawk’s shoulder tighter. “You know… you’re both such good dads. Aren’t you? Or am I wrong?” His tone was mock-innocent, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

Mihawk sighed. “No, you’re not wrong.”

Crocodile nodded. “Of course we’re good fathers.”

Buggy clapped his hands together triumphantly. “Glad we’re all on the same page! I’ll let you two keep chatting with Sabo, my loves.” He sauntered off, humming, blue hair bouncing behind him.

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a resigned look. “He’s never going to stop,” Crocodile muttered.

---

An hour later, Sabo left the kitchen, cheeks flushed and eyes downcast. The talk had been… thorough. Mihawk and Crocodile had handled the topic with their usual mix of bluntness and care—protection, respect, consent. Sabo had nodded, mumbled a “thanks,” and darted off to his room.

Crocodile leaned against the counter, smirking. “I think he took it pretty well.”

Mihawk nodded, picking up a new cup of coffee after the earlier spill. “Yes. He’s growing up. He needed to hear those things.”

Buggy reappeared, beaming. “You two did great!” He rose on tiptoe to kiss Mihawk’s cheek. “Want to practice what you just taught him in our room?”

Mihawk raised an amused eyebrow. “Subtle as always.”

Buggy giggled, leaping into Mihawk’s arms. Crocodile rolled his eyes but stepped forward, looping an arm around Buggy’s waist. “You’re incorrigible,” Mihawk murmured, tightening his hold as his lips brushed Buggy’s blue hair.

The kitchen, awash in golden light and laughter, rang with the warmth of an imperfect but loving family. Upstairs, Sabo talked to Koala on the phone, a goofy smile plastered on his face. For now, everything was perfect.

💜❣️💚💛

Chapter Text

The living room was bathed in soft light, the golden rays of the setting sun filtering through the burgundy velvet curtains. The mahogany furniture, inherited from a manor in West Blue, gleamed faintly under the orange glow. Mihawk was slouched in a leather armchair, a black leather-bound book open across his knees.

At the other end of the room, Vivi sprawled across the couch, her blue hair cascading in neat waves over a pink cushion. Her fingers flew over her phone screen, notifications chiming one after another. She wore a white crop top and denim shorts, her sandals abandoned on the floor. Her bright eyes were full of irritation, locked on the screen.

Without looking up from his book, Mihawk murmured, “You’re so addicted to that phone.”

Vivi giggled without lifting her gaze. “You just don’t get it, Dad. I have to keep up with all the gossip.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes—a rare gesture that made his hair shift lightly. “You’d do better to focus on your studies than on rumors.” He closed his book with a sharp snap and turned toward her. “Are you having problems at school?”

Vivi sighed dramatically, flicking a blue strand over her shoulder. “If you must know, Kalifa and Rebecca started plotting against me. They made up a story so my friends wouldn’t talk to me anymore. And in the middle of all this, there’s my girlfriend, you see? They said I cheated on her with another girl—but it’s not true! I found out because it was Kalifa and Rebecca who spread it. Nejiko warned me! She overheard them talking, and I’m super grateful. So now I’m explaining everything to my friends and my girlfriend. You get it, right? This is important! I have a social life—I’m not like you, Dad.”

Mihawk sighed, rising with feline grace. He approached Vivi, his boots clicking softly on the parquet. “Calm down. You shouldn’t dwell on what people say behind your back.” He placed a firm hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing the light fabric of her top. “Only what happens before your eyes really matters.”

Vivi crossed her arms, pouting. “Dad, you don’t get it! I could lose my girlfriend and my friends! Kalifa and Rebecca are such brats—you have to be on my side!”

Mihawk lifted one hand in a gesture of peace, his golden eyes softening. “I am on your side, Vivi. I don’t want you to lose your friends. But if they’re ready to turn against you over something you didn’t do, are they really the kind of friends you need?” His gaze was sharp but full of tenderness.

Vivi lowered her eyes, fiddling with her phone. “I guess they’re not real friends… I should stick with the ones who believe me. But I have to go see Nami.”

Mihawk frowned. “Nami? Why do you want to see Nami?”

Vivi rolled her eyes. “Dad! You haven’t been paying attention! Papou already knows.”

Mihawk snorted, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Of course Buggy knows. He lives for drama.”

Vivi kept gesturing wildly. “Nami’s my girlfriend! I told Nejiko, who told Uta, who told Perona, who told me, and then I told Papou! You were there with Daddy Croco!”

Mihawk rubbed the bridge of his nose, lost in the chain of names. “So, you and Nami are together now? I got that part. But why do you need to see her?”

Vivi huffed. “Don’t you understand? Nami got an anonymous message—from Kalifa and Rebecca, obviously—saying I cheated on her. But it’s not true! Nami takes everything seriously, you know? She’s with her sister Nejiko, who’s telling her I didn’t do it. But I’m not there to say it myself! How can she really believe me unless it comes from me?”

Mihawk finally nodded. “You want to explain to Nami what happened. What are you waiting for? Go see her.”

Vivi jumped to her feet, grabbing her bag. “I was going to! But I had to explain everything first because you’re always out of the loop.” She muttered as she hurried toward the door, her sandals slapping against the floor.

Mihawk turned toward the entrance just as Crocodile came in, his eyes sweeping the room and stopping on Mihawk. “You look completely out of fashion,” he said with a smirk.

Mihawk rolled his eyes again. “I just finished listening to Vivi complain about a fight between her friends. Teenagers…”

Crocodile leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. “You’ll get used to it. She told me about her problems last week—something about a girl calling her ugly without makeup, and… well, I didn’t really follow the rest.”

Mihawk sighed. “They always find something to argue about.”

A shrill scream cut through the air. “Perona! You’re banned!“ Buggy’s voice roared from upstairs, echoing through the house. Footsteps thundered, followed by a loud thunk—a shoe flying down the staircase.

Ace and Sabo bolted down the stairs, diving into the kitchen like fugitives. Zoro ran into the living room clutching a pillow to his chest. Luffy was last, bursting into the kitchen, laughing hysterically. The children were fleeing the upstairs chaos like it was a battlefield.

“You can’t tell me what to do!” shouted Perona, her pink pigtails bouncing furiously.

“I’m your father! You have to listen to me! Don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re seventeen!” Buggy bellowed.

A crash of breaking glass echoed, followed by a suspicious clack. Mihawk frowned and started up the stairs. “What’s happening now?”

Crocodile followed, narrowly dodging a flying hairbrush. “I’ll help you separate them,” he grumbled.

They climbed the steps two at a time. In the hallway, Perona—dressed in ghost-print pajamas—was facing off with Buggy.

“Do you realize what you did was unacceptable?!” Buggy shouted. “If your fathers find out, I won’t be the one to save your hide!”

Perona crossed her arms, glaring. “I just wanted to see a girl, okay?!”

“You disobeyed me! You snuck out, Perona! Something could have happened to you, and none of us would’ve known! All that just to impress a girl?!”

“You don’t get it! She’s in college—I have to look cool in front of her!”

Buggy pointed an accusatory finger. “Focus on your studies! You’re seventeen! What if someone dangerous had taken advantage of you? Just to impress an older girl?!”

Perona’s voice faltered. “Papou…”

“No, Papou nothing! Go clean your room, calm down, and you’re grounded until I say otherwise.”

Mihawk and Crocodile, standing in the doorway, exchanged a glance. Mihawk stepped forward, arms crossed. “You shouldn’t act like that, Perona. You’re young, but you have to think about your future, not just about impressing someone.”

Crocodile rubbed his face. “Buggy’s right. Focus on school.”

Perona stomped her foot. “Dad! Can’t you just leave me alone?!”

Buggy folded his arms, unyielding. “Your fathers won’t save you this time. Clean that room. Calm down. We’ll talk later.”

Perona sighed in defeat. “Fine…” She began picking up the scattered objects.

Mihawk turned to Buggy. “You did well to be firm.”

Crocodile nodded. “Perona needs structure.”

Buggy slumped against the wall, exhausted. “Where were you two?! I hate doing this! It’s your turn next time… Anyway, she’s just going through a phase. It’s normal. She’ll think it over and understand.”

They headed back downstairs. Mihawk sat on the couch, Crocodile beside Buggy. “It’s not normal for her to act out like this,” Mihawk said.

Crocodile crossed his arms. “She’s young, but old enough to know better.”

Buggy cuddled against Crocodile, his blue hair brushing the man’s chin. “I get it though… that urge to impress someone you love. I disobeyed my parents once just to see you, Croco. But I learned that if I talked honestly with them, they could understand—so long as I respected their limits.”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “You? Disobey?”

Crocodile chuckled. “Hard to picture you as rebellious.”

Buggy smiled wistfully. “We’ve all been teenagers. Sometimes we made the right choices, sometimes we didn’t. That’s how we learn—by making mistakes. Our parents were there to guide us, even when we wanted to handle things alone.”

Mihawk thought for a moment. “You’re right. We all made mistakes. And we grew from them.”

Crocodile nodded. “Our parents were strict, but they guided us.”

Buggy perked up. “Perona will learn… By the way, where’s Vivi?”

Mihawk replied, “She went to see Nami. She had some kind of problem with her friends.”

Crocodile added, “She wanted to clear things up. It matters to her.”

Buggy narrowed his eyes. “You do realize Nami isn’t just a friend, right?”

Mihawk raised a brow. “You mean they’re more than friends?”

Buggy burst out laughing. “I’m sure she told you! But you never understand half of what’s going on. Nami and Vivi are a couple! You practically pushed her into that girl’s bed… and I haven’t even given her the talk about lesbian sex yet!”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged an uneasy look.

“She did talk to us about it,” Mihawk began.

“But we didn’t realize they were actually together,” Crocodile finished.

Buggy sighed dramatically. “My loves, I adore you both—but sometimes, you’re so slow when it comes to teenage issues.”

Mihawk crossed his arms. “We’re not used to these things.”

Crocodile rubbed his neck. “We’re from another era…”

Buggy waved a hand dismissively. “She’ll text us when she’s back. That’s good enough for me.”

Crocodile stood. “She promised to keep us updated.”

Mihawk concluded, “I’ll make dinner. It’ll be ready when she returns.”

Buggy stretched, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. “Well, then I won’t worry.”

The house, despite the shouting and chaos, pulsed with warmth. Perona tidied her room, muttering under her breath. Somewhere in the city, Vivi was running toward Nami, her heart pounding. And in the living room, three imperfect but devoted fathers navigated the chaos of adolescence—one step at a time.

🔥🩷💜💖

Chapter Text

The living room was bathed in a warm twilight glow, the leather-shaded lamps casting golden halos across the Persian rugs. The air still carried the scent of dinner—a spicy stew Crocodile had prepared, laced with a hint of saffron from South Blue. Mihawk sat in his usual armchair, a glass of red wine in hand. Crocodile leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. Buggy, meanwhile, paced back and forth. He wore a garishly striped T-shirt and oversized pants, his bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor.

A shrill *ding* shattered the silence. Buggy snatched his phone, eyes widening. “Vivi’s sleeping at Nami’s!” he yelled, waving the device like a bomb. “She’s only sixteen! What’s she going to do there?! Have you called Nami’s mother? Is she okay with it? Are they sharing a bed? At that age, they have sexual desires! Oh no, my babies are growing up too fast!”

Mihawk set his glass down with a soft clink, trying to quell the storm. “Buggy, calm down. She just said she’s sleeping at Nami’s.”

Crocodile sighed, rubbing his face. “Buggy, teenagers do this kind of thing. They have the right to explore their sexuality on their own.”

Buggy collapsed onto the couch, theatrical, a hand pressed to his forehead. “Okay, everything’s fine, it’s nothing, it’s just their age… I don’t have to worry about my princess not wanting to marry me when she finds the love of her life.” His voice cracked, tears welling in his eyes.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, but Crocodile gently patted Buggy’s head. “Stop crying and calm down.”

Buggy sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. His attention suddenly shifted to a furtive movement near the door. Perona was trying to sneak out, a backpack slung over her shoulder. She wore a ghost-patterned sweatshirt and ripped jeans, her platform sneakers tapping softly.

Mihawk narrowed his eyes. “Oi, Perona. Where are you going?”

Perona froze, like a deer in headlights. Her eyes widened, and she forced an innocent smile. “I’m just… going to see a friend…”

Buggy leaped from the couch, pointing an accusing finger. “I already told you, Perona. You’re grounded for sneaking out. Stop trying to get that older girl’s attention. I’ve had enough for today!”

Perona grumbled, crossing her arms. “I’m a big girl now, I can handle myself!”

Buggy raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You might be a young woman, but you’re far from an adult, Perona. You’re only seventeen.”

Perona stomped her foot, her pigtails bouncing. “Then why does Vivi get to sleep with her girlfriend? Zoro even brought a boy home!”

Mihawk blinked, perplexed. “Wait, what? Zoro brought a boy home?”

Buggy turned to Mihawk and Crocodile, eyes wide. “Crocodile, Mihawk, deal with Perona. I’m going to have to kill someone after what I just heard.” He stormed off, muttering under his breath.

Crocodile nodded. “Yeah, we got it.”

Mihawk watched Buggy leave, a smirk tugging at his lips. “He takes things too much to heart.”

Perona crossed her arms, sulking. “I’m not a kid, you know. I can take care of myself!”

Mihawk stepped closer, his voice low and stern. “Maybe you could, if you stopped acting like a child and followed the rules we’ve set.”

Perona rolled her eyes. “You know, most teenagers get to do whatever they want!”

Crocodile stepped forward, his tone sharp. “But most teenagers don’t have three fathers like yours.” He sighed. “We just want what’s best for you, Perona. The rules are there for a reason.”

Perona flopped onto the couch, her pigtails spilling over her shoulders. “Yeah, but I’m sick of never being free. All I want is to hang out with my friends like other teenagers.”

Crocodile sat beside her, his violet eyes softening. “Tell us about this girl you like. The one in college?”

Perona perked up, her eyes sparkling with sudden passion. “Her name’s Ulti. She’s a second-year med student. She loves animals! She has long blue hair with pink streaks, and her eyes are pale pink with a hint of orange.” She sat up, gesturing wildly. “She’s perfect. She always wears white coats, even outside class, and she has a dinosaur tattoo on her shoulder!”

Mihawk and Crocodile listened, impressed by Perona’s enthusiasm. Mihawk nodded. “She sounds impressive.”

Perona’s gaze dropped, her voice trembling. “But Papu’s right… I snuck out to see her. I could’ve told you, but… she’s not even interested in me.” Tears welled in her eyes. “I thought I could get her attention, but it’s so hard… I was scared to ask Vivi for advice. I’m the big sister, I’m supposed to have more experience…”

Mihawk sighed, sitting on her other side. “You’re right. You should’ve talked to us instead of sneaking out. We could’ve helped if you’d asked.”

Perona sniffled. “It’s sometimes embarrassing to talk about with your dads… But I guess I can try. I’ll serve my punishment like Buggy said. I’m sorry for messing up.”

Crocodile crossed his arms, a faint smile on his lips. “That’s good. It happens. We all did it when we were young. But the rule’s clear: sneak out, and you’re grounded for a while.”

Perona nodded. “I get it, Dad.”

Mihawk placed a hand on her shoulder. “And next time, come to us if you have a problem, okay?”

“Okay.”

Mihawk smiled, his golden eyes glinting. “And Perona, don’t rush into love. You’re young, you have all the time in the world to find it.”

Perona blushed, her cheeks turning rosy. “Dad, you’re embarrassing me…” She bolted off the couch and dashed to her room, her pigtails bouncing behind her.

Mihawk rolled his eyes, a wry grin on his face. Crocodile smirked. “Teenagers. So easily flustered.”

---

Buggy stormed back into the living room, arms crossed, scowling. “Zoro brought a boy home?! I need to talk to that kid.” He collapsed onto the couch between Mihawk and Crocodile. “And Vivi sleeping at Nami’s… My babies are growing up too fast!”

Mihawk patted his shoulder. “Calm down, Buggy. Vivi promised to keep us posted.”

Crocodile nodded. “And we’ll deal with Zoro tomorrow.”

Buggy sighed, curling against Crocodile. “You’re too chill with them. I’m panicking!”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “You panic about everything.”

Crocodile wrapped an arm around Buggy. “Let them grow. They’ll always come back to us.”

The house, despite the shouting, the sneaking, and the heartbreak, hummed with a unique warmth. Perona tidied her room, muttering about Ulti. Vivi, at Nami’s, was probably laughing under the covers. Zoro, somewhere, was hiding a boy from his fathers’ eyes. And in the living room, three men navigated the chaos of adolescence, one step at a time, with love, patience, and a touch of exasperation.

💖🩷🩷❣️🩷❣️

Chapter Text

The late afternoon sun bathed the garden in an orange glow, making the water droplets on the freshly watered grass sparkle. The garden shed, a mishmash of planks and old curtains, stood at the back like a secret fort. Buggy, armed with a garden hose, was about to clean the tools when a high-pitched shout made him spin around.

“USOPP! RUN!”

Luffy, his black hair a mess and his t-shirt soaked, leaped out from behind the shed, chased by a relentless jet of water. A boy with curly hair and a long nose scrambled over the neighbor’s fence with monkey-like agility, vanishing into a bush. Buggy, hose still in hand, blinked in shock. He’d just seen his son kissing a kid named Usopp—tongues and all—before yelling for him to flee.

Mihawk, sitting on the terrace with a book, raised an eyebrow as the teenager scaled the fence. His golden eyes followed the scene with amused curiosity.

“What? Luffy has a boyfriend?”

Crocodile, leaning against the railing with a steaming cup of coffee, chuckled. “What a show!” He took a sip. “I never would’ve peged Luffy as having a boyfriend.”

Buggy dropped the hose, which writhed like an angry snake, spraying everything in its path. “Luffy! Where are you going?! Why was that boy practically shoving his tongue down your throat, huh?! Since when do teenagers kiss so obscenely?!” He ran after his son, arms flailing like propellers. “I’m too old for this!”

Luffy, drenched, laughed hysterically, his sandals slapping against the grass. “Papou, it’s just Usopp! Stop, you’re embarrassing me!”

Mihawk set his book down, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Come on, Buggy. I’m sure it was just an innocent kiss.”

Crocodile nodded, amused. “Teenagers are like that sometimes.”

Buggy spun around, pointing an accusatory finger. “Innocent? It looked like something I do to you, Croco!”

Luffy turned beet red, covering his face. “Dad, stop! You scared Usopp! He’ll never come back!”

Buggy crossed his arms, theatrical. “Good! How do you know Usopp isn’t a serial killer?!”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a glance, barely holding back laughter. Mihawk raised an eyebrow. “A serial killer. Come on, love, you always see the worst in everything.”

Buggy collapsed into a garden chair, hand over his heart. “I’m telling the doctors my anxiety’s getting worse! I’m gonna have a heart attack!”

Crocodile snorted, setting down his coffee. “Oh, for sure! You’ll be an old man dying of a heart attack before you’re fifty.”

“Shut up!” Buggy grabbed a bottle of pills from his pocket, swallowing one with a grunt.

Mihawk sighed, closing his book. “You’re always overreacting, Buggy.”

Crocodile took another sip of coffee. “You’re such a drama queen.”

Mihawk watched Buggy down his pills, exasperated. “You should learn to manage your stress better.”

Buggy threw his arms up. “I’ll stop worrying when I’m dead! And three days after, just to be sure!”

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “Very funny… but highly unlikely.”

Buggy slumped, head in his hands. “Seriously… I feel overwhelmed.”

Mihawk and Crocodile approached, wrapping him in a tender embrace. Mihawk murmured, reassuring, “Hey, calm down. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“No way!” Buggy groaned.

Crocodile sighed. “What are you complaining about now, Buggy?”

“Behind you.”

Mihawk and Crocodile turned. Two half-naked boys—one blond in boxers, the other tattooed in jeans—were stumbling out of Zoro’s room, rushing down the stairs. Zoro, his green hair a mess, followed, red as a tomato.

“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!” Mihawk barked.

Buggy’s screams echoed through the house. Mihawk and Crocodile grabbed the teenagers and dragged them to the living room, plopping them onto the couch. Mihawk crossed his arms, his golden eyes piercing. “Well, who are you, and how did you end up in Zoro’s room?”

The blond, with sleek hair and an unlit cigarette in his mouth, bowed politely. “Zoro’s dad, sorry we’re so… underdressed. Zoro was nervous about introducing us properly. I’m Vinsmoke Sanji, pleased to meet you.” He smacked the tattooed guy on the head. “This is Trafalgar D. Water Law.”

Law, with black hair and tribal tattoos on his arms, grunted and bowed. “Yeah.”

Sanji smiled, charming. “We’re Zoro’s two boyfriends. I hope this… inconvenience doesn’t make you judge us too harshly.”

Mihawk crossed his arms. “I see…”

Crocodile muttered, arms folded. “You shouldn’t have let them run out in the street dressed like that.”

Buggy grabbed Zoro’s ear, yanking it hard. “Don’t think you’re off the hook just because your dads are cool, Zoro! Not one, but *two* boys you’re bringing home?! That’s worse than Luffy making out with that Usopp kid in our garden!”

Zoro winced, leaning forward. “Got it!”

Buggy released his ear, pointing at Sanji and Law. “You two, spill your profiles.”

Sanji straightened, enthusiastic. “I’m Vinsmoke Sanji, sixteen, in Zoro’s class. Nice to meet you, Mr. Zoro’s Dad! I love Zoro!”

Law, stone-faced, added, “Law, twenty-one. Zoro’s a good boyfriend.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes, staring at Law. “Twenty-one… You’re a bit old for Zoro, aren’t you?”

Law shrugged, calm. “We’ve had sex. I thought Zoro had told you about us, since it’s not the first time we’ve been here. I’d never do anything to hurt Zoro or Sanji.”

Mihawk crossed his arms, wary. “You might be right, but you’re still older.”

Silence fell, heavy. Mihawk and Law locked eyes, the air tense like a blade about to strike. Crocodile watched, one eyebrow raised.

Buggy, against all odds, let out a raspy laugh. “I like it! It’s just like you, Hawky! We all need a grumpy stick-in-the-mud in our lives!”

Mihawk raised an eyebrow, thrown off. “I’m not *that* grumpy…” he muttered.

Buggy pointed at Zoro. “Zoro, you’re grounded. Blondie and the punk, get properly dressed. I don’t want to see you again unless me or my husbands are notified!”

Zoro grumbled. “You’re so annoying!”

Buggy tightened his grip on his ear. “You just extended your punishment!”

Zoro sighed, defeated. “Fine!”

Sanji stammered, standing. “Uh… Goodbye, Zoro’s dads.” He bolted for the door.

Law grabbed his hand, smirking. “Thanks for not murdering us.” They headed to the car parked out front.

Mihawk watched them leave, silent. Crocodile crossed his arms, thoughtful. Buggy finally let go of Zoro’s ear, sighing. “You shouldn’t have been surprised.”

Zoro, rubbing his ear, muttered, “So, what’s your impression of my boyfriends?”

Mihawk and Crocodile exchanged a look. Mihawk hesitated. “They’re… nice.”

Crocodile nodded. “Not too bothersome.”

Buggy clapped his hands. “They’re cool! Now, go to your room!”

Zoro sighed, trudging upstairs. “Yeah, I’m going…”

Mihawk sat back down, picking up his wine. “We take our role as good dads very seriously.”

Crocodile crossed his arms, smirking. “Yeah, we’re the best.”

The house, despite the stolen kisses, the escapes, and the yanked ears, buzzed with chaotic warmth. Luffy, somewhere, was laughing with Usopp on the phone. Zoro sulked in his room, dreaming of Sanji and Law. And in the living room, three exhausted but loving dads tackled adolescence, garden hose in hand.

🤍💛🧡💕

Chapter Text

Luffy was absentmindedly playing with his cereal. The little corn loops floated lazily in the milk, forming islands that the boy pushed around with the tip of his spoon as if he were commanding a fleet of pirate ships.

Crocodile raised an eyebrow at the sight. He pulled out a chair and sat down heavily, his hook clinking lightly against the table.

“Are you ever going to eat those, or is this just a new form of contemporary art?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his deep voice.

Luffy looked up, eyes shining. “Papa… Do you guys hate my boyfriend? I know I invited Usopp without asking, but… you accepted my brothers’ and sisters’ relationships. Why not mine?”

At the other end of the table, Mihawk, who was sipping his black coffee, raised a perfectly arched eyebrow. He set his cup down with deliberate slowness.

“Perhaps we were… too harsh,” he admitted at last.

“We thought it was just a passing crush,” Crocodile added with a shrug.

“Ow!” Buggy yelped as he received a discreet but firm elbow from Crocodile. He quickly recovered, cheeks flushed. “I mean… I’m sorry. Really. I shouldn’t have chased Usopp out like a stray dog. I didn’t want to play favorites. We could have… talked to him, like we did with Law and Sanji. Uh… Papa makes mistakes sometimes, but I’ve got nothing against him, okay!”

Mihawk crossed his arms, looking thoughtful. “We’re simply too protective of you, Luffy.

“For the record,” Luffy said, shoveling a spoonful of cereal into his mouth, “I haven’t put my tongue in Usopp’s mouth. We don’t like kissing with tongue.”

Buggy choked violently on his coffee. Brown droplets splattered across the tablecloth. “Ah—uh—you heard that… Well, that’s… that’s perfectly fine without tongue too, Luffy! Really! Just do whatever you and Usopp feel comfortable with, okay?”

Crocodile rolled his eyes. “Please stop choking on everything. You sound like a broken coffee maker.”

Mihawk sighed. “Anyway… Do whatever you want with Usopp.”

Luffy looked at them each in turn, eyes round as saucers. “Papa… is it true that it hurts? You know… making love. Zoro screams every time Law and Sanji come over. And the next day, he limps for two days straight.”

Buggy nearly choked a second time. “Please, someone else take this one!” he coughed, not nearly as subtly as he thought.

Mihawk and Crocodile froze. They exchanged an awkward glance, like two generals caught off guard on a battlefield they hadn’t prepared for.

“Uh… yes, it can be painful,” Mihawk began, his voice a touch higher than usual.

“How do I make sure I don’t hurt Usopp?” Luffy asked, genuinely worried. “I don’t want him screaming like Zoro. And definitely not limping.”

Buggy started muttering under his breath, eyes wide. “Oh my god, oh my god, Luffy is so precious… Zoro depraved… Luffy so pure… Zoro depraved…”

Mihawk shot him a glare. “Buggy, calm down.”

Crocodile cleared his throat, searching for words. “So here’s the thing… it hurts if you don’t lubricate properly…

“And above all,” Buggy jumped in, red as a tomato, “you have to be clean. You and your partner. Look up tutorials online—they’re… educational. Then, lube. Lots of lube. Even if you think it’s too much. Way too much. And condom, always, because cleaning up after… uh… ejaculation… in that spot… it’s complicated. Very complicated.”

Mihawk coughed into his fist, cheeks pink. “Indeed. Protecting yourself from diseases is important too.”

Luffy nodded enthusiastically, swallowing his last spoonful of cereal. “Thanks, Papa! I can reassure Usopp about a bunch of stuff now! Gotta go to school—see you later!”

He leapt from his chair, grabbed his bag, and bolted like an arrow. The front door slammed cheerfully behind him.

Mihawk and Crocodile stared at the empty chair, then at each other.

“Well… that went better than expected, right?” Crocodile exhaled, crossing his arms.

Buggy threw his arms up. “IT’S ALL ABOUT THE LUBE!” he shouted suddenly. “Wow, Buggy, you’re the role model! I’m a great dad!!!”

Crocodile snorted. “He still has a lot to learn about sex. Want to handle it when he gets back from school?

“Of course! That way I don’t have to,” Mihawk replied with a smirk. “Though Zoro really should stop screwing behind our backs with his punk and his blond.

“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do about that,” Crocodile sighed.

“Teenagers that age do whatever they want,” Mihawk added, smirking.

“When they start fucking all over the house, don’t come crying to me!” Buggy warned, waving his arms dramatically.

Mihawk rolled his eyes. “Young people love that… We were the same, once upon a time.”

Crocodile flashed a predatory grin. “Speaking of… the kids are at school, you know…”

Buggy batted his lashes, a mischievous smile on his lips. “Exactly.”

Mihawk and Crocodile shivered, understanding the hint perfectly.

“You haven’t changed,” Crocodile muttered, half-amused, half-resigned.

“Never,” Buggy purred. “So… who wants to pick up where we left off last night?”

***

Less than ten minutes later, clothes littered the bedroom floor like flags of surrender. Shirts, belts, expensive suit pants—everything flew off in joyful chaos. The three men were naked, skin burning, breaths already short.

They kissed with familiar urgency, tongues and teeth seeking each other like every time they had the house to themselves. Crocodile’s hands slid over Buggy’s hips while Mihawk traced lines of fire down his back with his nails.

They tumbled onto the king-size bed, Buggy in the middle—his favorite spot. The rumpled sheets still smelled of last night: expensive cologne, sweat, and sex.

“I want you,” Mihawk murmured against Buggy’s neck, his husky voice vibrating against the skin.

He moved lower, tongue circling a pale pink nipple that hardened instantly. Buggy moaned, arching his back.

“I want both of you,” he gasped, pulling them closer.

Crocodile growled, nipping his earlobe. “We’re going to make you scream with pleasure, darling.”

Mihawk’s long, elegant fingers were already finding their way, preparing Buggy with exquisite slowness. Crocodile wrapped a hand around Buggy’s erection, making him jolt with pleasure.

“A-ah yeah!” Buggy moaned, writhing between them.

Mihawk left a constellation of marks across his neck and chest—little purple souvenirs that would linger for days. His fingers moved in rhythm, opening, relaxing, seeking that exact spot that made Buggy see stars.

Crocodile licked along Buggy’s jaw, locking eyes with him. “You’re so pretty when you squirm like that.

“Go on, Buggy, scream our names,” Mihawk ordered in a low voice.

The rhythm sped up. Buggy trembled, lips parted, moans growing louder.

“A-ah yes—!”

Crocodile smiled, cruel and tender all at once. “Who do you belong to?

“You!” Buggy cried. “Papa—!”

“PAPA!”

Sabo’s cheerful voice echoed from downstairs.

Buggy shot upright, eyes wide. “Shit! One of the kids is back!”

Mihawk and Crocodile froze like statues. The silence that followed was almost comical.

“Papa! Classes ended early! Can I go to Koala’s? Where are you guys?”

Mihawk took a deep breath, trying to sound normal. “We’re upstairs!”

Buggy—still buck-naked—leapt out of bed and cracked the door just enough to poke his head out. “Here, Sabo! Take 50 bucks—go have fun with your girlfriend!”

A crumpled bill flew into the hallway.

“Uh… thanks, Papa! I’ll be back later!

“Yeah, you better be! Go now!”

Sabo’s footsteps raced away, followed by the slam of the front door.

Buggy gently closed the door, back against it, and burst into nervous laughter.

Mihawk sighed, letting his head fall back onto the pillow. “What a shame… we didn’t even get to finish.

“Can we try again tonight?” Crocodile asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mihawk nodded. Crocodile grinned, all teeth.

“Of course. We have the whole night ahead of us.”

Buggy crawled back to the bed, beaming. “And right now, we still have…” he glanced at the clock, “…forty-three minutes before Ace gets home from soccer.”

Mihawk grabbed his wrist and pulled him close. “Then not a second to waste.”

The sheets closed over them like a wave, and for a few more precious minutes, the house fell quiet… or almost.

❤️‍🔥💚💜🧡

Chapter Text

A Few Years Later

The September sun gilded the front of the house, painting warm reflections on the blue shutters and the potted geraniums that Buggy tended with almost obsessive care. In the gravel driveway, two brand-new suitcases—one red for Ace, one black with horn stickers for Yamato—waited by the car, already packed to bursting: books, blankets, posters of Marines, and even the old straw hat Luffy had lent Ace “for good luck.”

Ace was checking the trunk one last time. He wore a white tank top, cargo shorts, and his usual Nike sneakers. Beside him, Yamato—tall, broad-shouldered, with a long mane of black and white hair tied in a high ponytail—adjusted their open kimono over a “Wano University” T-shirt. Their bright grin betrayed barely contained excitement.

When they came back into the living room for their final goodbyes, the air felt… electric.

Buggy was pacing like a clown in too small an arena, running his hands through his hair, eyes glittering with tears he refused to shed. He was wearing an oversized hoodie that read “World’s Okayest Dad”—a gag gift from Perona—and striped sweatpants.

“Why am I happy and sad at the same time?” he wailed, his voice cracking. “Yamato, please, take care of Ace! And call us every day—no, twice a day! At least once, I’m begging you!”

Ace sighed, blushing, unsure if Buggy wanted to hug him or strangle him. “Yeah, Papou… I’ll call. Promise.”

Buggy sniffled loudly, brandishing his phone like a weapon. “We even got Instagram! Who’s the coolest now, huh? We can like your photos, comment with heart emojis—everything!”

Mihawk, sitting in his leather armchair with a book closed on his lap, raised an amused eyebrow. His golden eyes sparkled with rare tenderness. “And Discord. You can message us directly. I even created a family server.”

Ace covered his face with his hands. “Great… you guys are the coolest parents ever,” he groaned, muffled by embarrassment.

Buggy puffed out his chest proudly. “Snapchat next! Perona’s teaching Crocodile how to use it.” He turned toward Crocodile, who was sipping coffee on the couch, fur coat draped over his shoulders despite the heat. “Right, Croco?”

Crocodile chuckled into his cup. “She made me install BeReal yesterday. Still don’t understand why I have to take a picture at 2:37 p.m. sharp.”

Ace burst out laughing. “You know there are other social apps out there, right?”

Buggy waved a hand. “One thing at a time! I’m already in a WhatsApp group with your sisters. Look!” He opened his phone and played a cheesy TikTok sound: ‘Sigma Sigma Sigma Boy!’ Perona and Vivi, sitting on the stairs, howled with laughter and sang along.

Ace rolled his eyes, dying of secondhand embarrassment. “You’re like… four or five months late on that trend.”

Crocodile set his cup down, pragmatic as ever. “Let him dream. You got everything packed? Checked your suitcases?”

Ace nodded. “Yeah, Dad. Spent the whole afternoon making sure.”

Buggy suddenly vanished into the kitchen and returned holding a box of condoms like a trophy. “Wait, kids! I’ve got something for you.” He handed it dramatically to Ace. “University is for studying, but we all know—especially me and your fathers—that at your age, you might get a little… frisky. Be safe.”

Ace went bright red. He took the box like it was on fire, wishing the earth would swallow him whole. Mihawk looked away, mortified. Crocodile, on the other hand, let out a deep, cruelly amused laugh.

Yamato, perfectly calm, smiled and took the box from Ace. “Thanks, Buggy. We’ll use them responsibly.”

Ace squeaked. He shot a desperate look at Yamato, who winked in return. Perona screamed from the stairs, “I DIDN’T NEED TO HEAR THAT!” Vivi hid behind her phone, laughing so hard she snorted.

Buggy kept going, undeterred: “No drugs! No weekday parties! Studies first! And call us!”

Ace sighed but smiled softly. “Yeah, Dad. We’ll call.”

Buggy burst into tears and opened his arms wide. “Oh my baby! I miss you already! Don’t you wanna be little again? Daddy wants to keep you forever!”

Ace let himself be hugged, grumbling half-heartedly. “Dad… I can’t stay a kid forever. I’m an adult now. I’m going to university!”

Buggy stepped back, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His gaze turned suddenly serious, almost solemn. “You know… you and your brothers and sisters—you’re the best thing that ever happened to me. Adopting you was the best decision of my life. Before you, I only had my marriage… and my shows, of course.” He smiled, eyes shining. “I’m proud of you, Ace. You’ve got a great boyfriend, you’re going to college, you’re grown up. Mihawk and Crocodile will say the same: you’re going to do great things.”

Ace’s throat tightened. He looked down, eyes misty. “Thanks, Dad… I’ll do my best. Promise.”

Mihawk approached, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Take care of yourself.”

Crocodile added, gruff but warm, “And don’t be useless.”

Ace laughed through his tears. “Aaaahhh… love you too, dads.”

Outside, the whole family had gathered on the porch. Perona waved a “Bon Voyage, Bro!” flag decorated with pink ghosts. Vivi sobbed in Nami’s arms. Zoro stood with his arms crossed, pretending not to be emotional. Sabo filmed everything on his phone. Luffy shouted, “ACE! BRING ME CANDY FROM THE CAFETERIA!”

Buggy ran down the driveway, yelling at the top of his lungs, “We love you, Ace! Yamato, take care of my baby!” His voice echoed through the entire street.

Ace, mortified, sank into the passenger seat. “Dad, the whole neighborhood can hear you!” He gave a small wave through the window. “Don’t worry. I’m in good hands.”

Yamato honked cheerfully and drove off. The car rolled away slowly, leaving behind a mix of laughter, tears, and chaos.

Buggy stood in the middle of the street, arms hanging at his sides. The car turned the corner and disappeared. A wave of deep nostalgia washed over him. His eyes filled with shimmering tears.

Mihawk came up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. He’ll call soon.”

Buggy sniffled. “He’s the first to leave… but the others will follow. Perona, Vivi, Zoro, Sabo, Luffy… one day they’ll all be grown up too…”

Crocodile joined them, pulling the two into a solid embrace. “Harder than I expected…”

Buggy hiccupped. “I thought I’d only cry over tuition fees, not this… why is it so expensive, anyway?”

Mihawk smiled gently. “At least we still have each other.”

Crocodile kissed the top of Buggy’s head. “Always.”

Buggy blushed, feeling their lips on his skin. He clutched at their shirts, shivering slightly. “Let’s go back inside… the others still need us.”

Mihawk pulled him close. Crocodile wrapped an arm around his waist. “Yeah. Let’s enjoy it while they’re still here.”

Buggy looked up, eyes shining. “Mihawk, Crocodile… I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me—besides the kids.”

Mihawk brushed his lips over Buggy’s in a light kiss. “And you’re the best thing that ever happened to us, darling.”

Crocodile tightened his hold. “Without you, we’d just be two cranky old bastards.”

Buggy laughed through his tears. “And I’d just be a clown without a crowd.”

They walked back hand in hand, leaving behind the empty driveway and the departed suitcases. Inside, Luffy’s laughter was already echoing, Perona was yelling about missing makeup, and Vivi was still crying in Nami’s arms.

Life went on—loud, messy, perfect.

💛❣️💖🖤

Chapter Text

Pink and black suitcases were stacked beside Ulti’s little purple van. On the door, a “Dino Girl” sticker proudly sat next to another that read “Future Doctor.” The scent of Buggy’s geraniums still floated in the air, mingling with the aroma of coffee that Crocodile had just spilled on the porch after seeing Perona load her last box of plushies.

Buggy buzzed around the two young women like a bee around a honey pot, unable to keep still. His blue hair was a mess, his “World’s Okayest Dad” sweatshirt soaked with tears he kept wiping away with his sleeve.

“You’re sure you have everything you need for your apartment?” he repeated for the tenth time, his hands gripping Perona’s shoulders. “If you need anything, I’ll give it to you! I don’t mind! Are you sure it’s not going to be too much for you, Ulti, with your job and everything? You need a proper routine. And if you ever feel lonely, call us or come home right away!”

Ulti—tall, confident, with her long blue hair streaked pink and her ever-present leather jacket—smiled softly. Her pink-orange eyes gleamed with amusement at this panicking father.

“Everything’s great, Papa Buggy,” she said, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “The apartment’s perfect—just twenty minutes away. I’ll take care of Perona like she’s my own little sister. Promise.”

Buggy burst into tears and hugged her as if he’d never see her again. “Why do my babies grow up so fast?! My little princess is a woman now! What’s going to happen to me?!”

Ulti laughed, hugging him back. She was used to these emotional farewells—it had become a family tradition. “You know, you’re lucky. Not all dads are this devoted.”

Perona, her pink twin-tails perfectly styled, wearing a ghost-print hoodie and high-waisted jeans, rolled her eyes but smiled brightly. She tugged on Buggy’s sleeve. “Dad… everything’s going to be fine. We’ll only be twenty minutes away. Ulti will look after me, and university’s going to be awesome. We’ll come home some weekends if that helps.”

She hugged him tightly, and Buggy found himself sandwiched between his daughter and stepdaughter, sobbing loudly.

“Y-yeah… I guess I can stop worrying now…” he mumbled into Perona’s shoulder.

From the doorway, Crocodile leaned against the frame, one eyebrow raised, a fond smirk curling on his lips.
“You gonna call us too?” asked Mihawk, ruffling Perona’s hair, golden eyes glinting with hidden amusement.

“Dad! My hair…” Perona pouted, but didn’t pull away. Her face softened. She turned and hugged Mihawk tightly. “Of course I’ll call you. I’m so happy you brought me home that day… Before that, I had no one. You gave me a family. I have brothers, sisters, and three amazing dads who love me. It wasn’t always easy, but you always tried your best for me. Thank you. You’re the best dads in the world.”

Mihawk, usually so composed, felt his throat tighten. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, lips brushing her pink strands. “Don’t worry about us. We’ll always be here for you and your siblings. You’re an incredible girl, Perona.”

Tears glimmered in her eyes as she turned to Buggy, who still clung to her like a limpet. “Thank you for adopting me as your daughter, Dad.”

“And thank you for taking care of Perona, Dad,” added Ulti with a teasing grin.

Buggy let out an even louder wail. “MY STEPDAUGHTER CALLED ME DAD! OH MY GOD, I LOVE YOU BOTH SO MUCH!”

He grabbed them into a giant bear hug, crushing them both.

Ulti laughed. “Technically, I didn’t even live here!”

“YOU’LL STILL BE MISSED!” Buggy howled down the street.

Perona giggled through her tears. “We’re not even moving to another continent!”

Crocodile rubbed his temples, exasperated but touched. He wondered, not for the first time, how he’d ended up married to such an emotional wreck.

Ulti patted Buggy’s back. “You’ll see us on Instagram—stories, photos! We’re not far.”

Buggy looked up, eyes red. “Really? You’ll send me those funny pictures?”

“The stickers? The GIFs?” Perona smiled, wiping her tears. “Of course, Dad.”

Buggy sniffled. “Yeah… I have to admit, those little things are cute. Don’t ever deprive me of them!”

Mihawk cleared his throat awkwardly. “And… cat videos?”

Crocodile muttered under his breath, “Yeah… cat videos… those are cute too…”

Perona burst out laughing. “We’ll send lots of cat videos, promise!”

Buggy lit up like a Christmas tree. “PER-FECT! That’s perfect!”

Mihawk crossed his arms, pretending to sulk. “Really? That’s what makes you happy?”

Buggy pointed a dramatic finger at him. “You’re the one who asked for cat videos first! Don’t judge me!”

“I wasn’t that enthusiastic!” protested Mihawk.

Crocodile snorted. “Sure. Keep denying it.”

“I’m not in denial,” Mihawk grumbled, looking away.

Perona hugged Buggy one last time, then took Ulti’s hand. “We’re going, Dad. I promise: cat videos, GIFs, stickers, calls. I love you all!”

Buggy hugged her so tight she squeaked. “We love you too, sweethearts. Take care of yourselves…”

Crocodile added calmly, “And stay out of trouble. Call us if anything happens.”

Mihawk nodded silently, his chest heavy. He didn’t want to admit it, but watching Perona leave—just like Ace once had—hurt more than he expected.

The purple van started. Perona rolled the window down, waving. “See you soon!”

Buggy ran after the car for ten meters, yelling: “SEND ME CATS!”

The van turned the corner and disappeared.

Silence settled.

“They’re gone…” murmured Mihawk, watching the front door swing shut.

Buggy collapsed on the porch, head in his hands. Mihawk sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. Crocodile joined on the other side, his massive arm encircling Buggy.

“It’s normal to hurt,” murmured Crocodile. “You get used to it… slowly.”

Buggy sniffed. “I-I’m not crying…”

Mihawk leaned his forehead against Buggy’s. “We still have the others—Sabo, Luffy, Zoro, Vivi…”

At that moment, Buggy’s phone buzzed.

🩷 My Princess Perona 🩷 sent a sticker (a kitten giving a hug).

🩷 My Princess Perona 🩷 sent a video to the ✨Family✨ group chat.

🩷 My Princess Perona 🩷:
“Dad, I love you! I already miss you. See you soon. 🐱💕”

♠️ Ace ♠️ reacted with a ❤️.

Buggy stared at the screen, his tear-stained face breaking into a huge smile. He opened the video: a tiny orange kitten purring in Perona’s arms, with Ulti’s voice in the background saying, “Say hi to Daddy!”

“I can’t wait to see you again, sweetheart…” he typed quickly, his fingers trembling.

Crocodile smiled faintly. “Ace liked the message. Good to know our son still checks in sometimes.”

Mihawk suggested gently, “How about we all watch that cat video together?”

Buggy’s face lit up like fireworks. “YES! Let’s!”

They went back inside. Sabo appeared with a bowl of chips, Luffy jumped on the couch yelling “KITTYYYY!”, Zoro slumped into an armchair grumbling but stayed, and Vivi nestled against Mihawk with her phone.

The three fathers sat in the center of the couch, surrounded by their kids. The cat video played on repeat. Laughter filled the room. Buggy cried and laughed all at once.

The nest was slowly emptying… but as long as there were cat videos, stickers, calls, and hugs,
the house would always stay full of love.

💙❤️‍🔥💛

Chapter Text

Sabo was lying on the bed, back propped against the pillows, a tender smile on his lips as he scrolled through the family group chat on his phone. A new photo from Perona had just popped up: her and Ulti, arms linked in front of their tiny apartment, a ginger kitten in Perona’s arms winking at the camera. Underneath, the message read:

🩷 **MA Princesse Perona** 🩷:
« We’re all settled in! The cat’s name is Ghost. Dad, are you crying yet? 😿💕 »

Sabo sent a little heart, then noticed Ace had already liked it and replied with a string of flame emojis. His smile widened. Ace, ever reliable, posted regularly—selfies pretending to study, sneaky shots of Yamato cooking shirtless, or hilarious rants about the university cafeteria (« The rice tastes like wet cardboard, I’m surviving on love »).

He was pulled from his thoughts by two warm hands settling on his bare shoulders. Koala, wearing only one of his oversized tank tops and a pair of blue lace panties, leaned over his shoulder, her messy red hair cascading like a fiery waterfall across his skin.

« Any news from your siblings? » she murmured, her voice soft against his ear.

Sabo set the phone on the nightstand, quickly sending one last heart to Perona. « Yeah… Dad’s worrying even more now that we’ve all moved out. He still sends reminders to eat three meals a day, like we’re still in middle school. »

Koala laughed softly, her lips brushing the sensitive spot behind his ear. « I think it’s absolutely adorable. Your dads are… one of a kind. »

She climbed onto the bed, straddling his hips with familiar ease. Sabo let out a low, rough sigh, his hands instantly finding her bare thighs. He kneaded the soft flesh, savoring the warmth of her skin against his palms. His fingers slowly traced up her spine, tangling in her short, fiery hair, tugging gently at the rebellious strands.

Koala tilted her head, capturing his lips in a deep, languid kiss. Their tongues met, danced, explored. Soft, wet sounds filled the room, punctuated by ragged breaths and muffled giggles. Sabo gently eased Koala onto the plush mattress, his forearms bracketing her head. She was breathtaking beneath him: cheeks flushed, blue eyes gleaming with desire, lips swollen from their kisses.

He trailed downward slowly, pressing burning kisses along her throat, her collarbone, down to her full breasts. His tongue flicked over an already-hardened nipple, teasing it with expert tenderness. Koala moaned, arching her back, her fingers digging into his blond hair. He took his time, worshiping every inch of skin—light nips where his teeth grazed, wet kisses where his tongue lingered.

His hands slid lower, gently parting her thighs. Koala was already trembling, her breath coming in short gasps. Sabo brushed his fingers over her core, feeling the heat, the slickness. He parted her folds delicately, circling her swollen clit with deliberate slowness. Koala arched, hips lifting instinctively, seeking more friction.

« Sabo… » she whimpered, voice husky.

He surged back up to claim her lips again, tasting her strawberry gloss, while his fingers continued their work. Two slipped inside her, curling in the rhythm she loved. Koala gasped against his mouth, nails lightly scratching his back. She was soaked, burning, ready.

Sabo withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean with a wicked grin. Koala flushed crimson, but her eyes burned with raw need. He grabbed a condom from the nightstand, rolling it on swiftly under her watchful gaze. Their fingers intertwined, his larger hands enveloping hers with infinite tenderness.

He positioned himself, rubbing against her first, making her shiver. Then, slowly, he pushed inside. Koala let out a long, satisfied sigh, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Sabo groaned—the tight, wet heat of her driving him wild.

They found their rhythm effortlessly, as always. Slow, deep thrusts at first, then faster, more urgent. Koala’s clit rubbed against him with every movement, making her tremble. Their bodies slapped together, sweat beading on their skin, sheets twisting beneath them. Sabo saw nothing but her: Koala, his Koala, so beautiful, so alive, so completely his.

She cried his name, her body clenching hard around him as her orgasm crashed over her like a tidal wave. Her nails raked his back, legs shaking. Sabo kept going, frantic now, chasing his own release. A few more thrusts and he buried himself deep, coming with a choked gasp, body shuddering with aftershocks.

They stayed like that for a long moment—breathless, tangled, hearts pounding in sync. Sabo pulled out gently, discarding the condom before sliding back beside her. Koala curled into his arms, head on his chest, listening to his racing heartbeat.

« I love you, » she whispered, tracing lazy circles on his skin.

Sabo kissed the top of her head. « I love you more. »

His phone buzzed again on the nightstand. He glanced over:

🩷 **MA Princesse Perona** 🩷:
« Ghost is purring on my pillow. Dad, you sent the same message three times. 😸💕 »

♠️ **Ace** ♠️: « 😂😂😂 »

Sabo chuckled softly, setting the phone back down. His dads could wait. Right now, there was only Koala—the warmth of her body against his, the simple joy of being together.

He tightened his arms around her, closing his eyes.
Yeah, the family could wait five minutes.

🖤💙💛🧡

Chapter Text

The old university building smelled of dusty paper and polished wood, its corridors echoing with the distant slam of lockers and the muffled chatter of students rushing to their next class. The bell had rung five minutes ago, signaling the start of afternoon lectures, but Luffy didn’t care. He grabbed Usopp’s hand—long, calloused fingers intertwining with his own—and pulled him through the emptying halls with that unstoppable grin plastered across his face.

“Luffy, wait—!” Usopp hissed, cheeks already burning. “We’re gonna be late!”

“No one’ll notice,” Luffy laughed, voice bright and carefree. “Besides, Akainu-sensei’s class isn’t till fourth period. We’ve got time.”

Usopp opened his mouth to protest, but the way Luffy’s dark eyes sparkled—full of mischief and something warmer, deeper—made the words die in his throat. He sighed, defeated. “Fine. Just… because it’s you.”

Luffy’s grin widened. Victory.

They darted up the creaking staircase to the third floor, past faded bulletin boards and sun-bleached posters for clubs that no longer existed. The old library wing was deserted this time of day, its heavy oak doors slightly ajar. Luffy pushed them open with his shoulder, tugging Usopp inside.

The air was cooler here, thick with the scent of ancient books and faint traces of ink. Sunlight filtered through tall, dusty windows, casting golden beams across rows of forgotten shelves. Luffy didn’t waste a second. He spun Usopp around, backing him gently against a towering bookcase filled with leather-bound volumes no one had touched in decades.

“Luffy—” Usopp started, but the rest was swallowed by a kiss.

Luffy kissed like he did everything else: with his whole body, whole heart, no hesitation. His hands cupped Usopp’s face, thumbs brushing over sharp cheekbones as their lips met—soft at first, then hungry. Usopp melted into it, one hand sliding into Luffy’s messy black hair, the other clutching the back of his red hoodie like it was the only thing keeping him anchored.

They stumbled deeper into the stacks, hidden behind a wall of dusty tomes. No one would find them here. The thought sent a thrill racing down Usopp’s spine.

Luffy’s hands slipped under Usopp’s shirt, palms warm against his skin. Usopp shivered, breath hitching as Luffy’s fingers traced the line of his waistband. Their kisses grew messier—teeth grazing lips, tongues sliding together, soft gasps muffled against each other’s mouths.

“Shh,” Luffy whispered, grinning against Usopp’s jaw. “Don’t want the ghosts to hear.”

Usopp would’ve laughed if Luffy hadn’t chosen that moment to press their hips together. The friction made them both groan—low, needy sounds that echoed faintly in the quiet library.

Luffy’s hand slipped between them, deft fingers undoing buttons and zippers with practiced ease. Usopp’s head fell back against the shelf, a soft thud as books shifted behind him. Cool wood pressed into his spine; warm Luffy pressed into his front. Perfect contrast.

When Luffy wrapped his hand around both of them, Usopp nearly sobbed. The first stroke was slow, deliberate—torturous. The second was firmer, and Usopp’s knees buckled. Luffy caught him, chuckling breathlessly against his neck.

“Easy,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of Usopp’s ear. “I’ve got you.”

Usopp couldn’t speak. Could barely think. All he could do was feel—Luffy’s hand moving in steady, perfect rhythm; the slick heat of their bodies sliding together; the way Luffy’s breath hitched every time Usopp’s hips jerked forward. His fingers dug into Luffy’s shoulders, anchoring himself as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in his gut.

“L-Luffy—” he managed, voice cracking.

“I know,” Luffy whispered. “Me too.”

They moved faster now, desperate and silent except for the soft, wet sounds of skin on skin and the occasional muffled whimper. Usopp’s head tipped back again, eyes squeezed shut, mouth open in a silent cry as the pressure finally snapped. He came hard, spilling over Luffy’s hand, body shaking with the force of it.

Luffy followed seconds later, burying his face in Usopp’s neck to muffle his own groan. They clung to each other, trembling, riding out the aftershocks until the world stopped spinning.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their breathing—ragged, slowing—and the faint rustle of pages as a book slipped from the shelf and thumped to the floor.

Luffy was the first to move. He pulled back just enough to grin, lazy and satisfied, pressing a soft kiss to Usopp’s swollen lips. “Told you we had time.”

Usopp laughed weakly, forehead resting against Luffy’s. “You’re gonna get us expelled.”

“Worth it,” Luffy said simply.

They cleaned up quickly—tissues from Usopp’s backpack, a few awkward giggles, clothes tugged back into place. Luffy wiped his hand on an ancient-looking copy of *Naval History Monthly* with zero remorse. Usopp swatted him, mortified, but couldn’t stop smiling.

Hand in hand again, they slipped out of the library and jogged down the hallway, footsteps echoing in the now truly empty corridor. The clock on the wall read 14:27. Still twenty minutes until Akainu’s lecture.

“Race you!” Luffy yelled, already sprinting.

“You’re such a kid!” Usopp shouted after him, but he was laughing as he ran—hair wild, lips tingling, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with being late.

They burst into the lecture hall just as the professor turned to write on the board. A few heads turned. Akainu’s sharp eyes narrowed, but Luffy just flashed his brightest, most innocent grin and dragged Usopp to the back row.

Under the desk, their fingers stayed linked.

Studies were important, sure.
But some things?
Some things were even more important.

🖤❤️‍🔥❤️

Chapter Text

Nami pushed open the door of their tiny apartment, arms full of two heavy shopping bags that rustled with every step. The late-afternoon sun spilled through the open window, casting golden stripes across the hardwood floor and the mismatched furniture they’d collected over the past few weeks: a second-hand orange couch, a shelf overflowing with nautical charts and Vivi’s law textbooks, a tiny cactus Perona had given them as a housewarming gift. The air smelled faintly of tangerine candles and the sea-salt breeze that always seemed to follow Nami home.

She dropped the bags on the coffee table with a soft thud.
“Can I ask what you’re doing, Princess?”

Vivi was curled up on the couch, knees tucked beneath her, phone balanced precariously on one thigh. At the sound of Nami’s voice she startled, nearly knocking the device to the floor, then quickly turned the screen toward her girlfriend like a child caught sneaking cookies.

“I was just… talking to my dads,” she admitted, cheeks warming. “Telling them I’m okay, classes are fine, the usual stuff…”

Nami arched a brow, setting a bag upright so the oranges wouldn’t roll out. “Did you tell them we officially live together now?”

Vivi bit her lip and shook her head, blue hair slipping over her shoulder. “Not yet. I’d rather wait a little longer. You know how they get.”

Nami crossed the room, hips swaying with that effortless confidence that always made Vivi’s heart skip. She knelt in front of the couch, resting her chin on Vivi’s knee. “Listen, I know Buggy can be… intense. And yes, he’s probably crying into his striped pajamas right now because all his babies are gone. Mihawk and Crocodile send you good-morning texts every single day. But they’re not going to freak out about us. Didn’t you tell me your siblings are all shacked up with their partners too?”

Vivi sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. “They are. Ace and Yamato have their own place. Perona and Ulti just moved in together. Even Sabo and Koala… everyone’s doing it.” She looked down at her lap. “I just… I’m not ready for the flood of questions yet.”

Nami’s smile softened. She reached up, brushing Vivi’s bangs from her eyes. “My princess, I totally get it. They already know we’re together. Telling them we share an apartment isn’t exactly breaking news. But if you keep it secret too long, they might feel hurt that you didn’t trust them with something so happy.”

Vivi closed her eyes, letting Nami’s words settle. After a moment, she nodded. “You’re right. Okay. I’ll tell them.”

“Perfect.” Nami stood, offering her hand. “Let’s take a cute photo in the bedroom—something cozy. You’ll just send it to the family group. Easy.”

Vivi’s face lit up. “Yes! Brilliant idea!” She grabbed Nami’s hand and practically dragged her down the short hallway.

Their bedroom was a soft explosion of color: tangerine sheets, sea-foam pillows, fairy lights strung above the headboard, and a world map pinned to the wall with little heart-shaped pins marking every place they wanted to visit together. Vivi gently pushed Nami onto the bed, crawling after her with a playful grin. She propped her phone against a stack of books on the nightstand, set the timer, then flopped down beside her girlfriend.

Nami immediately wrapped her arms around Vivi’s neck, pulling her close. “Come here, Princess.”

Vivi leaned in to press the shutter button—click—but Nami had other plans. She tilted her head and brushed her lips along Vivi’s neck, just below her ear. Vivi shivered, a delighted giggle escaping as the camera flashed. The photo captured them perfectly: Nami’s mischievous smile, Vivi’s flushed cheeks, hair spilling across the pillow like ink, arms tangled together, eyes shining with that quiet, radiant happiness that only existed when they were alone.

Vivi snatched the phone, zooming in. “It’s adorable. They’re going to love it.”

Nami peeked over her shoulder, resting her chin on Vivi’s collarbone. “Told you. Look at us—ridiculously in love.”

Vivi’s fingers flew across the screen.

💜 **Vivi** 💜 added a photo to ✨**Famille**✨
« Surprise! Nami and I officially live together now! 🏠💕 Thank you for letting us grow at our own pace. Love you all so much. »

She hit send, heart pounding.

The reactions came almost instantly.

🩷 **Buggy** 🩷:
« MY BABIES HAVE THEIR OWN LOVE NEST!!!! 😭😭😭💖💖💖 I’M NOT READY BUT I’M SO HAPPY!!! »

♠️ **Ace** ♠️:
« Finally! I bet the place smells like oranges and freedom 😂🔥 »

🩷 **Perona** 🩷:
« OMG YOU TWO ARE TOO CUTE!!! Ghost approves 🐱✨ »

🦁 **Crocodile** 🦁:
« Take care of each other. And invite us for tea sometime. »

⚔️ **Mihawk** ⚔️:
« Congratulations. The door is always open if you need anything. »

Vivi’s eyes welled up as she read. She set the phone face-down on the nightstand and turned back to Nami, who was watching her with the softest smile.

“See?” Nami whispered, brushing a tear from Vivi’s cheek with her thumb. “Told you it would be fine. Now… how about we celebrate our new place properly?”

Vivi laughed through happy tears, wrapping her arms around Nami’s waist and pulling her down onto the pillows. “Yes, please. That’s my favorite part.”

Nami rolled them over so she was on top, hair cascading like a copper curtain around them. “Then let’s make this apartment officially ours, Princess.”

Outside, the sun dipped lower, painting the room in warm amber. Inside, two girls tangled together under fairy lights, laughing between kisses, whispering promises against each other’s skin. The world could wait. For now, they had their little home, their little universe, and all the time in the world to fill it with love.

💜💚🩷

Chapter Text

The soft glow of the laptop screen lit up the living room of the old house, casting warm shadows across the Persian rugs and the leather armchair where Mihawk usually read. It was late evening in Belgium, but early afternoon in the bustling city where Zoro, Sanji, and Law now lived for their exchange program. The weekly video call had become a ritual, one that had started as Buggy’s desperate attempt to “see his babies every day” and had quietly turned into something the whole family looked forward to.

Buggy was already perched on the edge of the couch, hair freshly dyed electric blue, wearing his favorite striped sweater. Crocodile lounged beside him, one arm draped over the backrest, a glass of red wine in his other hand. Mihawk sat in his armchair, legs crossed, a rare softness in his golden eyes as the connection finally stabilized.

Three familiar faces appeared on screen.

Sanji waved enthusiastically, blond bangs falling into his eyes. “Hi, dads! We miss you!”

Law gave a small nod, arms folded, the faint outline of a new tattoo peeking from under his sleeve. And Zoro—green hair a little longer, cheeks flushed from the autumn wind—sat in the middle, trying (and failing) to look annoyed.

Buggy didn’t even wait for pleasantries.
“Zoro! Did you do your laundry properly this time?” he blurted, leaning so close to the camera his nose took up half the screen. “Don’t let Sanji do everything for you! Your boyfriend must be exhausted. And Law—please tell me you’re making sure he actually studies and doesn’t just nap on the rooftop again.”

Zoro pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing dramatically. “Yes, Papa. I did my laundry. I’m managing. Stop worrying every five seconds.”

Sanji laughed, bright and warm. “Don’t worry, Monsieur Dracule. Law and I are taking good care of our moss-head.” He leaned sideways, resting his chin on Zoro’s shoulder. “Yesterday we went to this tiny restaurant by the canal. Paper lanterns, candles, the works. Super romantic.”

“The food was decent,” Zoro muttered.

“I liked it,” Law added calmly, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

Mihawk’s eyebrow arched. Crocodile smirked into his wine glass. Buggy’s eyes practically sparkled.

“Romantic dinner for three?” Crocodile teased. “Look at you, raising a proper gentleman.”

Zoro’s ears turned pink. “It wasn’t—”

“Shh,” Sanji interrupted, patting Zoro’s head like he was a grumpy cat. “We’re keeping him in line.”

Zoro swatted the hand away half-heartedly. “I don’t need babysitting.”

Law’s low chuckle rumbled through the speakers. “You kind of do.”

Mihawk leaned forward slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Law, if he becomes too much trouble, you have my permission to tie him to a chair until exams are over.”

“Hey!” Zoro protested.

Law’s lips curved into a rare, genuine smile. “Noted. I’ll let you know if it comes to that.”

Buggy clapped his hands together. “That’s my boys! Teamwork!” He paused, then gasped dramatically. “Wait—did you just call me Monsieur Dracule again, Sanji? Call me Papa, come on!”

Sanji’s smile softened. “Of course, Papa.”

Zoro groaned, but the tips of his ears were still red.

Crocodile set his glass down. “Zoro. Studies?”

“I’m top of the kendo elective,” Zoro grumbled. “And passing everything else. Happy?”

“Very,” Crocodile said, pride warm in his voice.

A soft *ding* came from Buggy’s phone. He glanced down, then squealed. “Screenshot! You’re all so cute! Perona taught me how to make albums—look, this one’s called ‘My Babies Being Adorably Domestic’!”

Zoro’s eyes widened in horror. “You did NOT just screenshot that.”

“Already saved!” Buggy sang, waving the phone triumphantly. “I have seventeen albums now!”

“Seventeen?!” Zoro, Sanji, and Law said in unison.

Mihawk actually laughed—a low, velvet sound that made Crocodile’s smirk widen.

“Delete it,” Zoro demanded, face flaming.

“Never!” Buggy declared. “You’ll always be my little boy, Zoro. Even when you’re old and gray and still getting lost in supermarkets.”

Zoro opened his mouth, closed it, then reached forward and ended the call with a decisive click.

The screen went black.

Silence for half a second.

Then Mihawk and Crocodile burst out laughing. Buggy clutched his phone to his chest, tears of joy in his eyes.

“He hung up on me!” Buggy wailed, but he was grinning. “My baby hung up because he’s embarrassed! That means he loves us!”

Mihawk wiped a tear from the corner of his eye—whether from laughter or something softer, no one could tell. “He’ll never admit it, but he looks forward to these calls more than any of us.”

Crocodile leaned over, pressing a kiss to Buggy’s temple. “He’ll call back in five minutes pretending he ‘accidentally’ disconnected.”

Sure enough, the laptop chimed again. Zoro’s name flashed on screen. When the video reconnected, he was alone this time, sitting on what looked like the apartment’s tiny balcony, city lights twinkling behind him.

“…Next week, same time,” he muttered, refusing to meet the camera. “And delete the screenshot.”

Buggy gasped theatrically. “Never! It’s going in the Christmas card!”

Zoro’s scowl softened—just a fraction. “Love you idiots,” he mumbled, so quietly they almost missed it.

Then he hung up again.

Buggy squealed, kicking his feet like a teenager. Crocodile pulled him into a side hug, chuckling. Mihawk simply smiled, the kind of smile that reached his eyes and stayed there long after the screen went dark.

In the group chat ✨**Famille**✨, a new message appeared:

⚔️ **Zoro** ⚔️:
« Same time next week. Don’t be late. »

Followed immediately by:

🩷 **Buggy** 🩷:
« MY BABY SAID HE LOVES US!!!! 💖💖💖💖 »

♠️ **Ace** ♠️: « lmao he’s never living this down »

🩷 **Perona** 🩷: « sending embarrassing childhood photos in 3…2… »

⚔️ **Zoro** ⚔️ left the chat
⚔️ **Zoro** ⚔️ rejoined the chat
⚔️ **Zoro** ⚔️: « try it and die »

The house filled with laughter again.
No matter how far they went, no matter how big they grew, Sunday video calls would always bring them home.

💚💖💙

Chapter Text

The living room was bathed in soft twilight, lit only by the Christmas garlands Buggy had forgotten to take down since last year and the warm orange glow of the fireplace crackling gently. The scent of burning wood mingled with the bergamot tea Crocodile had brewed earlier. The three men were curled up on the large sofa, wrapped in a circus-patterned blanket Buggy had chosen “because it felt like home.”

A peaceful silence had settled, broken only by the soft ticking of the clock and the whisper of wind against the windows.

Mihawk was the first to move. He slowly rested his head against Crocodile’s broad shoulder, his long black hair sliding like silk over the fur of Crocodile’s coat. Without a word, Crocodile wrapped an arm around Buggy and pulled him close. Buggy let out a deep, heartfelt sigh and melted between the two men he loved more than anything.

His gaze drifted to the dark TV screen, where faint reflections of the day’s video calls still lingered: Zoro grumbling, Sanji laughing, Law rolling his eyes, Perona showing off her cat, Ace sending flame emojis… All those precious moments, those fragments of life that continued despite the distance.

Mihawk broke the silence with a soft chuckle.
“For so many years, we had all our kids around us…” he murmured, his voice gentler than ever. “It’s going to be strange, just the three of us now.”

Crocodile nodded slowly, pressing a tender kiss to Buggy’s forehead.
“My love, it’s normal. Kids don’t stay forever. They all leave the nest eventually.”

Buggy closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the two bodies beside him envelop him like a blanket.
“I know…” he whispered. “It’s just… I got used to hearing them running down the stairs, fighting over the remote, leaving socks everywhere… I even miss the arguments.”

Mihawk smiled—a real, rare, radiant smile.
“I understand perfectly, my heart.” He turned to kiss Buggy’s temple. “But they’ve grown up. They have their own lives, their loves, their apartments that smell like oranges, cat fur, or Sanji’s cigarettes… And we still have so much to live for together.”

Buggy nestled closer, slipping one hand into Mihawk’s and the other into Crocodile’s.
“You’re right…” he murmured. “But the house is so quiet now. Sometimes I swear I can still hear Luffy yelling “MEAT!” in the kitchen at 3 a.m.”

Crocodile chuckled, a warm rumble in his chest.
“We’ll get used to it. And they’ll be back for Christmas. You’ll see—the house will be chaos again in five minutes flat.”

Buggy laughed, eyes shining.
“I can’t wait. I already ordered three whole hams and enough garlands to decorate a pirate ship.”

Mihawk rolled his eyes, but his smile never faded.
“You’re turning the living room into a circus again?”

“Obviously!” Buggy said proudly. “It’s tradition!”

Another silence, lighter this time. Crocodile tightened his hold, his thumb tracing lazy circles on Buggy’s shoulder.

“You know…” Buggy said softly, almost shyly. “Sometimes I think about everything we’ve been through. All those kids we pulled out of misery, brought home, sometimes without even discussing it first… We moved three times, renovated this old wreck, survived teenage crises, heartbreak, 2 a.m. fights… And I don’t regret a single second.”

He turned to look at Crocodile, then Mihawk, eyes glistening with emotion.
“You were always there. Every time it got too heavy, every time I doubted myself, you were there. And I don’t say it often enough… but I love you. More than anything.”

Crocodile pressed a slow, deep kiss to his forehead.
“You don’t need to say it every day, my love. We know. You gave a family to so many lost kids. You gave us a family. And we love you for it. For everything.”

Mihawk, rarely so open, leaned down to kiss Buggy’s stomach, just above his waistband.
“You’re our light,” he murmured against his skin. “Without you, we’d just be two lonely old pirates. You turned this house into a home. You made us a family.”

Buggy felt tears well up, but this time they were tears of joy.
“You’re the best decision I ever made,” he whispered. “Marrying you both… it’s the most beautiful thing life ever gave me. Without you, I’d just be a wandering clown. With you… I have everything.”

Crocodile pulled them both into his arms, enveloping them in a massive, protective embrace.
“You’re the sun in our universe,” he growled tenderly. “And we love you. Forever.”

“Forever,” Mihawk repeated, pressing another kiss to Buggy’s jaw.

“Forever,” Buggy replied, voice trembling with emotion.

They stayed like that for a long time, curled up together, the fire crackling softly. Outside, snow began to fall, blanketing the garden in silent white. Inside, three hearts beat as one, stronger than ever.

The house was quieter, yes.
But it had never been so full of love.

The End.

💚💖💙