One Piece Oneshots

The mid-afternoon sun glinted off the polished hulls of newly repaired ships as you walked beside Iceberg, Galley-La's boss and a man known for his quiet strength and sharp intuition. The scent of salt and freshly cut lumber hung in the air, mingling with the faint clang of tools echoing from the nearby workshops. Iceberg had a habit of strolling through Dock One at least once a day, not only to escape the never-ending paperwork piling up in his office but also to feel the pulse of the shipyard. He liked to see his team in action, hear the hum of productivity, and remind himself why he trusted the people under his command so implicitly. It was nice to take a break every once and a while and he couldn't deny the fact that there was one person he truly enjoyed spending his free time with and that was you.

Today, you filled the air with one of your stories—a colorful recount of a barge job gone awry, where impatient clients had pushed your team too far. You animated your words with exaggerated gestures, making Iceberg chuckle softly under his breath as he watched you speak. His smile could never falter as he watched you, enjoying every bit of your story as you told it.

"They were lucky Paulie didn't string them up with one of his ropes. The guy was red in the face when that merchant called him a con artist. Can you imagine? A con artist!" You chuckled, shaking your head at the absurdity of it. 

"Paulie was ready to turn the whole job into a bonfire. You should've seen how pissed off he got—veins popping out of his neck and everything I swear." A laugh escaped your lips as you spoke, the memory as vivid as if it had happened yesterday. You could still see Paulie gripping the length of rope so tightly it seemed like it might snap from the pressure. The merchant, a pompous man with a gold-plated cane and a perpetual sneer, had accused your crew of overcharging, completely ignoring the shoddy condition his ship had been in when it arrived. It was an absurd remark entirely which only made Paulie even more angry since he thought he did a great job on the ship in the first place.

"He kept yelling, something about how 'no reputable craftsman would charge so much.' Meanwhile, the ship had holes big enough to row through," you continued, mimicking the merchant's indignant tone and exaggerated gestures. Iceberg's lips quirked into a smile, his usual reserved demeanor giving way to the amusement he found in your storytelling. He leaned slightly against the stack of lumber beside him, his attention fully on you as you painted the scene. Your gloved hand reached up to wipe away a fake tear, unknowingly smudging a bit of oil onto your cheek, though you didn't seem to notice—or care.

"And what about you? Did you manage to keep the peace while Paulie was about to rip his head off?" Iceberg asked, his tone light but curious, one brow raised in question.

"Me?" You scoffed, feigning disbelief as you nudged a stray plank of wood with your boot. 

"Oh, I handled it. Told them they could either pay up or watch us dismantle their barge in record time. Funny how fast they decided to settle up once I mentioned the word 'dismantle' to their gorgeous ship that they love so much" You grinned, a flicker of mischief in your eyes that only seemed to make him smile wider.

"Guess they didn't want their precious ship turned into kindling after a hard day's work." Iceberg hummed in quiet approval, his arms crossed loosely as he listened. He had always appreciated your knack for diffusing tense situations, whether with sharp wit or sharper resolve. You always seemed to know what to do, he liked your independence and couldn't deny how attractive you looked when you took charge.

"You have a way with people," he said, his voice carrying a trace of admiration as his eyes traced over your figure.

"Well, someone has to keep things running smoothly around here," you replied with a mock-serious tone, straightening your posture and pretending to adjust an invisible tie.