Wildcard ( One Piece Fanfiction x Reader)

Chapter 42

Scattered over all the seas, yelled people "WHAT?!?" when they opened the morning paper. You sneezed exactly 17 times. As you would later find out, a beautiful picture of you had made the front page: you, riding on your motorbike, pure joy on your face, while your hair and wedding dress fluttered in the wind, with the headline: WHIPSLASH GOT MARRIED?!?. "No way." Smoker muttered, while Hina's cigarette, 300 miles further, fell on the ground. A certain yonko snatched the bottle next to his bed, in spite of his hang-over, while redhaired rookie Kid yelled: "Her husband must be crazy. Hahaha!" and a blonde shipwright that was upset that he was not your best man.

A few hours after your sneeze attack, you reached your master's sailboat. You catapulted your motorbike with a roar of the engine on the deck, where you landed smoothly. "I am back!" You yelled, while you turned off the engine, and only the screaming of sea gulls could be heard. "(Y/N)! I am glad you're safe back!" Avis said, while running out of the kitchen. Erin, still in pyjamas, walked behind her, his hair still in sleep-mode. He suddenly held halt when he noticed your attire. And just gaped. "You like what you're seeing?" You said mockingly, an eyebrow raised. He needed a few seconds before returning to normal again. "I just remembered that you're actually a woman." You flushed in anger. "What's that supposed to mean?" You asked, your fist clenched. Avis interrupted before you two would destroy her ship. "(Y/N), why do you have mortar on your dress? You have to treat your wedding dress with care!" She said, while squeezing your cheek with her fingers. "Ouch! It is not my wedding dress! I just imposed the bride nothing more!" "Did you steal a wedding dress?" Avis said, her voice sugar sweet but her pinch said otherwise. You winced in pain. "Forgive me, aunt-sensei, but if I hadn't taken her dress, she would have died!" (What? It was a possible outcome.) Erin's aunt let you finally go, while the man himself watched your struggle with a content grin. You backed away, rubbing the red skin. "Ah, Erin, I've got a souvenir for you." You took out the wedding rings, and threw the bigger one to him. "Did you steal the wedding rings?!?"He yelled in shock, holding the ring between his fingers like it was explosive. You shot a nervous glare at your master, before answering. "No! The groom gave them to me!" You said, sweatdropping. Well, technically it was true. "And what should I do with it?" He asked, still gazing it like it was venomous. You took out your ring. "hmmm. Let me think... See it as a promise of our bond. I will have your back, and you mine. Until you marry of course, your girl, or boy, will get my ring then." He gulped loudly. "Hey! That was NOT cheesy!" You said, throwing a slipper to him. He dodged it, unfortunately. "It is!" "'tisn't!" "'tis!" When you both were out of breath, mostly you because of the corset, you still were wearing, you said: "And if you ecver decide to be stuck with me, we already have the rings!" Silence. He was redder than a radish, and steam came out of his ears. "Wh-What do you mean? Are you proposing to me!?!" "Nope. Just wanted to throw the worst-case-scenario into the conversation." You smiled angelic, and it scared the hell out of him. You walked past the frozen vice-admiral, while his brain worked overtime. His aunt, not so ladylike, rolled over the ground from laughing. You stopped next to him. "I am going to freshen up, you can always join me in the shower, if you want." You walked away, whistling a happy song, while Erin collapsed on the deck, a whimpering pile left from the once proud Marine officer. Complete Victory for you. You were utterly satisfied with the result.

Just before you would enter the scene, a crow landed next to you. You stared at it, and it stared back. Then you noticed the paper bound around his foot. "Thank you, Brunhilde." You said after untying the message. Why did you name the crow Brunhilde? Because she had a brunhilde face, so simple was it. The crow let out an indignant screech and took off, but not before leaving a little present for you. You wiped the bird poop away, as you read the message. Operation Disco Fever. Harbour, 9 o'clock. Ship: canard d'orange. You burned the message, while you stomach growled, thinking about every duck-delicacy. "They better have some decent food there." You muttered, before stomping away.