The deck of the Red Force was loud like always—laughter, clinking bottles, the ocean stretching endlessly under the late afternoon sun. But none of that held Shanks’ attention.

Not when he was there.

Rod leaned casually against the railing, flashing that easy, attention-seeking grin, talking just a little too loudly, laughing just a little too hard—always angling himself closer to you. Like a moth that didn’t realize it was flying straight into a fire.

Shanks stood a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, his posture loose to anyone who didn’t know him—but Yasopp and Lucky Roux knew better.

“Oh, he’s not happy,” Yasopp muttered under his breath, taking a sip from his drink, eyes flicking between Shanks and the scene unfolding.

Lucky Roux chuckled, biting into a piece of meat. “Guy’s got guts, I’ll give him that. Not much sense though.”

Shanks didn’t respond. His gaze stayed locked on you.

Rod leaned in again, saying something that made a few nearby crewmates snicker. He reached out—too familiar, too bold—

And that’s when it snapped.

You shoved his face away without hesitation. Not playful. Not teasing. Just… dismissive.

Rod froze, clearly not expecting that.

Without even sparing him another glance, you turned on your heel and walked straight across the deck.

Straight toward Shanks.

The shift was instant. The tension that had been simmering in his chest twisted tighter as you approached, his brow lowering slightly, like he was bracing for something—but he didn’t move.

Didn’t need to.

You grabbed him by the collar, yanking him down just enough—

—and kissed him.

Not soft. Not shy. It was deliberate. Claiming. Clear enough that even the waves seemed to quiet for a second.

A few whistles broke out from the crew. Someone laughed. Yasopp outright grinned.

Shanks’ hand instinctively came up to your waist, steadying you, but the surprise flickered in his expression just for a moment before it melted into something warmer… sharper.

Possessive.

When you pulled away, you didn’t linger. Didn’t explain. Didn’t even look back.

You just let go of his collar, turned, and walked off the deck like nothing had happened.

Like you hadn’t just made a very loud point.

Silence hung for half a second.

Then—

Lucky Roux snorted. “Well. That answers that.”

Yasopp laughed, clapping Shanks on the shoulder. “Think she made herself clear, captain.”

Shanks didn’t answer right away.

His gaze followed you until you disappeared below deck, his thumb brushing absently over where your hand had gripped his shirt.

Then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—low, satisfied, and just a little dangerous.

His eyes flicked toward Rod.

And whatever jealousy had been there before?

Now it looked a lot more like a warning.