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shy-writer-999 · 4 months ago

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How many dreams to say "I love you?" (ii)

Summary: Zoro can’t stop dreaming about you, his best friend and crewmate. When his dreams start to wander from themes of romance and tenderness, he finds himself splitting at the seams. How long can he keep up this balance of night and day before he starts to go crazy?

Part 2 of 3 (or 4). ~5k words. CW: Mostly smut / PWP! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Poor, pervy Zoro. Non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation, toys, kissing. NSFW content - minors stay away!

Part 2: A double life is unsustainable.

As much as Zoro told himself that he learned his lesson—don’t eavesdrop on conversations that are clearly not meant for your ears—the dreams about you didn’t stop.

Days went by and he could find no reprieve from the phantom version of you at night. Torture wasn’t the word for it. Agony, more like. He was in agony. Every night.

While the swordsman affirmed to himself that the dreams were a non-issue, and that they’d inevitably stop soon, you were rapidly starting to infect every single facet of his life.

This duality was maddening—at night, he’d answer to a fantasy world with you, where you treated him like some precious thing, called him ‘baby’ or ‘honey,�� and kissed him. But during the day you were his crewmate, friend, and nothing else. He’d smile at you like usual, sit by you at dinner, and tell himself that nothing changed.

This was a half-truth. The only thing that had changed was Zoro. You were behaving typically, maybe a bit quieter than usual, but he told himself that he was overthinking it.

The issue was that you wouldn’t leave him alone at night, and each of your sickeningly heart-melting smiles during the day was making his heart do that twisting thing. He couldn’t stand it.

Zoro didn’t know why his brain wouldn’t abandon this fixation with you—it had almost been a week; how much longer would this keep up? How many more tender moments would he share with you at night before he went insane during the day? If he got to a breaking point, what would fix it?

The dreams were festering inside of him. Confounding this effect was that the quality of sleep he was getting was atrocious. It’s like he wasn’t able to rest properly at night because the dreams were so concerningly lucid—he felt like he almost wasn’t dreaming at all, just living in an alternate reality, a reality turned upside down, where you loved him and smothered him in affection. A reality where he liked that.

Zoro had no one to confide in about his troubles—you were the person who he was the most emotionally close to. If he could have told you, he would have. But he was worried that it would change something. What would blurting out his dreams and baring these hidden thoughts accomplish, other than make you uncomfortable?

If he did that, you may get the wrong idea. He wasn’t trying to come onto you, he wasn’t in love with you, didn’t have feelings for you, etc. Zoro didn’t think he was capable of romantic love, it just wasn’t in the picture for him and never would be. But that wasn’t the issue here, he told himself. In Zoro’s mind, the problem was that he was being tormented by you at night and couldn’t help it. He was at a loss for what to do.

You were one of the highlights of his days, even before the dreams started. Now he could feel himself, more than ever, looking forward to those moments and latching onto them during the day. He harbored the suspicion that his brain would memorize your face more each time. The dream version of you kept getting more lifelike, more brilliant, more real. It was uncanny.

After the first three nights, Zoro started to brace himself. He knew what was coming when he fell asleep. He knew you’d be there waiting for him in some new scenario.

DREAMS 5, 6, & 7: “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

The fifth dream Zoro had about you was one where you held his hand (literally, just you holding his hand, nothing else). Your hand was warm and soft—it felt like it was made for him, like you were made for him. You ran your thumb across his skin and squeezed his hand through your intertwined fingers.

It was a short dream. When he woke up, he could still feel your hand on his. If he kept his eyes closed, if he stayed still, he could feel your fingers, your weight, maybe even your breath against his neck…

When he woke up, he was befuddled. Seeing you on deck the following morning, he glanced down at your hands. Would they feel the same as they did in his dream?

The next night, in the sixth dream, you studied his face quizzically.

“What’s wrong babe? You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your eyes explored his face imploringly.

He said something in response. He couldn’t remember what it was, and it was of no consequence. After you studied his face more, you remarked, “Zoro, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He flushed even in his sleep and woke up moments later to a quicker heartbeat than was normal. This was seriously starting to concern him. As mundane as these sequences were, they were abnormal and confusing.

Were these dreams some subconscious manifestation of a nascent health problem? Or was he not training hard enough? Perhaps this was some form of self-performed punishment for being so distracted by your presence? Maybe he needed to double down on the stoicism and the ascetism.

The seventh dream was also mundane. You were wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants; you kissed him and told him he smelled good. He had seen you wear his hoodies before, in real life. You always had an excuse (“mine are all in the washing machine, can I wear some of yours?) and he always looked at you more than normal.

There was something about you in his clothes that stirred him inside. He didn’t know what was up with that. Something squeezed inside of him at the sight of your face peeking out of his hoodies, your limbs filling up his shirts and sweats; he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The morning after the hoodie and sweatpants dream, Zoro woke up perplexed. His dreams, in the wake of the conversation he overheard, stayed relatively romantic. They weren’t straying from themes of tenderness and endearment (well, except that first dream, the shower sex one).

The romance is what baffled him the most—he had never looked at anyone with romantic intentions before, so why was his brain throwing it at him? Why you, in particular? It was mystifying, suffocating, and excruciating.

There were floodgates inside of him, pooled up dams of emotion, burgeoning romance, desires and fears, and your conversation with Nami sent a shockwave through those walls. They began to crumble, and new cracks showed every night.

Zoro tried not to worry, but he had an understanding that this odd trend of (what was it at this point?) six nights consumed by you was only sustainable so far as the dreams stayed this way—tender and, above everything, mundane.

He was a regimented man. He stuck to a clear and concise schedule, as far as waking up, feeding himself, working out, etc. But the dreams threw a wrench in his daily routine. The negligent quality of sleep he was getting, even after only six days, was starting to have quite the effect on him.

He was barely keeping it together by the six-day mark, dark circles deepening into sunken rings under his eyes. He concluded that he couldn’t handle anything farther than these dreams of kisses and cuddles. If the dreams changed—if they got explicit, he told himself—then he’d start to really lose it.

Emotional turmoil be damned, he could retain a sense of normalcy as long as his waking hours went on as usual and nothing else changed. He may be exhausted, but he could cope. He hoped the dreams would fade into absurdity, cease, and leave him the hell alone.

This was a self-deluding hope.

DREAM 8: Breaking point

The next night, Zoro dreamed that he was walking around the ship aimlessly. He did a lap around the deck, meandered lazily through the galley, and checked the crow’s nest. It seemed like the whole thing was empty. Where was everyone?

He sauntered to check out the sleeping quarters. All the doors were open, the lights were off, and the cabins were empty, except yours. Your door was ajar and the light was on—he felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. As Zoro walked towards your door, time seemed to alter. He moved in slow motion, laser-focused on your cabin, approaching slowly with bated breath.

As he got closer, he started to hear something.

It was a mix of sounds. There was a wet sort of clacking sound, first, and when he got closer to your door, he also heard faint gasps and gentle moans. His heart beat faster. He reached the door—it was only a couple inches open. He knew way lay ahead.

The sounds were getting louder. He leaned in, staring through the miniscule gap between the door and doorframe, to see what was happening. His hand was poised on the doorknob, ready to push it open.

When Zoro saw what was happening inside, he froze.

You were lying on your bed naked, thighs spread, propped up on your pillows. Your face was contorted into an expression of bliss, mouth agape just slightly, brows pinched together, eyes closed. His gaze travelled down to fix on your breasts, a perfect pair in his opinion. But your arms looked like they were moving, so his gaze trailed down farther. He saw clearly now that you were touching yourself.

You were moving one finger very slowly in and out of yourself; your sensitive spots were red and inflamed, juices seeping out and covering your thighs and hand. He listened to your labored breathing and heard the messy sounds echo through the room.

When you stuffed another finger in yourself, he heard you murmur something, but he couldn’t quite make out what you said. He leaned closer, his proximity to the door threatened to push it open.

You let the sound out again. He heard it this time.

“Zoro.”

Your moan was quiet and needy. He was mesmerized—you moaned his name again and moved your fingers faster. Your pitch increased, your body tensed up, you were so wet that arousal was pooling beneath you, saturating and staining the sheets.

He thought you were about to orgasm when you stopped suddenly, drawing your fingers out of yourself with a gasp.

Reaching to the side, you picked something up. Zoro’s brain registered it with a considerable lag—that was a vibrator. That was your vibrator. He saw it once on accident, when he offered to grab some of your laundry and put it in with his load.

That must have been months ago. When he walked into your room and looked for your hamper, the vibrator caught his eye, sitting on your bed as plain as day. You had forgotten that it was there. He found himself blushing and pretended like he hadn’t seen it. But now it made an appearance in his dream—how sick and twisted.

You pressed the toy into your entrance, pressing it inside yourself with it for a few moments before you pulled it out again. Every thrust of your wrist was coupled with a keen of his name.

The vibrator was dripping wet. A string of your arousal connected the tip of the vibrator to your core and his eyes followed as you brought the toy to your clit. Pressing a button, the vibrator sprung to life, filling the room with a low whirring and pulsing sound. You whined his name again and pushed the vibrator back and forth on your sensitive nub, toes curling in pleasure. Your other hand crept down and snuck a finger back into yourself.

Zoro was hypnotized by the sight of you getting off with both your vibrator and fingers, evidently touching yourself to the thought of him. Your moans got louder again, along with the obscene sounds emanating from down there. He could feel his erection. He was painfully hard.

You started to writhe and squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you mewled, tone pathetic and desperate. “Fuuuucccck me, Zoro, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your thighs started to shake.

It seemed like you were about to cum. He wanted you to cum, wanted to see you cum from fucking yourself with your fingers and toy to the thought of him—but right when you started moaning the loudest, right when you were one good pulse away from screaming his name, Zoro woke up. Of course.

Upon opening his eyes, he was immeasurably frustrated. Any time that these dreams, sexual or not, seemed like they were coming to a climax, he’d always wake up. It was like his brain was telling him to go fuck himself. And he was about to.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it was like his mind was playing games, like it was edging him or trying to piss him off. He was rock hard, about to cry from frustration, wishing more than anything that he could just have you, but knowing that would and should never happen.

Zoro had been telling himself that the dreams were just an aberration, a mistake, that he could forget about them during the day because they only were a nuisance at night, and nothing really happened in them that would impact his day in any meaningful way. But the narrative of the dreams not impacting his day didn’t hold up when he started to fist his cock while thinking about you.

He was forced to face the facts—the dreams were getting worse to the point where they started to bleed into his waking hours.

The morning after Zoro dreamed about you masturbating, he had to step away. Seeing you walk around the deck, interacting with you and watching you walk away… it was too much.

He went to the bathroom, locked the door, and palmed his growing erection until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Unzipping his pants and sneaking a hand into his underwear, he started to touch himself.

Maybe it had just been too long since he orgasmed (or even touched a woman). Sure, that’s what all of this was. His brain was grasping for straws because he was too repressed, right? You were there in front of him every day, so his brain had to make do—this was just a matter of proximity, nothing more. This is what Zoro coddled himself with, soothing his worries for a few moments. It had just been too long.

While he squeezed and stroked his aching length, he could barely keep in the feral grunts and groans threatening to leave his mouth. He bit his lip. Every time his fist grazed his angry, leaking tip, his cock twitched. It felt so good, but it would feel even better, if only…

At first, he tried to not think about you while doing it. He felt guilty enough as it was, having explicit dreams about his closest friend. But when his hand was wrapped around his shaft and precum trickled down his fingers in clear rivulets, the image of you touching yourself seared in his brain, unrelenting and arousing.

“Zoro.”

His name had sounded otherworldly when it parted your lips, coated in tones of lust and desperation. Just like the dreamscape he entered every night, composed of only thoughts, his thoughts in this moment could stay internalized too, couldn’t they? Kept private? This could be a one-time thing, hell, maybe it would make the dreams and nagging thoughts go away altogether. It had been too long, after all. Against his better judgment, the swordsman indulged. Just this once.

Scattered scenes flashed through Zoro’s mind the instant he decided to let his thoughts wander. All of it thundered at once like a maelstrom.

First, the look of your eyes, glossy, rolling back in your head in ecstasy. Then, the image of him shoving his cock in your wet mouth and watching you choke on it. The feeling of scissoring his fingers inside of you, of pulling your hair, of listening to your whimpers while he wrenched orgasms from you, pushing his fingers into your mouth while you sucked on them and made eye contact with him, watching your body writhe and writhe and writhe… every morsel and droplet of your envisioned pleasure fueled the force that was Zoro’s fist on his cock.

It would be hot and sloppy. Filthy.

You’d tell him to “keep going,” you’d dig your fingernails into his biceps, drool from how good it felt, swallow up his inches like nothing—he revered you, craved you, and worshipped you. He needed all of you. Wanted to smell you, taste you, hear you, and have you. He was getting carried away.

What if you walked into the bathroom right now? The door was locked, obviously, but the mental image of you stumbling across him like this gave him some sort of nasty thrill. If only you approached him, sunk to your knees and opened your mouth, petted him and praised him—

When the swordsman came all over his hands, he felt vile. He felt like a hypocrite.

He always called Sanji a pervert and derided him for his lack of control around women, and now here Zoro was, getting off on a dream he had about his own friend and crewmate. And what’s worse is that he didn’t look away in the dream when he saw you touching yourself. He didn’t even try. (To be fair, it’s not like he had control over what he dreamed about, nor could he control what he did in them, but that was a nonfactor to him.)

Zoro felt like shit.

The next time you talked to him, he turned crimson. He seemed distracted. He had been working out more than usual, so you told yourself it was the post-workout glow. You’d never seen him blush a day in your life, but sure enough, it was creeping up his neck and slowly starting to take over his cheeks.

He tried to forget his trip to the bathroom, but your pretty face made his heart thump and his stomach turn. He tried to forget the mental images his brain conjured up in his rabid state of desire. It was futile. He felt like he was going to be sick.

In your brief conversation after dinner the same day, you asked Zoro if he’d grab a drink with you. “It’s been a while,” you smiled at him, same as ever. “Let’s catch up in the next couple days over some sake. Deal?”

He hesitantly agreed. He missed you—the real you, not the dream version of you. When he said yes, you beamed at him, and his mouth went dry. He needed to get a grip and figure out what the fuck his problem was.

Zoro gave up on talking to you about the conversation he eavesdropped on over a week ago. He felt like he missed his opportunity (which is arguable) and, more than that, he felt like he wouldn’t know how to approach that conversation. What would he say at this point? “Hey, I’ve been having vivid dreams about you and I’m going fucking crazy?”

No. So, he kept it inside. He figured that he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. Would he ever admit that he heard the conversation? He wondered about this. Maybe he’d never fess up to it. Maybe he’d keep it to himself, internalize once again. But he was quickly learning that when he tried to stuff these huge emotions back inside of him, they got bigger, louder, more unruly. It was like psychological warfare, except the assailant was his brain.

At this point, the dreams felt all-consuming. He’d get so wrapped up in them at night that he felt like he was in a daze during the day. Perhaps he was being dramatic, or perhaps his brain was desperately struggling to regulate a whopping load of emotions he had never encountered before, or rather, that he had never let himself acknowledge before.

He worried that you could tell something was off with him. You could.

Later, you asked, “Hey Zoro, you doing ok?”

He stuttered out a response, flustered by your presence, falling apart in seconds. It was very unlike him. “Wha—? H-hey, uh, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking on you. You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your expression was one of concern. He seemed off, not to mention those dark circles of his. Was he getting sick? Was the insomnia coming back?

Upon hearing your words, it was like a lightning bolt hit Zoro. “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

What an insane coincidence. You said those very words to him in a dream a few nights ago, after which you complimented his eyes. He froze for a second, then tried to play off his shock with a yawn.

“I feel fine.” He shrugged. It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. “Just haven’t been sleeping the best.”

The paranoia was coming—did you know that he was dreaming about you? Had he been acting weird? Could you tell that he was thinking about you every moment of the day? God forbid, were you starting to form the misconception that he liked you in some romantic or erotic way? Fuck. This was getting ridiculous. Get a grip, man, he told himself.

You tried to ignore how odd he was acting. If he said he was fine, then he was fine.

He tried to convince himself that he was fine. He tried to wait it out and see that his attempt at convincing himself was effective.

It was not.

DREAM 9: A shocking revelation

Zoro’s dream the following night was delightful and concerning.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with something. Maybe he was sharpening a sword, refitting a sheath, polishing his boots… something like that. That part was foggy. Behind him, Zoro felt a weight on the bed. He knew it was you.

You scooted close to him from where you were sitting and reached your hands under the hem of his shirt. Your fingers ran over his bare skin, relishing the feeling of his abs and happy trail, every inch of his taut, tanned skin. You reached around his front and wrapped your arms around him. Your palms were warm, and you moved closer, body flush on his from behind. It was not lost on him that he could feel your breasts pressing on his back.

“Zoroooo,” you cooed right in his ear. Goosebumps. “You’re no fun. Pay attention to me. I’m bored.” You were whining.

You tickled him, poked him, kissed his back through the fabric of his shirt. You were all over him and it felt like your hands were everywhere. You were begging him to put down what he was doing and give you his undivided attention.

“Fine,” he responded in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes and putting his things away. He turned, maneuvering his body so he was facing you. “What do you want me to do?”

You pouted. “I don’t know. I’m bored. Let’s lay down and cuddle. Please?”

The scene shifted. You two were lying in bed, facing each other. You were eye to eye, arms thrown over each other. Zoro tucked your hair behind your ear, breathless. He was enamored, entranced by your beauty and admiration. Your hand was placed under his shirt, resting on his side. The skin contact felt electric. You leaned in and started to pepper his face with kisses—a recurring theme in these dreams. He must have really wanted that.

He closed his eyes.

You first brushed your lips lightly over his, and then you moved to kiss all over one of his cheeks, all over his forehead, his other cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyes, his jawline, ending at his lips again. You nuzzled his nose, ran your fingers through his hair—it was like you couldn’t get enough of him. Your lips were soft, meeting his delicately. When you pulled away from him. You held eye contact, an affectionate smile playing across your lips. He smelled you, felt you, and felt enveloped by you.

Zoro leaned in and kissed your forehead. You giggled and pulled him closer.

He could feel himself starting to say something in the dream, working up the nerve to say something that made his heart feel like it would stop. The words were getting caught in his mouth, they felt like they were taking forever to form…

They were words he almost said to you once before in a dream. He forced them out through his cotton mouth and hesitation.

“I love you.”

When the words left his lips, that twisting feeling happened inside of him so intensely that it must have detonated something. Each piece of shrapnel sent bolts of lightning through his body; he felt like he was vibrating, euphoric, every nerve on fire. He couldn’t breathe.

The dream version of you looked into his eyes and nodded. “I know you do, Zoro. I see you.”

Buzzing, Zoro felt like he wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and give it to you. He wanted you to see him, to see every part of him, to bare his soul to you and say ‘look, here is everything in me, here is every part of me.’

You were about to pull him into another kiss before he awoke up with a start, sweating and practically shaking.

Zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest. He sat up. Immediately, his first instinct was to check whether or not you were really in his bed. You weren’t—to both his relief and disappointment. He checked the time—3:36AM. Far too early. But he couldn’t fall back asleep now, not when his heart was pounding like this.

Why did he tell you he loved you?

It would be an understatement to say that Zoro’s mind was racing. He recalled that in one of his first dreams he wondered if you would still feel lonely if he embraced you. But if he did more than embrace you, if he gave all of himself to you, what then? What would you feel if he did that?

Would you stop feeling lonely and sad if he gave everything to you, even his heart? Would you give him yours, in return?

He ruminated on the concept of giving all of himself to you. What did that mean, and why did the thought pass through his mind when he was dreaming?

To give you all of him, for you to see every part of him… was that love? Is this what it meant to love? If giving you every part of himself meant spending every moment with you that he could, kissing and caressing you, making you feel better, listening to every word you stored up inside, sharing every word he stored up inside… The realization hit him like a train.

He wanted that. He ardently wanted to fill in the hole that loneliness had carved out of your life. And he realized that there was one in his life, as well. A lacuna of would-be companionship that he had forever thought was out of reach.

Could he give you what you needed? Is that what love is? To share yourself with someone else, to want them, to cherish them, care for them, see them for who they are?

He wanted to give you all of him. He didn’t want you to feel lonely, sad, or distressed ever again. He wanted to always be there, he wanted you to know you could tell him anything, wanted to know you like the back of his hand, and he wanted you to know him like that, too.

Zoro understood now what that twisting, thumping feeling inside of him was. No, it wasn’t arrythmia, or indigestion, or anything of the sort—it had been lying low for months, boiling under the surface. It all clicked into place.

That stirring and twisting feeling? It was the feeling of that lock inside of him breaking into a million pieces. The lock around his heart that prevented him from wanting to love and from knowing how to… it was gone now, obliterated.

That impenetrable lock, the lead chains, the crushing weight of it… He used to think that the key to that lock didn’t exist. But now that you were here, Zoro realized that you were the missing key. You were the one capable of ripping open that relentless opacity, that stoicism, that brick of pain that he tried to ignore and train away. You had ripped it to shreds, like it was nothing. You did it over the course of many months, many days, and even in his sleep.

Zoro realized that he was in love with you.

He wanted to recognize you completely and absolutely, and for you to do the same to him.

Zoro wanted to take showers with you and take turns shampooing each other’s hair. He wanted to hold your hand in public, feeling and seeing nothing else but you. He wanted to come home after a long day and hold you tight, kiss you and call you sweet names. He wanted to nuzzle your nose every day and drink up every smile like he was starving for it.

To think that you were so sad and lonely you cried? That shattered him. Hearing you be so vocal about it, seeing a different side of you that he never knew before—maybe he never felt this emotion until he met you for a reason. Now that the pieces were falling into place, he saw that it was you. It was always you. It was only you. It would only be you forever.

He did not have another dream about you for three nights.

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taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996

a/n: thanks so much for reading! part 3 is going to be a minute - lmk if you want to be on the taglist! i have yet to write (most of) it.

#zoro smut #roronoa zoro smut #one piece smut #op smut #op x reader #one piece x reader #one piece reader insert #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x y/n #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro x y/n

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curlyfriesgalore · 5 months ago

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the tulpar's very own "mom" & "dad."

i sent an anon message to a user (iykyk 🫣) about the reader dating curly while being a co-captain/pilot alongside him. they're seen as the mom and dad of the group because of their positions as leaders, and daisuke claimed they both had major facebook mom energy. definitely not self-projecting.

the two rolled with it, but discovered that they liked it way more than they realized, eventually calling each other mommy and daddy in their own space.

★ this is a sfw & nsfw list of headcanons and what is essentially a one-shot that's broken up into bullets. [4,211 words]

☆ gen tags: fem! reader (she/her) who loves being captain and doesn't know what's popular these days. reader and curly are in their early 30s. no crash au. curly wants to have a family with you. jimmy is a janitor here LMAO.

★ nsfw tags MDNI: mommy (mama) kink. daddy kink. role switching but leans into fdom/msub. curly secretly got a thing for breeding 🫢.

[any feedback on my writing is much appreciated btw! since i'm doing this to improve —iris🌠]

sfw.

★ the dynamic.

you and curly met through working at pony express. both of you were equally capable captains and pilots of your respective ships, bonding over the responsibilities and pressures of your roles.

curly adored your genuine drive for this job. you were so passionate about bringing out the best in people and enjoyed micro-organizing every little detail, making sure everything went smoothly.

meanwhile, he was just good at talking, which you would always praise, but he never found much pride in what he does. however, it paid immensely well, and, at the very least, he got to indulge in his love for astronomy at every waking hour, distracting himself enough from cycling through his depressive thoughts.

so, he's not complaining. plus, he gets to ogle at and hang out with the prettiest and coolest person at pony express.

(sure, he had jimmy, so he wasn't always so alone with his mind, but with you in his life, he might actually have a chance at settling down. though, curly was getting ahead of himself. he'll try to drop his future family fantasies for now... juuust until he's sure he can bag you).

curly finds your way of leading to be so endearing and... intimidating, honestly. while he was calm and compromising, you were firm and authoritarian. you were never swayed by incompetence and planted a strong ground when navigating discourse between crewmates, but, at the same time, you were nurturing. you have an air of deep kindness and wise guidance that sends him reeling. he'd openly tell you how much he admired that, but would never admit that he daydreams of how hot you looked when you ordered your crew around. he's got to stay professional, after all!

at some point, the two of you were paired for a 3-month long-haul flight. you, the captain, and he, the co-captain. one thing lead to another and without the company's knowledge, you two fell for each other.

how could you not? you two had all the elements of a power couple and understood each other better than anyone else. besides, he is one hunk of a man. of course you'd want to snag him for yourself, who wouldn't?

funnily enough, you guys asked to see each other in the cockpit with the same intention of declaring feelings.

and, of course, since you two were grown adults stuck on a spacecraft far too long for your libidos to handle, it only took two confessions interrupting each other, two pairs of hands holding, and two soft kisses to lead to the two of you passionately making out, with you straddling his lap as he wrapped his arms around your back.

it's been years since then, and the tulpar was just one of many long-haul trips where the two of you got to work together.

however, you guys have kept your relationship hidden for the sake of professionalism. even jimmy was dumbfounded to accidentally find out nearly a year into dating.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"dude, why the fuck do you have captain l/n in your wallet...?" jimmy squinted at the photo. his eyes scrolled down the print, coming to a halt and widening at what he saw, "wait, shut up, is that you two kissing?"

his eyebrows contorted into a tense knit. his mouth gaped as he stared at curly, who stood and scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "since when?!"

as curly explained himself, jimmy half-heartedly laughed as he shook his head, bemusement painting his face. whether or not he was ever happy to learn about this, curly will never know.

then, realization hit. jimmy frowned as he pinched the bridge of his nose, "oh, god, please don't tell me those stains i've been cleaning were from you guys?"

"huh?! no, no! jimmy, i swear, that wasn't us, i promise!" curly panicked, his head shaking profusely.

turns out, it was, lmfao. jimmy gave him an earful, and curly kept apologizing, embarrassed that his best friend knows a little too much about what he's been doing around the ship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

this man adored you, more than anything. the security you had in him—in yourself, most of all, was intoxicatingly comforting.

the two of you swore to stick together for as long as it takes, and have already planned out your wedding, buying a house together, changing careers (curly wants to be a stay-at-home dad, maybe freelance in something if he's got time), owning pets, raising kids (he is 100% a girl dad!!! i can see him wanting at least 2, but if you still have room for one more, he'll gladly take responsibility *wink* *wink*), etc.

curly believed that you both balanced well as parents. you would teach the kids to be brave and confident in themselves, whereas, he would help them learn to handle confrontation calmly and be friendly to all.

(he's not saying that you weren't friendly, just that, between the two of you, he specialized more in the charm department. he wasn't wrong, though! back before you guys dated, he cranked his charisma to a max, and look where that's got him now 🤭).

all of this meant everything to curly. he had quite a rough start to life, not financially but familially (how you want to interpret that is up to you). it's why he's become such a people-pleaser and tends to be a doormat, growing used to internalizing his feelings because he believed others were more deserving of pity (a belief that's been reinforced by jimmy throughout their friendship).

not to mention, how much he worried about being with someone who had to stay on earth. he felt guilty for this hypothetical person, how they'd be akin to a military spouse, waiting for god knows how long, just for curly to come back and stay for less than 6 months at a time. it sickened him to think of how that would affect his future children.

so, for him to be in a relationship with someone in the same occupation and caliber as him eased a lot of that fear. and, this is the same person who is known for her emotionally maturity, who knows how to express her thoughts and feelings, and who loves curly for all that makes him him, giving him more reasons than he already had to get down on that knee.

good GOD does he wish he could go ahead and do that already, but proposing on an aged piece of metal in outer space wasn't the most... romantic setting, as much as you jokingly insisted it was.

but, no worries, curly's got it all planned out. once you all land back on earth, curly is making sure you get your dream proposal, for that man is stopping at nothing to wed you and love you for the rest of his life!

★ the beginning to a never-ending petname.

one night, anya pulled out a pop-culture board game, one that the others understood the rules and references of fairly quickly. but, you and curly? oh, you guys needed time.

you two weren't dumb by any means, you guys were just... a little behind on the trends—trends that have been out for forever 💀.

everyone poked fun at how much you would both pause and say, "huh...?" or "w-what's that from, again?" how your brows would knit and furrow, your faces looking blank as ever. the two of you would take a slow glance at each other, then at the others, and shake your head in confusion.

admittedly, swansea was in the same boat as you two, but even he knew a couple of things better than you lot. "the benefits of raising two nerds for kids," he'd say. he liked laughing at you guys, made him feel young.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"ohh, isn't that the game you play on your gameboy, daisuke? the... you know, uh, the cute pika ball thing?" daisuke stared at curly, dumbfounded by what he was hearing.

"CAPTAIN. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW THE NAME OF ONE OF—IF NOT—THE HIGHEST FORMS OF ART?!" he turned to you, desperation fueling his eyes. "l/n, please tell me you've at least heard of pokémon before..." daisuke exaggeratedly clasped his hands together.

you sat there, pursing your lips with shifty eyes and pretended to whistle as you looked away.

"anya. swansea. i think i'm gonna faint..." he dramatically dropped himself onto the two. swansea shook his head, uncrossing his arms and pulling daisuke off his and anya's laps, "kid, you are way too dramatic for your own good."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

daisuke exasperatedly commented on how you and curly were so much like his parents, clueless and far too involved in work to know his interests.

then, he thinks for a second, and finally decides that you guys were technically the parents of the ship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"right? think about it. if the tulpar were a house and we were family, l/n and curly would be mom and dad 'cause they're responsible for us and the ship. swansea's the grandpa—oh, come on, swan, don't look at me like that!"

"i mean, you do have grandkids, swansea..."

"exactly. THANK YOU, anya. now, you get to be the cool older sister, i'm the even cooler teenage son, polle can be like... our little pet or something, and jimmy is the uncle!"

"wh-why am i the uncle?"

"'cause you know... you're... you."

"what is THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

as an "argument" ensued between the others, you and curly were flushing. nobody but jimmy knew of your relationship, but the fact that daisuke figuratively paired you guys as a married couple turned you into a bashful, blushing mess.

nobody noticed, really. jimmy was too busy grumbling about being seen as the weird uncle, and everyone started getting really annoyed by him. so, in classic curly and y/n fashion, you two tried to resolve the situation (curly reassured jimmy that uncles can be cool! but jimmy's frown just deepened).

the game ended, and the two of you walked to your sleeping quarters, reflecting on how it went. not bringing up the mom/dad thing just yet, but it lurked in the back of your minds.

deciding to stay in his room, you and curly changed into your pjs. you snuggled up under the covers, but he momentarily checked on some paperwork. you groaned, rolled your eyes, and patted the pillows.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"babyyy, just get into bed now." you pouted.

curly chuckled, "okay, okay... just give me ooone more sec, mama, i'll be right there—"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

your eyes widened, a fuzzy warmth bubbled within you. curly quickly got embarrassed and apologized, but when you softly chuckled and reassured him that you didn't mind, he relaxed.

hearing how smoothly 'mama' rolled out his tongue unlocked something deep in you.

the truth was, curly had been calling you 'mom', 'mama', and 'mommy' in his fantasies for quite some time now. he told you, now with him in bed, how it helped him immerse himself in imagining his future with you. even in scenarios where you didn't have kids yet, it still felt so soothing to call you by those titles.

he rested his head in the crook of your neck as you circled his back with your palm, occassionally playing with the ends of his hair. as he yapped about it, trying to make it seem less of a big deal for him, you lifted his chin to face you. he instantly softened, his words faltering as you looked down on him.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"you can call me, mommy, more often if you'd like to, baby... i really don't mind." you reassured in a low voice.

curly was uncertain, but his ocean doe eyes remain glued to your deep gaze. he swallowed, "are you sure? you don't have to put up with it if you don't really like it, honey, it's okay—"

you softly hushed him, thumbing the golden hairs scattered on his cheek. "no, i mean it." you paused, hoping the following words sounded smooth, "...mommy thinks it's genuinely cute when you call me that."

curly squirmed. a whimper resided in his throat, but, as the rumbling of your voice trailed down his spine, he let a quiet, high-pitch moan escape his lips.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

for a man who presents himself as someone very self-assured, he does have a hard time accepting that you were really okay with it.

however, when his hesitancy eases into normalcy, he's calling you 'mommy' and 'mama' in every other sentence. if not, all his sentences.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hey, mommy, where'd you put my mug?"

"mama, you need to stop sleeping so late. it's bad for your health." (he's a hypocrite and he knows it).

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

curly's voice was naturally deep, saccharine sweet, and a bit raspy at times. but, when he called you by your motherly petnames, he'd go an octave softer, especially as the night came to a close and sleepiness was taking a toll on him. he'd sound a little dumb and incoherent, but the bass in him remained strong.

he still calls you by the classic petnames, mainly 'darling' and 'honey' since those are his other personal faves. though, minutes prior to work, he'd try to use your actual name or settle with 'babe,' so he doesn't accidentally call you 'mommy' in public. it was deeply personal for him, and if someone like jimmy caught wind of that, it would greatly upset curly, even though he would very likely tell you it was fine (just so you wouldn't chew jimmy alive).

so, when YOU began calling him, 'daddy,' it sent his mind into a haywire. (how it happened is in the nsfw section!)

he loved the safety of calling you his mommy, how it relieved the weight of his captain duties and the thoughts burdened in his mind. but, with his newfound title, he'd flip between feeling secure in your protection to wanting to do nothing but protect you. not from any real danger, perse, but, moreso, caring for each other's well-being when either of you wanted to indulge in a little less control.

it made sense that even you, the commanding leader who enjoyed delegating and dominating others (other than him), needed a break from your responsibilities and wanted curly to take the wheel for a change.

you both took turns pampering one another. he would do everything you wanted, and made sure to wrap you in his big, strong arms by the end of the day.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"rest your pretty head for me, okay, mommy? daddy's got you..."

he brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it deeply, thumbing your knuckles with his large, calloused fingers. with his other arm, curly pressed your waist closer to his, letting you relish in his warmth.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

when it was his turn, a long snuggle session, loads of praise, and kisses in every place was all he needed (don't forget to call him your good little boy! he needs his mommy's praise after a rough day at work).

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"honeyyy, i've called you 'good boy' like 24 times in a rowww...!" you whined. of course you didn't mind peppering kisses on his face with the same adoring name over and over again, but now, he was just getting greedy.

curly giggled, nuzzling his nose against your cheek as he softened his sea blue eyes, "just ooone more, pleaaase, mama? please...?"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

he loved how reliable the term 'daddy' felt. it gave him a little ego boost. he's always had a pretty good relationship with his masculinity, but this just added onto that like a good affirmation.

the way his mind would get so lost in replaying how you two back-and-forthed with your respective petnames. it felt like he was role-playing his future family with you in real time.

★ extras.

it became an ongoing joke with the crew, especially with daisuke. whenever you'd tell him to get back to work, he'd drawl out a long "okayyy, mommmm," but quickly apologized after swansea smacked the back of his head.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"tch, don't talk to your captain like that."

"ach! i'm sorry, I'M SORRYYY—i was kidding!!!"

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

anya found it silly, never really saying anything like daisuke, but since you two became good friends (both because you guys genuinely clicked and were the only women on board), she had a knack for teasing you about it. she knew something more was going on between you and curly. so, maybe, just maybe, during a psych eval, you eventually spilled to her about your relationship.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"hehe, called it."

"seriously?! how?"

"y/n... it's so obvious. i've seen you guys sneak into each other's rooms."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

swansea didn't care. he was an actual dad, after all, and practically everyone he knew eventually became a parent one way or another. though, if you felt comfortable enough with swansea and told him about your relationship, he surprisingly wouldn't mind giving you two a piece of advice. how to keep a long-term marriage? dude's been with his wife for over 40 years and counting. raising children? please, he's done it twice. unclogging the toilet after your kids threw your deodorant down the drain? don't ask, just listen. you're much better off not knowing how.

whatever it is, ask away, but don't expect anything easy on the ears. swansea gives advice in poetic prose that borderline sounds like he's taking a jab at you.

truthfully, jimmy is somewhere in between being deeply irritated by the both of you and not giving two shits. he hates how you're sort of a curly clone, in the sense that you're also a high-performing person that everyone adores to work with. but, what's worse, is that you're so much harder to get mad at and are 100% capable of calling out his ass.

he's had to catch himself from saying anything too mean to curly multiple times. he knows he's easily replaceable, he's the janitor for god's sake, and if he said too much in front of you, he knows you'd tell pony express to fire him on the spot.

but, if we're assuming that jimmy is mentally better in the head, he'd eventually get over it and shrug off your guys' relationship, not wanting to grow envious as he does by default.

nsfw.

★ mommy.

it didn't surprise you that curly loved calling you 'mommy' in bed too. he'd always say, "mommy, you're so beautiful", "m-mommy, it's too tight...!" and when he gets overwhelmed, he'd become so dazed as his dick ached, crying because his mama felt so good.

he was like pavlov's dog, only the bell was your petname and you were the meal. if either of you were ever so slightly horny and everyone was stowed away in their quarters, hearing 'mommy' reverberate out of your mouth had him squeezing his thighs.

however, he's gotten used to mostly keeping it in his pants. not letting himself get needy when it's used casually. otherwise, he'd cease to function.

he loves it when you ride him, he gets all whimpery and brain-dead, begging his mama to let him cum out of his "little" boy dick.

all he wanted was his mommy to use him, make him so overstimulated until all that was left in his empty head was you.

sometimes, he loved the feeling of reaching his orgasm more than the orgasm itself. it's that momentary numbness he gets that he enjoys chasing, how every single thought completely disappeared, leaving him into nothing but a panting mess — all of him leaking out of his cock.

★ daddy.

one night, you were laying on curly, sitting upright. he held you in his arms as you spread your legs far and wide, toes digging into the mattress, gripping onto curly's biceps for support.

and, just like curly when he called you 'mama' for the first time, you accidentally slipped out a "daddy—!" as he fingered you, knuckles-deep.

you suddenly went quiet, quickly covering a hand over your mouth.

curly's eyes widened, his fingers stilled inside of you as his heart raced in his chest... he didn't expect it, but his shock washed into dominance.

he pulled out his fingers, his tone more stern and husk as he whispered, "say that again."

you whimpered, the loss of fullness making your thighs shudder. without a single thought, you called him daddy again, and again, and again... until he flipped you onto your stomach and was back to toying with you, digging into your insides at much greater speeds than before.

when you began regularly using it, he'd grow so romantic and reserved, wanting to take his time to just worship you—peppering deep kisses from head to toe—because in his eyes, you were the most precious person in existence.

he's never rough unless you tell him to be or he knows that it'll make you cum even better, but this man just loves to be slow and sensual. it's his go-to speed.

his favorite thing to do is coo at you, asking if you like how daddy is loving you or if daddy's doing a good job at touching your little hole. even when he's assuming a dominant role, he wants your reassurance.

curly is never mean. he only likes to light-heartedly tease you whenever you'd whine for him to keep going. other than that, he was heavy on his praises, loved complimenting you till you were blushing all over.

★ taking turns.

now, you guys would call each other 'mommy' and 'daddy' regardless of the dynamic, but if either of you felt more subby, you'd settle for the classic, 'good girl,' and him, 'good boy' (or any other submissive petname you prefer).

if you're domming and he's subbing, he wants you to use up all of his cum for your pleasure. he hopes you'll let him spill all that's left in him for hours on end.

however, most of the time, he's not really built for that, only able to handle a little over a round. so, to make up for it, he'll let you get him all pent up and force him to hold it in, using his desperation as energy to serve you.

the longer you left him like that, the faster his licks and finger-fucks became.

if you're cruel, making him rut into you would send him shaking. he'd struggle so hard, needing to take breaks as he alternated between slow and steady thrusts to rough humps according to what you ordered... oh, tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks.

(don't worry, he's not hurt. it's just a lot for him to physically handle. but, for you, he'd withstand anything!)

on the off-chance that he has the energy to go longer, he wants you to use him in all positions with only a minute to breathe after each cum. he wants to lose it, make him sweaty and breathless, please. turn him into a pathetic display only for your eyes to see.

if he's domming and you're subbing, he finds it fun to deny your orgasm, loving how surprised you get whenever he'd lift your vibrator off your clit or leave his dick in you, barely moving an inch. but even then, he quickly caves in and lets you have your way because nothing turns him on more than you cumming and crying for your 'daddy.'

he doesn't do that to hurt you, after all, he hates the mere possibility of even remotely making you uncomfortable. but, when he asks whether or not mommy misses his fingers, and you'd mewl in agreement, he can't help himself from edging you.

★ curly thinking of you. (extras).

he jerks off to the idea of breeding you.

but, even though it gets his dick all wet, he won't re-enact it just yet. he doesn't want to accidentally impregnate you when neither of you were ready—especially since you're the one carrying.

even if you were incredibly horny and adamant on it, he'd keep his rationale.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

"mommy... i'm not cumming inside you." he chuckled, shaking his head with his tone, firm. you whined, "but, why not?" a needy frown formed on your lips, "i just want to feel good, daddy. you said i could...!"

you grinded down on his boxers, wetness seeped through the fabric of your panties. curly stifled a groan as he felt your clothed folds slide against his tip, drenched in his pre-cum.

"i know, mommy, i know... daddy'll take care of you soon, i promise... but i'm not risking anything, okay?" he pressed a kiss on your forehead, thumbing circles on your stomach with his hands gripping your waist. "it's for your own safety, mama."

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

but, since this was all in his head, he could indulge in it as much as he wanted.

curly loved remembering the way your cum dripped out of your hole, how softly your pussy parted. it made him wish it was his, wanting to fill you up and let his mess soak up inside you.

he wished he could finger it back into you—or, even better, tongue-fuck it in. the thought of having you sit on his face with him lapping his cum into your walls, as you rubbed your clit against the end of his nose got him all hot and bothered.

with his hand pumping himself from base to tip, he'd think of you laying down on your back, wrapping your legs around curly's head as you pushed his mouth further into you. he'd moan into your pretty parts, purposefully deepening it so his voice would vibrate all over your pussy.

[holy shit, i wrote so much. thank you for reading all the way ♡ let me know if you guys want more captain! reader and/or mommy/daddy kink! curly —iris🌠]

#🌠 leads to my masterlist #whew had to edit it since i accidentally deleted a chunk 💀 but all is saved #hopefully i wrote everything in?#curly mouthwashing #curly x reader #mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing #captain curly #anya mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing

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moonydustx · 1 year ago

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Thought for the day - I believe there are two types of boys in One Piece in their relationships with girls, let me explain.

There are those where, outsiders, would never say that the two of you are in a relationship. You walk steps apart, exchanging only the essentials of words between you. However, anyone who looked closely could see that many times, some favors were done just for you, that his eyes always seemed to follow you at every step, protecting you even from afar. It was the type of situation in which the person who dared to mess with you would barely know where the blow would come from. However, when the two of you are alone, prepare for a clingy pair. He loves to make up for all the moments away when it's just the two of you - he holds you in bed for a few more minutes, stealing several kisses before facing the reality of the day, he always offers to accompany you on your explorations, just so he can drag you to hidden places in the city and enjoy the time alone, he will love you (aka fuck) as if that were the last night he would have you in their bed, after all, the next day, you both would just be crewmates again.

Law, Zoro, Marco, Killer, Katakuri, Mihawk, Smoker, Rob Lucci, Sabo (u can't tell me this loverboy wouldn't be the clingest guy in the alone time)

These people practically have your name tied to their existence. He don't exist without remembering your name immediately, accompanied by a smile, after all, anyone who saw - even if they didn't know you two - would know that you were made for each other - even if you are copies of each other's personality or are completely the opposite - you spark something in him that is sharp. They are super protective, yes, but they don't need to worry about following you far away, they know that no one would have enough balls to mess with his girl. Whenever they got into trouble, they immediately asked you for help after all you were one of the people he trusted most. With everyone already knowing about the two of you, he didn't need to make an effort to hide something, whether when he walked hand in hand with you, when he took the lead and asked who dared to interfere with their partner, or when they took advantage of any time free to love you (again, aka fuck) in a messy way, leaving marks and not sparing the noise. After all, everyone already knew that you belonged together.

Luffy, Crocodile, Ace, Kid, Sanji, Katakuri (he can be both versions, I'm sorry whoever disagrees), Franky, Shanks, Rayleigh, Buggy, Sabo (again, this sweetie fits for any side here)

a/n: I don't think anyone was missing, but if you have any suggestions, feel free to leave them here

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fireflyflarenight · 3 months ago

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Oh my goodness thank you so much!!! I'm so happy that my art inspired you :D 1000% looking forward to the fic when it eventually drops

After a long time of having little to no motivation to finish a full piece, seeing @nebrasska-alasska's Shadow build-a-bear in a prom dress somehow worked.

(Hi Nebrasska I think your fics are cool. Silly Hats and Party Favors holds a special place in my heart <3 I wanted to make fanart for that, but I never got around to doing it 😔)

Also:

If I owe you art, please hunt me down like the IRS hunts down a tax evader if I don't finish by the end of the month /gen

Reference pictures (link to post)

#happy :D #pure happiness right now #Fun Fact: Hidden Among Us crewmate somewhere in this image hehe

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2b4st4r · 6 days ago

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hii there:)

sooo what if reader and sanji,established relationship,and they keep their relationship pretty hidden for a long while until one day one of their crew m mates found them making out/kiss(?) by accidentally but that crewmate keeps that secret hidden but slowly teasers them during dinner(which made the others confused) but soon after they kind of reveal their relationship and the crew goes shocked or something

It could be other characters too!

(I figured I could just smash these together because you know why not)

Hidden love

Sanji x f!reader

Words: 8,197

SLIGHT SMUT!!

Warnings: implied sexual content, mild language, argument/conflict, jealousy

Req open

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

The salty spray of the Grand Line was as familiar as the calloused grip of your own hands on the rigging. Years had passed since you first set sail with Luffy, a wide-eyed dreamer with an impossible ambition. You’d seen islands rise and fall, faced down pirates, marines, and creatures beyond imagination. Through it all, you'd been a constant, a steadfast presence among the ever-growing chaos that was the Straw Hat Pirates.

You remembered the day Sanji joined like it was yesterday. The sharp suit, the swirling eyebrow, and the instant, unyielding devotion to any woman who crossed his path. Nami and Robin were often the targets of his elaborate declarations, but with you, it was different. He'd still shower you with compliments, offer you the choicest morsels from his culinary masterpieces, and spin you around during impromptu dance sessions on the deck. Yet, there was an unspoken depth to his gaze, a sincerity in his touch that transcended mere flirtation. It was a warmth that settled deep in your bones, a silent understanding that blossomed between you two like a rare, resilient flower in the unpredictable currents of the New World.

You were each other's anchors in a sea of adventure. Whether you were lending a hand in the bustling galley, chopping vegetables to the rhythm of his humming, or he was patiently untangling a stubborn knot in your rigging, your proximity was a given. His presence was a comforting hum in the background of your life, a melody woven into the very fabric of your journey with the Straw Hats.

A comfortable silence often settled between you and Sanji, punctuated only by the rhythmic creak of the ship and the distant shouts of your eccentric crewmates. It was in these quiet moments, tucked away from prying eyes – perhaps late at night on the crow’s nest, or hidden behind the galley’s swinging door – that your shared secret truly blossomed. For seven months, you'd been navigating the treacherous waters of a hidden romance, a feat that, in hindsight, felt utterly impossible.

How had you managed to keep it under wraps? You often wondered. Maybe it was the sheer force of habit, the way you’d always gravitated towards each other, an unspoken understanding that predated any romantic entanglement. Or perhaps it was Sanji’s unwavering devotion to the fairer sex, a smokescreen so effective it blinded even your sharpest companions. He'd still fawn over Nami, still offer Robin a lingering gaze, and in doing so, he created the perfect diversion. Who would suspect that beneath the whirlwind of his flamboyant affections, his truest, most genuine devotion lay with you?

It was a delicate dance, a constant awareness of wandering eyes and curious minds. A brushed hand lingered a fraction too long, a whispered word held a depth only you could decipher, a stolen glance across a crowded deck conveyed volumes. Each small, clandestine act was a thrill, a testament to the quiet, powerful connection you both cherished. It was insane, truly, the audacity of your secret, and the sheer joy of living it.

Why keep it a secret? It was a question you and Sanji never quite vocalized, though it hung in the air between you, an unspoken agreement. Perhaps it was the sheer novelty of it, a private rebellion in a life lived so publicly. Or maybe, and this was closer to the truth for you, it was the fear of commitment. Not commitment to Sanji, never that. But commitment to the idea of a relationship within the chaotic, unscripted reality of the Straw Hats. You’d always been a steadfast force, a reliable constant. The thought of adding another layer, another dynamic to manage, felt daunting in a world where your next destination was always uncertain.

For Sanji, it might have been a similar reluctance, or perhaps the ingrained habit of his persona. After all, he was the Straw Hats' resident love-cook, his chivalry a cornerstone of his identity. To suddenly be taken would undoubtedly alter that. Yet, despite the secrecy, despite the unspoken anxieties, there was an undeniable truth that resonated deep within you: you’d loved each other since the moment your eyes met. It was a cliché, perhaps, but one you clung to – soulmates, if such a thing existed, navigating the tumultuous currents of the Grand Line.

Sanji had a knack for pushing your buttons. His unwavering, over-the-top flirtations with every woman who crossed his path were legendary. Usually, you found it endlessly amusing. Watching him practically dissolve into a puddle at Nami’s feet or offer Robin a meticulously crafted drink with a flourish that threatened to send him toppling – it never bothered you. You knew Nami and Robin saw through the theatrics, saw the genuine heart beneath the lecherous exterior. It was all part of the Sanji experience, a harmless quirk in the grand tapestry of your crew.

But today, something shifted. The familiar sight of his swirling eyebrow and heart-shaped eyes, usually a source of quiet amusement, grated on your nerves. The air felt thick, charged with an unfamiliar tension. It wasn't the flirting itself; you were immune to that. It was the intensity of it, the way his voice, usually a melodic purr for the ladies, seemed to resonate with an almost desperate plea towards a particular stranger. Your usual detached amusement evaporated, replaced by a slow, creeping heat that had nothing to do with the tropical sun beating down on the deck. Today was different. Today, for the first time, you felt a prickle of something akin to…jealousy.

You weren't typically one to entertain such petty emotions, especially not jealousy. It felt beneath you, a silly, inconvenient little spark that rarely ignited. But Sanji, bless his lovesick, chivalrous heart, was currently fanning that spark into a roaring inferno. The Straw Hats had dropped anchor at an island that seemed to have sprung straight from a romance novel – all sun-drenched beaches and women whose beauty could rival any sea goddess. And Sanji? He was like a bumblebee in a field of sunflowers, buzzing from one bloom to the next, his heart-eyes practically radiating across the bustling port.

Most of them, as you expected, blew him off. A dismissive wave, a sharp glare, sometimes even a bewildered laugh as he dramatically knelt before them, presenting an invisible rose. He'd simply sigh dramatically, then move on, his ego apparently as resilient as a rubber band. You watched, arms crossed, a familiar smirk playing on your lips. This was Sanji. This was normal.

Until she appeared.

She wasn't just beautiful; she was captivating. Her laughter, when Sanji launched into his usual repertoire, wasn't a mocking snort or an exasperated sigh. It was genuine, a lilting, musical sound that carried on the breeze. And then, she flirted back. Her eyes danced as he spun a flowery compliment, a sly smile playing on her lips as she leaned in, whispering something that made him blush a shade deeper than usual.

Your smirk faltered. You watched him, waiting for the familiar, chivalrous dismissal, the polite but firm "My heart belongs to the ladies of my crew." But it never came. Instead, as he turned to continue his exploration of the island, she simply followed. Not just for a moment, but she stayed, chatting, laughing, her hand occasionally brushing his arm. And Sanji? He didn't brush her off. He didn’t stop. He walked with her, a rare, almost bashful smile on his face, a smile that felt intensely personal. Right there. In front of you.

A cold, hard knot formed in your stomach, replacing the usual warmth you felt in his presence. The familiar amusement drained from you, leaving behind a sharp, unfamiliar anger. Your emotions, usually a calm sea, now roiled and crashed like a stormy tempest. You felt a chill creep over you, despite the warmth of the sun. For the first time in a long time, looking at Sanji, your feelings felt as stark and unforgiving as the symbol of death.

The entire day bled into a frustrating, agonizing loop. Everywhere you turned, there they were: Sanji, his usual exaggerated swoons replaced by something subtly softer, more genuine, and the stranger, her laughter a constant, infuriating echo. He’d fetch her drinks, open doors, and even offer her a small, perfectly peeled tangerine, a gesture he usually reserved for Nami or Robin when they were particularly fatigued. And she, in turn, accepted it all, her eyes sparkling, a hand often resting on his arm as they walked.

You felt a burning in your chest, a desperate need to lash out, to make some kind of scene, to demand an explanation. But the thought of Nami’s sharp, assessing gaze or Robin’s quiet, knowing smile stopped you dead. They were too smart, too observant. They saw everything. A flicker of raw emotion, a crack in your composure, and your carefully guarded secret would be out.

So you plastered on a smile, a brittle, fragile thing that felt like it might shatter at any moment. You laughed a little too loudly at Usopp’s latest tall tale, pretended to be engrossed in Chopper’s ramblings about local herbs, and nodded enthusiastically at Franky’s plans for a new ship modification. All the while, a part of you was screaming, a silent fury simmering beneath your forced cheer.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. The air felt suffocating, each breath a struggle against the rising tide of your anger. "Oh, my stomach," you groaned, clutching your midsection with an Oscar-worthy performance. "Must have been that questionable street food. I think I need to head back to the ship, just to lie down for a bit."

Nami looked at you, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "Are you sure? We were just about to check out that new market."

"Yeah, Y/N-chan!" Sanji called out, his voice a little too distant, a little too preoccupied with the woman beside him. "I can whip you up something soothing when we get back!"

You managed a weak smile, a silent "thanks" that died in your throat. "No, no, don't let me spoil your fun," you said, waving a dismissive hand. "I'll be fine. Just need a bit of peace and quiet."

Robin, ever perceptive, offered a gentle smile. "Rest well, Y/N-chan. We'll see you later." There was a subtle depth in her gaze, a hint of something unsaid, but you were too consumed by your own turmoil to decipher it. You turned, walking away from the laughter, the flirtation, and the infuriating sight of Sanji, leaving the vibrant, beautiful island behind for the familiar, comforting solitude of the Thousand Sunny.

Back on the Thousand Sunny, the gentle rocking of the ship offered no solace. The vibrant sounds of the island faded with each step you took towards its empty decks, replaced by a suffocating quiet. The anger, held so tightly in check, began to surge, a hot, bitter wave washing over you. You couldn’t scream, couldn't punch a wall – not without drawing attention, not without having to explain. So you sought refuge in the one activity that promised both distraction and an outlet for your volatile emotions: deep cleaning.

Normally, you considered anything beyond a quick tidying a futile effort. What was the point of meticulously scrubbing the deck when Luffy would inevitably track in mud, or Zoro would leave his weights scattered, or Usopp would explode glitter in his workshop? But today, the usual apathy was gone, replaced by a furious drive. Your hands, usually deft in handling ropes and navigating charts, now moved with a raw, almost violent precision.

You started in the galley, the very heart of Sanji’s domain. Memories, usually warm and comforting, now stung. You scrubbed the gleaming countertop where you’d often leaned against him, sharing quiet jokes as he prepared a meal. The burnished surface reflected your strained face, the tight line of your jaw. You attacked the oven, a faint scent of burnt pastry clinging to it, a ghost of a time Sanji had tried to teach you to bake a soufflé, his arm brushing yours as he guided your hand. “Just like this, Y/N-chan,” he’d whispered, his breath warm on your ear. Now, you scoured every inch, as if trying to erase the memory, the gentle touch, the shared laughter.

Next, you moved to the crew’s quarters. You flung open the heavy oak door, the scent of stale air and various personal effects hitting you. Luffy’s discarded hat lay on the floor, Zoro’s swords were propped haphazardly against a wall, and Usopp’s half-finished contraptions littered his bunk. You began to organize, to fold, to put away. As you picked up a stray apron – a spare, clean one Sanji sometimes wore when things got particularly messy – a flicker of last night's memory pierced through your anger. He’d been wearing this very apron, leaning against the railing with you, stargazing. His arm had been around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder, pointing out constellations as the gentle sea breeze ruffled your hair. “Beautiful, aren’t they, Y/N-chan?” he’d murmured, and you knew he wasn't just talking about the stars. You crumpled the apron, tossing it into a laundry basket with unnecessary force.

The ship creaked around you, a silent witness to your fury. Each scrub, each wipe, each forceful rearrangement was an attempt to expel the acidic burn of betrayal, the unfamiliar pang of jealousy that gnawed at your gut. You cleaned with a vengeance, the silence of the ship a stark contrast to the storm brewing within you. You were scrubbing away the dirt, but what you really wanted to scrub away was the image of Sanji, smiling that soft, genuine smile at someone who wasn't you.

The Thousand Sunny glittered under the late afternoon sun, so bright it almost hurt the eyes. When the Straw Hats returned, laden with souvenirs, strange snacks, and tales of their island adventures, they stopped dead at the gangplank. The usual scuffs and faint grime of a ship constantly sailing the Grand Line were gone, replaced by a blinding, almost unnatural gleam.

"Woah! What happened?" Luffy's jaw dropped, his eyes wide as saucers.

"Is this... our ship?" Usopp squinted, reaching out a hesitant hand to touch the impossibly polished railing. "It's like a brand new ship!"

Franky, the shipwright, ran a hand over the spotless deck, a look of bewildered awe on his face. "Super... shiny!" Even Zoro paused, his brow furrowed in confusion, momentarily forgetting his perpetually lost state. Nami, ever practical, was already mentally calculating the cost of such meticulous cleaning. Robin, a soft smile playing on her lips, simply observed, her gaze moving from the ship's pristine exterior to the figure standing rigidly at the galley door.

Sanji, however, felt a chill that had nothing to do with the sea breeze. His usual flamboyant swagger faltered. His heart, which moments ago had been filled with the lingering scent of that other woman's perfume, now plummeted to his polished shoes. He had a deep, sinking feeling, a premonition that coiled in his gut like a venomous snake.

He knew this shine. He knew this meticulous, almost violent cleanliness. They had had this discussion, he and you, countless times. You’d always told him, with a wry, knowing smirk, "When I'm pissed, Sanji, I clean. And I clean."

He could feel the cold dread creeping up his spine, a sense of impending doom. He glanced at the others, still marveling at the immaculate ship. They were oblivious, blissfully unaware of the storm that was about to break. But he saw you, standing framed in the galley doorway, your posture stiff, your smile a terrifyingly thin line. Your eyes, usually warm and inviting, held a cold, unwavering intensity that made his blood run cold.

Oh, hell.

Sanji felt his very soul begin to detach, to float upwards, preparing for its inevitable departure. He knew, with absolute certainty, that he was not going to survive this.

The silence that had fallen over the Straw Hats as they gazed at their impossibly clean ship was shattered by the creak of the galley door. You emerged, a figure of daunting domesticity, looking less like a pirate and more like a warrior preparing for a chemical attack. You were armed with yellow rubber gloves pulled up to your elbows, a pristine white apron tied snugly over your clothes, a surgical mask obscuring half your face, and a hairnet tucked neatly under your cap. In one hand, a spray bottle gleamed; in the other, a meticulously folded microfiber towel.

Your eyes, sharp and unwavering over the top of your mask, swept across the crew, lingering for a fraction too long on Sanji. Then, with a practiced ease that sent shivers down his spine, you flashed them a chillingly bright smile. "Welcome back, everyone!" your voice was muffled but surprisingly cheerful. "I figured since you were all out enjoying the island, I'd take the opportunity to... deep clean a bit." You paused, your gaze still fixed on Sanji, who felt his soul preparing for its final descent. "Especially your rooms. Hope you don't mind. I didn't think you'd object to a little... tidying up."

The reactions were immediate and varied:

Luffy, ever the simpleton, bounced on the balls of his feet. "Awesome, Y/N! My room smells so good now!" He took a deep sniff, grinning. "Did you find any meat in there?"

Zoro grunted, adjusting his haramaki. "As long as you didn't move my swords." He looked vaguely uncomfortable with the sheer cleanliness, as if it threatened his natural habitat of mild disarray.

Nami's eyes narrowed, a flicker of suspicion crossing her face. She knew your habits, and this level of cleaning was off. "Are you feeling alright, Y/N? You're usually not this... diligent."

Usopp gulped, his eyes darting nervously between you and the immaculate ship. "Uh, thanks, Y/N! My workshop probably needed it... a lot. Hope you didn't accidentally throw out any of my inventions!"

Chopper whimpered slightly, clutching his hat. "Your eyes look a little scary, Y/N! Are you sick?"

Franky ran a hand over his shiny pompadour. "Super clean! Thanks, sis! Now the Sunny's even more of a super ship!"

Robin simply smiled, a knowing glint in her eyes. "How thoughtful of you, Y/N-chan. It looks absolutely sparkling." Her gaze drifted from your oddly serene face to Sanji, whose face had gone pale beneath his tan. She understood.

Sanji, meanwhile, could only stammer, feeling the full weight of your chillingly polite demeanor. His jaw worked, but no sound came out. He swallowed hard, knowing that the real storm was yet to come. His fate was sealed.

The Straw Hats continued to marvel at the ship’s pristine state, their awe slowly giving way to a cautious appreciation. Luffy was bouncing around, enjoying the smooth deck, while Nami meticulously inspected her tangerine trees, looking for any signs of over-cleaning. The air, usually thick with the scent of sea salt and adventure, now carried a faint, almost sterile freshness.

About an hour and a half later, as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, you finally shed your role as the ship’s furious cleaner. Still in your rubber gloves, apron, and hairnet, you caught Sanji’s eye from across the deck. His face was a mask of strained politeness, but his eyes, wide and apprehensive, pleaded for a moment alone. You gave a curt nod, turning on your heel and heading towards the secluded storage room near the stern, a place rarely visited by the rest of the crew.

Sanji followed, his steps unusually heavy. As he slipped inside, you slammed the door shut, the muffled thud echoing in the small space. The cheerful, almost manic energy you’d maintained all day snapped, replaced by a cold, simmering rage.

"Mind explaining yourself, Cook?" your voice was a low, dangerous whisper, barely audible above the gentle creak of the ship. Your hands, still encased in bright yellow rubber, clenched into fists at your sides.

Sanji flinched, running a hand through his hair. "Y-Y/N-chan! My darling, I didn't mean... she was just... a very appreciative lady!" He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice cracked on the last word.

"Appreciative?" you hissed, stepping closer, the spray bottle still clutched in your hand like a weapon. "She was practically draped over you, Sanji! And you—" you gestured wildly with the spray bottle, a mist of cleaner wafting between you— "you didn't even try to brush her off! You just… let her! For the entire day!"

"I was just being polite!" he whispered back, his voice rising in exasperation before he quickly lowered it again. "You know how I am with ladies! It's my nature! She just seemed so lonely, Y/N-chan, a beautiful flower in need of a kind word!"

"Lonely?" you scoffed, your anger sharpening into a painful edge. "And what about me, Sanji? What about our secret? What about the fact that we've been together for seven months and you're out there acting like a single man on the prowl? In front of me!"

His shoulders slumped. "It was... a lapse in judgment, Y/N-chan. I swear, it meant nothing! You know I love you! She doesn't even compare!" He took a tentative step towards you, reaching out a hand, but you instinctively recoiled.

"Oh, you love me?" you sneered, your voice laced with venom. "Because that’s exactly how you show it, isn't it? By making me watch you flirt with some random woman all day while I'm stuck here, pretending it doesn't bother me! You think I don't see the difference, Sanji? The way you look at them versus the way you looked at her? She laughed with you, Sanji! Not at you, not ignoring you, but with you!"

He recoiled as if struck. "Y/N, please! Don't you think I'm suffering enough? My soul has been trying to escape my body all afternoon, seeing this incredible, unprecedented shine on our ship! I know when you clean like this, it's a sign of a dark, terrible storm!" He wrung his hands, his eyes pleading. "I messed up! I admit it! Just... not in the cleaning uniform, Y/N-chan. It's... intimidating."

You stared at him, your chest heaving. The absurdity of your "cleaning uniform" in the midst of this heated, whispered argument almost made you laugh, but the hurt was too fresh, too sharp. "Intimidating?" you whispered, your voice cracking. "Good. Maybe you should be intimidated, Sanji. Because I'm not sure how much more of this I can take."

The air in the cramped storage room was thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Your whispered argument continued, a furious, desperate dance of hurt and defensiveness. You accused him of thoughtlessness, of disrespecting your shared secret, of making you feel foolish. He, in turn, pleaded for understanding, for forgiveness, promising endless devotion, even as his eyes darted nervously towards the closed door, ensuring no one outside could hear your hushed fury. Each sharp retort, each choked accusation, served only to deepen the tension, stretching the silence that eventually fell between you, taut and suffocating.

Sanji’s breath hitched. His eyes, usually dancing with playful flirtation, were now earnest, searching yours. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, his gaze sweeping over you from your hairnet-clad head to your rubber-gloved hands. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips, a flicker of his usual charming rogue breaking through his distress.

"You know," he murmured, his voice a low rumble, breaking the agonizing quiet. "I might actually be starting to like the cleaning uniform on you, Y/N-chan."

Before you could even process his outrageous, perfectly Sanji-esque comment, he charged. It wasn't a gentle approach, but a sudden, almost desperate lunge. He cupped your masked face in his gloved hands, pulling you forward. Your startled gasp was swallowed as his lips found yours, urgent and demanding. The taste of salt and something vaguely floral, from the cleaning spray, mingled with the familiar, intoxicating flavor of him.

It was a kiss born of tension and relief, of unspoken apologies and overwhelming desire. The rubber gloves, the apron, the hairnet – all faded into irrelevance as you melted into him, your own hands finding purchase on his suit jacket. The whispered argument was forgotten, replaced by the dizzying rush of the make-out session, a silent promise and a fervent plea in the dim light of the storage room.

The initial shock rippled through you, a fleeting jolt that quickly dissolved into something much deeper, much more primal. His lips, initially demanding, now moved with a familiar tenderness that stirred a fierce hunger within you. Your hands, still encased in the bright yellow rubber gloves, found purchase on his lapels, pulling him closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The cleaning uniform, once a symbol of your furious anger, now felt like an absurd second skin, a barrier you were eager to shed.

His hand, warm even through the fabric of your apron, traced the curve of your back before dipping lower, fumbling with the ties of your apron. You gasped into the kiss as the knot loosened, the apron falling away with a soft whisper of cotton against the floor. The mask, now forgotten, was pushed up by the angle of the kiss, catching in your hairnet, a comical detail lost in the escalating heat.

You broke the kiss for a moment, breathless, your eyes locking with his. The unspoken words of anger and frustration still hung in the air, but they were being swiftly suffocated by a more urgent need. His eyes, usually half-lidded in flirtation, were now dark with desire, reflecting your own unmasked longing.

"Sanji," you breathed, your voice husky, your fingers already working at the buttons of his vest. He groaned, a low, guttural sound as your touch ignited a fresh wave of intensity. He pulled away just enough to tear off his own suit jacket, tossing it haphazardly onto a stack of crates. His tie followed, a quick, practiced movement.

With renewed fervor, his lips descended again, hungrier this time. You tangled your gloved fingers in his golden hair, pulling him impossibly closer as his free hand found the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingertips brushing against your skin. The cool air of the storage room suddenly felt stifling, the space shrinking around you both as the last vestiges of anger burned away, replaced by the blazing fire of long-suppressed passion. The ship, once a witness to your rage, now creaked softly, a silent accomplice to the secret unfolding within its hidden depths.

The storage room, already stifling, grew even warmer with the escalating passion. His hands, no longer fumbling, were now confidently under your shirt, the cool metal of his rings a stark contrast against the sudden heat of your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as his thumbs grazed your ribs, sending shivers through you. Your own hands were busy, tugging at the crisp fabric of his dress shirt, desperate to feel more of him. The anger that had fueled your cleaning frenzy was now a distant memory, completely eclipsed by the overwhelming desire that coursed through your veins.

You pressed closer, the sounds of the ship outside fading into an indistinct hum as your world narrowed to just the two of you, consumed by the frantic rhythm of your shared breathing. The air thickened, charged with the intoxicating scent of his cologne, of salt, and of something uniquely him. Your lips were bruised and swollen, your body alight, every touch igniting a deeper spark.

Just as the intensity reached an almost unbearable peak, a sudden, jarring sound shattered the moment. The door, previously a silent barrier, slammed open with a resounding thud.

The harsh light from the deck flooded the small, dark room, illuminating the scene in stark, unforgiving detail. Frozen in a desperate embrace, shirt undone, hairnet askew, you and Sanji whipped your heads towards the intrusion.

And there he stood.

Zoro.

His swords were still sheathed, but his hand rested on their hilt. His face, usually a mask of indifference or a scowl, was now a portrait of bewildered shock. His eyes, wide and unblinking, scanned from your disheveled form to Sanji's equally undone state, before finally landing on the rubber gloves still firmly gripping his own shirt. The air in the room, already heavy, became impossibly thick with unspoken words and the sudden, devastating realization that all secrets were out.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, punctuated only by the distant lapping of waves against the hull. Zoro's eyes, usually narrowed in perpetual annoyance or battle focus, were wide, scanning the incriminating scene. His gaze moved from your startled face, still wearing the slightly askew hairnet and rubber gloves, to Sanji, half-undressed, his perpetually lovestruck expression replaced by pure, unadulterated horror.

A slow, derisive smirk began to spread across Zoro's face, replacing the initial shock. He hooked a thumb into his belt, leaning casually against the doorframe, effectively blocking any escape.

"Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice a low, mocking rumble that cut through the tension like a dull blade. "Look what the current dragged in. Didn't realize the love-cook was finally aiming a little higher than his usual pathetic attempts." His eyes flickered to you, a glint of genuine surprise mixed with his usual antagonism. "Though, honestly, Y/N... I thought you had better taste than this curly-browed pervert. You're clearly out of his league."

He let the words hang in the air, a barb aimed squarely at Sanji's inflated ego, then pushed himself off the doorframe. Without another word, without waiting for a reply, he simply reached out and, with a soft thud, pulled the door shut, plunging the storage room back into dimness and leaving you and Sanji in the suffocating aftermath of his discovery.

The click of the latch echoed in the sudden quiet, a death knell for your secret. You stared at the closed door, heart pounding, adrenaline surging through your veins. The heat of the moment had evaporated, replaced by a cold wave of mortification. Your face, already flushed from the kiss, burned even hotter with embarrassment. You were utterly, completely busted.

Sanji, however, was already reacting, his initial panic quickly morphing into furious indignation. He hadn't even processed the full implication of being caught, not when Zoro's words were still ringing in his ears.

"OUT OF MY LEAGUE?!" he shrieked, his voice a furious whisper-yell, completely forgetting their precarious situation. He gestured wildly at the closed door, as if Zoro were still standing there. "That moss-headed brute! How dare he?! My Y/N-chan is the most beautiful, most exquisite lady on this entire Grand Line! He just doesn't understand true beauty when he sees it!" He puffed out his chest, completely missing your wide, panicked eyes. "And I am a gentleman of the highest caliber! To imply that I'm not worthy of my darling Y/N-chan is an insult to my very being, my honor, my entire culinary philosophy!"

You stared at him, torn between utter disbelief and a desperate need to bang your head against the nearest wall. Here you were, caught in a profoundly compromising position, your relationship exposed, and Sanji's primary concern was Zoro's insult to his perceived attractiveness and your supposed "league."

"Sanji!" you hissed, finally finding your voice, grabbing his arm. "Never mind your pride right now! Zoro just saw us! He knows! The whole crew is going to know by dinner!" The reality of the situation crashed down on you with a sickening lurch. There was no hiding it now. Your secret, so carefully guarded for seven months, had been blown wide open by the most unlikely of culprits.

"Sanji!" you hissed again, your voice rising in a panic, completely overriding his indignant squawks about Zoro. "Forget your stupid pride right now! Zoro just saw us! He knows! The whole crew is going to know by dinner!" You tore off the offending rubber gloves, flinging them across the room, then frantically pulled at your hairnet. "Oh my god, what are we going to do? Nami's going to demand to know everything! Robin will just give us that knowing look! Luffy's going to make some stupid comment about 'Sanji and Y/N's secret love nest' or something equally embarrassing! Franky's going to build a love sauna!" The scenarios flashed through your mind, each one more mortifying than the last. "This is a disaster, Sanji! A complete and utter disaster!"

Sanji, for his part, finally seemed to register the full weight of your words. The indignant flush drained from his face, replaced by a ghastly, ghost-white pallor. His eyes widened, and he swayed slightly, the image of Zoro's derisive smirk flashing before his eyes. He pictured Nami's calculating stare, Usopp's dramatic gasps, Chopper's innocent confusion, and even Franky's potential "love sauna" idea. For a terrifying second, the world seemed to tilt on its axis, and he felt a cold dread colder than any ocean current. His carefully constructed persona, his chivalrous mask, his secret world with you—all of it teetering on the brink of chaotic exposure.

Then, a surprising calmness settled over him. It was as if the shock had finally jolted him out of his self-pity and into a more protective, resolute state. He took a deep, steadying breath, his golden eyebrow furrowing with determination.

He reached out, taking your still-trembling hands in his, his grip firm and reassuring. "Hey. Hey, Y/N. Look at me." His voice, though still a whisper, was now steady, imbued with a newfound strength. "It's okay."

You stared at him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "How can you say that? It's not okay! Our secret is out! Our private thing, Sanji, it's—"

"I know," he interrupted softly, squeezing your hands. "And yes, Zoro's an idiot. And yes, the others might be a little… surprised." He even managed a faint, reassuring smile. "But listen to me, my beautiful Y/N. This is our relationship. Our love. What does it matter if that moss-headed moron saw us? Or if the others find out? If they laugh, we'll deal with it. If they question, we'll answer."

He pulled you closer, ignoring the slight crunch of your discarded apron under his feet. "We've faced down admirals, Yonko, literal gods! We can handle a few surprised crewmates. Besides," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, "now we don't have to hide anymore. Maybe... maybe this isn't a disaster, Y/N. Maybe this is a new adventure for us."

His words, delivered with such unexpected calm and conviction, slowly began to soothe the frantic beating of your heart. You leaned into him, still trembling, but a fragile sense of relief began to unfurl within you.

The hours leading up to dinner felt like an eternity. You spent them in a state of agitated anticipation, pacing the deck, replaying Zoro's stunned expression, and imagining every conceivable reaction from the crew. Sanji, ever the devoted partner, stayed by your side, a calming presence amidst your rising panic. He offered soft reassurances, brewed you calming herbal teas, and even tried to distract you with gentle touches and whispered compliments, but the knot of anxiety in your stomach refused to loosen.

Now, as the aroma of Sanji’s cooking filled the air, the moment of truth had arrived. Everyone was seated around the long dining table in the galley, their usual boisterous energy subdued by an unspoken tension. The clinking of cutlery, the soft lapping of the waves against the ship, and the gentle creaks of the Sunny filled the silence.

Your eyes, wide and darting, were fixed on Zoro, who sat across the table, seemingly engrossed in his sake. Every slight movement, every flicker of his eyes, sent a fresh wave of dread through you. Had he told them yet? Was this strained silence the calm before the storm? You barely touched the delicious food on your plate, your appetite completely gone.

Sanji, usually a whirlwind of graceful movement as he served, was unusually stiff. He moved around the table, meticulously placing plates, his back ramrod straight. His usual flamboyant "Nami-swaaan!" and "Robin-chwaaan!" were noticeably absent, replaced by quiet, almost mechanical movements. His head was turned slightly, his single visible eye constantly tracking Zoro, a silent, desperate plea for discretion in his gaze. He kept glancing at you too, a fleeting, worried look passing between you two each time. The air in the galley was so thick with unaddressed tension, you could practically cut it with a knife.

The silence at dinner was a heavy, suffocating blanket, but it was Zoro who decided to rip it off. He'd been quieter than usual all day, a rare occurrence for him, and you’d hoped he'd simply forgotten or, even better, decided to keep his mouth shut. You were wrong. His usual stoicism was replaced by a mischievous glint in his eye, a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He took a deliberate sip of his sake, then leaned back in his chair, his voice cutting through the tension with a casual, almost bored tone.

"Funny," Zoro began, his gaze drifting lazily around the room before settling on Sanji, who was meticulously plating Nami's food. "I figured with all the... extra work being done on this ship today, someone would be a little more relaxed by now."

Sanji's hand, holding a serving spoon, visibly twitched. He kept his back to Zoro, feigning deep concentration on the perfect arrangement of vegetables. You, however, felt a cold dread trickle down your spine.

Luffy, oblivious, chimed in, "Extra work? What extra work, Zoro? The ship's just super clean!"

"Yeah, but why would that make someone 'relaxed'?" Usopp pondered, scratching his head.

Zoro ignored them, his eyes now finding yours across the table. You stiffened, forcing yourself to maintain a blank expression, though your heart hammered against your ribs. "Or maybe," he continued, a sharper edge to his voice, "some people just need a good, thorough scrubbing to get all the tension out." He paused, taking another long drink of sake, his gaze never leaving you. "Even if they need a little help with it."

Sanji nearly dropped the serving platter. He spun around, a vein throbbing in his temple, his glare a silent warning to Zoro. "What are you even talking about, Moss-Head?! Are you feeling alright?"

"He's probably just drunk already," Nami sighed, rolling her eyes. "Ignore him, Sanji-kun."

But Zoro wasn't done. He set his empty sake cup down with a deliberate clink. "Just saying," he drawled, pushing back from the table, a shark-like grin spreading across his face, "some people clean very thoroughly when they're angry. And some people apparently need a little... motivation to clean up their act." He rose, stretching languidly, his eyes locking with Sanji's. "Wouldn't you agree, Cook?"

Chopper looked up, bewildered. "Are you talking about cleaning, Zoro? But Y/N did all the cleaning!"

Robin simply took a sip of her tea, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips, her gaze flitting between you and Sanji.

Sanji’s face had gone a shade of deep purple, a stark contrast to his earlier ghostly pallor. His lips were pressed into a thin, trembling line. You, meanwhile, could feel the blood draining from your own face. The thinly veiled hints, the pointed remarks – they were like daggers, each one confirming that Zoro knew, and was enjoying every agonizing moment of your collective discomfort. This wasn't just teasing. This was a deliberate, slow-motion exposure, and the silence that followed Zoro's final jab was deafening.

The air in the galley grew heavier, thicker than the deepest ocean trench. Your fork pushed a single pea around your plate, your appetite completely vanished. You, usually a lively presence at dinner, were now unnervingly quiet, your silence a stark contrast to the buzzing tension. Sanji, meanwhile, continued to hover, serving food with a forced politeness, his usual exuberant flirtations with Nami and Robin entirely absent. He wouldn't even meet their eyes, let alone offer a sweet remark.

Zoro, emboldened by your and Sanji's obvious discomfort, seemed to relish his role as the master of ceremonies for your impending doom. His earlier hints, subtle as a brick, now became outright suggestions, aimed with pinpoint accuracy.

"You know," Zoro mused, taking another loud slurp of his sake, his eyes fixed on you and Sanji. "It's funny. You two have always been so... close. Always in each other's space." He paused, a smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't realize how close that actually was, though. Seems like someone found a new way to get their daily dose of affection."

Sanji's head snapped up, his eye twitching. "What in the blue blazes are you implying, you miserable marimo?!" he seethed, his voice a low growl that barely contained his rage.

"Oh, no implication, Cook," Zoro drawled, shrugging nonchalantly. "Just an observation. Especially after seeing a certain cook and a certain cleaner getting a little... hands-on in the storage room today."

The words hung in the air like a guillotine.

A collective gasp rippled through the table.

Luffy's eyes, usually full of food, now widened to comedic proportions. "EH?! Sanji and Y/N?! In the storage room?! Doing what?!"

Usopp choked on his rice, sputtering, "No way! You mean... like, together together?!"

Nami's fork clattered loudly onto her plate. Her expression, usually composed, twisted into a mixture of disbelief and dawning realization. Her gaze snapped between you and Sanji, suddenly understanding the day's abnormal quietness, the frantic cleaning, Sanji's uncharacteristic lack of flirting. "Sanji-kun... Y/N..." she breathed, her voice barely a whisper.

Chopper looked completely lost, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Storage room? Were you helping Y/N clean, Sanji? Was it really messy?"

Franky stared, his mouth slightly agape, before a slow, knowing grin began to spread across his face. "SUUUUPER... intimate cleaning, huh?"

Robin simply placed a hand over her mouth, her eyes glinting with amusement and a quiet triumph, having seemingly pieced it all together long ago.

You, however, felt the blood drain from your face, then rush back in a furious blush. Your earlier fear was replaced by a wave of mortification so intense you wished the floor would swallow you whole. Sanji, meanwhile, had gone from purple to a deep, incandescent red. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, trying to formulate a denial, a defense, anything. But Zoro's final, damning statement had obliterated all pretense, laying your most carefully guarded secret bare for the entire, shocked crew.

Zoro, having clearly had enough of his own subtle artistry, scoffed, a look of triumphant exasperation on his face. He leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms, and delivered the final blow, his voice devoid of its earlier teasing, replaced by a blunt, almost bored declaration.

"Alright, fine, you morons," he grunted, looking pointedly at Luffy and Usopp. "I saw the Cook and Y/N making out in the storage room. Happy now?"

The silence that followed was absolute, heavier than a cannonball dropped into still water.

Luffy was the first to break it, his mouth agape, eyes wide as saucers. "WOAH! Sanji and Y/N are making out?!" His head snapped between you and Sanji, a slow, incredulous grin spreading across his face. "Does that mean you're... together?!"

Usopp pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, his jaw practically on the table. "You mean... the cleaning was just a cover?!" He looked utterly betrayed by the mundane nature of your secret.

Nami gasped, her eyes narrowed, a mixture of shock and a flicker of something akin to hurt. "Sanji-kun! Y/N! How long?!" She thumped a fist on the table, demanding answers. "And why didn't you tell us?!"

Chopper whimpered, pulling his hat over his eyes. "Does this mean they're going to... leave the crew to be together?!" The innocent fear of losing nakama was clear in his voice.

Franky let out a booming laugh, slapping the table. "SUUUUPER SECRET LOVE AFFAIR! I knew it! The romantic tension was off the charts! This calls for a celebration!"

Robin simply smiled, a serene, knowing expression on her face. "Indeed. It was quite obvious to those who observed closely."

Sanji, however, was a statue. Zoro's bluntness had finally broken him. His face, which had been bright red, now went a patchy, mottled white. He stared at Zoro, then at the gaping faces of his crewmates, then at you. His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, like a fish out of water. The shame of being exposed, coupled with the sheer audacity of Zoro's revelation, paralyzed him. His hands began to tremble, and a small, almost imperceptible plume of smoke started to curl from his perpetually lit cigarette. He looked utterly, completely devastated that his private world with you had been so crudely laid bare.

You, on the other hand, felt a strange mix of relief and lingering mortification. The cat was out of the bag, no turning back now. You met Zoro's gaze, a flicker of defiance in your eyes, then turned to face the rest of the crew. Your voice, though still a little shaky, held a newfound resolve.

"Yes," you said, taking a deep breath, looking from Luffy's goofy grin to Nami's stern expression, to Chopper's worried face. "Yes, we are. We've been together for about seven months." You shot a glare at Sanji, who was still in a state of shock. "And we didn't tell you because... well, because it's our business, and we weren't sure how to bring it up in the middle of fighting pirates and saving islands."

A flurry of questions erupted then, a cacophony of voices demanding answers:

"Seven months?!"

"Is that why Y/N was cleaning like a maniac today?!"

"Does this mean you're getting married?!"

"Are you going to be all mushy now?!"

"Were you really making out in the storage room?!"

The dam had broken.

The galley, usually a scene of boisterous camaraderie, had transformed into an interrogation room. A barrage of questions, fired from every corner of the table, assaulted you and Sanji.

"So, like, how long have you two been doing this?!" Luffy's voice, always loud, cut through the din.

"Seven months," you repeated, feeling your cheeks burn. "Since that island with the singing clams." You shot Sanji a look, a silent agreement to keep the details of your first kiss to yourselves.

"Seven months?!" Nami shrieked, slamming her hand on the table. "You mean you've been keeping this from us for seven months?!" Her eyes narrowed, suddenly sharper than any blade. "And what about that woman today, Sanji-kun?! The one you were practically drooling over all day?!"

Sanji, finally regaining a sliver of his composure, puffed out his chest, though a nervous sweat beaded on his forehead. "Nami-swaan! My affections for all ladies are pure and untainted! She was simply a damsel in need of—"

"A damsel in need of a good shove off the island, maybe!" you interjected, glaring at him. The memory of his prolonged flirtation, and her reciprocal interest, still stung. "That's why I went back to the ship, Nami. I was pissed."

Nami's eyes widened, then a slow, knowing smile spread across her face. Her gaze flickered between you and Sanji, then to the impeccably clean galley. "Aha!" she exclaimed, snapping her fingers. "So that's why the ship is sparkling! You weren't feeling sick, Y/N, you were just furious with Sanji-kun for being a love-struck idiot!"

Sanji flinched, shrinking slightly under Nami's accusatory gaze. "My dear Nami-swaan, I would never—"

"Oh, you would, Sanji!" you shot back, jabbing a finger in his direction. "You did! And then Zoro walked in on us making up!"

Zoro, who had been quietly enjoying the chaos he'd unleashed, snorted. "Making up, huh? Looked more like you were trying to strangle him with that hairnet."

"So you two are... dating?!" Usopp stammered, still processing the sheer magnitude of the revelation. "Like, proper boyfriend and girlfriend?"

"Is this going to change anything?" Chopper asked timidly, his big eyes filled with concern. "Are you still going to be our nakama?"

You reached across the table, taking Chopper's hoof in your hand. "Of course, Chopper! Nothing changes. We're still your nakama. This just means... well, it means we're a couple."

Sanji, regaining some of his chivalrous swagger, though still visibly nervous, cleared his throat. "Indeed! My heart, though overflowing with devotion for all you lovely ladies, now beats with an even deeper, profound love for my Y/N-chan!" He bowed theatrically, then risked a glance at you, a hopeful plea in his eyes.

The questions continued to fly, a whirlwind of curiosity and mild disbelief. You and Sanji, a united front in your new, exposed reality, did your best to answer, stumbling over details, occasionally bickering, but always, always facing the crew together. The awkwardness lingered, thick and palpable, but beneath it, a new layer was slowly being woven into the fabric of the Straw Hat Pirates – one of accepted, if surprising, romance.

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #straw hat pirates #straw hats #straw hats x reader #one piece angst #angst with comfort #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #op sanji #one piece sanji #suggestive

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sanjisleggy · 6 months ago

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imagine being loved by me (black leg sanji x reader) [pt2]

a/n: here’s part 2 to ‘welcome to cupid island’ :D yippee! lowkey i wanna turn this into a larger series but i have no idea what i'd wanna add lmao but if people are interested in more of this reader x sanji dynamic i’d be happy to consider :3c imma add a poll at the end of this post to see what’s the reception like. anyway pls enjoy!

contents: some suggestive themes but nothing explicit (16+ only ty!), jealous sanji, very insecure sanji, angst to fluff, hurt/reverse comfort

wc. 2.25k

wanna be on my taglist?

PART 1

he imagines you would have an amazing life.

he imagines after you accept the proposal, you would be transformed into a beautiful queen, both regaled by your countless servants and beloved by your people. he can practically see right in front of him how King Aphr would worship the very ground you walked on, kiss the soles of your feet and the palms of your soft hands every night before ravishing you under the sheets until your eyes fill with tears of pleasure–things a mere pirate cook could never provide.

he imagines in a few years you would have two beautiful children: a girl and a boy, of course. they would be spitting images of you–or maybe one of them would have their father’s fluffy brown hair or gorgeous eyes. whatever the genetic combination, Sanji doesn’t doubt they would be absolutely beautiful solely because they came from you.

he imagines you living the life you deserve above everyone else on this godforsaken planet: happy, loved and safe from the dangers that come with life on the sea. you’d live a long life and be left wanting for nothing.

it’s a life Sanji cannot give you.

“oh. no, thanks.” your response to the kneeling crown prince is curt with your mouth hidden behind your hand to obscure the fact that you’re mid-chew. “i’m not interested.”

the matter-of-factness of your tone rips Sanji straight out of his self-deprecating nightmare as his head snaps in your direction. still holding his hand, you give it a soft squeeze as you maintain eye contact with your latest suitor. the entire restaurant is dead silent and even the wait staff are frozen in place, trays of freshly prepared gourmet food left to slowly cool before they can even be touched.

the Prince doesn’t hide his disappointment but he takes it better than any of the Straw Hats anticipated. if anything, they were all prepared for a fight but instead, the man simply apologises for disrupting your dinner and takes his leave. once he’s gone, you swallow your food before turning to meet Sanji’s eyes with your own. you can’t help but feel a pang in your chest when you see how teary he looks; you give his hand another squeeze before bringing the back of it to your lips and give him a soft kiss.

“we can talk about this later,” is the message your eyes convey to him and he nods in response.

although business gradually goes back to normal and the usual dining room chatter resumes, you and your group finish the rest of your meal with an odd sense of awkwardness encompassing the establishment. much to your–and Sanji’s–pleasure, however, it seems that your rejection of the Prince’s proposal is enough to ward off any other suitors, at least for the rest of dinner.

ii.

whilst some of your crewmates opt to sleep in early or explore the night market, you and your usual group of drinking buddies head to the hotel’s bar. out of habit, you find a table with four seats for Nami, Robin, Zoro and yourself, though you soon realise your mistake when you notice Sanji’s still holding onto your hand.

“what? not gonna chase skirts tonight, shitty cook?” Zoro speaks your mind. the blond chef’s grip on your hand tightens slightly.

“no, of course not, you stupid mosshead.” Sanji doesn’t elaborate any further but everyone knows the reason why: news of your rejection of the Prince hasn’t spread far enough yet, it seems, and already new faces are peering your way, presents in hand.

less than an hour passes and you’re not the only person who’s been approached by suitors: every one of your Straw Hat companions has been accosted at least three times. you try to keep count but eventually lose track when you reach double digits.

“it seems like they’re more desperate as the week comes to an end,” Robin observes, mumbling into her glass after turning down her fifteenth admirer.

“desperate’s putting it lightly,” Zoro replies, growing more visibly annoyed as the minutes pass and he can’t seem to enjoy one drink without a man or woman shyly sneaking up on him with more homemade cookies. “they’re even going after the shitty cook, they must be more than desperate,” he adds with a snort, clearly happy to take up any opportunity possible to rile up your boyfriend.

though you can tell Zoro’s ‘joke’ bugs him, Sanji remains quiet, opting to just shoot the swordsman a sharp glare from across the round table.

“here comes another one,” Nami groans, praying she’s not the target.

unfortunately for you, her wish comes true.

Zoro’s guard dog comparison from earlier in the day rings true yet again when the man taps your shoulder to get your attention. before you can even turn to look at what they look like, Sanji’s head snaps around first. although there’s an unmistakable look of pure rage in his eyes as he scowls at the man that makes the suitor almost instantly break out into a cold sweat, the cook’s grip on your hand remains the same gentleness as always.

“fuck off!” Sanji barks, subtlety be damned. your companions each react in a similar manner, choking on their respective drinks to some degree. you even catch Zoro murmuring to himself, “goddamn.” valuing his life, the stranger turns tail and disappears in a matter of seconds.

half a minute passes and the same bitter expression is stuck to your beloved’s face. your free hand reaches up to his head before you run your fingers through his soft hair. the gesture alone seems enough to snap him back to reality as his scowl melts away to be replaced by a small smile. Sanji closes his eyes and lets out a breath, tensed shoulders relaxing as you continue to caress his head. your hand slowly trails down his face before stopping to rest on his shoulder, your palm wrapped around the base of his neck, thumb rubbing along the edge of his sharp jawline.

your gentle ministrations send his heart into overdrive, the fragile organ threatening to beat so fast and so hard that it shatters his ribcage into nothingness. despite having known you for so long, he can’t ever seem to get used to your love.

“what a coincidence seeing you here, miss (Y/N),” a familiar voice speaks from behind you. from the looks on your crewmates’ faces, you can already tell you’re not the only one sick and tired of this island’s tradition. before anyone–even Sanji–can react to the blatant interruption, you stand up abruptly and turn around to face Prince Aphr. donning a smile, he’s dressed differently than when you first met him at dinner but his expensive clothes only serve to annoy you even further.

“i’ll only say this one more time, your highness,” you say through gritted teeth, days’ worth of built up irritation finally spilling over the edge and the unlucky target of your wrath just has to be the son of the ruler of the island–but you find it hard to care. “i’m not interested and i’ll never be interested. now, please leave me and my friends alone.”

Sanji stares up at you from his seat with his eyes wide and lips slightly parted. the last time you looked this angry was when an enemy pirate kicked Chopper like a soccer ball–and you’d gone on an absolute rampage back then. however, it seems that due to Prince Aphr’s lack of experience witnessing such devastation, he chooses to press on. as much as Sanji would love to diable jambe his royal ass, both him and the rest of the Straw Hats present at the table know you’re fully capable of handling this yourself.

“may i at least ask what it might take for you to even consider my proposal?” the prince asks. he’s either an extremely convincing actor or he’s genuinely so dense he doesn’t actually realise you’re in a relationship with the man right beside you.

“nothing.” your response seems to take him aback. “you could offer me the entire world on a silver platter and my answer would still be the same. my family is my crew and i’ve already met the love of my life.”

Sanji realises at that moment that a small part of him expected you to give an answer the prince could fulfill. when the finality of your words hits him, he can’t help the tears welling up in his eyes as his heart sinks to impossibly low depths.

you said it all with such ease, so little effort. have i ever done the same for you? what kind of man have i been?

iii.

Sanji twiddles his thumbs as he sits on the king sized bed, listening intently to the sound of the shower running. when it stops and he hears the slight creak of the shower door opening, he’s overcome with a great sense of anxiety, knowing that time will not stop just because he needs more time to gather his thoughts.

a few minutes later, you exit from the bathroom in a fluffy white robe, the smell of your shampoo washing over the entire hotel room. with a satisfied hum, you crawl across the bed to sit beside him.

“so,” you say gently as you grab one of his hands to play with his long fingers, “you wanna talk about anything?” the moment his eyes meet yours, all the words he painstakingly prepared to say slip right through his fingers.

you’re so beautiful.

Sanji opens his mouth but is unable to speak, he can only breathe and stare as you patiently wait for him to let everything out.

i don’t deserve you.

you tilt your head slightly and hum, as though trying to remind him that you’re still there. you look at him with such pure adoration, he wonders if you’re even looking at him.

but i want you and i want your love more than anything. so please–

“don’t leave me,” Sanji finally manages to choke out, hot tears now streaming down his face. days’ worth of anger and worry finally catches up to him and he can’t do anything but slump forward to bury his face in your midsection. his lanky arms curl around your waist in a desperate attempt to hold you there, just in case you decide you don’t want him anymore.

“hey, who said anything about leaving you, my sweet boy?” you say with a light chuckle but it does nothing to hide the heaviness in your voice. you wrap your arms around his head, hugging him closer to your stomach as he sobs into your bathrobe. running your fingers of one hand through his hair just the way he likes, you continue, “what makes you think that?”

“Prince Aphr can give you everything.” Sanji pulls his head away just enough to speak clearly but not far enough to break away from your warm embrace. “and i can’t. up until we arrived here–ever since we started dating–i couldn’t even stop flirting with women right in front of you and for what?!”

you shush him when he starts to raise his voice and you feel his fingers tighten their grip on the back of your bathrobe. “it’s okay–”

“no, it’s not,” he cuts you off. “how am i supposed to call myself yours if i can’t even treat you with the respect you deserve? i’m sorry, (Y/N), i’m so sorry i took for granted how open you are with the way i am around other women. just seeing the way so many people wanted to steal you away these past few days, and how you turned them all down, made me realise i’ve been a shitty boyfriend–”

deciding that you’ve heard enough, you lean back to separate his face from your body and use your hands to gently tilt his head up so that your eyes meet. Sanji stares almost pitifully up at you, his own hands still holding on for dear life onto your robe as his long legs splay out behind him across the large bed.

“you’re far from a shitty boyfriend, my love,” you sniffle, feeling tears of your own forming in your eyes, “you take such good care of me. you feed me anything i want, fuss over me when i’m sick, protect me in battle. you always let me shower first aboard the Sunny so i get all the hot water.” cupping his face in between your palms, you rub the pads of your thumbs across his cheeks, wiping away his tears. “you look at me like i hung the stars and the moon in the sky,” you say with a choked laugh, unable to help feeling a bit embarrassed admitting such a thing aloud, “sometimes i don’t even know how to live up to that.”

Sanji takes in a shaky breath as he nuzzles his face into your right hand so you lightly scratch his scalp with your left. the sensation pleases him so much he swears he nearly starts purring.

“how did i get so lucky?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“how did i get so lucky?” you reply with a laugh before leaning down to brush your lips against his forehead.

already Sanji feels the aching in his heart slowly fade away, leaving behind a soreness that’s sure to persist but he’s certain that it, too, will disappear over time as long as you’re by his side.

–

tags: @mlpandr63 @wifeofladyqu @strawberrysanzu @qui-sap @secretlife028 @the-avengers-not-the-nazis @peachycat17 @xiaothedgyemo @chaseyui @certain-tragedies @amei-draws-stuff @carmen-skullz @cobainlover @lara-christensen-me @shondlenoodle @teewon @makingmammonmoves @carmendanny2

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x yn #one piece x you #op x reader #imagine #fanfic #op #sanji x reader #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #black leg sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla x reader #one piece live action x reader

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fanaticsnail · 8 months ago

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Exhibitionism: Trafalgar Law

Birthday Celebration Masterlist

Word Count: 4,100+

Themes: Law x afab!reader, mdni, NSFW, 18+, smut, fingering, praise, public, no prior relationship, masturbation, education, medical malpractice, (witnesses present: Shachi, Penguin, and Bepo), consent asked multiple times, medical talk, vaginal exam.

Notes: This is day 2 of my celebration event. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Disclaimer: I am not a doctor, please excuse any inaccuracies.

When Ikkaku approached you with a coin from your captain’s prized collection, your brows knit together in puzzlement. She had this look in her eye, one that held something hidden behind her usual disgruntled expression that held you intrigued. Head lulling to the side, she pursed her lips and asked you her question.

“Heads or tails?”

Shaking your head softly, you gave her more of a confused smile than anything else. With a soft shrug, and an assumption in your mind regarding chore rotation, you simply pouted while uttering your answer.

“Tails, I guess?”

With a mischievous smirk, Ikkaku flicked the shiny object in the air with a skilled roll of her thumb. Catching it mid-air, she swatted it and held it firmly within a cupped grip on her forearm. Eyes darting between yours, her smile grew ever wider the longer she held your attention.

“Don't want to reconsider?” she taunted you, “Last chance to change your answer, hon. Still going with tails?”

“I like my odds, and tails is my favorite” you smile warmly at her, “They're always more intricately carved, and their patterns are pretty.” She nods, tugging away her hand and revealing the side facing the roof of the tang to you both.

“Would you look at that! You win,” she chuckled, reaching the coin forward and gently offering it out for you to take, “Give this to the captain when you go on in to see him. He's expecting one of us, and I'm so fucking glad it's you.” She seemed to breathe out a sigh of relief at that last statement, her cheeks falling a little as she feels a weight flee from her shoulders.

You cocked your head at her response, darting your eyes between hers before you apprehensively took the coin from her hands.

“What the fuck did I just agree to?” you giggle a little, unsure of what would phase your crewmate so much that she'd breathe out this much relief, “Some sick and twisted chore?”

“Nah, nothin’ like that,” she giggled, giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze, “Captain needed a volunteer for a lesson he wanted to teach some of the crew, is all.” She gently waved you off, giving you that grin filled with mischief that had your skin ignite with goose flesh.

Shrugging off your nerves, you ponder what mysterious lesson needed your person in that only you or Ikkaku would be able to serve under.

Whatever you concocted in your mind, nothing prepared you for where you found yourself. Splayed out in the medical bay, legs in stirrups, and made comfortable by pillows tucked behind your head, and a weighted blanket kindly placed over your stomach to grant you some comfort within the issue at hand: Captain Trafalgar Law was giving three of the crew a lesson on anatomy. Your body as his guide, he had his nylon gloves tugged over his wrists as he gently pointed out several areas of your pussy to your crewmates.

“The labia majora and the labia minora are a part of what is commonly referred to as ‘the vulva’,” Law’s low tone and dry voice caused you to internally shake your head and roll your eyes, but externally remaining still so he could deliver more of his lecture, “This also includes the urethra, vagina, and glans clitoris. Any questions?”

“What is the main function of the clitoris?” Bepo’s voice bashfully rose his question through a shy mumble, “What does it do?” Snickers from Shachi and Penguin were hastily silenced by a look Law shot them, his eyes piercing them more precisely than his blade ever could.

“The clitoris is where most owners of vaginas often source their pleasure,” Law explained without fluctuation in his cadence, “For many, it is the most common cornerstone of their orgasm. Only a small fraction is external, the majority of the clitoris is internal. Stimulating the clitoris is usually the final leg to achieving an orgasm. Any other questions, or should I move on-?”

“-The fuck you mean it's internal? Like the G-spot?” Shachi spoke over Law, cutting him off and relating his concern. Law sighed, clamping his eyes shut and taking a small breath of agitation.

“Both yes, and no. It's currently under debate as to what part of the network the G-spot is: whether it's a part of the vagina, or if it's the underside of the clitoris,” Law spoke, resting his hand on your exposed thigh.

You try not to tense up as you stare at the ceiling and think on the dinner menu, the cleaning rotation, the timetable for overnight shift, and what time to set your alarm in the morning. Anything other than four of your crewmates staring at your pussy, and attempting to ignore the way your Captain's authoritarian dictation was affecting you. Anything other than the embarrassment of getting aroused at each soft and intentional poke and prod to your cunt, paired with the dry delivery of medical speech.

“Now, let's talk internally,” Law cut through the silence, gently moving his warm hands towards your core and using the heels of his palm to divide your walls and expose your entrance. “The alley towards the cervix-.”

“-Captain, I'm sorry to interrupt your lecture,” Bepo’s voice spoke quietly once more, “But I have more questions about the clitoris. When you say it's the most common source for the orgasm, can you explain anything else about it? I-... I just want to learn, I'm sorry.” You purse your lips and attempt to suppress a soft coo at Bepo’s sweetness.

Law was less enthusiastic about the interruption, but halted his explanation to satisfy the curiosity of the polar-bear mink.

“The clitoris has three parts to it,” you felt his hands move up, the heel of his palm at the base of your abdomen, pushing up the skin and exposing more of you to your crewmates, “See here? I’m pushing the clitoral hood back to reveal this smaller organ hidden beneath? That is an extremely sensitive part of the vaginal anatomy. When stimulated, the vagina will self-lubricate to allow easier entry internally.”

You could barely breathe, thankful for the security the weighted blanket offered you to anchor you to the table and prevent you from fleeing from sheer embarrassment. Taking a few steady breaths in, you attempted to keep yourself calm as you shoved away the feeling of an almost touch to your sensitive bundle of nerve-endings from your captain.

Sensing your unease, Law drew his other hand to your thigh and gave you a gentle tap in appreciation of your willingness as his assistant. While he would never say it, he hoped you were the one to agree to this little display instead of Ikkaku. He wouldn't have heard the end of her sass, and you were far easier to ask to follow obscure orders from time to time.

“Sir, when you say ‘self lubricate,’ can you explain what that means-?” Bepo asked quietly once more, prompting you to let out a soft cough to cover a nervous laugh. Law seemed to notice your nerves, gently checking in with you before he did anything without consent. With the gentle call of your name, he broke you from your thoughts and coaxed your eyes to meet his.

“Would you mind if I demonstrated a little bit about how lubrication is produced?” His question seemed the most straight forward to ask the most abstract concept you could ever hope to agree to.

Your captain, Trafalgar D Water Law: former warlord of the seas, and titled the surgeon of death, was asking for permission to get you wet in front of your crewmates. With a soft warmth illuminating your cheeks, you felt compelled to nod. You did not want to disappoint your captain, and having him so close to your intimate region was driving you to the brink of your self control.

“If you deem it necessary, and are prepared to, Captain. I won't stop you,” you responded, checking in with him to ensure he was comfortable with demonstrating this in front of his subordinates. While you were the one about to be made aroused in front of your crew, your captain was going to be the one to do it.

“Alright,” Law nodded down at you, again while giving your thigh a soft squeeze, “Thank you. You're an excellent assistant, and I appreciate you for doing this.”

Managing to give him a soft nod, you lay back and fixed your eyes on the silver roof of the Polar Tang’s med bay as you felt your captain's hand shift towards your pussy. Gently holding your pelvis up with the heel of his palm, he exposed your clit by pulling back the hood.

“Where most partners, once knowing where the clitoris is and what it does, would go charging in towards it,” Law spoke while the warmth of his hands moved towards your pearly bud, “You must only be kind to it. Gentle motions: either up and down,” your breath hitched as his fingers made contact with your clit, his motions following his instructions.

“You can also go side to side,” he rolled your clit with his index finger, your dry pussy now weeping with a small amount of arousal pooling at the entrance, “Or in a circular motion. Like so,” his wrist shifted, using both his index and unity finger to stimulate your clit. You continued to stare up at the ceiling, attempting to fight the way your body was responding to your captain and compartmentalize the feeling of his hands on your body.

“And now you see, there's a little bit of lubrication at the entrance,” his hands darted down, collecting a small amount of your slick, and raising his hand up to the light. “This is an indication of arousal, and will often pave the way for penatritive sex for those who enjoy it.” Law finished, bringing his hand away from your pussy and letting it throb in front of your crewmates.

“Now that we've got it wet, is there any other quest-,” Law’s words were stolen from him when Bepo interjected, much to both Shachi and Penguin's delight.

“-When you say ‘penatritive sex,’ do you mean when a penis goes in? I am so sorry,” Bepo added, his apologies directed at you, alongside his heartfelt gratitude, “I just want to learn. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.” Before Law had a moment to reprimand Bepo, you spoke up calmly and sweetly.

“No, it's okay Bepo. It's actually refreshing that you want to learn this,” you raise your head and give him a soft smile, “If you have a partner with these parts in future, I know they would appreciate you knowing how to satisfy them. Sorry for interrupting, sir. I won't do it again.” You turn your attention towards Law, offering him a soft smile before returning to your reclined position against the bay.

Law, despite his stoic exterior, attempted to ignore the twitch in his pants each time you called him ‘sir’ while being so close to your pussy. ‘It was all in the name of knowledge and medical education,’ he told himself, ‘Nothing more.’

“Penetrative sex, Bepo, can be with foreign objects, including: hands, tongue, tools, and another person’s anatomy that fits within,” he relayed, gently bringing his hands back to your pussy and massaging your clit once more. “The only thing you need to think about is how aroused they are when entering. So, you see how there's a little amount of lubrication at the center?”

Law lined up his tallest finger with your core, gently carding through your folds and rubbing your slit. Slowly inching his fingertip within your pussy, he listened for that gentle hiccup in your breathing that shot lightning straight to his cock. He clamped his eyes shut to take a moment of composure, focussing his attention on the way his gloved finger disappeared into your pussy, and continued.

“So now we've got our partner lubricated enough to enter,” he pressed a little more firmly, more of his finger disappeared upwards within your pussy, “It goes in with ease. In a gentle rocking motion, we can use our hand and fingers to draw out pleasure.” Law continued to press more of his finger within your pussy, trying not to groan at the way it swallowed his digit with a greediness he did not anticipate. He could feel how hot and wet you were through the glove, and it made him almost want to dismiss the three from the room and claim you on the table.

“Now, if we're satisfied with this,” Law continued rocking you on his hand, his attention now turning towards Shachi, Bepo and Penguin, “I could now talk about performing cervical testing and pap smears, like I intended in the beginning-.”

“-Once the entrance is lubricated enough,” Bepo again spoke up, “Should the clitoris be ignored? It's far from the opening, and I could imagine it hard to reach.” Law sighed, turning back towards you while his finger was still buried within your center to the knuckle.

“I am so sorry,” he offered you, his eyes empathetic while he choked back his anger at the line of questions, “Would… Would you mind if I made you cum? I don't want to make you uncomfortable, and I would only be doing it for the benefit of answering all of the follow up questions that I know will come from my brief explaiations.” Law gave you a few short rocks of his hand within your pussy, causing you to bite back a moan that he so easily could have ripped from you.

“If-...” you hissed, feeling more of the pressure returning to your abdomen the longer his hands remained focussing on your pussy. “If you think it's necessary, sir. I am at your mercy, and I will leave it up to you to decide how far you want to take this in the name of educational curiosity. Anything you need, I'm here to assist, sir.”

“Very well,” Law offered with a soft, cocky snicker in his tone, “I'm going to demonstrate a little bit of what I know about anatomy. Please just relax, let me take the reins, and tap my arm to stop me if it gets too much.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod, closing your eyes as you relax against the bay and gulping back your nerves, “Thank you, Captain.” You try to ignore the way you knew four sets of eyes were now fixed on the way your pussy sucked in Law’s finger as he dove it in and retracted it out.

“Okay, now that we're both consenting individuals for this small display, I'm going to demonstrate how to induce an orgasm from our willing crewmate here,” Law nodded to the other three, “You signed up for learning how to complete cervical screening, not learning how to deliver an orgasm. I am happy to cover them while you leave if you do not want-.”

“-Nope!”

“-Nuh uh, I'm good!”

“-I want to learn, Captain.”

You almost wanted to scream at the awkward tension in the room, feeling yourself slink back into the comfort of your shell and hide from them. Just as you were about to speak, Law drew his thumb up and began to gently roll your clit in slow and circular motions. Each time he drew his finger inside your pussy, he would match it with a soft roll of your clit beneath his thumb.

“This act is called ‘fingering’,” he added, likely for Bepo’s benefit while he continued to motion with his hands further, “While few partners enjoy being stimulated either internally or externally, I find the combination of the two actions gets a far greater result. See how much more lubrication freely falls from the entrance?” Law removed his finger from your pussy and held it up to the other three before returning it back to your slit.

“Now, I'm going to add a second finger to the mix,” he nodded, gently bringing his unoccupied hand up to the top of your thigh and giving it a small, appreciative squeeze, “I prefer using my two middle fingers, like so.” He lines up his fingers and gently eases them in your drooling pussy, rolling them against each other to stretch out your entrance.

“This leaves our index finger, pinky finger, and thumb free, so we can use them to-...” he draws his index finger and pinky against your labia and spreads it, his thumb returning to your clit and gently tapping on it with every in-thrust, “...Gently pry apart the vagina so we can see what we're doing, while using our thumb to stimulate the clitoris.”

Scrunching your eyes tightly shut, you used your top teeth to clamp hard on your lower lip to halt a wanton moan from falling from your lips. You couldn't, however, halt the way your back arched on the medical bay as your thighs began to tremble at the amount of pleasure your captain was ripping from you.

“Based on this reaction from our partner, how should I proceed?” he offered the other three, “See how they've arched their back, and their legs had began to twitch a little? This is the telltale sign that, regardless of the silence or not, they are enjoying what we are doing. Should I continue like this, speed up, or slow down?”

“I think we should slow down, draw it out a little more, and take our time with it,” Penguin offered in contemplation, “Withhold it a little to prolong the orgasm and build it up to a larger release.”

“I think we should stay at the same pace,” Bepo suggested, his tone more apprehensive, “Our partner seems to like it, and I would not want to disappoint them by changing what I'm doing in case they don't like it as much.”

“I think we should speed it up, hook our hands up, spit on it a little bit to add more lubrication, and see if we can make them squirt,” Shachi shrugged, uttering it is if it was the most obvious choice, “Use our tongue too, suck on the clit a little bit and make them get a little loud and nasty-.”

“-Keep up the language, Shachi, and I'll have you used as an example of what a prostate exam is,” Law’s warning tone, alongside his coaxing fingers had you whimpering. Your eyes floated open, eyelashes fluttering as he kept a steady rhythm on your pussy, and drawing out your pleasure with ease.

“While these are good suggestions, what we're missing is collecting preference from the one person that truly matters,” Law nodded to them, turning back his attention to you, “You're doing so well. Thank you for letting me do this. Would you prefer I slow down, speed up, or keep talking at the same pace while I change it up?” You gulp at his attention now returned to you, trying to compartmentalize the pleasure while communicating with your captain.

“I-...” you close your eyes, fighting a soft whimper at the way his hand manages to press against your most intimate regions and erogenous zones with the precision of a marksman hitting their target. Without much thought to the action, you couldn't help the words that fell from your lips.

“Please make me cum, captain. Please speed up a little bit, add some more pressure to my clit, and focus more on where your fingers touch me internally,” your soft plea was made with an almost innocent and begging look from your rounded eyes, “Please make me cum. I n-need to cum. Please, sir? Please?”

“Fuck,” a soft whisper from behind Law almost tore you away from your thoughts, Shachi’s hand moving to the front of his boiler suit and adjusting his hardening cock by pinching at the fabric. Law had no time to reprimand him, his entire attention focussed on you the moment your first utter of ‘please’ escaped your lips. Law sped up his motions, hooking up his digits and circling your clit with his thumb.

“Like this? I can feel the way you twitch around me when I push here. But if I push here,” Law moved his hand slightly up, leaning his body closer to yours while his hand was pressed on the base of your pelvis. Moving your hood back with his hand as he did earlier, he exposed more of your clit and spread your slick over your quivering pearl while his motions picked up, “I can stimulate all the parts of your clit at once. Do you like that?”

“Yes, please!” your back bowed as you felt your orgasm grow and bloom in your abdomen, “Please don't stop, captain! Please make me cum!” The fact your crewmates were watching as you were brought to your peak on Law's hands escaped you, your body responding to each rake of his fingers deep within your needy cunt.

“Fu-uck,” another whisper echoed from behind you, this time from Penguin who was clutching his clipboard closer to his chest and pressing his thighs close together.

“You can cum. Cum for me. Cum on my fingers,” Law kept his eyes on your face, continuing to beckon your orgasm from you while raising the intensity and speed of his motions. You felt the coil within your abdomen begin to wind tightly bound, your toes beginning to twitch and curl while your legs dug in against the stirrups.

“Nnnngh-... f-fuck-!” Back fully arching off the table, your lips parted in a silent cry as your pussy began to flutter around Law’s fingers. Both “A” and “T” continued to disappear into your pussy, his relentless stimulation of your clit pushing you from that ledge as you floated off into oblivion.

“There you go, there you go,” Law encouraged you, slowing down his motions as he felt you contract and pulse around his digits, “Good job. Look at you, cumming on my fingers. That's it, keep going.” You couldn't help but let out a higher whine at his praise as he continued to draw out your ecstasy with his skilled hands. He easily ushered you through it, careful to not overstimulate you as he draws you closer to your conclusion.

Feeling the last few waves of your pussy pulsing over his fingers, he holds them within, right down to the knuckle. He felt selfish in lingering longer than necessary, but he needed to feel you just that little bit longer as you panted and heaved through that high.

“So, you see how I slowed down as our partner experienced their orgasm?” Law slowly withdrew his fingers from your pussy, feeling the way it attempted to suck him back within and made him feel like internally groaning at the action, “Why did I do that?”

The room was in pregnant silence, nobody speaking a word, nor raising their hands to indicate their answers. With a soft roll of his eyes and a sigh, Law reached up and removed the elastic of his gloves with a snap over his wrists, breaking the men from their trance.

“To not overstimulate our partner. When the vagina experiences an orgasm, it is far more intense than the penis,” Law discarded the gloves into the bin and gently placed the blanket to cover up your exposed cunt, “The body doesn't feel it at just the abdomen, it feels it everywhere. If you keep it sped up, it overstimulates them to a point where it can become painful in some people. Communication is key with our partner. Any questions?”

Through the small amount of silence, the small voice of the polar-bear spoke shyly.

“Thank you,” he gently praised through his gratitude, rolling your name over his tongue with a blush dusting his white fur, “I appreciate you showing us this, and answering a lot of questions I was going to have before I asked them.”

You keep your eyes fixed on the roof as you raise up your hand. Extending your thumb, you gently squeak out through panting breaths: “Happy to help.”

While remaining composed and professional through the entirety of the ordeal, Trafalgar Law was far from unmoved by your display. He heard your whines for him, saw your back bowing and hips bucking, and remembered the way your pussy quivered against his fingers through each wave of your bliss. When he was alone in his quarters, he couldn't help but to bite his palm hard to muffle the keening cries of his bliss while fisting his cock to the memory. Ropes of cum spurting from his slit while he pictured the way your pussy would feel in the cusps of ecstasy atop his cock.

With the soft cry of your name muffled by his palm, he chased his high past overstimulation while picturing your begging. Eyes rolling, he bucked up into his balled fist while falling from a secondary edge of his own. He was desperate to feel you again: taste you, kiss you, consume you, worship you with his body against your own. All he could do was harden his resolve, charge up to you, and confess his adoration to you…

…Right after he cleaned up his mess.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

🎶Happy Birthday to Me🎶

If you would like to celebrate by indulging my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

#one piece #x reader #birthday celebration 2024 #birthday event 2024 #law #op law #Trafalgar law #law x reader #x afab!reader #trafalgar law smut #one piece smut #2024 birthday party

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h1nanii · 18 days ago

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Drifting between Islands

Pairing: Zoro x fem!Reader

Genre: Canonverse, Stranded Together, Survival, Slow Burn, Jealousy, Hidden Feelings

The last thing you remembered was fire—cannon fire—and Zoro’s hand on your back, shoving you into the sea.

Now, everything hurt.

You woke up coughing salt water, sprawled on damp sand beneath a pale morning sky. A thick canopy of unfamiliar jungle loomed behind you, and waves rolled against your ankles. No ship in sight.

But someone was there.

Zoro sat a few meters away, slumped against a driftwood log, his swords still strapped to his waist. His shirt was torn, hair soaked, one eye shut. He was breathing heavily—but alive.

You sat up slowly. “Zoro?”

He didn’t look at you, just muttered, “You’re awake. Took you long enough.”

“You saved me.”

“Don’t make it weird.”

By midday, you’d scrounged fruit and managed to start a fire. Zoro limped into the trees and returned dragging the corpse of a boar the size of Chopper. You weren’t sure how he caught it with a limp and a half-closed eye, but you didn’t ask.

He dropped it near the fire and grunted. “Too bad the cook isn’t here to pamper you, huh, princess?”

You blinked. “What?”

“You know,” he said with a shrug, not looking at you. “Usually Sanji’s all over you. Thought you’d be missing him by now.”

You blinked, heart skipping. “That’s… random…Whatever you’re assuming is wrong”

“Is it?” Zoro sat back and started sharpening one of his swords. “You and him always whispering, giggling, whatever. Figured you’d be crying without him feeding you grapes or rubbing your feet.”

You gaped at him. “Sanji’s just a friend. And he’s never rubbed my feet, what the hell?”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What’s your problem?”

He looked up, and for a second, there was something unreadable behind his eye. Then he muttered, “Nothing. Just surprised you’re so calm without your favorite crewmate.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t want to admit the only crewmate you were thinking about right now… was him.

Night fell. You shared the warmth of the fire, not speaking. You could hear the ocean, the crackle of burning wood, and Zoro’s quiet breathing.

You decided to break the silence.

“Why did you push me off the ship?”

His voice was low. “Because the explosion was on your side. You would’ve died.”

“You could’ve gotten caught in it.”

“I knew I wouldn’t.”

You hesitated. “Yeah right you would dumbass….You always act like you don’t care. But you do.”

He snorted, pulling his bandana off and rubbing the back of his neck. “You sound like the cook now. Real sentimental.”

“Why do you keep bringing up Sanji?”

Silence. Then,

“Because I hate how easy it is for him.”

You blinked. “What?”

“He talks to you. Makes you laugh. You let him sit next to you. You smile when he’s around.” His jaw clenched. “With me, it’s always a fight. Always awkward. Like I’m not allowed near you.”

Your heart thundered in your chest. “I don’t smile because it’s Sanji.”

He looked at you.

“I smile because… it’s easier to hide how I feel about you when I’m laughing at something stupid.”

Zoro stared.

You stood up, turning toward the jungle. “I’m going to get more firewood.”

Before you could take a step, he caught your wrist. Not hard. Just enough.

“You like me?”

You didn’t turn around. “Maybe.”

He stood, now directly behind you. Close enough to feel his breath on your shoulder.

“That’s really inconvenient,” he murmured.

You frowned. “Why?”

“Because I’ve been trying not to like you for months.”

#one piece #zoro fic #zoro fanfic #zoro roronoa x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #op zoro #zoro fluff #zoro angst #zoro x female reader #zoro x y/n #zoro x you #one piece x female reader #one piece x reader #one piece fanfiction #zoro enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #stranded troupe

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badgerbl00d · 7 months ago

Text

you've reached situationship central!

☆ characters: law, kidd (pt. 1)

☆ up next: TBA

☆ summary: being stuck in an on again off again (very indulgent) relationship with either the surgeon of death or captain eustass kidd requires a great deal of patience

☆ content: angsty, happy ending, nsfw, smut, complicated relationship drama, kidd is scottish, 18+ mdni

☆ a/n: hellooo i am finally settled at my uni and hoping to begin writing regularly again and start going through my requests (thank you for all of them by the way).. please enjoy me writing about my top two op crushes rnn <3

law:

#i’d forgive him so fast oops | 3.3k words

With Law, all of your meetings are at midnight or after, he’s painfully careful to ensure that no one has even the slightest clue of what your relationship has begun to blossom into– He’s scared of course. Anything could go wrong; his rationality is placed at risk every time you walk past him and he allows himself to indulge (even if for just a second) in the smell of your perfume– strong and floral. It lingers even after you’ve walked past him, ignoring him just like he asked you to do during the working hours on board the Polar Tang. Law does what he can to suppress the sting he feels when you, oh so obediently, listen to him. You do your job too well, he thinks, not even sparing him a glance if you’re not being directly addressed. ‘This is your own fault’, he has to remind himself. It pains him when the crew stays up late playing poker and cards and drinking alcohol, talking about all your hopes and dreams, when you entertain your crewmates with stories and he hears about how you’re there for them all in times of difficulty, a listening ear, a supporting friend, an emotional anchor to the crew.

Maybe, he thinks, I should end it. He knows that that’s the right answer, if you’re just friends he might allow himself to be welcomed into the radiance and warmth around you that he denies himself and has instructed you to deny to him. He’s too scared to lose you now.

On late nights, Law lays in bed, his room hazy from the cigarette he lets burn in an ashtray you gifted him and he thinks about the few direct conversations you’ve had about your… situation. That’s what you had called it, “Law,” you had said, “We have to talk about…”

“About what?” He still beats himself up over how he delivered that question, biting and poisonous. He can’t shake the memory of the frown it elicited on your face.

“Y/n, we don’t have to talk. Please, let’s not talk. Talking means we have to confront the reality of the situation.”

That was what he should’ve said. Instead his tongue betrayed him, acting faster than he could register. About what? Idiot, he thought.

You took a deep breath before answering him, “About us, Law. Our… situation.”

He had scoffed at you. Let out an indifferent huff, as though the matter was beneath him. His chest aches when he thinks about it now. The hurt on your face was so obvious.

“So talk.”

It was dark that night. He can’t remember if tears pooled on your lower lashes, or if it was a trick of the slight bit of light pouring into the dark room. He chooses to believe the latter option.

“What are we doing? I can’t… I don’t want to continue like this. Secret and hidden– I want to, I want to be able to talk to you during the day. To tell you about how I am and ask you about yourself I want to help you and be there for you. To kiss you whenever and hold your hand–”

“So do I,” he should have said, “I want that too.”

“You are there for me,” was his reply, instead, “As my trusted crewmate. And I never said you couldn’t talk to me, but I maintain my position. We can’t be discovered, the risks are-”

“Oh!” you exclaimed, sighing, “The risks? Our entire life is a risk. You think the crew would care? And what does it matter what you’ve said– it’s how you act. I’ve tried talking to you and you treat me with such an awful indifference Law. I respect your intelligence and leadership so please don’t act stupid.

What am I to you?”

He paused. Wrong move.

Your bottom lip trembled as you closed your eyes and inhaled. His memory doesn’t serve him very well but if you did cry that night it was now that the tears flowed.

“Okay,” you said, your voice incredibly soft. You had accepted defeat. He wanted to tear his skin off. This was agony. Why couldn’t he just say what he felt?

“I want you,” he says to himself now, picking the cigarette back up, placing it between his lips, “I love you.”

Three weeks too late, he thinks. The cigarette burns in the back of his throat, his chest filling with an uncomfortable warmth.

The last few weeks had been uncomfortable to say the least. You refused to talk to him, and he didn’t blame you. He barely saw you, the last time he’d gotten a proper look at your face was six days ago now. You looked beautiful, maybe he should have said something.

He lost track of time. An hour has passed now since he laid down to smoke, or has it been two? His head is spinning, never has regret gripped his heart so aggressively.

The aching in his chest tugs him out of bed and into the hallway. He finds himself walking toward the library where he knows you’ll be.

Where less than a month ago you were sat on his lap, soft arms gently wrapped around his shoulders as he kissed up and down your arms, buried inside you.

He missed your warmth, the way just being in your presence felt like sitting next to a fireplace, drinking a cup of tea. Your touch soft and reassuring, Fuck, he thinks, fuck.

The coolness of the metal floor jolts him out of his daze, he’s moving with a purpose now.

It’s not too late, he reassures himself.

The library door is closed, a warm light pours out into the cool, blue hallway from underneath the door. His hand hovers over the door knob for a moment, listening. Silence.

Law gently opens the door, and is welcomed by the sight of you fast asleep on Shachi’s shoulder, your crewmate’s arm wrapped around you.

Law pauses, Shachi looks up. He subdues the jealousy that quickly spreads throughout his body.

Shachi shoots him a look, as if to say, “I’m doing my best.”

Law’s throat hurts, speaking is too risky. He sends back a puzzled look.

Shachi beckons him over, placing his free hand up to his lips, “Shh.”

Law’s head feels like it’s about to explode. He can’t do this right now. His stomach twists at the sight of his crewmate’s arm around you. He was always so mesmerized by how you slept– envious, even, at how gently your eyes closed, how your soft lips parted once you were out, how deeply you slept.

His mind slips from him, replaying memories of how you’d cling to him when spending the night in his room, your arms securely around his neck, your face tucked into him. The sound of you giggling in the morning when he’d wake you up with kisses peppered all over your face and neck, trailing down and down your body. He inhales, trying to recollect himself– The memory of your body is overpowering. His hands clench into fists at his sides.

“She’s been asleep for about two hours,” Shachi started. Law’s chest tightened, two hours?

“I didn’t know what to say to her. She’s so… sad. Some guy, I think, broke her heart. Or, is currently breaking it. I don’t want to pry. Maybe you should talk to her?”

Law concentrated all of his efforts on answering his subordinate to avoid collapsing to the floor and begging you for forgiveness right then and there, Shachi be damned. His worst crime, in all of his life, he thought, is to have done this to you.

The thought of being ‘some guy’ that broke your heart nauseates him, he has to fix this.

“Captain?” Shachi seemed to have picked up on Law’s distress.

“Shachi,” Law started, his eyes fixed on you– his expression must have been something pained, or regretful, “Leave her here. Go to bed.”

Shachi’s brows furrowed. Law tore his eyes away from you to look at him, “I’ll take care of her.”

The redhead quickly picked up on the subtext and inhaled, about to say something but bit his tongue. Shachi gently removed his arm from around your shoulders, propping your head up on the sofa behind you and stood quietly, making room for Law.

“Captain,” he started, shooting him a look that wasn’t quite placeable. Disappointment? Anger? It wasn’t either, perhaps something in between, he decided you were capable enough to handle this yourself, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Law sat down next to you. He wanted to laugh. You had a way about you, even in such a moment of difficulty for Law, that made him want to give into you completely. God knows he had spent every second he’d known you fighting that urge. You slept on, completely undisturbed by any of the commotion around you. A strand of hair fell across your face, an obstruction to an otherwise perfect view. He brought a hand up to it, gently pushing it to the side, tucking it behind your ear. You stir, slightly.

He hates himself, he thinks as he brings a firm hand to your arm, and gently shakes you to a conscious state.

You wake with droopy eyelids, sleep still generously distributed throughout your body. It pains him to wake you, he knows you need the rest. He watches your lashes touch your rosy cheeks as you blink your eyes open, gathering your surroundings. You yawn, stretching your hands above your head, your shirt rising just enough to show off your lower tummy. Law curses whatever devil placed you in his life.

“Mmm.. What time ‘s it, Chi?” you ask. Jealousy rears its ugly head in Law’s chest at the use of a nickname for Shachi.

Law clears his throat, “One twenty three in the morning.”

You jolt, straightening your posture, upon recognizing your captain’s unmistakably deep, tired voice.

“Law,” you say, looking at him, “I was just leaving, actually. Shachi was supposed to wake me up an hour ago..” You adjust the hem of your shirt and push your hair out of your face. An awkward silence filled the room– an awful reminder of how fucked up your… situation had become.

You can’t bear it, Law can tell, any more than he can. Your discomfort is obvious and he hates to be the root of it.

“Well, goodnight,” you say standing. Your voice wavers.

“Y/n,” Law says, “Sit. Please.”

You wanted nothing more than to tell him to fuck off. You’d even rehearsed it with Ikkaku.

“Fuck you Law,” you’d practiced, “Fuck you and never speak to me again I never want to be around you. You’re so…”

That was usually where Ikkaku would have some suggestions:

“Immature? Selfish? Mean? Evil? Misogynistic? Fuck that guy.”

“Yeah,” you’d agree, “But I don’t think I can say that to him directly, he is the Captain after all.”

“He’s also a doctor,” she’d observed, “But you don’t seem very healed to me.”

These conversations replayed in your head as you sat down, following his orders.

You kept your gaze focused downward, your bare feet shuffled awkwardly against the carpet.

“We should vacuum this,” you said, “Feels kinda dusty.”

Silence settled between the two of you. It was unbearable.

You continued, “I’ll mention it to Penguin, um, I know he likes stuff cleaned a certain way. And, oh, right, I meant to tell you about the books we’re picking up at the next port. They ran out of the edition of the Watson book you ordered–”

“Y/n.”

You shut up. You could feel the tears start to well in your eyes. No, goddamnit, you thought, Don’t give him the satisfaction.

“I’m… sorry.”

You looked up at him, a puzzled expression on your face.

“No, you’re not,” you said. If there were any other noise coming from anywhere on the ship he would not have heard you, you spoke so quietly.

“No, you’re not,” you repeated.

Law inhaled, guilt had never had such a physically debilitating effect on his body.

“Y/n, listen. I am. I can’t sleep, or eat, or think, I can’t–”

“Neither can I, so, thanks for that. It’s been a great few weeks for me.”

He swallowed.

“Please look at me.”

You look up, your cheeks coated in two parallel streaks of tears. His eyes are red, the bags under them a deep shade of gray. He really hasn’t slept. You curse yourself as you reach a hand up to his face, and scoot yourself into his lap.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, chest to chest, and he places his forehead against yours.

You feel a small string of tears fall into your lap. He’s crying, you realize.

“I fucked up,” he says, “I’m sorry.”

He runs a hand up and down your back, it’s unfortunately soothing. You want so badly to push him off of you- deny his touch and affection, but as his hand slows and his grip on you tightens, as he pulls you into him even further and allows himself to indulge in the feeling of your body against his you know that you’ve once again fallen into his trap.

“I can’t keep doing this, Captain.”

There was a time when hearing his title come from your lips elicited an unspeakably sinful desire within him. Hearing it from your mouth was such a delicious indulgence. Now he knows you use it to distance yourself from him- to avoid using his name.

“I know, baby,” he says, “I know.”

You sit up in his lap, wiping your tears.

“I can fix this,” he reassures you, “I promise.”

“How? What is there to fix?”

He’s silent.

“I thought about what you said, that night,” you continue.

‘That night,’ he wants to blow his brains out. That terrible night when he started this, when he couldn’t answer a simple question, when he started the downward spiral of the past three weeks, the tension between the two of you getting worse with each passing day.

“You’re right, Law,” you went on, “To not have answered my question. We aren’t anything. You’re my captain and I’m your crewmate– nothing more, nothing less.”

You both knew that was a lie. Here you were in the dim candlelight on the library couch, the navy blue ocean stirring just outside the glass window behind you, sitting on his lap letting him hold you. He pulled you into his chest, laying your head down onto his shoulder. You let him. It was a delicate thing, to play such a game of cat and mouse, your roles always shifting back and forth. You let yourself be pulled into him, sinking into his touch, arching your back into his chest doing whatever possible to be closer to him for even just a moment.

He brought a hand up to run through your hair, and rested his cheek on the side of your head.

The silence was less bitter this time. You both sit in it for several minutes, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck.

You try to resist the urge for a split second, and then, as usual, cave into his touch. You place a soft kiss on his neck (a spot of complete and absolute weakness for Law). He responds with a kiss on your head.

He inhales, and you brace yourself.

“Y/n.”

You don’t respond.

“I love you.”

Your cheeks immediately are covered by an onslaught of tears you hadn’t even felt forming. You sniffle, wrapping your arms around him tighter. He squeezes you harder, before making you sit up and look at him, face to face.

He’s given up. He’s never been more fucked than he is now. He watches you, your expression, for a moment. You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, he thinks, cheeks pink from his body heat, lashes damp from the tears.

“Y/n, I am sorry,” he wipes away your tears with one hand, the other tangling itself into your hair. You sniffle, a frown settling on your face.

“I want you,” he confesses, “Always. I think about you always and I can’t sleep and I’ve been telling myself that it’s because of work but it’s you. I can’t sleep without you. I can’t think without you. Everything reminds me of you, my pillow still smells like you, your clothes show up in my laundry, you have jewelry on my desk I can’t escape you. I don’t want to.”

You softened at this admission, but with Law there was always a catch.

“But?” you ask.

He sighs, “If anything were to happen to you I’d be responsible. It felt better, safer to end, or deny things and keep you safe than keep going and risk your safety.”

“I’m a pirate, Law, I’m at risk anyway. Don’t lie to me, that’s not the only reason.”

He kisses your forehead, “I know, I know. I am worried about the risks of another crew finding out or, god forbid, the navy. But I can’t… be without you. I haven’t slept or eaten or… worked, really. I’m scared you don’t feel the same.”

You don’t what overcomes you in that moment, but the next thing you know your lips are attached to his, his hand pulling you into him by your neck.

You whine when he pulls back, ignoring the tears flowing down your cheeks.

He kisses your nose, your forehead, your cheeks as he wipes your tears whispering, “It’s okay, it’s okay… I’m sorry.”

His lips find yours again, and he kisses you more aggressively this time– it’s carnivorous and hungry, his grip on your waist tightens enough to bruise and you wince.

“L-Law, be gentle,” you whimper.

His grip softens slightly and he pulls away from your mouth to start planting sloppy, wet kisses on your neck.

You mewl, arching your back into him completely melting at his touch. Soft moans escape you as you tug at the hem of his shirt, helping him pull it off.

You run a hand over his abs, savoring the view as he helps you take your own shirt off.

“Wait, Y/n, wait,” Law manages to get out, his breath heavy and fast, “What are we?”

You laugh, kissing him, slipping your tongue between his lips. He moans and you ignore his question. You pull away a sticky string of saliva connecting your puffy pink lips to his. You can feel how hard he is beneath you, and grind down on it ever so slightly.

Law bites back a moan, throwing his head back on the couch leaving his neck wide open for you. You gently bite down on his neck, kissing it after.

You missed him so badly, no one had ever brought out in you what Law did. His confession immediately healed all the previous wounds he’d inflicted on your heart, wounds that only he would have been able to heal anyway.

“Law, I need you,” you cry.

“I’m here, baby, I’m right here,” he coos, holding you.

“I need you, always. Not conditionally. Not after midnight. Always.”

He sighs, a silent acknowledgement of his wrongs.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ve never… felt like this. I didn’t want to mess up, I suppose. Or ruin things between us. I’d rather stop this and still be able to see you every day than have you be mine and lose you for it.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Law. I promise.”

He places another kiss on your forehead, sleep begins to take over in Law.

“Law,” you pout, sitting up, “It’s cold.”

He blinks, taking a moment to process your words, savoring the way you say his name, “Okay, baby, let’s go to my room. Stay the night? Please?”

You think about it for a second, “Okay.”

“I love you,” he says.

You pause. His chest tightens.

“I love you, too.”

Law picks you up, letting you rest your head on his shoulder as he walks back through the Polar Tang, toward his room.

He smiles, you’re going to be upset about the smell of smoke.

“Baby,” he says.

“Hm.”

“Let’s tell everyone at breakfast, tomorrow.”

You perk up, “Tell them what?”

He laughs, and kisses the top of your head, “That you’re mine.”

kidd:

my fav scottish #pussypounder | 3.9k words

Your vision begins to blur at the edges, as Kidd’s grip on your neck tightens ever so slightly. You’d complain if you were able to form any thoughts other than enjoying the rhythmic slap of his hips against your ass, your mind numb as you begin to drool from the feeling of his heavy balls slapping against your clit. You yelp at the sudden sharp pain of Kidd’s metal hand slapping your ass, it energizes you to match his thrusts halfway. Kidd loves watching you fuck yourself on his big, fat dick in doggy-style, his chest swells with pride at his ability to reduce you to such a pathetic, whiny personal slut for him. The sound of sloppy, wet slaps fills the room, a consistent tempo of plap, plap, plap.

“Feel good, lassie?” Kidd laughs, his pace never faltering.

“Mmmff, fuckkk Kidd, please don’t stop!”

“I‘m getting close, love,” his voice now slightly strained, “Where should I finish, hm?”

“Inside,” you beg, “Please, inside!”

You yelp as his metal hand once again makes harsh contact with the fat of your ass, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you let bliss take over, now approaching your own end.

“Kidd,” you whine, “Gonna… cum!”

“That’s right, lassie, cream all over me,” Kidd growls.

His thick accent makes your clit throb, and he can feel you tightening around him.

“Ya like when I talk to ya like that?” his hand moved from your neck to the base of your scalp where he roughly grabbed a generous handful of hair, yanking your head back as he bent over to kiss you.

“Mhmmm,” you moan, your mind completely hazy from the feeling of him sliding in and out of you, “Mmf mmm-”

Kidd pulls away, a deep laugh filling the room, “What’s that, love?”

“Gonna.. cum, daddy!”

Your captain’s pace slows ever so slightly, he savors every inch of pleasure he can draw from your drooling pussy– you know he’s close.

“Cum with me, sweetheart,” he commands.

It only takes a few more strokes before you oblige, sinking further into the mattress as you release your orgasm and feel Kidd finishing inside you. He indulges you in a few more strokes; he loves watching the creamy, wet mixture the two of you produce whenever he cums inside of you.

“Good girl,” he says as he slowly pulls out, before collapsing on the bed next to you.

“C’mere,” he beckons you toward him, patting his chest for you to lay on. You obey. He brings a hand to your neck, and kisses the top of your head before closing his eyes. He starts snoring a few minutes later.

To say sex with Kidd was amazing would be the understatement of the year, it was heavenly, divine, rough, passionate, wonderful. He knew your body better than his own, being with him was indescribably delicious. The sex you had filled your mind for days and days after, so much so that Kidd had begun to recognize it on your face when you were thinking about your latest encounter. A dazed, hazy look would cloud your eyes during meetings, dinner, days out in the towns you stopped at. It drove Kidd insane, knowing you were thinking about him that much– and, for the most part, he was always happy to indulge.

Pulling you (and your panties) to the side whenever he had time, Kidd was a very generous man when it came to you, always happy to give you exactly what you needed. After all, he’d tell himself, he needed you functioning at full capacity and if this was how he needed to remind you of that, who was he to complain?

He was just as entranced by you, though he’d never admit it out loud. More than once he caught himself seeking you out just to talk, to spend time in your presence. He’d come up with poorly thought out, half-assed excuses to be near you.

“Y/n,” he’d say, “Come help me in the workshop lass, you have small enough hands to fix this screw.”

Or, “Come hold this light while I work, love.”

“Come read with me, sweetheart, I need your opinion on the best kind of metal to use.”

“Grab me an apple from the kitchen, will ya, lassie?”

It was obvious to you, of course, given that it was a fault you yourself echoed through your own actions.

“Kidd, can you zip up my dress for me?”

“Kidd, could you fasten my necklace for me?”

“Kidd, taste this, tell me if it’s good.”

“Kidd, Kidd, Kidd…”

Everyone else on the crew found it endearing, you brought out something mature in their Captain– which they greatly appreciated.

“Looks like he just needed to be having sex regularly,” Wire joked.

You couldn’t disagree.

You and Kidd worked so well together, you’d found yourselves fighting back to back a handful of times now moving in sync with one another, not having to communicate, simply understanding how the other thinks, moves, works.

You lost count of how many nights you’d spent in his room, and vice versa. It was terrible to admit but you were attached. You slept better with his chest against your back, strong arm wrapped around you. Your day was better when you woke up to his snoring and got to kiss him awake.

You laid now on his chest, sweat drying on your forehead and back, wincing internally.

This wasn’t great.

Yes, you worked well together and the sex was amazing– but you hadn’t quite worked your way up to admitting that maybe there was a deeper attachment brewing, and you knew your Captain was definitely not thinking that way at all.

Besides, there was something freeing about the casualty of it all. Kidd was there when you were unbearably horny (which had been often, as of late) and you were there when he was (which, again, had been quite often as of late).

No strings attached! That was a good thing… Right? You were free to do as you wished, see other people, reconnect with old flames you crossed paths with on the open ocean, and there were no worries about childish feelings or getting hurt.

Right?

Kidd had fallen asleep, you could hear his soft snores and his hand that had been rubbing your back had fallen limp by his side.

Fuck, you thought. This wouldn’t do. You liked Kidd, but he was the last person on Earth you needed to fall in love with.

You slowly sat up, inching your way to the edge of the bed. You went to stand, when you were jerked back by a metal finger pulling you by the hem of your panties.

“Where’re ya goin’?” He asked, voice deep and raspy with sleep.

You ignored the heat between your legs.

“To bed, Kidd. Goodnight.”

He laughed, “Come lay down then.”

You were silent. Why shouldn’t you? You’d slept with him hundreds of times before.

No attachments.

“I… sleep better in my bed,” you said. Awful excuse, you noted.

“Alright then,” he sat up, yawning, “Let’s go to your room, then.”

“Kidd…” you started. You didn’t know what to say. What were you feeling? Attachment? Love? Had you ever really been in love before? What did that even feel like?

The nature of your relationship was unspoken but mutually understood. This, whatever this was, was casual, no strings attached, sexual, non-exclusive.

He sat up, making his way to the edge of the bed to sit next to you, “Somethin’ wrong?”

This wasn’t supposed to be hard. It was supposed to be fun, easy, a stress reliever.

“Um, yeah, I just– I started my period so I have to go wash up and stuff. I’ll see you in the morning,” you lied.

Something’s wrong, Kidd thought. Say something, he urged himself.

“Let me take care of you, lassie,” he said, gently placing an arm around your waist, “Think a bit of blood bothers Captain Eustass Kidd?”

You let out an unconvincing laugh, “It’s alright Kidd, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You stood, making your way to the door.

“Alright,” he sighed, lying back down on his bed, sure now that something was wrong with you, “But give me a kiss before ya go.”

You paused at the door, back to your Captain.

A moment passed.

Another moment.

“Goodnight then, Y/n.”

You walked out, closing the door behind you, cursing yourself.

Kidd lied back down, fully awake now. His stomach turned, something resembling nausea settled in his abdomen. Was he too forward? It hardly seemed likely that asking you to stay the night was out of bounds, especially when he had just been buried nine inches deep, emptying a load in you. He sighed, and rolled over onto his stomach as his mind sought a possible explanation.

You weren’t on your period, that much was certain. Not that he was tracking your cycle, of course. He definitely didn’t go to significant lengths to make sure his schedule was freed up when you ovulated.

Maybe, he thought, the feeling of nausea increasing, There’s someone else.

He dismissed the thought quickly, but it ate at him. You leaving so suddenly, not even offering him a kiss goodbye… You didn’t even look at him.

Kidd, despite the recent calmness he had, was still Kidd and the more he ruminated on the sickening possibility the more real it became.

That must be it, he convinced himself, What obligation does she have to me anyway? We’re not… together.

His chest ached, it infuriated him. He spent the better part of the night tossing and turning, contemplating whether he had any right to kick down your door and demand you give him the name of your lover or if he should simply never speak to you again. Should he ask the other members of the crew? He didn’t want to involve them; it was his problem, he decided.

When inspiration did finally strike around five in the morning, just before the sun had started to rise, he ignored the gut feeling that had begun to indicate that it wasn’t the best idea.

Tomorrow, he decided, when we stop for supplies I’ll find and flirt with a pretty girl. Give her a taste of her own medicine. With this resolution (that he had absolutely convinced himself was the best approach to the situation) he fell asleep, hard.

It was too cold, you thought as you lounged in the library of the Victoria Punk, cuddled up by the fire you’d had Heat set for you before he left. You had opted out of going into town, and since you weren’t able to cite lovesickness as a reason you stuck with the period excuse. You didn’t miss how Kidd rolled his eyes at you when you offered the excuse again to him.

The windows were icy, the temperature continuing to drop as it got later and later. It had quickly heated up in the library, you fanned yourself with an old copy of your favorite book. You passed multiple hours on your reading chair, in a hoodie Kidd had let you borrow months ago. Too bad he’s not here, you thought. You faded in and out of sleep, drowsy from the hot fire and the poor quality of sleep from last night. The sun was set when the peace and quiet was disturbed by the sound of a woman’s light and airy laughter. It carried through the ship, leading you to sit up and turn to look for the source of the sound.

Your chest tightened at the sight that greeted you, and you were never more desperate for something that could hide the expression of disgust and hurt you felt forming on your face.

Kidd sauntered on board with his hand around the waist of a woman you’d never seen before. She was wearing a dress notably similar to one you owned that he had complimented multiple times. The longer you looked (though you tried to keep it short) the more you noted similarities between you and her. Similar height, hair color, facial features, bodily assets. The moment you felt your bottom lip tremble you turned back in your chair, standing quickly and gathering your things, making a beeline to your room.

Kidd made eye contact with you on your way out, eyes slightly widening upon seeing your sweater.

Heat and Wire walked up on board the ship a few minutes later, and shot you a sympathetic look. It was no surprise to them that Kidd was being immature over a simple misunderstanding (he disclosed last night’s events to them in more detail than was necessary) and despite their advice to not follow through with his idiotic plan, he did anyway.

Kidd immediately knew he had fucked up, bad. The look on your face was enough to tell him that he had crossed a line and clearly had suffered a severe lapse in judgment. He immediately dismissed the woman, leaving Heat and Wire in the extremely awkward position of having to walk her off the ship– they made a mental note to make sure Kidd was on bathroom duty for the next month. He ran after you, but the door to your room was already shut and, he wiggled the handle for a few seconds, locked too.

He knocked every few minutes, growingly increasingly agitated at your refusal to talk to him.

Knock, knock.

“Y/n, c’mon lass, you misunderstood– I don’t even know her!”

“I was just… I was– ugh, I don’t know what I was thinking!”

“I wanted to make you jealous, lass, just open the door so I can explain.”

After the third hour of knocking to no avail Kidd resolved that he would simply wait you out, you had to come out eventually.

It was another three hours, nearly midnight, by the time you opened your door. Kidd was half asleep when you opened the door, and snapped back to full consciousness when he saw you.

Your brows were furrowed and you looked at him with more disgust and contempt than usual. He crossed his arms and blocked your path.

“Get out of my way.”

“Talk to me,” he responded.

“About?”

He laughed, your blood boiled, “So you’re not upset? About… anything at all?”

“No, dearest Captain, why on Earth would I be upset?”

“Just tell me what’s wrong.”

You scoffed, “Really, Eustass I didn’t take you for such an idiot. Get out of my way.”

He sighs, a smirk still settled onto his face, and moves to the side, gesturing for you to go ahead.

You walk past him, making your way toward the kitchen. You don’t fail to notice how he tags along beside you.

“Ugh, Kidd! What? What do you want from me?”

“Tell me why you’re upset.”

“You know why I’m upset, moron.”

“Tsk, tsk, that’s no way to talk to your Captain.”

You bite your lip, “I’m sure she’d talk to you exactly how you want. Stop following me.” You go to take another step, but he grabs your arm pushing you toward the wall of the hallway. He pressed his chest into your back, pinning you against the wall as he bent down bringing his lips to your ear and teasing you with a few kitten licks.

He grabbed your wrists, holding them against your lower back with an uncharacteristically gentle grip. Like he was daring you to fight back. You relax into his grip, arching your back to rub your ass against his bulge.

You hate how weak he makes you.

A deep breath escapes Kidd, sending a jolt of electricity down your spine. Your thighs are starting to get sticky. A soft moan escapes your lips as he presses his hard cock into the curve of your ass.

“Mhm,” Kidd teases, “Somethin’ else ya want to tell me, lassie? Go on, use your words.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you, asshole,” you snap back, trying to suppress the urge to give him the attention he so desperately needs.

“But how often do you keep yourself busy with other women?”

You break. His grip slightly tightens, his confidence faltering for a split second.

“Ohh,” he remarks, an infuriating smile settling onto his face, “You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m just bored.”

He moves your wrists into his left hand, his right wrapping around to the front of your hips and under your skirt. He runs his thumb along your slit, your panties dripping with arousal.

“Doesn’t feel like you’re bored, love,” he says, pressing harder against you, “Please, darling, tell me what’s wrong. I already miss you.”

You scoff and roll your eyes, “Right. And you really think I’m stupid enough to believe that? I’ve already told you what’s wrong.”

“I do miss you,” he laughs, “And, no you haven’t. You’re too smart to be truly bothered by my little stunt earlier. Somethin’ else is bothering ya– and don’t say it’s your period I know that’s not true.”

You pouted, refusing to answer the question.

He ran a thumb over your lips, bending slightly to be able to gently kiss you. You don’t fight back.

He lets go of your wrists and you turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders bringing him in for another kiss.

He picks you up and you wrap your legs around him, he presses you into the wall, slipping his tongue past your lips.

This is hell, you think, Just tell him you’re done.

But, then again, you weren’t. That was the issue.

Your chest was tight and your brain foggy as you pulled away from the kiss.

Kidd’s chest heaved with heavy, deep breaths as he began the process of regaining his composure. He slowly lowered you down the wall until your feet touched the floor. He leaned against the wall, his metal arm resting above your head, caging you in. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and cupped your face with his right hand, bringing it up to his own. You stood on the tips of your toes and he bent lower to more easily pepper your face in kisses.

“‘m sorry lassie,” he said, between kisses, “I’m an arse.”

A huge one, you thought.

You kissed him back, his lips salty with the taste of sweat.

“Forgive me? Please? I… You mean a lot to me. Don’t be upset, I can't take it.”

A smile crept onto your face. You placed a hand on his chest, it felt like touching marble. He was so difficult to resist– but your mind flashed you the image of his arm around another woman and you steeled yourself. You pushed him back, slipping out from beneath his grasp walking out of the hallway back toward your own room.

He followed after you like a dog on a leash.

“Y/n, bonnie lass, hear me out, baby” he pleaded; You walked just fast enough to stay out of his reach, “I am sorry, love.”

You kept walking, your poor Captain trailing behind you uttering pleas, “Y/n, slow down lass, let me explain. She doesn’t mean anything to me, I just wanted to make you jealous.”

You stopped, finally having arrived at your destination.

“Make me jealous?” you repeated, turning to look at him, an expression of disgust settling on your face, “By bringing her on to OUR ship, hm? That was your genius idea, Captain? How did that work out for you?”

He sheepishly looked down at the floor, bringing a hand up to run through his hair. His cheeks were pink with embarrassment.

“Why on Earth would you ever pull some bullshit like that with me? I’d have never done that to you.”

This did get a rise out of him, “Oh, you’d never? So leaving me last night the way you did– with no explanation and a half-assed excuse is any better? You couldn’t even look at me, you refused to kiss me! Kiss me. It only makes sense you have another man on your mind.”

Your expression slightly relaxed, “Another man– that’s what you really think? That’s what this is all about?”

Kidd was silent, his stubbornness had gotten the better of him.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to offer him an explanation.

“Last night,” you started, “I got scared–” “Scared? Of me?”

“Kidd!”

“Right, sorry, go on then.”

“I realized…” you paused, it was harder to say to his face than you expected, “I like you.”

Kidd’s countenance softened, “Well, lass, I’d hope you like me by now.”

“No, Kidd, I like you– I love–,” you bit your bottom lip, cutting yourself off.

Your captain’s eyes widened, before a sly smile began to spread on his face.

You ignored it, “I get that you don’t feel the same, I know this isn’t anything… serious, but–”

His arm shot out to wrap around you and pull you into him, you brought your own hands in front of yourself to push against his chest, maintaining the distance between the two of you.

“C’mere, lassie,” he laughed, easily overpowering you and hugging you into him, “You’re a stubborn little thing, ya know?”

You huffed, tears pooling on your lower lash line, this was all so frustrating.

“Look at me,” he said, lifting your gaze with a finger under your chin, “I love you, Y/n.”

You looked up at him and the sight of your pink, pouting lips and watery eyes made him dizzy.

He kissed you, squeezing your cheeks with his warm hand and squeezing your waist with the metal one. You deepened the kiss, slipping your tongue past his lips, reaching behind you to open the door to his bedroom.

Kidd understood your request plainly, picking you up and walking to his bed with you. The door shut with a harsh bang, drawing you both out of your momentary reverie.

Your captain gently placed you on the bed, pulling back to admire you.

“You’re the most beautiful woman on the ocean, you know?”

You smiled, blowing him a kiss. Kidd turned to lock the door and started undressing, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Your anxieties had completely evaporated since his lips touched yours, you took a deep breath to process your confessions to each other.

A smile made its way onto your features and your cheeks darkened.

Kidd made his way back onto the bed, and pulled you into him, where you laid on top of him resting your chin on his chest.

“I do love ya, lassie, I wasn’t joking,” he said.

“I know, Captain,” you said, visibly reassuring him.

“Shall I help you get these off, sweetness?” he asked, tugging at the hem of your shorts.

You nod but hold up a finger, you weren’t quite done reprimanding him.

“Captain,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Yes, lovely?”

“If you ever pull some shit like that again, I’ll kill you.”

His smile dropped for a split second before he started laughing, and rolled over to pin you against the mattress.

He bent down to kiss and suck at your neck.

“Eustass,” you said, voice flat, “I’m serious.”

“Mmm,” he left one more kiss before answering, “I know you are, trust me.

Now let me make it up to ya.”

756 notes · View notes

otkuhotgirl · 8 months ago

Text

─── 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐅𝐅 .

# with portgas d. ace.

the mera mera no mi had a dozen benefits — setting your walls alight was but one of them.

⎰ & KINKTOBER, (late) day five. smut (mdni!). temperature play. devil-fruit usage. oral (reader!receiving). fingering. afab!reader. no y/n used.

WC: 2.4k.

portgas d. ace had fed himself with a fruit that granted him particularities similar to those of a furnace. fire coursed through his veins — oftentimes he mused the thought that it had burned whichever cells connected him to his father still. heat gave him a reputation; an untouchable anatomical state. fire fist ace, the fearsome second-in-command. flames and warmth were but a weapon and he never thought of it beyond that. until he found that the feelings labored for you burned brighter than whatever spark his fingers conjured.

lust first settled during the search for akagami no shanks — the man who had saved his younger brother’s life. amidst ice and torrid snow, you stood: a single thread of life with a clear distaste for the cold. hunched, trembling figure whose knees were pressed to one’s chest, cursing through parted lips, at the corner in an attempt to disappear from sight. when ace sat by your side, heat emanating from his flesh, you immediately pressed yourself against him, hiding your face as you clung to his arm. he had laughed then, hugging you until the trembling ceased, growing hotter at the sound of your relieved sigh.

the second time had been during a sudden — yet common — change in the weather at the approach of a winter island. ace had no intentions of lingering there whatsoever, and briefly instructed his crew to be swift in their business. you opted to remain on the ship, covered in tides of blankets with a lukewarm cup of untouched coffee in hand. ace wordlessly set a place behind you, nervous, yet smooth, as he pressed his palms over your shoulders and began an amateurish massage. he feared the prospect of his physical strength causing you pain, yet you merely leaned into his touch, moaning with your eyes closed as the shared warmth coursed through your body. ace thought himself vicious; disgusting; for he had felt a sudden twitch in his cock at the sounds.

at last, the snap came once he mingled with the whitebeard pirates, his past crewmates choosing to linger; accepting the shift in captains. you were bedridden, and marco had commented that heat could increase the comfort during menstrual cramps. ace caught on the words left unsaid, and offered, once again, to be your soothing warmth; your healing flame. you sounded grateful altogether, and had no problems falling asleep in his arms whatsoever, allowing his hands to be placed on the external root of your pain. sharing the bed had been enough for you to claim one another; to officiate the clear-as-day relationship born from reciprocal love.

although things had changed ever-since — from endless travels to foreign lands, to the survival of a terrible war —, ace’s hidden desire regarding his devil-fruit persevered. it was shown regardless of the weather, twitching erection even in alabasta, when sweat pooled on your cleavage; when he’d see you swimming, sea-salt clinging to your flesh; or the particular instances of quietness, when his fingers would travel through your body until they found your clit. oftentimes, when his cock was lost amidst your warm walls, perhaps out of sheer instinct, he’d find himself increasing the temperature of it, if only to access your reaction. a complicated gamble; the fear of maiming, alight fire born from his excitement. yet, you remained restless, as though understanding that he had a fair share of thoughts unshared. ace feared the moment in which you’d corner him, for he’d cave to your every desire.

he sighed, clicking his tongue in deep thought. the second thereafter, ace all but choked on his food, punching his chest with certain strength. he half-noted the glass of water placed on the table, and spat a final chunk of meat at a particularly harsh slap on his back. ace’s hand gripped the cup and he chugged the liquid, tear-filled eyes observing your figure — sitting on the other side of the small table, an interested expression on your face.

“careful now, hotstuff,” you scolded, and he flushed at the name. “where have you gone this time?”

the question had increased in frequency since the death of whitebeard — his chosen father. ace was unused to the idea of sharing his pain, rather preferring to bottle it up. you respected said decision, yet, more often than not, his prolonged quietness proved itself to be obnoxious. you stated that his thoughts traveled to a place you could not reach, and in said instants, you were forced to scratch the surface of his mind and tether it to the present at hand.

“nowhere important,” ace answered, clearing his throat. you merely raised an eyebrow, well aware of the poor-crafted lie. he gave in, unable to withstand the expectating — borderline disappointed — look on your face. “promise not to be creeped out?”

“by you?” the question posed itself as though a joke; incredulous. “ace—”

“i know,” he interrupted through a sigh. “still, i would hate to leave you uncomfortable.”

“try me,” you encouraged, nothing but love explicit through your features.

ace stretched his hand, palm facing you. he coaxed your approach with a movement of his index, tensing once your wrist was pressed against his skin. he was hesitant — fearful, even — when he activated his devil-fruit, a tempting and gradual increase in his temperature. you hummed, circling your wrist on his palm, testing the waters.

“warm,” you stated matter-of-factly, tapping your fingers on his arm. ace repeated the previous action, multiplying the valor of warmth; recoiling the flames that threatened to lick your flesh. “warmer.”

ace closed his fingers around your wrist, caressing the tender inches of skin. “is it distressing? painful?”

you chuckled, moving your head in denial. “it’s soothing, ace. it’s you.”

he smiled softly, breathing in order to gather further courage. “would you mind if i tried it elsewhere?”

you blinked, growing quiet for the briefest instance, although that had been enough to bloom certain insecurities within him. ace’s lips parted, tongue prepared to spill a dozen apologies — until your hand pushed the plates and cups aside and you sat on the table, sliding towards him. ace was aghast at your willingness; your excitement.

“now?” you inquired softly, gripping the hem of your dress, legs already crossed.

“you want it now?” a stupid question, truly, when one considered the blown state of your pupils.

“please,” you pleaded, already tugging at the edges of your clothing, raising it over your head.

ace’s hands groped your breasts, cock twitching at the sight and perspective of what could be done with them. his tongue lurked out, swiping a streak of saliva up your chest. you shuddered, to which ace smirked, twitching one of your hardening nipples. his digits grew brighter as a consequence of the shift in his temperature, offering a direct source of warmth to your flesh. he tested the length of his devil-fruit, internal fire reaching the tip of his tongue. ace latched his mouth around the bud, a pathetic rut of his hips following-in-suit as a consequence of your moaning.

he grew hotter, the gradual warmthness of your own skin teasing his nose. when your fingers tugged at his hair, ace’s tongue flicked; mouth applying pressure as he sucked on the flesh of your breast, well-aware of the consecutive loss of control on his powers. it felt as though entering a forest-fire to meet its god in the center, an ever-growing heat embracing your every nerve.

your nipple grew swollen at the attention — heated and pained —, whereas his saliva was a river of liquid flames, setting you alight. his unused hand traveled down your stomach, emerging goosebumps at its temperature. he pushed your back against the table, adoration poured into each featherlight touch. you heard the sound of his knees meeting the ground; felt his palm settling on your hip-bone. a pair of heated fingers traveled through your folds, spreading your essence through the extension of it. you whimpered, for your own pre-cum had its temperature shifted; fire reaching your very core.

ace sucked on your thigh, experienced thumb drawing fast-paced circles on your once neglected clit; bright digit behaving as though the teasing of a lighter. you squirmed, and he needed but a single hand to cage your figure. his lips left a trail of sensitive bruises, before they replaced his thumb, wrapping them around the swollen bud. the tip of his burning index teased your entrance, before he shoved three fingers inside — knuckle-deep — invading your walls with unthought suddenness. you mewled, unused — however excited — with the heat; dripping cunt close to boiling.

he moaned, sending vibrations through your body. his fingers curled inside you, teasing the gummy walls; igniting your g-spot. ace rutted against the air, erection caged in between the fabric of his clothes. regardless, he neglected his own needs for the sake of your own, observing, through his eyelashes, your face contorting in pleasure. ace gripped a fistful of your thighs, the warmth of it enough to burn lonesome inches of hair. when he made a sudden worried move, intending to retreat altogether, you gripped his hair yet again, shoving his face deeper into your cunt.

“d-don’t stop,” you pleaded, trembling legs threatening to close themselves around his head.

he moaned, setting a vigorous pace. his tongue ventured through your folds, nose buried deep; teasing your clit. ace moved his head to the sides, dragging your warm essence through his chin and mouth. his tongue drew a luscious, famished stripe before he sucked on the swollen, burning clit, nearly tearing up at the saltiness coating his palate.

“fuck, babe, you taste so good,” he groaned, voice coming out muffled, for the ministrations of his mouth remained. you moaned at the compliment, arching your back at the retreat of his fingers — nails at your entrance — before he shoved them inside yet again, a relentless pace that had your cunt squeezing the digits, dripping down his palm.

your entire figure trembled, thighs caging him, feet sliding down his muscular back. ace’s tongue was molten-fire against your clit, zigzagging around it, his face covered in specks of burning pre-cum — growing reddish at the prolonged contact. curling toes; ruthless tug at his hair. he drowned on your cunt, mouth claiming every drop of your essence while his fingers abused your g-spot.

your voice was a broken choir whose words were all but variations of his name. it flared up his ego, had him switching to shove a burning tongue inside your clenching cunt; fingers parting your folds open as a set of two circled around your clit. he all but slurped; humped the air. a wet patch stained his pants, and one could smell the stench of burning fabric as he pre-cum escaped past his tip, a tide of wild flames.

“ace, ‘m close,” you mewled, breathing out heavily, eyes tethered to the sight of his soaked face.

he retreated his lips for the briefest second to press a searing, burning kiss on your entrance, smirking at your drawn-out moan. the pace of his fingers on your clit increased, and ace bit on your outer labia, his other hand pinching on your trembling thigh.

“cum for me, love,” he encouraged, yet again shoving a warm tongue inside, his chin and nose buried in your cunt.

the knot unraveled itself, and your orgasm tore you from inside-out, drowning his face. ace chased it, famished mouth claiming every droplet of cum that fell on his awaiting tongue, his fingers working still as he stimulated the tides of your high. with a final stripe of the warm muscle, ace leaned his face backwards, licking his lips and tracing the cum that lingered on his chin. he shoved a thumb inside his mouth, sucking the rest of it; removing the finger with a pop. his flesh had a shade pale pink where your essence had touched.

ace spread your legs and got on his feet, eyes tethered to the sight of your bare body on the table, sweat-etched skin glistening under the natural light. “it was a delicious appetizer.”

you laughed then, opening your arms — a solace, whose walls he could rest within. ace’s glance softened ever-so-slightly at the sound, and his chest leaned forward, drawn by your sentence. “come and get the main course, hotstuff.”

his fingers fidgeted with buttons, zippers and straps, a loud groan following-in-suit when his erection slapped against his stomach. swollen, leaking tip sensitive enough to make him hiss due to the merest brush of the wind. ace buried his face on your neck, licking the sweat off your flesh as his hand blindly aligned his shaft with your entrance. the girth slid in with fair easiness, the reminiscing drops of your previous orgasm mingling; enveloping the neglected head.

when ace bottomed out, the pair of you moaned in unison. your nails dug on his back as his hips set a languid pace, flushed tip reaching deep into your g-spot. his cock was a conflagration, forcing your walls to match the absurd temperature, shared heat enhancing both of your senses; increasing the sensitivity. the legs of the table complained at every harsh, wild thrust, balls slapping your ass as he hammered himself inside — sudden retreat of the tip; aggressive shove of the base until he had you filled with his girth. you babbled a sequence of compliments that had him twitching; drooling inside.

your legs wrapped around his waist, and both his hands settled themselves on the back of your thighs. his mouth sang luscious moans as his tongue and teeth bruised the skin of your neck — visible marks; explicit claim of what was his. ace’s pace grew erratic at the approach of his orgasm, the warmth leaving him sensitive to the point of embarrassment. your walls sucked him in, a famished, selfish lover that wished for nothing but to milk him dry.

when he pressed his forehead against yours, the act itself held an intimacy he once could ever dream of having with another, and the act itself soothed the once miserable soul of a child unwanted. ace breathed out into your mouth, words failing him as you nodded, increasing the strength of your legs around him.

“cum inside,” you cried out, raking your nails down his tattooed back. “want it—want you, all of you.”

ace struggled to keep his eyes open as he shot his load into you. it was of an alarming heat, leaving a lingering burning sensation on his tip. you mewled, sobbing as fire incarnated smeared your sensitive walls, leaving but a trail of metaphorical ashes in its wake. ace pressed butterfly-kisses on your face, lips claiming dried tears and accumulated sweat. his thrusts assumed a slower pace, a final chase of his high until the both of you were left a frail, exhausted mingle of bodies. his hands left your thighs; your legs fell, limp, dangling from the table.

the merest glance at your lover’s face had your eyes widening, hands pushing his chest. “don’t you dare, ace! the table will break—”

he collapsed into you, shifting your bodies at the last second. wood gave in to his weight, and his back all but met the ground, arms encircling your figure as your side was pressed to his chest. ace caressed your ass, mumbling about how he needed to clean you properly — and snoring thereafter.

you snorted, caressing his cheek. “sleep well, hotstuff.”

— 🐈‍⬛ : happy late kinktober, time is a concept!

#kinktober 2024 #one piece #op x reader #op #one piece x reader #one piece x you #op x you #one piece smut #op x y/n #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas ace smut #ace x reader #ace smut #ace x you #ace x y/n

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arkaiveofurown · 15 days ago

Note

i LOVED how many today it was such a great fanfic like the rest of your fanfics. idkk if your taking requests or just wanna talk.

if you are taking requests I'd love to see Some nami, robin, or usopp fluff!!(or angst)

if you're not I just wanna say my appreciation for your writing!!

Kissed and Stunned

Pairings: Usopp x Reader, Robin x Reader, Nami x Reader

You made the first move and kissed them, but instead of kissing back, they froze. What happens next? Awkward pauses, honest conversations, and maybe a little unexpected sweetness as you both sort through the moment.

Word Count: ~1000 - 1,500

tag: fluff

my masterlist here ♡

----

a/n: yay 'how many today' is one of my most favorite fanfics i wrote as well :D thank you so much for appreciating my fics BLUSHING REAL HARD RN tehee. also, thanks for requesting these characters (esp my wifey nico robin) as i wanna give writing abt others a try too!

----

Usopp

The sun was roasting the deck, and there was Usopp, knee-deep in his usual mess of random parts and string, looking like he was auditioning for a crazy inventor role.

You strolled over with that I’m-about-to-do-something-you-won’t-see-coming grin.

“Hey, Sniper. Whatcha building this time?”

He didn’t even glance up, just waved a hand vaguely. “Future weapon, duh. It’ll shoot further and hit harder, guaranteed.”

“Sure it will,” you teased. “Hey, wanna test something?”

He squinted suspiciously. “Test what? If you’re going to blow up the ship again, count me out.”

You crouched beside him, fingers hovering over the bits and pieces. “Nah, just... this.”

Before he could blink, you leaned in and kissed him—quick, but full of promise.

He froze so hard it was like the world hit pause. His eyes blew wide, mouth opening, closing, then opening again like a fish out of water.

“W-w-wait! W-what?!” Usopp scrambled backward, nearly knocking over his pile of parts. “Did you just—did you seriously just—kiss me?!”

He rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks burning like he’d been shot with a flamethrower. “I mean, I’m flattered or whatever, but also—what the heck?!”

You just grinned, loving his panicked expression.

“I gotta say, you’re full of surprises,” he added, eyes darting around like he expected a hidden camera crew.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad, was it?” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly.

“Bad? No! Shocking! Jaw-dropping! Heart-stopping!” He threw up his hands dramatically, then lowered his voice: “But also... kind of... amazing??”

You laughed. “I’ll take ‘amazing.’”

He gave you a crooked smile, scratching his head. “Okay, okay, but what do I do now? Do I kiss you back? Freeze forever? Run away screaming?”

“Maybe just... chill,” you teased. “Or build me a slingshot that shoots kisses instead of stones.”

His eyes lit up, excitement bubbling back through the nerves. “Now that I can do! But I’m warning you—my kisses might pack a punch!”

You shook your head, laughing. “I’m ready.”

Usopp grinned wider, a little less frozen, a little more himself again. “Alright then. Let’s see if this new weapon can handle the pressure.”

----

Usopp slumped back onto the deck, careful not to drop his bits and pieces everywhere again. His fingers toyed nervously with a tiny wooden gear as he kept stealing quick glances your way.

“So… uh,” he started, voice cracking like a kid about to confess, “do you usually just kiss people outta nowhere? Like some crazy pirate bandit or something?”

You grinned. “Only the ones who kinda deserve it.”

He blinked, eyes huge. “Wow. Brave. Or nuts. Or both.”

“Maybe a little nuts,” you teased.

He leaned forward, resting his chin on his fist, like he was trying to look serious but failing hard. “Okay, real talk: does that mean you… like me? Like, really like me? Not just ‘you’re the ship’s sniper and we’re crewmates’ kind of like?”

You shrugged, trying to act casual but your heart was pounding. “Yeah, I think I do.”

Usopp’s eyes got even bigger, if that was possible. “No way! But, um, you know I’m a total disaster, right?”

You tilted your head, waiting.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck, smiling sheepishly. “I mess up. Like, a lot. I’m scared of… everything sometimes. And I’m not the strongest or fastest. But I try, y’know? Like with this stupid weapon—”

You cut him off with a warm smile. “That’s exactly why I like you. You never give up.”

He looked down at the gear in his hand, voice softening. “Really?”

“Really.”

There was a pause. Just the creak of the ship and the waves.

“So…” Usopp finally said, sounding like he was both terrified and excited, “what now? Do I get to kiss you? Or should I wait for another one of those crazy moments?”

You reached out and lightly touched his arm. “You can try. But fair warning—I might beat you to it.”

He swallowed hard, then grinned nervously. “Challenge accepted.”

----

The sun was just starting to warm the deck when you spotted Usopp fiddling with his newest invention near the mast. He looked way too focused, his tongue poking out a bit, completely unaware you were watching.

You stepped closer, smiling. “Hey, Sniper. Working on your ‘future weapon’ again?”

He jumped, eyes widening like you’d scared him. “Ah! You’re here early.”

You chuckled. “Could say the same. You okay?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, yeah. Just… thinking.”

You crouched next to him, eyes curious. “About what?”

He hesitated, then blurted out, “About you.”

You blinked. “Me?”

He nodded fast. “Yeah. Since… you know… the other day.”

You smiled, waiting.

“I keep replaying that moment,” he said, fingers nervously twisting a wire. “And I thought… maybe I should stop freaking out and actually do something about it.”

Your heart picked up.

He swallowed hard, looked up, and before you could react—

He grabbed your arm, pulled you close, and kissed you.

It wasn’t a quick peck. It was awkward, nervous, and completely sincere. His lips trembled a little, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to will himself not to mess it up.

When he pulled back, he looked mortified, cheeks blazing red.

You just stared for a second, then burst out laughing.

“Wow, Usopp,” you said between laughs. “That was… unexpected.”

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, voice small. “Yeah, well, I’m full of surprises.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Guess that was your ‘fun’ invention.”

He grinned, finally relaxing. “You bet it was.”

----

Nami

It started during a supply run in a port town that was way too sunny and way too crowded for its own good. You and Nami had split off from the crew, tasked with gathering maps, weather charts, and whatever snack Luffy had yelled about on the way out.

Nami stood with her arms crossed outside a cart of tangerines, haggling like her life depended on it.

“No, that’s robbery. 700 berries for bruised fruit? What do you take me for?”

The vendor sputtered. “But miss—”

She shoved a bag back into his hands with a sugar-sweet smile. “Try again.”

You leaned against the cart with a smirk. “You do realize we’re only here for one bag, right?”

She turned to you. “You say that now, but we’re gonna need all of these when Luffy eats half the ship’s supplies in two days.”

She had a point.

As she talked the vendor down with ridiculous precision, you just watched her—smart, sharp-tongued, completely in control. So much so, that it made your chest ache a little.

“Seriously,” you said after a moment, “do you even know how cool you are when you do that?”

She blinked. “Do what?”

“This,” you gestured vaguely. “Take over a whole conversation, bend people backward with a smile, and somehow make fruit into a threat.”

She laughed under her breath. “It’s called being competent. You should try it sometime.”

“No, I’m serious.”

Her smile faltered just a little.

You reached for a tangerine and turned it over in your hand, heart suddenly racing. “I just… I’ve always liked watching you work. It’s kinda infuriating how good you are at it.”

“Flattery won’t get you out of carrying these bags back,” she said, but her voice was softer.

You looked at her again, and she was still smiling—but there was that little furrow in her brow she got when something confused her. Or made her nervous.

And for whatever reason, that felt like your cue.

You stepped forward and kissed her.

Just once. Just enough. Just to get it out of your system before your courage bailed.

She froze.

Like froze froze—arms stiff at her sides, breath caught in her throat, face stuck mid-expression like someone had yanked the power cord out.

Then:

“W-WHAT—?!”

The tangerine slipped from her hand and hit the dirt with a sad little thump.

“WHAT WAS THAT?! YOU—YOU KISSED ME!! IN PUBLIC?! WHILE I’M HOLDING PRODUCE?!”

You stepped back, startled. “I—uh—yeah?”

She clutched her face, then shoved her hands in her hair, then spun a full 360° on the spot like her brain was rebooting in real time.

“OH MY GOD—WHY—HOW—WHY?!”

“I don’t know! I panicked!”

“You panicked and your solution was mouth contact?!”

“I—! It wasn’t supposed to be—!”

“You absolute idiot!!”

She jabbed a finger at you like she was issuing a storm warning.

“You can’t just ambush-kiss someone like that! What if I’d dropped the whole bag? What if someone saw? What if—what if I kissed you back?!”

You blinked. “Would that have been bad?”

“I—THAT’S NOT THE POINT!!”

She whirled back to the fruit stand, grabbed the bag with far more force than necessary, and stomped off in a puff of tangled emotions and citrus scent.

You didn’t move for a solid minute.

The vendor leaned in and whispered, “You want a second bag for her or for your funeral?”

----

You figured she needed space.

You hoped she needed space.

Because she didn’t say a word for the rest of the supply run. Not when you carried the bags. Not when you tripped into a crate of turnips. Not even when you handed her Luffy’s stupid seaweed snack like it was a peace offering.

Nothing.

She just marched ahead like her heels were setting fire to the dirt path. Bags swinging. Shoulders locked. Jaw tight.

Back on the Sunny, you barely made it up the gangplank before she turned, shoved the bags into your arms, and said, “Meet me in the crow’s nest. Ten minutes.”

Then she vanished.

And now you were here. Sitting on the floor, watching the door. Sweating.

The room was quiet except for the sound of gulls and your heart trying to beat its way out of your ribs.

Finally, it creaked open.

She stepped inside, eyes sharp but cheeks tinged pink like she was trying not to admit something. Arms crossed, she perched on the edge of the bench, shooting you a sideways glance.

“Okay,” she said, voice low but not unkind. “That was... unexpected.”

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, sorry about that. I just—”

“No, no. It’s not that,” she interrupted, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s just... don’t do that in public.”

You blinked.

“Public?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the whole crew might be watching like they could caught us smuggling treasure or something.”

You grinned. “Got it. No surprise kisses during supply runs.”

She chuckled softly, then turned serious for a moment.

“Just... next time, maybe give me a warning. Like, ‘Hey, I’m gonna kiss you now, brace yourself.’”

You laughed. “A warning? That sounds less fun.”

Nami shrugged but her smile stayed. “Maybe. But it beats the look you gave me. I thought I’d been hit by a cannonball.”

You shook your head, feeling lighter than you had all day.

“So,” she said, standing and brushing off her pants, “we still have a ship to supply and a navigator who’s hungry.”

You grabbed the bags, following her out.

“Deal,” you said. “Next time, warning first.”

She glanced back with that smirk. “Good.”

----

The sun was setting low, casting golden streaks across the deck of the Sunny. You were perched on the railing, letting the cool sea breeze wash over your heated cheeks, still replaying the awkward supply run kiss in your head.

The ship hummed with the crew settling in for the night, distant laughter and clinking dishes floating up from below.

You weren’t expecting company.

But then—

A shadow fell over you.

Before you could even turn around, Nami’s hands were on your waist, pulling you close.

Her lips brushed yours—soft, sure, and utterly unexpected.

You froze.

Eyes wide. Breath caught. Heart pounding like a storm.

This time, no panic.

No stammering.

Just stillness.

She pulled back just enough to rest her forehead against yours, her warm breath tickling your skin.

Her lips curved into that infuriatingly smug smile you’d come to both love and fear.

“I was the one who froze last time,” she teased quietly, voice full of playful triumph.

You blinked, caught off guard.

She laughed softly, the sound light and genuine.

“I guess we’re even now.”

Your mouth twitched into a grin as your body slowly relaxed, letting the moment sink in.

The sky melted into deep purples and pinks around you, but all you could focus on was the steady beat of her heart against yours.

Finally, you dared to speak.

“Well… I think you just raised the bar.”

Nami’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

“Good. That means you’ll have to keep up.”

She gave you one last squeeze before stepping back, the faint scent of tangerines lingering between you.

With a wink, she turned and strode toward the wheelhouse, confident and unshakable.

You stayed where you were, stunned and smiling like a fool, the warmth in your chest matching the glow of the setting sun.

Sometimes, you thought, being caught off guard wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

----

Robin

The Sunny’s library was quieter than usual, the rest of the crew scattered about doing their own things. Robin sat curled on the floor with a book resting on her lap, her fingers tracing the delicate illustrations of an ancient map. The soft rustle of pages filled the space.

“I didn’t know you were so into geography,” you said, stepping closer, voice light but curious.

Robin glanced up, a small smile tugging at her lips. “It’s fascinating how much history you can uncover by studying old maps. Each line tells a story.”

You perched beside her, careful not to crowd her space. “I’m more of a ‘living the story’ type,” you said with a teasing grin. “But I could stand to learn a thing or two from you.”

She gave a short laugh. “I suppose we all have our strengths. I prefer to think of it as a way to prepare for what’s ahead.”

You tilted your head, watching how her dark eyes caught the light. “You make it sound like we’re all just pawns in some grand chess game.”

“Perhaps,” she said softly. “But it’s one I intend to play well.”

There was a pause, the silence filling with the hum of the ship rocking gently on the waves.

“So,” you said, heart pounding a little more than you expected, “what do you do when you’re not buried in books and ancient texts?”

Robin’s smile deepened, amused and maybe a little shy. “I enjoy... quiet conversations. Like this one.”

Your cheeks warmed. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Before you could stop yourself, the words escaped: “I think you’re... interesting.”

Robin blinked, eyes widening just a fraction, then she tilted her head with a subtle smile.

Encouraged, you leaned in — lips brushing hers softly.

She froze.

Eyes wide.

Breath caught.

For a moment, time stopped — the book slipping from her hands to the floor unnoticed.

No stammering.

No retreat.

Just stillness.

Your heart hammered in your chest.

Then Robin slowly blinked, a small, knowing smile curling at the corners of her lips.

“That was... unexpected,” she murmured, voice low, almost amused.

You swallowed hard, cheeks flushed. “Sorry. I just... had to.”

Her gaze softened, gentle as moonlight. “You startled me. But not unpleasantly.”

----

The days that followed, you caught Robin stealing glances your way, always calm, always collected—yet somehow different.

One evening on deck, the sky awash with stars, you sat side by side, letting the silence speak.

“You didn’t pull away after that kiss,” you said quietly.

Robin smiled faintly, tracing patterns in the wood. “I was frozen, yes. But also curious.”

“Curious how?”

She looked at you then, eyes shining with rare openness. “About what this means… for us. For me.”

You reached out, fingers brushing hers gently. “There’s no rush. We can figure it out together.”

She nodded slowly, voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not used to letting my guard down. But with you... I might try.”

The breeze carried her words away softly, and your chest tightened with something warm and new.

“Will you kiss me back?” you teased lightly.

Robin’s lips quirked into a sly smile. “Perhaps. When I’m ready.”

----

A few nights later, on the same quiet deck, Robin finally broke the silence, voice low and steady.

“I’ve spent so much of my life running from things... from people.”

You shifted closer. “I get that. It’s hard to trust when you’ve been hurt before.”

She nodded slowly. “Exactly. And sometimes, it feels safer to stay distant.”

You held her gaze. “But it doesn’t have to be that way with me.”

Robin’s eyes searched yours, hesitating a moment. “With you... it’s different.”

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”

A faint smile touched her lips. “That’s what scares me.”

You blinked, surprised. “Scares you? How?”

She took a slow breath. “Because it means I have to stop running. I have to stand still and face what I’m feeling.”

You nodded slowly. “That kind of fear... it’s different from the others.”

“Yeah.” Her voice softened. “It’s the kind that makes your heart race and your mind doubt everything... but also the kind that pushes you forward.”

You smiled wider. “It sounds like a fear worth facing.”

Her eyes held yours steady, full of vulnerability you rarely saw. “With you, maybe I’m ready.”

You could feel your chest tighten, warmth flooding through you. “Me too. I’m ready.”

Slowly, carefully, she leaned in, no hesitation this time.

Her lips met yours softly, tenderly.

You didn’t freeze.

You didn’t pull away.

Just two hearts, finally brave enough to beat as one in the quiet night.

236 notes · View notes

uramakimochi · 1 year ago

Note

Could I request an ASL headcanons of them trying to make their fem s/o smile? A short summary is that their s/o had trauma and is now incapable of showing any emotions, nor they could smile now. I like to imagine that Luffy made it his life goal to atleast see her smile at him for once but can you also add Ace and Sabo?

Absolutely~ I'm sorry but i personally don't like headcanons so i wrote three scenarios, i hope it's still okay🙏

One Piece Scenario:

WHEN THEY TRY TO MAKE THEIR S/O SMILE

- Luffy Ace and Sabo x Reader -

Warnings: FEM!R, use of Y/n, fluff + angst, implied trauma but nothing is described, you can imagine whatever you want. Sabo's story is long, (they're all long but his one is longer) i'm sorry, hope it doesn't bore you.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

LUFFY (feat. the Strawhat crew)

Luffy had asked you to join his crew because he had immediately seen the potential you kept hidden, even if he didn't even know you. Your meeting was totally coincidental, but we know what Luffy is like, don't we? Once he makes a decision, there is no going back.

So you had abandoned everything to join the straw hats, because honestly, you believed that now, after what you had experienced, you had nothing left to lose. Although some members of the crew weren't totally convinced of you at the beginning, like Nami and Zoro, in a short time you managed to get used to it and all your new companions accepted you into their family without problems.

But there was one detail that hadn't escaped any of them and that was that you had never shown them your emotions. The only ones you expressed were the negative ones, like anger and sadness, but NEVER had the Strawhats seen you smile.

It was as if it were impossible for you to do so, as if your lips had been paralyzed in the same position for years, never curling upwards and never showing your teeth. You always tried to express your gratitude towards your crewmates with words, but by now you knew that you no longer had the ability to feel the joy that had been deprived of you in the past.

And although your friends had understood and accepted it, although some like Robin, Nami and Chopper had tried to take you aside and talk to you, but in vain, there was still one person who still hadn't lost heart.

Luffy still didn't understand why he never saw you smile when Zoro and Sanji were arguing like children, when Usopp and Chopper were whining in fear over something stupid or when Nami punched Brook because he wanted to see her panties. It was impossible! Smiling and being happy was something that came naturally, so why couldn't you do it?

And that was exactly what he asked you in person.

"Y/n, why do you never smile?" he asked you one day, catching you off guard.

Before you could even answer him, someone punched him in the head.

SBONK!

"DOES THIS SEEM TO BE A QUESTION TO ASK?!" Sanji and Nami's voices chorused behind him.

"Oww..." Luffy moaned in pain. "But what did i do?"

The two dragged him away, into the kitchen, under your confused eyes.

And after they had given him a long lecture about how he had the touch of an elephant in a glass shop, they then explained to him how things were. Luffy understood, but at the same time he still didn't.

"But it's unfair! How can she not feel happiness? It's impossible!"

"Luffy..." Nami sighed. "We understand that you are worried about her, in fact we all are, but this is something that should be taken with caution. It was what Y/n went through in the past that made her like this"

"We would all love to see a smile on sweet Y/n's face, but i don't think that will happen anytime soon" Sanji said, then took a drag of his cigarette sadly.

It was at that moment that Luffy automatically gave himself a personal mission and that was to make you happy again. Because he thought it was unfair that you couldn't feel the emotions everyone else felt, you didn't deserve this.

He loved you more than anything and just wanted to share his joy with you.

"Hey Y/n!" Luffy called to you waving a hand and you closed the book you were reading to pay attention to him.

Your captain gave you a huge smile, which you didn't return, but he didn't give up.

"Look what i can do!"

He squeezed his nose between two fingers and then pulled it forward, making it lengthen a few centimeters and he did the same with his ears and lips. Then he began to tie his rubbery skin as if it were a bow, only it all came out as just a funny face or a messy bow.

"Ta-da!"

You looked at him in silence for a few seconds, blinking, while Robin who was nearby smiled amusedly.

"It's funny, Luffy" you then said, reopening your book.

"Really??" Luffy asked you, his voice muffled by the knot he had created with his nose.

You nodded.

"Really. You're very funny"

Luffy smiled, satisfied with his work. He knew your tone wasn't ironic, you weren't making fun of him. You really appreciated his childish gestures and even though you thought you would've never been able to feel happiness again, being with Luffy lightened your heart and made you feel good.

And Luffy took your monotonous words as a gesture of encouragement to keep going. He would have made it, he absolutely HAD to make it.

"And then i stuffed all the food in my mouth and ran away. There was Smoker chasing me and Ace was chasing Smoker! Only i didn't realize that when i entered the inn, i had pushed them both into the wall. I was too hungry, i couldn't take it anymore!" Luffy started laughing, throwing his head back and you looked at him.

"You're such a careless Luffy" you told him. "You risk getting into some serious trouble if you're not careful"

"Shishishi! But it's a funny story, isn't it? It's a shame you weren't there. Alabasta was beautiful, but it was too hot"

Luffy started laughing again, while you went back to watching the sun set on the horizon, from sitting on the figurehead of the Sunny.

Yes, it was a funny story and you weren't too surprised by Luffy's reckless behavior and how he talked as if there was nothing to worry about. It was fun.

Time passed and Luffy never gave up.

None of the crew told him that perhaps it was better to end it, that it wasn't worth it anymore, that it was useless. No, Luffy would've never stopped. He was stubborn and that was what you and the others admired about him as your captain.

And then, if for them it seemed that there was no progress, Luffy instead was convinced that he had seen your lips lift one day. Even though it was very small, almost imperceptible, Luffy was firmly convinced that it was a hint of a smile. It meant that he wasn't far away, he was sure of it!

So Luffy continued in his quest: he told you the adventures of him and his brothers when they were little, of what had happened before you joined the crew, he told you jokes to try to make you smile and some weren't even funny, but you didn't care. You always listened to him and you always would have.

And the more Luffy kept trying to make you smile, the more it seemed to him that your lips always curved up a little more as time went by.

Then one day, while it was raining outside, Sanji called you all into the kitchen for dinner time and while you were in the bathroom washing yourself, Robin came to tell you that it was ready on the table.

When you reached everyone else and opened the door, the mass of voices of your crewmates drowned you out at once.

"You insolent idiot, don't you dare eat, everyone isn't at the table yet!" Sanji exclaimed, turning to Luffy and taking the plate away from him.

"But i'm hungry! I'm hungry Sanji! I'm hungry!" the other complained, slamming the cutlery on the table.

Nami gritted her teeth, annoyed by his complaints.

"Stop whining or i'll punch you!"

Meanwhile, Chopper and Usopp were arguing next to each other.

"Hey! Why are you stealing food from my plate?!" exclaimed the reindeer.

"No no, you're very wrong" the sniper waved a hand, whistling innocently. "I did not do anything!"

Chopper lunged at Usopp and he started screaming, trying to get him off him. Next to them, Zoro took a sip of sake, looking at them boredly.

"Yes you did! I just saw you do it, don't lie!"

"Lies? I never tell lies!"

"Hey you two, stop arguing. How annoying..."

From the other end of the table, Franky smirked amusedly.

"It's like a circus here eheh"

"Yohohoho~" Brook laughed. "If you want, i can play something to brighten up the evening"

Robin watched the scene, covering her smile with one hand.

Your eyes passed over each of your crewmates and it was in that moment, when your gaze locked on Luffy's pouting figure, that you realized that they weren't just your crewmates. They were your family.

And then, suddenly someone started laughing and in a few seconds everyone fell silent, focusing on the sound of that laughter. Everyone turned to look at you when they noticed your presence and their eyes widened as they realized that the one who was laughing out loud was you.

Luffy felt a huge smile spread across his face when he saw you. It had finally happened, you were actually laughing. Oh, and how genuine that laugh was, you could clearly hear it was a laugh that hadn't been heard in too long.

"Y/n!" Luffy exclaimed, then stretched out his arms and catapulted in front of you. But his smile fell when he saw the tears that were spilling out of your eyes and sliding down your cheeks.

"Y/n…"

Luffy tilted his head in confusion, because even though you were crying you were still laughing like there was no tomorrow.

"Y-Yes, Luffy?" You sniffed and opened your eyes to look at him, feeling his palm on your cheek trying to wipe away the tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asked you.

You shook your head, your laughter growing weaker and weaker. The tears continued to flow, but your lips remained curved upwards in a trembling smile.

"S-Sorry it’s just that…" you raised a hand to cover his on your face. "These are tears of joy, Luffy"

"Huh? Joy? So..." Luffy's eyes widened again when he realized. "Wait, so you're happy now??"

You nodded, squeezing his fingers.

"I am. And it's all thanks to you. And everyone else too. Because when i'm with our crew i can forget everything that happened. And you Luffy, you never gave up. Thanks to you i found every day the strength to move forward. Thank you for everything you have done for me. Thank you all, guys"

Behind Luffy, Franky, Usopp and Chopper were crying tears of emotion, while everyone else gave you happy smiles.

"I'm so happy to see you smile Y/n!" Luffy exclaimed, closing his eyes. "Everyone deserves to be happy, it wasn't fair that all of us were happy except you"

You looked at him tenderly with your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn't felt this way in too long. It was so beautiful.

Then Luffy removed his hand from your cheek.

"Look!"

He pinched his cheeks with his fingers and pulled them, stretching his face into various shapes.

"Ta-da!"

And this time you started laughing again, while more tears continued to come out of your eyes and Luffy started laughing too, hearing your laughter mixed with sobs. Luffy knew in that moment that his mission was accomplished.

And outside, in the sky, the rain stopped, as the sun began to set.

ACE (feat. the Whitebeard Pirates)

You were part of Whitebeard's crew even before Ace joined. Whitebeard had invited you to join knowing the weight of your past that you carried on your shoulders and you had accepted. From the first moment you considered Whitebeard as the father you never had and all the commanders had welcomed you into the crew as if you were their younger sister.

They were your new family and you loved each of them and you tried in every way to demonstrate the immense gratitude you felt for them. But you couldn't.

The ghosts of the past tormented you day and night and you had lost the ability to feel happiness. It seemed impossible to you and yet it had happened. But that didn't make your brothers and father love you any less, on the contrary, they had become very protective of you because of that. The only one after your father who you were closest to ever was Marco, who had taken you under his wing (no pun intended) from day one.

And when Ace joined the crew he asked him about you.

"Oi. Is that Y/n like, depressed or something?"

Let's remember that initially Ace didn't want to be part of Whitebeard's crew and was quite grumpy. So the way he said that question didn't please the phoenix man at all.

"If you talk about her like that again i swear i'll throw you into the sea in your sleep" he told him threateningly.

When things calmed down between Ace and Whitebeard, the former found the courage to ask the captain what happened to you. And this time he did it more delicately.

So Whitebeard explained the situation to him and Ace understood why all the commanders were particularly touchy when it came to you.

"We've tried for a long time, but it was all in vain" Whitebeard sighed. "We have never seen that girl smile. We have seen her cry with sadness, scream with anger and paralyze with fear. But we have never seen the shadow of a smile on that beautiful, pure and innocent face of hers. But we have accepted her for what she is. And we will never abandon her because of this"

Ace retreated to his quarters with his head in the clouds.

He had interacted with you often, but he didn't believe that a person like you would hide such a tormented past. But Ace had grown fond of you and therefore decided that to make up for how he had behaved during the period of his arrival, he would've made you relive your happiness.

He would have done it for you, for Whitebeard and for your brothers.

"Good morning Y/n"

You lifted your head from your plate to greet Ace, who had just joined you for breakfast.

"Good morning Ace. Did you sleep well?"

"Like an angel. What about you?"

"Good enough"

Ace chewed a piece of bread.

"You know" he said. "Today is a beautiful day and the sun is shining. If only i hadn't eaten a devil fruit i would go for a swim"

You frowned at him, not understanding what he was getting at. Then he swallowed the bite and looked at you with a smirk.

"But i'm already drowning in your eyes anyway~"

The dining room fell silent and everyone in the room turned to look at him. Marco and Izo, who were sitting on either side of you, opened their eyes and mouths wide. A little further away, Thatch and Whitebeard smirked in amusement.

"You did NOT just say that in front of me..." Izo muttered with a disgusted expression.

Ace blushed like a tomato and to avoid Marco's murderous gaze he moved his eyes to you, to see your reaction. You blinked at him and then quickly lowered your head to your bowl, starting to eat again.

"It was a little embarrassing, don't you think?" you asked, squeezing a hand nervously under the table.

"B-But it was funny, wasn't it?" Ace asked.

And you nodded silently, making him smile. It was a small step, wasn't it?

Marco turned to Whitebeard.

"Pops!"

But Whitebeard just laughed from his chair.

"Gurarara, nothing happened Marco. It's just a joke"

For a while Ace continued with the pickup lines, since he was sure that on the inside you found them funny and even if he liked seeing your embarrassed look and your red cheeks, your lips never showed the slightest hint of a smile. So he tried to change his strategy.

"What are those two doing?" Marco muttered, observing you and Ace on the deck of the ship.

"More like what are you doing" Thatch retorted, hands on hips. "Are you spying on them?"

"Ace is acting strange. I don't understand what he wants to do with Y/n" the blond retorted, narrowing his eyes at Ace.

Thatch came to his side.

"He's just trying to do what we did too. Pops told me"

Marco pursed his lips.

"Don't you think he will make her suffer more than she already is?"

Thatch shook his head with a smile.

"Nah. Ace cares about her, you know? In fact, he's obsessed with her. And so is she"

Then Thatch placed a hand on Marco's shoulder.

"Give him a chance. Pops trusts him. And then..." he said, pointing at your figures with a finger. "I don't think she's sad at all right now"

Marco realized how at that moment, your eyes were wide open and fixed on the fiery figures that Ace was creating in the sky with his powers. They shone in wonder at the sight that lit up the night sky above the Moby Dick.

And while your gaze was pointed upwards, Ace's was fixed on your face, which was making him fall in love more and more.

"Ace!"

Ace could hear your voice calling out to him. But it was muffled and so far away.

"Please hold on! Stay with us! Ace!"

Ace didn't understand. What the hell was going on? Why couldn't he see anything? Where were you? Was he dying? No, he absolutely couldn't allow that. After everything he was doing to fulfill his mission, he couldn't afford to leave you for something stupid like that.

After seconds that seemed endless, Ace found the strength to open his eyes. He wanted to move, but as soon as he tried to, a bolt of pain shot through his chest and he hissed in pain.

"Stay still"

Ace's eyes fell on the figure of Marco, who was walking around the room. Ace looked around and realized he was on a bed in the Moby Dick infirmary.

"Do you remember what happened?" the blond asked him, looking at him from behind his glasses.

Ace nodded, remembering everything. One minute he and everyone else were fighting and the next someone had hit him from behind. Then he remembered your voice, calling him desperately.

Ace looked down at his chest, which was bandaged and then noticed the figure who was sleeping with her head resting on her arms, which in turn were crossed on the mattress, next to his body. Ace felt his heart start beating again when he saw your hand holding his in his sleep, warming it with your warmth.

"You gave us a scare, especially to her" Marco murmured, trying not to wake you. "She's been here the whole time"

Marco approached the bed and placed a blanket over your shoulders, before gently rubbing your back.

"I'm relieved you're okay" the blond then said.

"I thought you hated me" Ace retorted.

Marco shrugged.

"We know what you're doing for her. And we're all grateful. And i'm sure she is, too. Even though it may not seem like it"

Ace opened his eyes slightly, surprised by his words.

"Do you really believe that?"

Marco nodded.

"If you keep doing this, i know you will succeed where we failed. Now rest, you need it"

Ace didn't have to be told twice and closed his eyes, abandoning himself to the presence of your touch.

When Ace reopened his eyes, he saw your face again and the blinding daylight coming through the infirmary windows.

"Ace!"

He didn't even have time to realize it, that you threw yourself onto his body, hugging his neck with all your strength.

"Thank goodness you're okay!"

Ace smiled and placed a hand on your back, but couldn't stop himself from making the noise of pain that the wound on his chest was causing him.

"Oh shoot, i'm sorry!" you exclaimed, immediately pulling away from him. "I didn't mean to hurt you"

Ace waved a hand.

"It's no problem, don't worry. Are you okay?"

You looked at him with teary eyes.

"Oh Ace…" you murmured. "After everything that happened to you, how can you still worry about me?"

"Well, are you sure you're not tired?" he asked you again.

And before you could respond he continued.

"Because you've been running through my mind all day~" he said with a smirk, accompanied by a wink.

You looked at him silently, eyes wide. That's when Ace saw you lower your head, covering your face with your hair. And then, after a few seconds, he saw your shoulders move in small spasms.

Ace widened his eyes, thinking you were crying and reached out to you.

"Y/n, i'm sorry-"

When his fingers brushed your shoulder, you raised your head to look at him. And to his shock, Ace realized that you were actually giggling.

"D-Does this feel like the time to say your stupid jokes?" You murmured, as if trying to hold back the laughter that was slowly escaping your lips.

Ace noticed a couple of tears coming out of your eyes, but you quickly wiped them away with your hands. He smiled and remembering the first time he told you one of his pickup lines, he said...

"But it was funny, wasn't it?"

You nodded, still giggling and covered your mouth with your hand. Ace looked at you tenderly, as he felt his heart warm with each passing second.

"You have a beautiful laugh, you know?" he asked you.

You looked at him, managing to stop laughing for a few seconds, while Ace continued.

"I'm glad i was able to make you smile. Pops and the others wanted it so much. And i wanted it too"

You reached out to his hand, stroking the back of it with your thumb, then brought his palm to cover your cheek.

"I thought i lost you Ace. And seeing that you're okay makes me happy. More than anything"

You looked at each other with sweet smiles and Ace could see in your eyes all the affection you felt for him. So he gathered courage and leaned forward until your lips touched softly. After a few seconds he pulled away.

"Well, if i had known that just ending up in a hospital bed was enough to make you happy, i would have done it a lot sooner"

At those words you couldn't help but burst out laughing, quickly covering your face with your hands.

"D-Don't say that!" you said mortified. "You make me look like a bad person!"

And Ace chuckled back, joining you.

At that moment, unbeknownst to you, certain commanders of a certain emperor's fleet and that emperor himself were gathering outside the infirmary door, trying not to be heard. And when they heard the sweet sound of your laughter for the first time, they felt their eyes become shiny.

"She's laughing!" Vista murmured. "Our darling little sister is laughing with joy!"

"Oh, i'm so happy!" continued Blamenco.

Whitebeard sniffed, but refrained from crying, unlike his sons, and he glanced at Marco, who was rubbing his eyes from behind his glasses, biting his lower lip.

Ace's voice rang out in the infirmary again.

"I'd offer you a cigarette but you're already smokin' hot~"

"Ace!" you called out to him between laughs, feeling your cheeks heat up under your palms.

He too continued to laugh and then he grimaced in pain, putting a hand to his chest.

"Thank you Ace"

Was what Whitebeard thought, looking back at you and Ace with a tender gaze.

"You saved her"

SABO (feat. the Revolutionary Army)

With Sabo i imagine a scenario that is similar to Senor Pink's backstory. (From Dressrosa arc but there are no spoilers)

You were both part of the Revolutionary Army, but you didn't always were together in missions. Sabo was sorry about this, especially because he was quite protective of you and despite being aware of your fighting skills, he was always afraid for you.

That day was a day like many others, where you and Sabo had said goodbye to each other by exchanging a kiss, you on his cheek and him on your forehead, and then wishing each other good luck, separating and going on your missions.

Sabo and Koala returned after a month and they both couldn't wait to see you and have a chat about the adventures you had. But when the two entered the headquarters, they did not expect the silence that reigned inside the room to welcome them. Usually when someone from the army returned from a mission after a long time, there was a celebration and when it came to Sabo and Koala you were the first to run to greet them.

Not surprisingly, Sabo immediately noticed your absence, but initially didn't give it too much thought, thinking that you were just busy with Dragon.

"Sabo"

Sabo lifted his head, meeting Ivan's gaze and when he noticed his less than happy tone and worried look, it didn't take him long to connect the dots.

Koala flashed him a smile.

"Hi Ivan-"

"Where is Y/n?" Sabo interrupted, taking a step forward.

Ivankov sighed, knowing there was no point beating around the bush with Sabo.

"In the infirmary" he only said.

Sabo passed him without waiting for him and Koala, heading towards the infirmary at full speed.

When he entered, throwing open the doors with force, he expected to find all kinds of dark scenarios, like you with a body full of bandages, you bleeding, or worse...

But he didn't expect to see your body under the covers of the infirmary bed, lying on its side in a fetal position, with your back facing him. Sabo wasted no time and ran in front of you, immediately taking your hand in his.

"Y/n!"

You opened your eyes when you heard his voice and Sabo immediately noticed how your eyes seemed emptier since the last time he saw you.

"Sabo... You're back"

Sabo looked at you worriedly, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb.

"What happened??" he asked frantically, looking from your eyes to the band-aid on your cheek.

But you just bit your lower lip, not having the strength to answer him and after your eyes filled with tears, you started crying in front of his eyes. Sabo looked at you, his heart breaking more and more with every tear he saw and every sob he heard.

"Y/n… Hey…" he murmured, placing his other hand on your cheek. He tried to comfort you in every way possible, but to no avail.

Then, Ivankov's voice called him again.

"Sabo"

Slowly Sabo raised his head towards the infirmary door and saw Dragon's figure in the doorway, next to Ivan's. Then, behind him, Koala reached him and after placing a hand on his shoulder she gave him a smile.

"I'll stay with her" said the girl.

Sabo gave you one last look, hoping he could look you in the eyes one more time, but you were too busy crying and you were even trying to hide your face under the bed sheet.

He quickly stood up, whispering a "I'll be right back" to you, then joined Ivan and Dragon. After the three exited the infirmary, they went to Dragon's office to talk in private and as soon as the door closed behind them, Sabo began to speak.

"What happened in that mission?? Who the hell made her like that?!"

"Sabo-"

"Tell me Ivan!" the blond interrupted abruptly, clenching his fists at his sides.

But Dragon and Ivan didn't take offense at his angry tone, because they knew him and they knew that when it came to you or his brothers, Sabo could lose his temper in seconds.

"They caught us off guard" Ivan said calmly, but still sadly. "Everything was going as planned, but someone probably discovered our plan and managed to get ahead of us. And Y/n..."

Ivan continued to talk and the more he went on, the more it didn't seem true to Sabo. Why did what happened have to happen to you? What did you do wrong?

"There's a bigger problem" Dragon then interjected, catching Sabo's attention. "What she suffered put her into a sort of depressive state. It's as if she's costantly tired and none of us were able to get her out of bed of her own free will"

"We can only get her to move to go to the bathroom..." Ivan continued. "For the rest she has always remained in bed and eats very little"

Sabo remained silent, shocked.

"I'm sorry Sabo" Ivan concluded then, lowering his head, feeling humiliated under the blond's gaze. "Y/n is suffering because of me, because i failed to protect her. If you're angry with me i understand, i-"

"Ivan"

Ivankov looked back at Sabo with teary eyes when he heard him call him.

"Yes?" he asked, sniffling.

"It's not your fault and i'm not angry with you, really" the other said calmly, trying to smile, although he couldn't. "I'm sure you all did your best"

Sabo turned his back to him and lowering his head, he clenched his fists at his sides again. The more he thought about what they had told him, about what you had suffered, without him, the more he felt his heart burning with anger inside his chest.

"But please, tell me..." he said, gritting his teeth. "Tell me that at least those bastards got what they deserved. Tell me you didn't let them get away with it. I need to know this, Ivankov"

Ivan nodded solemnly.

"We took care of it, i promise Sabo"

"Good"

After asking for permission to leave, Sabo left and obviously returned to the infirmary, to make up for all the time he had lost without you.

And even though he believed that Ivan and Dragon's words were exaggerated and didn't want to believe them, unfortunately Sabo realized that they were true about you.

After he left on his mission he just couldn't wait to get back to you and spend time with you, doing everything he could to make you happy. But despite him coming to keep you company in the infirmary every single day, Sabo still hadn't seen the slightest shadow of your beloved smile on your face. And he missed that so much.

Not to mention what happened in the infirmary: Sabo tried to interact with you in every way possible, but aside from the day he and Koala returned, it was like you didn't even notice he was there. He spent all his time holding your hand, caressing you, kissing you and telling you little stories to entertain the time. But he never had a full reaction, other than simple words or noises of approval and disapproval. You laid on the bed in the same position for hours and hours, just staring out of the window.

The more time passed, the more Sabo didn't know what to do. Koala tried to stay close to him, talk to him and give him some advice, like taking some time to take care of himself too, because staying in that state wasn't good for him or you.

"No!" he told her with determination. "I'm not going to lose Y/n like this. It's not fair at all. I won't give up Koala, i won't give up until i have the same Y/n as before. I won't give up until i see her smiling again like she used to!"

Sabo started with the flowers.

Every week, on the advice of Koala, Betty and Ivankov, he brought you bouquets of all kinds of flowers, always decorated with colored bows and small love notes. Now don't get it wrong, Sabo was a gentleman and he often gave you flowers even before, which you always kept in your bedroom. He hoped that by doing this, maybe he could rekindle that little flame inside your heart that fueled your love.

"Hey, good morning" Sabo carefully entered the room, hoping he hadn't disturbed you and approached your bed.

"I ordered these flowers especially for you, they come from far away" he said, sitting on the chair next to the bed. "They are rare, but they have a very particular scent and i thought you'd like them. Come on, smell them"

He handed you the bouquet of flowers, bringing it closer to your face, making sure you could smell it. After a few seconds he pulled away.

"They smell good, don't they?" he asked you with a hopeful smile.

Sabo saw your head move just a few inches, nodding.

"Mh" you hummed under your breath.

But Sabo didn't give up.

"I knew you would've liked them" he said. "The world is full of flowers you haven't seen yet, but i know you would love them all"

This time you remained silent, with your gaze regularly fixed out the window.

Sabo let out a heartbroken huff through his nose and placed the bouquet of flowers on the cabinet next to the bed. Then he leaned forward and clasped your cold hand in both of his, warming it with his gloves. He quickly glanced at all the flowers that were slowly accumulating on one of the empty beds in the infirmary. Then he looked back at you, hoping that your eyes would move to meet his, even if just for a split second. But it didn't happen.

Sabo continued with the flowers, but then he realized that there was something else you loved. Books.

Thanks to him you had rediscovered the pleasure of reading and when you spent time together, you often spent it reading with him. Sometimes you remained in the same room in silence for hours and hours, each reading a book on your own, and then commenting it. Other times, one of you would read pages to the other and vice versa, activity you often did before going to sleep. The books had become your thing.

So Sabo also began to bring a book along with the flowers. And since you didn't have the energy to sit and read with him, he spent his time reading aloud, sitting next to your bed.

He spent time reading you chapter after chapter and sometimes he even changed the tone of his voice when there was a dialogue between the characters, like when you read a fairy tale to a child. He had never done this, but he hoped that by doing it maybe you would've laughed or smiled at the way he was making a fool of himself. But nothing from you.

Until one day, Sabo entered the infirmary, greeted you with a kiss on your hair, placed the flowers on the bedside table, sat down and opened the new book he had started reading to you, like he did every day.

But this time, before he could read the first word of the chapter aloud, a hand on his knee made him slightly jump.

"Sabo" Sabo's eyes widened when he heard you say his name.

"Y-Yes?? What's wrong Y/n? Tell me everything" he said frantically, hoping he hadn't imagined it.

Suddenly you began to move on the bed and slowly sat up.

"Could you... Could you sit next to me while you read?" you asked him, your voice hoarse.

Sabo felt as if his heart had started beating again. Despite the monotone tone in which you asked him that question and your facial expression that seemed paralyzed, he knew that this only meant he was making progress.

Sabo nodded frantically, unable to hold back the smile forming on his lips. You moved away along the mattress, making room for him and he wasted no time in climbing up and sitting next to your body. Once he had settled into the most suitable position he glanced at you.

He stood stiff as a board at your silence. Your bodies were touching, yes, but at the same time it was as if they weren't. Maybe you regretted asking him? Maybe you felt uncomfortable? He decided it was best to start reading, so he cleared his throat and continued where he was about to start earlier.

Then, a few minutes later, in the middle of the narration, Sabo felt something soft touch his arm and something else rest against his shoulder. He jumped once more, stopping and turning to face you. And he realized that after so long, he could finally feel the warmth of your hand resting on his arm and the softness of your hair covering his shoulder, with your head on top of it. Oh, how he had missed that feeling.

Even though he suddenly fell silent, you didn't say anything either. You remained staring at the pages of the book, waiting for him to start again. And with a smile, that's what Sabo did.

Then one day Sabo had an idea. He wasn't sure about it, but he might as well try, right?

He entered the room and saw you sitting, with your back resting on the pillow. He reached you and if before he usually sat in the chair next to the bed, this time he sat next to your body on the edge of the mattress and took your hand. He flashed you a smile, but you didn't notice, too busy staring out the window, the only thing you did while he was gone.

Sabo continued to caress the back of your hand, then he turned to look out the window as well.

"Today is a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes it is" you replied calmly.

He slowly looked back at you.

"How... How about we go out for a walk?" he asked you slowly, fearing for your reaction.

Silence fell, but after a few seconds you turned to him and then nodded without saying anything. Sabo smiled at you and stood up, before offering you his gloved hand, which you slowly took.

He helped you to your feet and as soon as you were next to him, you wrapped your arm around his, resting your cheek against his shoulder. That gesture caught him off guard, but he recovered quickly and together you walked out of the infirmary.

The people of the army looked at you in amazement, but they refrained from commenting, even though they would have been positive comments, happy that you were improving thanks to Sabo. Sitting at a table, Ivankov opened his eyes wide with a gasp when he saw you. While Koala, next to him, smiled happily. But Sabo ignored everyone and led you out of the headquarters, even away from the new recruits who were training with Hack and Kuma.

So you spent the day walking slowly under the blue sky, arm in arm. And you did the same the following days, when the warm presence of the sun allowed you to go outside.

Usually you walked in silence, enjoying the atmosphere and the sounds of nature, but the only one of the two who every now and then said something to break the ice was Sabo, when, after pointing out a cloud in the sky, he invented its shape. And you agreed with him, even if it actually wasn't like that.

Other times, when there was a breeze that made goosebumps on your arms, Sabo wasted no time and took off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders and making sure you were well covered. You thanked him every time and even though he would have loved to see your smile, he knew that you were still grateful for his kind gestures.

Or he would start telling some stories about his brothers, about his missions with Koala or he would make you remember your dates and the good moments you had spent together and which he would've always kept in his heart. And reluctantly, you replied saying that you missed the person you used to be too.

Once your walks were over, you often became too tired to do anything else and Sabo would take you back to bed.

One evening, when darkness had fallen, Sabo gently placed your body on the infirmary bed, then covered it with the sheets. Usually he would read you a few pages of a book even before falling asleep, but since your eyes were already closed and you now seemed abandoned in the world of dreams, he decided to let you sleep.

He leaned in to kiss you on the forehead, bidding you goodnight in a whisper and when he turned to leave, you grabbed a piece of his clothes, making him stop in his tracks. Sabo turned to look at you, seeing you staring at him with eyes that were struggling to stay open.

"Stay… Please" you murmured, then moved away along the mattress, making room for him.

Sabo couldn't help but smile and he nodded.

"Of course, darling. Anything you want"

He took off his gloves, jacket and boots and settled under the covers, next to you. You wasted no time and snuggled into his body, resting your head on his chest. Sabo heard you let out a deep breath through your nose, as if you hadn't been waiting for anything but that.

He said nothing and closed his eyes, thinking he would've gone to sleep, but...

"Thank you, Sabo" he heard you say suddenly, in the middle of the silence.

Sabo lowered his head to look at you. Your eyes were still closed, but he knew you were still conscious enough to speak.

And then, in the dark of night, he finally saw it.

After all that time, Sabo saw your sweet, genuine smile slowly grow on your face, illuminated by the moon's rays.

Sabo continued to look at you in silence and couldn't stop his heartbeat, which was speeding up as the seconds passed. You could hear it clearly under your ear and continued to smile.

"I'm happy for everything you've done for me. You've brought joy back to my heart and i will be infinitely grateful to you for that" you said, clutching the clothes on his abdomen with one hand. "I couldn't have asked for a better person than you. I'm so happy to have you in my life. Thank you. I love you"

Sabo saw a couple of tears fall silently from your closed eyes and he felt his eyes becoming shiny too, but he managed to hold back. With one hand he ran his thumb gently under your eyes, wiping them of tears. He sniffed and flashed you a smile.

He had done it. After weeks and weeks of agony that he had tried so hard not to show you, he could finally feel his heart swell with joy and relief at the sight of your face that no longer reflected the pain you were feeling.

Sabo wrapped his arms around you and leaned in to give you another small series of kisses on the top of your head.

"I love you too" he murmured against your hair.

Then he closed his eyes, knowing he would've finally had a peaceful night with you by his side. And all he could think was only one thing: that he would've done anything to never make you lose your smile again.

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