What if Thorn one of the hex girls from Scooby-Doo!, what if she joined the Strawhat crew? It would be pretty interesting? ( There is no doubt, that Sanji would be under her spell real quick😏, even though she never cast a spell to begin with🤭)
Straw Hats with a rockstar crew member
Synopsis: What happens when a girl from a goth rock band meets the Straw Hats?
Pairing: Straw Hats x Witch!Guitarist!Reader
Content warning: Smut, reader x Sanji, reader x Nami, platonic relationship with everyone else, lesbian Nami, public sex, blood kink, canon violence, fingering, masturbation, hate-fucking, Sanji fell first but reader fell harder, a bit of angsty Sanji, rockstars culture (reader mentions groupies), found family.
Author note: English is not my first language.
Reader will be referred as the Witch, I apologize for my second person ‘x reader’ lovers, I find myself unable to write in anything that’s not third person 😔.
As for the person who requested this, I don’t know if this was what you had in mind, maybe I got a bit carried away.
However, I hope you enjoy it :)
It all kicked off when this strange girl, lost as hell, materialized out of thin air on the Going Merry’s deck. The Straw Hats froze, jaws dropping, as this chick—who could’ve been Dracule Mihawk’s younger, gothier sister—stood there in a black dress with a reddish sheen, looking like she’d just stepped out of a nightmare.
Striking? Sure. Terrifying? Hell yeah. Usopp nearly pissed himself when she flashed a grin, revealing two sharp fangs that screamed trouble.
“Who the hell are you, and why’re you on my ship?” Luffy blurted, tilting his head, curiosity trumping any sense of caution.
The crew was on edge, hands twitching toward weapons. Zoro’s grip tightened on his swords, Nami’s fingers hovered over her Clima-Tact, and even Chopper, trembling, looked ready to bolt. Meanwhile, Sanji? The idiot was already in love, heart-eyes popping out of his skull, drooling like a dog in heat.
“Oh, my bad,” the girl said, her voice smooth but with a dangerous edge. “I overheard you lot yapping back on the island. Figured you were heading my way. I’m kinda lost, trying to find my coven.”
Nami, still clutching her weapon, narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you just ask us for a ride, huh?”
The girl smirked, fangs glinting in the sunlight. “Not my style, darling.” That playful grin didn’t ease anyone’s nerves—except Luffy’s, of course.
“Your coven?” Luffy asked, leaning forward like she’d just offered him a plate of meat.
“Yeah, my sisters and I,” she said, adjusting the massive guitar case slung over her shoulder, next to a beat-up crossbody bag. “We’re touring the Grand Line. Got a music group, you know?”
“MUSICIANS?!” Luffy’s eyes sparkled, and he practically launched himself at her. “Oi, you gotta join our crew! We still need a musician!”
The girl blinked, clearly thrown by his enthusiasm, but the rest of the crew just sighed, used to Luffy’s reckless recruitment style. Zoro muttered something about “another weirdo,” while Usopp whispered, “Is nobody else freaked out by the fangs?”
Sanji, meanwhile, was in full simp mode. “Oh, mademoiselle,” he cooed, whipping out a rose from who-knows-where, “we’d be blessed to have such a radiant beauty grace our humble ship until you find your sisters.” He twirled, practically floating.
What he didn’t expect was her matching his energy. “Well, damn,” she purred, leaning in with a wicked smile, “I wouldn’t mind sticking around if it means a handsome gentleman like you is around.” Her fangs gleamed, and Sanji’s nose erupted in a geyser of blood as he collapsed, hearts swirling around his head.
“A doctor! We need a doctor!” Chopper squealed, hooves flailing.
Robin, calm as ever, chuckled. “Chopper, you are the doctor.”
The girl laughed, low and a little unhinged, as the crew scrambled to revive their lovesick cook. Something told them this mysterious musician was gonna be one hell of a ride.
From that chaotic moment on the Going Merry, the fanged musician temporarily joined the Straw Hats, weaving her magic into their adventures.
A good luck charm here, a hex there, and she pulled tarot readings at every port to rake in beli for Nami’s “provisional rent.”
The Witch had to admit, Nami’s ruthless money-grubbing was hot as hell, especially when she got that fiery glint in her eye, scolding her for shortchanging the crew’s funds. A little bewitching smoothed things over, striking a deal that left them both grinning, though Nami’s glare promised she’d collect every last beli eventually.
The sexual tension was thicker than the fog on the Florian Triangle. Nami and the Witch? It was a slow burn toward a hate-fuck for the ages, fueled by unpaid debts and sly winks. Then there was Sanji, the horny bastard, who was head over heels, serving up flowers, love letters dripping with poetry, and heart-shaped desserts just for her. The man was a walking romance novel, declaring his devotion every chance he got, practically begging to be her personal chef and footstool. But the Witch noticed Sanji pulled the same shtick with every woman who crossed his path.
Womanizer? Nah, the guy was too pathetic for that. His charm worked maybe once in a blue moon, but most ladies just rolled their eyes and walked away. Still, his intensity was kinda cute, like a lovesick puppy with a cigarette.
The Witch couldn’t help but think he’d taste as sweet as his desserts, and she was damn tempted to find out.
Amid all the horny chaos, real friendship bloomed. The Straw Hats were just as weird as her, pirate style, and the only thing setting her apart was her vampire-chic wardrobe. Robin became her instant soulmate, their dark humor and love for the morbid sparking late-night chats about cursed relics and forbidden lore. Chopper, skittish at first, warmed up fast after Robin vouched for her. One “you’re the cutest doctor I’ve ever seen” from the Witch, and the little reindeer was putty in her hands, trailing after her and Robin like a kid brother, blushing at every compliment.
Zoro, though? He was a tough nut, always squinting at her like she might sprout Mihawk’s mustache and challenge him to a duel. The guy was paranoid she was Mihawk’s secret daughter, sent to slice him up. One drunken night, he blurted out his fear, and she cackled in his face, “I don’t even know that guy!” Zoro’s face turned redder than Sanji’s nosebleeds, but he respected her for keeping his dumbass confession quiet. From then on, they shared a silent bond, trading nods over sake and sword-sharpening sessions.
Usopp was a lost cause, jumping out of his skin every time she appeared, convinced her fangs were out for his blood.
Luffy, of course, didn’t give a shit about the spook factor. “Play us a song!” he’d demand, bouncing like a kid at a festival. The Witch obliged, strumming her guitar and belting out eerie tunes she’d performed with her coven—songs laced with subtle spells.
Sanji declared himself her number-one groupie, swearing he’d be front row at her next tour, screaming louder than anyone, probably fainting from his own nosebleeds.
During their wild ride together, Sanji’s luck with the Witch hit the jackpot more than once. The lovesick cook poured his heart into his usual gentlemanly antics—flowers, sweet talk, trays of desserts—never expecting them to actually work. But after a brutal battle where he went full Black Leg, shielding the Witch from a savage enemy, she lost all control.
Under a full moon, her senses screamed, a primal hunger clawing at her gut.
Sanji turned to check on her, only to freeze under her gaze. Those glowing eyes, sharp with desire, tore through his cool, collected fighter vibe, leaving him a flustered mess. The Straw Hats were scattered across the woods, cleaning up the fight’s aftermath, so the Witch didn’t hesitate, no shame in her game. The enemy lay sprawled on the dirt—dead, unconscious, who gave a shit—and she stalked toward Sanji like a predator, her fangs glinting. The Black-Leg Sanji, the guy who could kick through steel, felt his knees buckle under her stare.
She didn’t waste a second, lunging for a kiss that was all teeth and hunger, clashing with Sanji’s polished charm. He was pinned against a tree, her lips devouring his, and when her fangs nicked his lip, drawing blood, the sharp sting sent him spiraling into a haze of filthy thoughts. He whimpered and she drank it in, her kisses growing hungrier.
“He’s… he’s getting back up,” Sanji gasped between kisses, breathless, nodding toward the enemy stirring in the dirt.
The Witch didn’t even glance over. With a flick of her wrist, she tossed a bad-luck hex, cursing the bastard to fumble every swing, each attack missing them by a mile. It was pathetic, almost funny, watching the guy trip over his own feet. Sanji tensed, his chivalrous instincts screaming to protect her, but when he saw the enemy flailing uselessly, he gave in, sinking back into her spell.
Her hand slid down his lean torso, fingers tracing every muscle until they hit his belt. Sanji’s hand shot to hers, pausing her. “Do you want to?” she purred, voice like molten honey.
“He’s watching…” Sanji stammered, glancing at the enemy, whose eyes were practically popping out of his skull.
She turned, licking the blood from her lips with a wicked grin. “Don’t you wanna make him jealous? He’s just a pathetic loser, beaten to a pulp, and you’ve got the girl. Bet he’s a pervert too. Wanna break him for good?”
“Oh, you’re diabolical,” Sanji groaned, but the glint in his eyes screamed he was all in.
“I know,” she purred, smirking. “And you’re hard as hell.”
“How could I not be?” he rasped, voice cracking. “A goddess like you, using me like your personal plaything.”
Her fingers unbuckled his belt, slipping south to stroke him, and Sanji’s head fell back against the tree, moans spilling out as pleasure coiled tight in his gut. “What are you two… doing?” the enemy sputtered, jaw on the floor, but they ignored him like he was nothing.
“I love those pretty little sounds, Sanji,” she teased, her voice low and filthy. “Don’t stop.”
“I… I’ll make it up to you, I swear,” he panted, completely undone.
When they finished, the enemy was still there, gawking like a fish out of water, shell-shocked by the most unhinged display he’d ever seen. He’d tried to attack, but the hex made him a stumbling idiot, and staying to watch was his biggest mistake. Sanji, fixing his tie and smoothing his rumpled shirt, locked eyes with the guy, his hazy post-orgasm gaze replaced by a murderous glare.
“Why the hell are you still here, you filthy pervert?” Sanji snarled, lighting a cigarette.
“I… I… WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!” the enemy stammered, but before he could finish, Sanji’s leg whipped through the air. One vicious kick later, the guy’s head was buried in the dirt, out cold from the sheer force of Sanji’s rage.
The Witch laughed and tossed Sanji a wink. “My knight in shining armor,” she purred, and he was already swooning again, ready to follow her to the ends of the Grand Line.
That week, the moonlight was pure chaos, stirring up more than just Sanji’s lovesick heart— Nami got caught in its pull too.
Their usual bickering over the Witch’s “rent” (which, let’s be real, she started shortchanging on purpose just to see Nami’s eyes flash with that sexy, pissed-off glare) hit a boiling point. Bewitching could only do so much, and Nami, fed up, snapped. She shoved the Witch against the wall of the ship’s cabin, their back-and-forth teetering between a fight and something else entirely. It wasn’t anger fueling them, but a raw, pent-up tension begging to explode. And explode it did when Nami, with a wicked smirk, pushed the Witch onto the bed, straddling her and pinning her down like a cat toying with its prey.
They locked eyes, the air crackling, and then Nami dove in, kissing her with a brutal hunger that matched the Witch’s feral energy. It was a glorious mess—teeth clashing, hickeys blooming, a full-on battle for dominance. The Witch tried to take control at first, but Nami’s will was iron, her grip unyielding. She wasn’t budging, and the Witch, grinning, let her have it.
“You think I haven’t noticed,” Nami growled, her fingers buried deep inside the Witch, working her with ruthless precision, “that you’ve been shorting me on purpose just to rile me up?”
The Witch’s eyes widened, but a sly smile curled her lips. “Smart little minx, aren’t you?”
“Is this what you wanted, huh?” Nami teased, curling her fingers just right, making the Witch moan and arch off the bed, her body betraying every ounce of her bravado.
“Yes,” the Witch gasped, not a shred of shame in her voice.
They went at it like animals, the room filled with gasps and the creak of the bed. Thank the stars Robin, ever the tactful one, heard the commotion from outside and decided not to barge in—explaining that position would’ve been awkward as hell.
True to form, Robin kept her mouth shut, only bringing it up days later while she and the Witch stargazed on the deck.
“So, you and Nami?” Robin asked, her voice calm but with that knowing smirk.
“And Sanji, I guess,” the Witch said, flashing a grin. “Might as well lay all my cards on the table.”
“And what’s your plan?” Robin pressed, raising an eyebrow.
The Witch shrugged. “Nami’s still hung up on that princess, Vivi, I think. I’m just her outlet for all that pent-up frustration.”
Robin hummed thoughtfully. “She’s been quieter since Vivi left, that’s true. But what about Sanji?”
“No clue,” the Witch admitted. “Only time’ll tell.”
“Quite the philosophy,” Robin chuckled, her eyes glinting with amusement.
“What can I say? I’m in deep with two of your crewmates. Should’ve kicked the groupie habit ages ago, but when the moon’s full, it’s like I’m possessed. No escaping it.”
Nami, to her credit, didn’t make a fuss about their hookup, though they’d sneak off now and then to “blow off steam,” all smirks and tangled limbs. Sanji, though, was getting serious, his flirtations evolving from goofy to genuine, and the Witch started feeling a pang of guilt for still messing around with Nami. Eventually, she and Nami called it quits, agreeing they were better as friends. Sanji, meanwhile, kept up his relentless charm offensive—flowers, desserts, those puppy-dog eyes—and the Witch couldn’t deny it was starting to wear her down, bending her will just a little.
She was still wrestling with whether to give Sanji a real shot when the ship docked at an island, and there they were—her sisters, her coven, waiting for her.
Reuniting with her sisters on that island hit the Witch like a storm. She was spiritually united to her coven, they were her home, but the Straw Hats had carved out a piece of her heart too.
Torn between staying and leaving, she wavered as the crew lingered on the island, catching the coven’s electrifying performance.
Sanji tried to soak it in, but his heart was heavy, practically sinking to the ocean floor. The thought of this being the Witch’s last night with them gutted him. He’d let himself dream of something real with her, especially after she’d stopped dodging his serious talk, only for them to dock at this damn island the next day. Still, seeing her light up with her sisters fed his own joy, even if it stung. He forced himself to be realistic—touring musicians didn’t stick around, and he’d be damned if he let his moping ruin her happiness.
Post-show, the coven huddled, debating hard about joining the Straw Hats while still chasing their music career. The crew didn’t know the sisters, but for Luffy, that was a non-issue. “If they’re half as awesome as you, they’re in!” he’d probably say, grinning ear to ear.
That night, in a rowdy tavern where the party had fizzled—drunks passed out, fans long gone—the coven faced the Straw Hats’ table. The Witch cleared her throat. “We’ve been talking…”
“And!?” Luffy bounced in his seat, barely containing himself, ready to vault over the table.
“We’d like to formally request joining your crew,” she said, smirking.
Luffy launched himself like a rubber cannonball, crashing into the Witch and sending her ass-first to the floor. “THREE NEW MEMBERS!” he bellowed, bear-hugging her so tight she gasped for air. “THIS IS SO COOL!”
Sanji’s heart did a flip, his eyes misting over. In his lovesick haze, he swore she’d stayed for him. Truth was, he’d tipped the scales, his sweet gestures had wormed their way into her decision.
The sisters slotted into the crew like they’d always belonged. The Straw Hats ate it up—nightly concerts on the ship’s deck, weird-ass full-moon rituals that left everyone buzzing with strange energy. The coven’s magic was stronger together, their chants amplifying spells tenfold, turning hexes into forces of nature that left enemies quaking.
Sanji and the Witch finally made it official, and he was insufferable about it, parading her around like she was the One Piece itself. He was her biggest fanboy, brewing special teas to keep her vocal cords golden, treating her like a goddess, worshipping every step she took. He studied her like a recipe, perfecting how to make her melt.
The Witch took longer to fall, but when she did, she crashed harder than a ship in a maelstrom, her sisters cackling and teasing her for being so whipped. An embarrassingly large number of their songs? Definitely about Sanji.
When Franky and Brook joined, the Sunny got an upgrade—a proper stage and rehearsal room. Brook, the bony rockstar, started jamming with the coven, stealing the spotlight as their guest star with his soulful riffs and shameless showmanship. Their vibes meshed like a perfect chord.
Jinbe, when he came aboard, didn’t quite get the whole “goth band” thing, but he played the supportive dad, chilling in the rehearsal room, nodding along, maybe even tapping a fin to the beat. Secretly, the coven adored him most, but they’d never tell Brook—his dramatic ass would probably keel over in jealousy.
The Straw Hats had scored a famous band, and Luffy couldn’t shut up about it, bragging to every new face they met, waiting for their jaws to drop.
Every time, it worked like magic.