[sabohime]

𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐘 ♡ 19, sabo's princess, she/it.

♡ 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐃𝐂 & 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖! 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 ♡

➳ A SIDE. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭. 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠.

➳ B SIDE. 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬. 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐬. 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐨𝐫 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃!

♡ 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐒 ━

seducing one piece men (law, sabo, & sanji)

sabo breeds you

© sabohime . please do not copy, steal, translate, or repost.

[crusty-chronicles]

You Have to Treat a Car How You Treat A Woman

Synopsis: A pathetic virgin law oneshot where he's an absolute mess trying to flirt with women. The catch? You feed off it and encourage his catastrophic blunders.

Trafalgar Law was undeniably pathetic and awkward around women. He couldn't flirt for the life of him, choosing instead to bury himself in work. The result is having absolutely zero dating experience. He's so touch starved he doesn't know whether to run away or lean into physical affection.

But then you practically bulldoze your way into his life, unfazed by his distant and dismissive behavior. You follow him around throughout his alliance with Strawhat. And like the hopeless fool he was, he begins to yearn for your presence.

It's constant and warm. He seeks you out when he can't sleep. Being stuck with you in his quarters when you were sick didn't help his case. He starts to notice all your little quirks. The way your eye twitches when you're frustrated, or how you take a lap around the deck when you're excited. The subtle way you lean towards him when you're tired. The smile you get when you're planning something mischievous.

All of it has him falling a little deeper every time.

It's a complete shock to his system when you seem to return his ‘advances’. Or much to the terror of those around to witness it, his poor excuse of an attempt to flirt. There's no tact in his pursuit of your affection. Often times saying or doing things that would have given anyone pause to process what was happening.

“Would you mind if I ripped off all your clothes with my teeth?”

It doesn't come out seductive like he wanted. No teasing smirk or flirtatious lead up when he blurts it out. His expression is deadpan and his tone is flat. Save for the red spreading to his ears, his face is unreadable.

His crew shrieks in horror and second hand embarrassment from afar. Hands over their mouths in shock and shaking their heads in disbelief. So sure that Law managed to scare you off. Even a few members of the Strawhats stopped to gape at the situation. 

But you're a little freak. You lean towards him with a lovesick grin that spells out danger.

“God I'd be honored.”

More chaos erupts on deck, with Sanji screeching out “IT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME!!!” You don't react with repulsion or disgust. You didn't even hesitate. And Law can't believe how unaffected you were by his lackluster delivery.  

He doesn't know why he expected any different. You'd most likely heard worse from the cook and musician on the Sunny. But that's besides the point because leading up to the incident, you'd started treating him differently. Sweeter. It's what makes him a little less skeptical of your response. 

You like talking to him while you work on projects for the crew. Letting him spout medical jargon as you fiddle with new cannon blasters. Then there's the fact you'd make him replicas of whatever caught your eye from a Sora comic. Displaying it proudly and asking him if there were any inaccuracies. (They were always perfect.)

You've been showing blatant interest in him.

He just hadn't been picking up on it.

His favorite way of flirting is taking out your organs and showing them to you. Something that should highly be considered a red flag and absolutely insane to anyone unfamiliar with his devil fruit. But his brain is wired different. The human body is fascinating. 

Why wouldn't you wanna see how your most vital parts work? How, when he removes your heart, it beats a certain rhythm against the room it's contained in. Or watch the way your lungs inflate with each breath and deflate with each exhale. 

Most people expect their partners to give out sweet compliments. “Your eyes are pretty.” “I love your smile.” “Your laugh is like music to my ears.” 

Law's are always almost borderline deranged.

Bepo walks in once to see your liver laying flat on the table. A prideful smile on Law's face as you look on in fascination. 

“It's surprisingly healthy for a pirate considering how much you drink,” he praises.

And you take the compliment???

In fact, you go a step further and encourage it. Making him take out his own heart to compare it with yours. Asking him if it beats only for you. You poke and prod at your lungs. Joking about how Sanji's must be blackened and shriveled up. 

Law took your brain out once. Surely this isn't normal. Surely you're a little off put by his display of affection. This has got to be at least ten red flags combined. But you aren't the slightest but fazed. Looking utterly enamored by him as he holds the very pinnacle of your being with reverence. 

“Your brain is the most beautiful part about you.” He said softly.

He adores the interesting ways your mind works. How you're so open and trusting with him. How you take his inexperience with stride and let him learn with you. And of course, the way you match his crazy with your own.

“I wanna see yours,” you ask.

He's smitten.

There are times Law gets insecure. He doesn't know what he could possibly offer you besides his appearance. Everything he could give you, you already had on Strawhat's ship. He's seen the way you interact with the other members of your crew. The way you laugh unabashedly at their antics and take on a more relaxed state.

He knows his personality wasn't the best, often standoffish and cold. He's also busy most of the time you're around, so sure you feel neglected by him. It's hard to believe you actually wanted him.

But when he starts geeking out over Sanji in his Stealth Black costume, the words slip past your lips. 

“I kinda wanna have your babies.”

You were so in love with how excited he was to see something from his comics come to life. The awe in his expression watching Sanji fight. His fanboying endeared him greatly to your heart. A swell of affection coursing through your entire being. 

Law’s face immediately flushed and he has to do a double take.

“I- What!?!”

And your poor crewmates who'd unfortunately been forced to hear you, don't let you get away with it.

“That's SUPER freaky, bro.” Franky comments while Sanji is once again shrieking in the background.

It's not as raunchy as straight up saying you want him intimately. It's still up there, make no mistake, but there's a note of sweetness to it that has Law’s heart racing. You found his nerdiness endearing enough to want kids with him. You love every side of him. Even his most embarrassing.

In a rare moment of privacy, you found yourself in his cabin. Basking in each other's presence after such a taxing day. It's sudden, the way you grab his hand as he's listing off what he still has to do. You bring it close to your lips, kissing over the inked lettering on his knuckles.

It's a foreign feeling, having spent most of his childhood devoid of touch. Especially not as reverent and soft as yours. It's soothing. And when you look up at him with a sweet expression, he freezes.

“You should've got 'love' tattooed instead,” you coo out before reaching to press kisses against his other hand.

“Because that's what you deserve.”

He's freaking out internally, once again blurting out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Love’s four letters not five.”

He feels like the biggest dumbass in the world. You're trying to be romantic and he ruined it. Unintentionally pushing the affection he craves away. It feels like he's always messing up when it comes to you. But then you laugh. Not mockingly, but teasingly.

“How about adore?” You question, lips trailing up his arm. Skimming over the inked pattern. His body feels like it's on fire. Searing with warmth everywhere you place kisses. His heart beats in overdrive and his head is nothing but mush.

“That works,” he breathes out.

He can't help but dwell on your loving onslaught. Kissing him on his face he was expecting. Everywhere else? Not so much. Tracing his tattoos tenderly with your lips. Maybe you're the weird one. It's not like he hated the sensation, quite the opposite in fact. He's just not used to this. So he asks his crew the next day.

“Is it normal for your partner to kiss you in places besides your face?”

The usual suspects burst into laughter. Taking the opportunity to rag on their captain because what kind of question is that?

“Waiter! Waiter! My steak is too juicy and my lobster is too buttery!” Penguin teases.

“My partner loves me, should I be concerned?” Shachi adds on.

Law pulls his hat further down his face in embarrassment and walks off. 

It's not his fault love is so foreign. How was he supposed to navigate what he'd never experienced before? By now, he's accepted he's pathetic for you. Knowing he's committing blunder after blunder, only for you to encourage it with your own brand of hectic. 

You’re definitely the one for him.

----------------------------------------------------

An: I'm a fiend for this man and I saw that one weird Al interview which inspired this semi crack fic and spawned it into existence.

[sabohime]

i’ve been MIA for a while, but if anyone wants to leave some one piece thirsts i’m open do writing some blurbs :)

[sashi-ya]

Hi Sashi! Thank you for hosting this spicy event! I would like to see a a story where Sabo is actually rescued by his parents instead of Dragon, so he lives up as a noble, obviously behaving like a dick. NSFW, reader is a commoner, his plaything to satisfy his dark urges since he has the power to do so. Wouldn't mind some softness (since he is a good-hearted man deep down) but I want him dark. Thank you so much for your hard work!

Hi sweety!! OF COURSE! I made him extra dark, a little too much, so I really expect you to like him like this 🙊🙈... thank u for requesting!! 💖😈 ~

😈💜Sashi's Dark Corner💜😈

NSFW ~ Noble! Sabo x F! Painter! Reader ~ A Noble's Entertainment

tw: NSFW. Super explicit. Sabo is a noble, as he was saved by his parents and not by Dragon. Rough sex. Degrading language. Marking. Caning. Masturbation. Filming without consent (trust me he behaves well at the end). Jerk attitude. Unprotected sex. Hair pulling.

wc: 3.3K (ups!)

Like this event? masterlist ~

Flower Hills now cover what once was Gray Terminal, the soft caress of a summer breeze plays with Sabo’s golden locks as he cultivates his mind reading a book about the tragedy of Flevance. His room, the one that’s always been his since little slowly stopped feeling like a cage and after many years he felt comfortable in it. The bars of the window in front of him project a shadow like marks on his skin as he moves.

Though, there was a mark that he couldn't hide…

“Sabo-nichan!” Stelly shouts from the door, pulling Sabo from his immersive lecture.

“What?” he looks to the door, pissed because his stupid step brother never knocks. “How many times do I have to tell-?” he asks, annoyed but stops right away. She looked so fine, she looked so perfect… and Sabo, Sabo had absolutely no shame in showing her what he thought…

“Ni-chan, she is (Name). That’s the artist mum told you was coming to paint your future royal portrait. If you are going to be the next… king… you need to have a painted portrait” he states, clearly jealous of the “becoming a king” part. But Sabo doesn’t mind. He loves young, beautiful women. Commoners, rather than nobles, he has a thing for them, he enjoys playing with those from lower classes…

The blond noble stands up covering his burn mark with golden wavy locks. He fixes his cravat and picks up his cane. A cane that looks lighter than any normal cane, but that nobody dares to ask why he uses it. “Good afternoon, lady… We could discuss the painting right here” he says to you, smirking and fixing dark grey eyes on yours.

Your lips separate several times before any word could come out from your mouth. You know how Sabo looked but his aura, his presence feels intimidating and makes you in a way… weak. A handsome man, influential, powerful. A man that was once a rebellious kid and dared to even cross the sea by his own… that man, that soon turned into a jerk, just like any noble.

Stelly leaves the room, after Sabo had dedicated to him a deathly stare. That bitch is annoying, his haircut, the way he moves, how he speaks, triggers the need of sticking your fist on his face, but still you stay silent and wait for him to leave.

“So, my mother says you are the best artist in the whole Goa Kingdom, aren’t you?” Sabo asks, inviting you to take a seat on one of the chairs of his dormitory. You smile and look straight towards the case with your paints and brushes you have on your hands. Your knuckles turn white from the way you unconsciously squeeze the handle, and you don’t know why… are you afraid? are you… into him?

You only nod, a little blushed because of his praise. “What is it, did the cat get your tongue?” he asks, laughing and coming closer to you. Gloved index finger lifts your chin up, the dark smirk on his face shows you he is not willing to behave like a true gentleman…after all, that’s exactly what nobles do. They act like jerks, because they think everything, even the lower class people, are theirs.

“S-sir, I… how would you like me to paint you? A classic portrait or-” you ask but got cut short because Sabo had decided the moment you step in his room the exact way you will be picturing him… “Naked. I want you to paint me naked”.

“N-naked?” you ask, stuttering. You have painted so many men naked, but… wasn’t this supposed to be a royal like portrait? “Yes, I think we are going to be more comfortable in the next room. Join me, please” Sabo commands, holding his cane but not using it for walking. You stand up and follow him, like a moth to the light, to the next room that’s connected to his own dormitory.

The huge East Rosewood door opens and reveals a room that looks kind of off regarding the rest of the decorations in his house -that more than a house, it looks like a palace to you-. Walls with bricks, just a leather couch in the middle, subtle lighting. There are no windows, but there is a little table with a den den mushi on it. And you wonder what that's for? is that a communication den den mushi? A camera one?

“Please, wait here. I will ask for my maids to bring you something to drink” he says -commands- and gets out of the room. The door closes behind him, giving you a subtle unpleasant feeling of being encaged…

You prefer to ease the doubt, and instead direct your gaze to a tall library full of dusty books from all around the globe. As your eyes scan the titles, you find a cookbook from the north blue, and a revolutionary manifest from the RA. “How weird” you think, coming from a noble, that type of books are probably something disgusting to read…

After what felt like eternal hours, the doors opens. A girl, dressed like servitude, crawls inside the weird room bringing a silver tray with a pot and two fine porcelain cups. She dedicates you a painful glare as she pours the steamy beverages. “Why is she looking at me like that?” you ask yourself, because it looked like she was pitting you.

“Is everything ok, miss?” you ask, because at this point you are beginning to be scared. “Y-yes, please be care-” she says, fixing worried eyes on yours. But her speech gets cut short by the loud bump of Sabo’s cane against the door. “What’s going on, servant? Did I give you the order to speak with other workers?” he asks, intimidating both of you with a sadist smile. The poor maid jolts. Her eyes fix on the ground, almost like making holes into it. “Excuse me, Sabo-sama” she says, and practically runs away briefly looking at Sabo’s cane like a torture instrument.

“Hah! These lower class people never seem to understand their place, don’t they?” he laughs, closing the door and coming closer to you. Your blood boils, because you are yourself a lower class person compared to him and you were taught that nobody is less than anybody just by their economical level… but he is a noble, he was raised like that…

Shamelessly, before your astonished look, he walks directly to the couch and flops into it. He spreads his legs as he sits and loosens the white frilled cravat that holds his blue shirt closed. He also takes off the fancy hat and ruffles his own hair in a sexy, and pretentious way. His cane rests over his lap as he then lays his back and open arms on the back rest. “You told me when you are ready to start and I’ll take the rest off” he tells you, not even asking if you were alright with painting a young man naked.

You nod and begin to prepare your tools. First, you put up the easel and the canvas, then the oils and ultimately the brushes. You think about what colours could make the perfect match for his milky skin and pick the burnt sienna to paint the base of the burning mark around his eye… “Will he want me to paint it?”.

“Sir, I’m ready. How do you prefer the canvas to be? Horizontal or vertical?” you ask, finding the best hiding spot for you behind it. “Well, I was hoping for you to make a full portrait of my nudity, so horizontal” he tells you, without hesitation. You swallow and fight against the burning arson that grows from your belly to your cheeks. “Yes, sir. Please, show me the pose you would like me to paint you”.

You hear the creaking of the leathery couch as he moves, and of course you are sure he is getting naked and in pose, and you don’t dare to look at immediately. “What are you waiting for, artist?” he asks, playfully. You stick your face off the canvas and take a quick look at his perverse way to display his bareness. It reminds you of the infamous painting, “The Fallen Angel” by Alexandre Cabanel. The perfect side of his abdominal wall of muscles goes up and down accompanying the way he breathes. Strong arms that are not big, but lean indeed. Long legs, covering his sexuality. His golden locks, wavy and shiny covering conveniently the scar on his eye. Scar that extends to his collarbones and into his chest. Everything was uncovered, except his hands. He still wears his brown leather gloves.

“So, begin please” he commands, smirking because he noticed how your breathing got subtly accelerated before such a perfect show of anatomy traits. You gasp and quickly begin to sketch the basic lines that will build the painting. Your eyes scan every little detail, amazed by the harmony in his own features. Focusing on his face first, you realize he doesn’t look like a bad guy, yet his eyes hold something pretty dark inside. And you wonder what it is… The doubt didn’t take you any longer to be resolved, though.

A certain sound catches your attention all of a sudden, you have been avoiding eye contact for a long time now, only taking quick glances for details. And nothing prepared you -or maybe your imagination did- for what you see next. He is nonchalantly jerking off, right in front of you, as if you didn’t exist at all.

Quickly, you hide behind the canvas despite him noticing you looking at him. “Why are you hiding, painter? I bet this is more interesting to paint, don’t you think?” he laughs, to a mortified you, a blushed you. “S-sir… I… I didn’t…” you are out of words, what a disgusting jerk he is… and yet, you want to keep looking.

“Come on! You do it, too! I want you to paint me like this. Promise I’ll pay you more” he tells you, as if he was asking for you to add a flower on his hair. “Alright Sir, please stand still so I can picture it for you” you mumble, trying to act professional but crossing your legs… your core was begging for pressure, for release.

You take a big gasp of air and look at him posing, holding his dick in between his gloved hand. Hard, big, red and dripping. Details are your specialty, and those never escape your eyes… but an erotic painting? This is something new for you.

The charcoal on your fingers stain them in black, as your hands get sweaty but your eyes are unable to stop looking at his crotch while sketching. “Your expression is adorable, you know?” he mumbles, stroking his dick a little harder but staying as still as possible. “I’m just focused on the details” you whisper, feeling your cheeks burning.

“Oh… I see. Which details do you like the most? hm? the way it drips? or how hard it is for you, painter?” he asks, straightforwardly.

Bastard…

“Overall is a pretty reference for me to work with, I might have to come closer eventually” you tell him, playing with the double entendre of your words, falsely suggesting he is not that big as he thinks.

The noble's eyes change all of a sudden. How dare a lower class bitch to suggest his sex is not big enough? He stands up, all of a sudden. “What did you just say?” he asks, pissed. You frown, well aware he was annoyed, but you decide to play dumb. “I’m sorry Sir, what did I say?”.

“You think my dick is not big enough, bitch?” he tells you, coming closer and pulling your head back from your hair. “I… I didn’t say that… Indeed I think it is big enough, Sir” you stutter, half scared, half aroused by his violent proximity.

“I should show you then how big it is by sticking it inside you, don’t you think? Do you want me to show it to you?” he asks, surprising you that at least he is asking for some type of consent. “Uh… well… I don’t know, a noble fucking a commoner?”

You, and your big mouth… “You are right, you are way above your place bitch” he says, and makes you kneel on the ground. “There, now you are where you are supposed to be. Under me”.

You look up at him, eyes fixed on his, but feeling the warmth the skin of his sex emanates on your face. “Stand still, now you are posing for me, bitch” he commands and pulling your head back from your hair he starts jerking off. Pumping and groaning, hitting your cheeks with the wet and throbbing tip of his dick, he masturbates in front of you. You could have been scandalized, but frankly… you are enjoying his subtle moaning as he strokes his shaft on and on.

“Open your mouth, now” he commands in between moaning, and as his back arches he fills your mouth with his warm release. “See? What a beautiful bitch you are!” he exclaims, sticking his finger in your mouth, making the contents spill. Sticky, milky fluid drips and slides through the commissures of your lips into the ground, as his load was so abundant you couldn't even hold it all inside.

Sabo lets go of your hair and pushes you to the side. He walks away, a sexy way of doing so. Your eyes scan his wide back and go down the small of it and even praise the way his bubble butt shows. He flops once again into the couch, spreading legs of course, the typical jerk pose and sucking his own cum from his finger. “Come here bitch, undress right in front of me”.

You do as he tells, standing up, swallowing the traces of his release and standing in front of him. He is holding his cane, and now you understand completely why he has it. Your dress falls to the ground, and you only keep your lingerie. But he is not satisfied with it and he wants you absolutely naked.

“All. Of. Your. Clothes. Off. Whore” he says, hitting you softly with the tip of his cane on the side of your left thigh. “Yes, sir” you mumble, and just like that your underwear falls to the ground. Sabo takes his time to enjoy your curves, up and down scanning your body. “Amazing body, you little bitch… sit down and spread your legs. I want you to touch yourself for me”.

You widen your eyes, is this man not touching you? he only wants to… watch? You slowly sit on the ground in front of him and spread your legs. Your hand slides from your lower belly to your core, showing him how wet you have become. “Look at you, does being covered in my cum make you that aroused?”. He is right to ask, because that’s indeed what made you become that horny.

“Uhum, Sir” you whisper, sticking the first finger inside you. You move it in and out, playing with your clit at the same time as you watch him delightfully enjoy your self-pleasuring show. Moaning, you keep going, aware of his sex getting hard soon after. “What are you looking at, little whore? You want my dick, don’t you?” he asks, smirking.

“Y-yes. Yes” you nod, biting your lip. To your surprise, he grabs his cane and pushes your shoulder with the tip of it. You fall back over the carpet of that weird looking room. Sabo stands up and walks around you. He walks slowly, you can hear his steps on the ground and the sound of the cane hitting his palm. Is he planning on using that instrument on you?

Yes. He is.

The cold instrument lands -softly- on your breasts. “Turn around on all fours” he commands and you, of course, quickly comply. “Good girl” he smiles and blesses hitting your back with the cane. It feels like a sting that sends a warm sensation from the place to your whole body ending on your clit.

“Mh…” you moan.

He hits you once again, laughing, because of your reaction. “Hahaha! You are all the same, you enjoy being punished by us, don’t you?”. One, two, three marks on your back and ass cheeks. He proceeds with the back of your thighs, it feels sharp, burning, stinging. You can only imagine the maroonish colours on your skin.

“Do you know what’s happening now?” he asks, while grazing up and down the cane on your dripping core. “Are you fucking me, sir?” you dare to ask, anxious and eager to feel his dick stretching your walls. “Should I, bitch? But don’t you dare touch me with those filthy hands” he moans, pulling you up from your hair.

Barely managing to stand up, he grabs you from behind. His gloved hands stroke your neck, choking you hard, interrupting any air flow that could go inside your lungs. “Where do you want my dick, tell me” he whispers in your ear, visibly aroused, breathing with difficulty. His sex plays at both of your entrances, as a tic tac toe game, where is it going to be stick in?

“Wh…wherever… you- ugh..want sir” you struggle to answer, as his hands like dragon’s claws crush your neck. “Heh…” he smirks, making you walk until you reach the couch. He pushes you against it, making you fall over the armrest. Perfectly showing your holes to him, you wait for him to fill you up.

He spreads your cheeks and legs and while he does so, burying his nails on your ass, he spits. The wet trail of saliva travels from your rear entrance and mixes with your arousal elixirs. And with him enjoying your degrading position, he impales you, brutally. “Sir…” you moan, feeling your walls stretching, as he mercilessly goes in and out.

“Shut up bitch, let me fill you up with my cum” he chimes, getting a better grip from pulling your hair. The sound of his crotch hitting against your ass mixes with him and your moan, creating a sinful melody of hell.

You are grateful for the armrest holding you, because at this point your legs aren’t able to do so. Infinite thrusts, rough, making you unstoppably squirt around the base of his dick. And right when you are about to come, he passes his hand under your chin, lifting your face up. “Smile for the camera, bitch” he moans, showing you the Den Den Mushi in front of you filming your whimpering tears.

Unstoppable orgasm that makes you scream, hits you. You dedicate a teary smirk to the eyes of that poor snail filming it all, proud of being the one who made the future king of your kingdom come too. He lets your womb filled up, about to explode, without taking in consideration that this could lead a simple commoner to have a little version of himself.

He sticks himself out of you, making his cum to drip through your inner thighs. Sabo sighs, and helps you stand up.

“Don’t worry, I will erase the video… And if there is something that hurts, please tell me” he says, cleaning your face from the tears. You panting, amazed by how he became a different man from minutes before, smile. “Don’t, can I keep it?”. The blonde frowns, and flops into the couch. “You want to keep it?”. “I do, I really want to rewatch it sometime” you tell him, sincerely. “And don’t worry, I won’t blackmail you. It was just too good to forget”.

Sabo smirks at you, with the clear intention of communicating something else. “You know? I wanted to be a pirate back when I was a kid… this is the mark that reminds me that” he says, confusing you. “I might want to enjoy a little more of your world, turns out that being a noble is in fact a little boring for me…”

Both smile at each other, understanding too well what he meant.

“Come here, sit with me… I’m definitely not finished”

[organatwins]

Sibling asked how ppl in star wars dance to jizz music and I had to give her an example

[dickgirlsdaily]

[organatwins]

its literally not a typo,,,, thats what the genre of the music in the video is called in star wars canon

[dickgirlsdaily]

[roguescum]

having wicked thoughts

[miraclerust]

dad bod Cora save me

[togenabi]

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

[goodonepiecescreenshots]

[sabohime]

ugh i’m in a ‘wants to be bred’ typa mood (when am i not) but like. jsksjsk….law or sabo or zoro just. FOLDING you over and pounding into you like no tomorrow because they can’t help the fact you look so pretty! and they want some pretty little babies! it’s not their fault you’d give him everything he wanted (even if all he wants is to keep you nice and knocked up with his kids!)

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬!

sabo x fem!reader

♡ . what happens when you take my favorite holiday and my favorite kink and put them together? this!

♡ . tw. breeding kink, pregnancy kink, tummy bulge, being tied up, gloved vaginal fingering, plenty of pet names ‘princess’, ‘doll’, ‘mama’ etc, slight orgasm denial, uh wow this really got away from me!

♡ . zoro. luffy. sanji.

Sabo had returned home in one of his moods.

After months away doing Revolutionary work, he hadn’t seen you, his darling girlfriend, in far too long. Meaning, the only release he’d had for almost a year was his fist. Which did not compare to your pussy. At all.

Now you were tied to the headboard, his leather belt rubbing your wrists red. Your blond god of a boyfriend had one gloved hand on your knee, keeping your legs spread perfectly wide for him.

His other hand, however, was busy pumping two thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

“You like that, doll? Bein’ stretched out like this?” His fingers curved, hitting that special spot inside of you. You were so close to that high. Tears rolled down your cheeks, his fingers working you up only to slow just as you nearly reach climax.

“Ah ah,” he tuts, removing his fingers and licking the drippings off of his glove. “Good girls cum on cocks, sweetheart.”

He positions himself above you, leaning down to kiss away your tears. He chases the droplets with his tongue, kissing down your neck and collarbones. Sabo licks at the numerous marks left on your pretty skin. He bites down hard, right above your nipple. You cry in pleasure, longing to grab his hair and pull. But Sabo doesn’t untie your hands.

He leans closer, tongue swirling around the hardened bud of your nipple. With his hand, still gloved, he pinches your other nipple and palms your breast.

“Look at these, darling,” Sabo says, his hot breath fanning against your nipple, which is wet with his spit. He cups your tits in his hands. “Imagine how they’d swell with milk when I knock you up.”

Your breath hitches. You feel slick gush from your pussy just from his words. He chuckles.

“You like that, Y/n? The idea of getting knocked up?”

Sabo’s face is barely a centimeter from yours. His heavy cock rests on your belly as he leans in. The blond captures you in a needy kiss, and the feeling is so euphoric you don’t notice that Sabo had undone the belt keeping your hands tied.

“Sabo!” you yell, throwing your arms around his neck to connect his lips with yours again. You grind your hips upward.

“So needy for me, princess. Want my cock that bad?”

“Bo, stop teasing!” you whine. Sabo grins.

“Don’t whine, mama. I think I know how to satiate you.”

In a swift motion, Sabo picks you up and flips you around so you’re on your hands and knees. His cock prods at your entrance, thick head parting your sweet lips. The rough leather of his gloves graze your nipples as he squeezes them harshly. One of his hands moves down to your stomach.

“Isn’t this nice? Soon there’ll be a hot, potent load right here. Right in my Y/n-chan’s womb.” He pushes the tip in. You moan at the intrusion.

“Do you think it’ll take right away?” he pushes another inch inside you. “Or will I have to keep breeding you and breeding you?” another inch.

“Your cunt is so greedy, princess,” he hisses. “Suckin’ me in so well. Damn, I think it’ll take right away.” He bullies the rest of his cock into you, his fat tip brushing against your cervix. But he doesn’t move. He presses kisses to your shoulder and rubs the bump in your tummy from his cock. Suddenly he removes himself until just his tip remains inside you.

“So, what do you think, Y/n?” he grunts in your ear. “That I’ll stuff you with twins?” he bottoms out inside you and you scream. You can practically feel his cock inside your womb. “Triplets, even?”

The visual almost brings you to orgasm: waiting patiently for your Revolutionary husband to return— in his absence you’d grown completely gravid with his kids, stomach round and swollen all because of a single night. How your tits weep with milk, how your hips and ass had grown even wider. How your pussy practically controls your day to day, needing to stop and beg your husband to fuck you.

With that fantasy, you close your eyes tight and scream Sabo’s name, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. He comes with you, shooting a load deep into your womb. Once you both catch your breaths, Sabo laughs.

“Sorry, princess. I got a little carried away.” He nuzzles your cheek, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“S’okay,” you mumble, still blissed out. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/n,” he responds, kissing your head.

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦

multi x fem!reader

♡ . eek my first post!! some simple headcannons for you guys! enjoy :) nothing explicit (for now 😈) but! there are references to dicksucking!

♡ . includes: law, sabo, sanji

LAW

Law is constantly on edge. It hurts seeing your captain so stressed all the time.

So, being the dutiful crewmate you are, you decide to…provide him with a little ‘relaxant’. It’s not your fault he’ll have to work for it…

“Y/n-ya, what are you-“ “It’s hot, Captain!”

Law blushes at that. You can barely see it through the Tang’s dim lighting and his tanned skin, but from the way his eyes widen and his breath hitches, you can tell your plan is working.

Why is he harping about your wardrobe? Well, your typical Heart Pirates boiler suit had been traded in for a tight tank and skimpy shorts. How old were these? With the way your thighs were pinched by the elastic of your shorts, and the way your breasts practically fell out of your top, Law was certain you had dug deep in your closet to fish these clothes out.

“Y/n-ya. Seriously,” his tattooed hand rests on your shoulder now, dangerously close to the thin strap of your tank top. “We have uniforms for a reason.”

“Are you really gonna make me change, Captain?” you pout. You watch his brow furrow, and you know you’ve got him now.

“I think I’ll have fun ripping this off of you, Y/n-ya,” he grunts, hot breath now in your ear. His hands wander down to your shorts, palming your ass and taking notice of your lack of panties. “Even more dress code violations? I might just have to punish you tonight, Y/n-ya.”

You gulp. Law says Room and suddenly you’re in his bedroom.

“Regretting your decision, Y/n-ya?”

SABO

Once again, Dragon’s given him far too much paperwork.

As his secretary, it’s your job to provide him with some repose from his workload.

So…What better to let him take another load out on you? Maybe you should snag a pillow from your desk chair next time…

“Chief, I brought you the tea you asked for. A splash of milk and extra sugar,” you say, repeating his order sweetly and perfectly from years of practice. When you cross the threshold to his office, you find your chief of staff with his vest off, cravat undone and on the table, and his shirt partly unbuttoned.

The sight of his scarred, muscular chest makes you gulp. It’s okay Y/n, you can do this, you assure yourself.

“Thank you, Y/n-chan. You’re so kind, helping me out,” Sabo says, his cheeks rosy and smile innocent. You think him the perfect caricature of a schoolboy.

“It’s nothing, chief. I am your secretary after all. It’s my job,” you grin, placing the tea on his desk in front of him. You make sure to lean over and give him an eyeful of cleavage, just in case he might be interested.

“Is it your job to tease me as well?”

You freeze. You didn’t actually think he’d take the bait. Shit.

“Don’t be shy now, Y/n-chan. I’ve already gotten a nice view of your tits. And your skirt could be pulled down a tad, I suppose. You’re hardly professional these days,” you listen, face hot, sweat beginning to run down your back. At least he wasn’t scolding you— that was evident in the fact he said ‘tits’, and the generally teasing lilt in his usually silky smooth voice. It’s gotten deeper because he’s so tired, and it’s starting to make you clench your thighs.

“I-uh, I’m sorry, chief. I- I figured…” you scramble, trying to think of some excuse to remedy this situation. “I figured you might want a, uh, distraction. Right! A distraction from work!”

“Oh really?” the blond grins, pushing his chair away from his desk and moving his hands to unbutton his trousers. “Dragon-san has been giving me so much paperwork. It’s the least you could do, right Y/n-chan?”

You watch in awe as he takes himself out of his boxers.

“Now, Y/n-chan…How much of a distraction can you be?”

SANJI

Sanji gets hard just from smelling women’s perfume. So seducing him is easier than…really anything.

So, one night you can’t sleep. And the chef in the kitchen preparing recipes seems like a wonderful target for your affections.

“Sanji-kun, what’re you making?”

Sanji jumps from his place stirring on the counter, surprised at the sound of your beautiful voice.

“Oh my! Has an angel descended down on me to try my humble cooking?” the man swirls around you with hearts in his eyes, eventually bending down on one knee to kiss your knuckles. “It’s nothing special, my dear Y/n-swan. Simply practicing recipes for fruit tarts.”

You cup his cheek. A trickle of blood comes down his nose, but he pulls away from your touch to quickly wipe it away.

“Sounds yummy, Sanji. Could I try one?”

“Of course, mellorine!” Sanji keens. You smile at how cute he is. The blond grabs a fruit tart, which happens to be your favorite fruit, and brings it over to you.

He sits it on a plate in front of you, waiting like a lapdog as he anticipates praise for his cooking. However you don’t move to pick up the tart.

“Y/n…swan?”

“Feed it to me, Sanji-kun?” you say seductively, leaning over the kitchen island so your breasts pop over your crossed arms. Immediately Sanji is staring, but you don’t scold him this time. This was your goal.

“Of- of course, anything for my Y/n-swan,” Sanji stutters. He brings the small tart to your lips, and as you reach the last bite, you grab his wrist.

You decide to be extra bold, and lick a stripe up his finger. Your mouth detaches with a pop, and Sanji looks like he might pass out.

“That was good, Sanji-kun. Do you have any other special treats for me?”

[sabohime]

♡ 𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐦𝐚𝐬!

sabo x fem!reader

♡ . what happens when you take my favorite holiday and my favorite kink and put them together? this!

♡ . tw. breeding kink, pregnancy kink, tummy bulge, being tied up, gloved vaginal fingering, plenty of pet names ‘princess’, ‘doll’, ‘mama’ etc, slight orgasm denial, uh wow this really got away from me!

♡ . zoro. luffy. sanji.

Sabo had returned home in one of his moods.

After months away doing Revolutionary work, he hadn’t seen you, his darling girlfriend, in far too long. Meaning, the only release he’d had for almost a year was his fist. Which did not compare to your pussy. At all.

Now you were tied to the headboard, his leather belt rubbing your wrists red. Your blond god of a boyfriend had one gloved hand on your knee, keeping your legs spread perfectly wide for him.

His other hand, however, was busy pumping two thick fingers into your dripping cunt.

“You like that, doll? Bein’ stretched out like this?” His fingers curved, hitting that special spot inside of you. You were so close to that high. Tears rolled down your cheeks, his fingers working you up only to slow just as you nearly reach climax.

“Ah ah,” he tuts, removing his fingers and licking the drippings off of his glove. “Good girls cum on cocks, sweetheart.”

He positions himself above you, leaning down to kiss away your tears. He chases the droplets with his tongue, kissing down your neck and collarbones. Sabo licks at the numerous marks left on your pretty skin. He bites down hard, right above your nipple. You cry in pleasure, longing to grab his hair and pull. But Sabo doesn’t untie your hands.

He leans closer, tongue swirling around the hardened bud of your nipple. With his hand, still gloved, he pinches your other nipple and palms your breast.

“Look at these, darling,” Sabo says, his hot breath fanning against your nipple, which is wet with his spit. He cups your tits in his hands. “Imagine how they’d swell with milk when I knock you up.”

Your breath hitches. You feel slick gush from your pussy just from his words. He chuckles.

“You like that, Y/n? The idea of getting knocked up?”

Sabo’s face is barely a centimeter from yours. His heavy cock rests on your belly as he leans in. The blond captures you in a needy kiss, and the feeling is so euphoric you don’t notice that Sabo had undone the belt keeping your hands tied.

“Sabo!” you yell, throwing your arms around his neck to connect his lips with yours again. You grind your hips upward.

“So needy for me, princess. Want my cock that bad?”

“Bo, stop teasing!” you whine. Sabo grins.

“Don’t whine, mama. I think I know how to satiate you.”

In a swift motion, Sabo picks you up and flips you around so you’re on your hands and knees. His cock prods at your entrance, thick head parting your sweet lips. The rough leather of his gloves graze your nipples as he squeezes them harshly. One of his hands moves down to your stomach.

“Isn’t this nice? Soon there’ll be a hot, potent load right here. Right in my Y/n-chan’s womb.” He pushes the tip in. You moan at the intrusion.

“Do you think it’ll take right away?” he pushes another inch inside you. “Or will I have to keep breeding you and breeding you?” another inch.

“Your cunt is so greedy, princess,” he hisses. “Suckin’ me in so well. Damn, I think it’ll take right away.” He bullies the rest of his cock into you, his fat tip brushing against your cervix. But he doesn’t move. He presses kisses to your shoulder and rubs the bump in your tummy from his cock. Suddenly he removes himself until just his tip remains inside you.

“So, what do you think, Y/n?” he grunts in your ear. “That I’ll stuff you with twins?” he bottoms out inside you and you scream. You can practically feel his cock inside your womb. “Triplets, even?”

The visual almost brings you to orgasm: waiting patiently for your Revolutionary husband to return— in his absence you’d grown completely gravid with his kids, stomach round and swollen all because of a single night. How your tits weep with milk, how your hips and ass had grown even wider. How your pussy practically controls your day to day, needing to stop and beg your husband to fuck you.

With that fantasy, you close your eyes tight and scream Sabo’s name, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. He comes with you, shooting a load deep into your womb. Once you both catch your breaths, Sabo laughs.

“Sorry, princess. I got a little carried away.” He nuzzles your cheek, pressing a kiss to your jaw.

“S’okay,” you mumble, still blissed out. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Y/n,” he responds, kissing your head.

[sabohime]

should i post breeding/pregnancy kink sabo before i have the other characters parts done or should i wait

[sabohime]

Sabo and law threesome ?🫶🏽

♡ hehe anon you’re speaking my language!

you’re on your side in bed, sandwiched between your lovers. law is behind you, his heavy cockhead prodding your asshole as he rasps dirty things in your ear about how he’ll tear you open. sabo is in front of you, his cock gliding between your folds, wet with your slick. he doesn’t slip inside you, content with teasing for now. law’s tattooed fingers creep in between your thighs, and you let him ease open your legs as he preps your awaiting hole. when he finally pushes in, sabo swallows your moans in a kiss, and eagerly drinks up your screams of pleasure as he finally thrusts up into your cunt. when law cums, he decorates your ruined asshole with his thick spend— murmuring about how it would look so much better dripping from your pussy instead. alas, it’s sabo’s turn, and when his gloved hands grip your hips and he finally releases inside of you, you feel your stomach burn with the familiar warmth of his cum. sabo suckles your nipples as you ride through your own orgasm, and law reaches around to stimulate your clit. once you come down from your high, your lovers trail kisses down your body, and before you know it they’ve switched sides. “ready for round two, y/n-ya?” “yeah, princess. let us be a little greedy tonight.”

[willowbelle]

i would kill for you to write some Law smut where he has a breeding kink please ^~^

as someone who literally has a breeding kink, say no more, anon. i’m on it! \(>ᴗ•)/♡︎

Hidden Desires

❤︎ trafalgar law x fem reader ❤︎

𖤐₊˚.༄ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) 𖤐₊˚.༄

cw: established relationship, oral (f receiving), teasing, unprotected sex (don’t), breeding kink (duh), missionary, mating press, rough sex, slight stomach bulge, creampie (duh), petnames, fluff at end

summary: established relationship, reader is a member of heart pirates, Law has a secret kink that reader wants to figure out, Law lets his desires out, super nsfw with some fluff at end!

word count: ~2600

note: only loosely proofread so bear with me, my loves.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

Hidden Desires

Your boyfriend was a cynical man.

He liked things to be thorough and correct, nothing to be left to interpretation. He was a doctor, after all, a very practical one at that. His analytical precision was nothing to gawk at. For example, when it came to your sex life, he always insisted on rolling a condom over his impressive length before he railed you into the mattress.

But you were about to discover that there was something about Trafalgar Law that made him want to stray away from this methodical way of life.

He buried this desire deep inside himself, too frightened for what might happen if it were to see the light of day, if it were to make its way to your unsuspecting ears.

You knew there had to be something. Something about himself that he was hiding from you. Sometimes, when he fucked you, you saw some glimmers of this yearning slip from within him. On one occasion in particular, when he had you pressed against one of the icy walls of the Polar Tang, your legs wrapped around his waist shakily as he pounded into you, he let his aching speak for him,

“I want to fill you to the brim, y/n…”

The confession was quiet, so much so that you asked him to repeat himself, surely you had heard him incorrectly. Hips still snapping away against yours, he shook his head and groaned into your neck, refusing to elaborate.

This interaction had sprouted a seed in your mind, a tiny one, but one that you determined to nourish and sprout; what longing resided inside your boyfriend, your captain, that he insisted on keeping hidden from you?

Law was seated at his desk in his office, scribbling away in his notebook, his other hand holding open an anatomy textbook, dark gray eyes scanning back and forth between the two.

You laid on his bed, your body still, but your mind racing.

Silence had hung heavy in the room for over an hour now. The two of you had an agreement, if you wanted to keep him company while he worked, you needed to stay quiet. You knew Law was busy today, like every day, and you knew better than to disturb him.

You anxiously picked at your fingernails, trying desperately to catch up with your turbulent mind.

“What’s got your brain so preoccupied, y/n?” your boyfriend’s deep voice began, much to your surprise. He was speaking to you, of course, but his eyes remained glued to his notes. Your boyfriend was an observant man, you weren’t surprised that he could still pick up on your mannerisms, even with his back to you.

“Thinking…” you admitted, knowing it wasn’t much of a confession.

“Clearly,” he toyed. You couldn’t see his face, but your brain filled in the missing piece. You knew he was smirking, as he always did when he bantered with you.

“What are you hiding from me, Law?” you began, moving off of the bed and bringing yourself to your feet, “I want to know what’s in there,” you spoke, motioning to his head with the point of your finger.

Your boyfriend finally brought his face up from his textbook to meet your curious eyes.

“What are you talking about, doll?” he chuckled, “You know me better than anyone.”

“I know I know you, Law,” you grinned at him, making your way towards him, placing your hand on his toned chest beneath his shirt. “But I want to know what you want to do to me. What you really want to do to me.”

To the outside perspective, Law’s face was cold and calculating, but to you, his partner, you could make out the slight blush that now dusted his cheeks, and the glimmer of arousal in his eyes.

“You really want to know, y/n?” he began, his voice now a seductive whisper.

Staring up at him, you gulped dryly. Even with no idea what to expect, you placed all of your trust in Law’s tattooed hands, and nodded your head.

With your assurance, Law began to speak again, bringing his fingers to the buttons of his shirt.

“Ive always wondered,” be began, starting to undo the buttons, “what it would be like,” working his way down his shirt, shrugging it off of his toned shoulders, exposing his tattooed chest and abdomen to you, “to fill you up.” Law gazes down at you, face painted with a knowing smirk.

You felt heat begin to grow in your core as you stared up at the shirtless man before you, your cheeks now glowing pink.

“L-Like how?” you stuttered meekly.

Law chuckles at you before sinking to his knees before you, placing his strong hands at the waistband of your skirt before pulling it down in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your slick-coated panties, causing you to blush even deeper, heat now boiling in your core.

“I want you to think about,” he begins, pausing to kiss along your thighs, “what it would be like,” he kisses more, making his way towards your slit beneath the fabric of your underwear, “to be stuffed full of my cum,” he begins to kiss your slit, causing you to gasp and reach down to grab ahold of his dark hair, “to be filled with my babies, y/n”

“L-Law…” his name is the only thing you can utter in response to his lewd confession.

He hooks his fingers beneath the band on your panties, pulling them down, too, to meet your skirt in a pile on the floor.

He spread your legs slightly to give himself access to your dripping pussy, rewarding it with a long stripe of his hot, wet tongue, causing you to throw your head back and cry out for him.

“A-Ah, L-Law-!”

His tongue continues its ravenous assault on your clit and opening, causing your legs to shake and buckle beneath you, but your strong boyfriend holds you up, not stopping for even a moment, his tongue still working wonders into your cunt. He lapped and swirled his tongue at your swollen clit, earning more gasps and cries from within your throat. Your vision began to grow hazy as Law pulls you further and further towards your impending orgasm.

“L-Law, i’m c-coming!” you cried, fingers still locked in his dark hair.

He only groans into your pussy in response, still feverishly working at your clit.

In an instant, the knot growing within your stomach snaps, and you’re gushing fluids onto Law’s hardworking tongue, throwing your head back and crying at the intensity of your orgasm.

“O-oh, my god, Law!”

Before you can even have a chance to recover, Law scoops you up and hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you to his bed.

“H-Hey!” you meekly protested, hitting your delicate fists into his back, “I need a second!”

“Sorry, dear,” he began, voice ridden with lust, “Need you now.”

You blushed immensely at his confession as he throws you gently onto the bed, wasting no time as he climbs atop you and locks his lips with yours. He’s breathing heavily as he kisses you, overcome with passion and desire. Your tongues dance together as you moan into one another’s mouths, Law dipping his hand down to begin working at the button and zipper to his jeans. You hear the familiar sound of a zipper being dragged along its track and clothes hitting the floor. When you open your eyes and glance down, you’re pleasantly surprised to see your boyfriend’s long, beautiful cock standing upright against his stomach, pulsing with desire to be encased within your hot, tight, welcoming walls.

You wait patiently for Law to climb off of you and retrieve a condom from his nightstand, like he always does. Except, this time, for the first time, it begins differently. Law catches you offguard by taking his throbbing cock in his hand and rubbing his flushed, leaking tip up and down your slit, bare.

“B-But Law,” you started, voice trembling, “W-What about protection?” you uttered meekly.

Law chuckles as he holds himself up on top of you, his muscular arm flexing, still using his other hand to rub his bare tip against your leaking slit. “I want to feel you, y/n,” he begins, “Really feel you,” his voice is low and husky, “Everyday I sit at my desk and imagine what it would be like to fill you up with my cum until its spilling out of that pretty pussy of yours. I want to pump my babies into you, y/n” his face is in your neck as he confesses, his voice like warm honey in your ears.

Your legs tremble around his waist as you feel the evidence of your arousal now leaking more profusely onto your boyfriend’s thick cock.

“Then stuff me full, Law, please,” you purred into his ear, your voice velvety and seductive.

Law’s breath hitches in his throat and you feel his big cock twitch against your opening, clearly aroused by your desperate plea. He groans in your ear as he begins to push his blunt tip into your tight, leaking hole.

“F-Fuck baby,” he groans, “You ready?”

“Fuck me, Law,” you grasped at his muscular back as you pleaded, “Fill me with your babies.”

At this, Law wastes no time pushing into you, you let out a loud cry as he stuffs you full, in one swift motion, his long cock is fully enveloped within your tight, gummy walls.

“O-Oh my god, L-Law, you’re so big-!” you cry out, nails digging down his back.

He groans at the familiar feeling of your hot walls squeezing him in so tightly.

“I know I am, baby, show me you can take it,” he teases, voice shaky with pleasure.

Law begins to thrust his hips into yours, fucking you into the mattress as you shake and cry beneath him.

You inhale sharply each time he thrusts forwards, his blunt tip kissing your cervix with each movement, causing a small bulge in your stomach. Noticing this as well, Law smirks and presses a hand to your stomach to intensify your pleasure,

“Look at that, baby,” he groans, his eyes motioning to where his cock shows through your skin, “look how good im stuffing you,”

You cry out in pleasure, looking down to be greeted with the sight of Law’s cock pulsing beneath your skin.

“M-Mmm! Law-!”

Law’s tattooed hand moves upwards to hold your face, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your cheek before he wipes your tears.

“You’re being such a good girl, y/n, taking this big cock of mine so damn well,” he praises.

You moan at his lewd remarks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing your ankles into his back, silently begging for him to go harder, faster, anything, you just needed more.

“Oh yeah?” Law smirks, “As you wish, my love.”

Law brings his hips back before slamming into you, making you scream out for him.

“Fuck! Law!” you cried, helplessly digging into his back. Your head spun at the intensity of the entire situation, your boyfriend finally letting his lewd desires escape his brain, his stoic composure breaking and coming undone and he pounds into your tight pussy and groans your name from atop you.

A serious 180 from earlier, when nothing but silence filled the room, but now, as your boyfriend had his way with you, the walls vibrated with the obscene sounds of moans and wet skin slapping together.

Law’s balls slapped against your cunt with each forward thrust, making you moan out delightfully at the feeling.

You felt yourself reaching your limit, colored tars dancing beneath your eyelids as you squeezed them shut while Law’s cock battered your cervix.

You dug your nails harder into his toned back, surely drawing blood, making him groan out loudly in pleasure.

“Shit, y/n, you’re taking me so well, you’re so fucking tight.”

You knew exactly what you had to say to break him, to make him burst inside you.

“F-Fill me, Law…” you whimpered in between thrusts, “stuff me full of your babies, make them leak out of this little pussy,” you cried, your eyes filled with tears, drool spilling from your mouth as you moaned for him.

“F-Fuck, y/n! You have no idea what that does to me-!” Law groaned through gritted teeth, his body trembling as he railed you.

And then, he pulls your legs from the death-lock they had on his waist and presses them down into the mattress, forcing you into a mating press.

“L-Law-!” you cried, now feeling his cock even deeper.

“G-Gotta make sure I get it all into you, y/n,” he groaned into your ear, making you shiver, “None of this cum can go to waste,” he purred, “Need to shoot it straight into your womb~”

You blush immensely at his obscene words.

He thrusts harder, now, the bulge in your stomach showing more prominently.

“N-Nghhh-! L-Law! I’m s-so close-!” you screamed, feeling yourself coming undone beneath pleasure-hungry, lust-ridden boyfriend.

“I’m right behind you, dear,” Law groaned, assuring you, “Let it out.”

And with his permission, you felt stars dance beneath your skin as you orgasmed, gushing onto Law’s throbbing cock, coating him in your slick.

“F-Fuck, baby,” Law cursed, voice hoarse, “I’m coming,” he groaned into your ear.

In an instant, you feel as Law’s cock shoots hot ropes of cum into your pussy, decorating your inner walls.

You throw your head back and moan out, digging your fingers into the bedsheets, trembling at the new sensation.

“L-Law-! Fuck! I feel it!” you cried, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes and spilling down your hot, red cheeks.

“Y-Yeah? You feel my cum shooting into you, baby?” he groans, still thrusting into you, riding out his orgasm, forcing his cum deeper into you, “Gotta stuff it all into you,” he moans out.

You shake beneath him, feeling his hot cum begin to spill out of your cunt as he continues to stuff you with his big cock.

Eventually, Law’s hips slow and then still, his tattooed chest heaving up and down as he breaths heavily, coming down from his high.

He reaches down with a shaky hand and pulls out of you slowly, making you whine as you throb around nothing.

“Y/n?” he inquires, looking down at your flushed body, wet with sweat and moving up and down shakily as you breathe, attempting but failing to catch your breath. “Are you okay, doll?” he voice was ridden with concern, fearful that he overstepped with his kink.

You smirk and him and sit up, making him lay down before settling into his warm chest, his cum running down your legs.

You feel at home.

You hum happily before you looking up at him with your big doe eyes.

You grab his large hand in your smaller one, placing it gently on your stomach before leaning in to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, mirroring his statement from earlier,

“Everyday, I sit on your bed and think about how empty I feel.”

You feel your boyfriend tense beneath you, blush tinting his cheeks as you playfully bite at the shell of his ear,

“Thank you for filling me up, Law~”

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

anon, my dear, i sincerely hope this quenched your thirst-! it surely did mine (,,> ᴗ <,,)

i hope you all enjoyed breeding kink law!! ʚ♡︎ɞ

kisses,

willow ꒰⚘݄꒱

[sabohime]

Sabo and law threesome ?🫶🏽

♡ hehe anon you’re speaking my language!

you’re on your side in bed, sandwiched between your lovers. law is behind you, his heavy cockhead prodding your asshole as he rasps dirty things in your ear about how he’ll tear you open. sabo is in front of you, his cock gliding between your folds, wet with your slick. he doesn’t slip inside you, content with teasing for now. law’s tattooed fingers creep in between your thighs, and you let him ease open your legs as he preps your awaiting hole. when he finally pushes in, sabo swallows your moans in a kiss, and eagerly drinks up your screams of pleasure as he finally thrusts up into your cunt. when law cums, he decorates your ruined asshole with his thick spend— murmuring about how it would look so much better dripping from your pussy instead. alas, it’s sabo’s turn, and when his gloved hands grip your hips and he finally releases inside of you, you feel your stomach burn with the familiar warmth of his cum. sabo suckles your nipples as you ride through your own orgasm, and law reaches around to stimulate your clit. once you come down from your high, your lovers trail kisses down your body, and before you know it they’ve switched sides. “ready for round two, y/n-ya?” “yeah, princess. let us be a little greedy tonight.”