Bodyodyodyody

he's so cunty it's insane

peak comedy.

straw hat sanji.png

Every time I see someone saying that Nami, Robin, Usopp, Sanji betrayed Luffy in my head I sentence them to watch Arlong Park, Enies Lobby, WCI, and every scene with Usopp from the beginning to Enies Lobby until they understand why these four did it

Sugar Cookies | Sanji x Reader

Summary: Just two shy oblivious fools in love. Tags: f!reader, no use of y/n, pure tooth-rotting fluff

Note: i imagined the reader here being the same one from my other fic “Good Mornings”, so this can be read as a continuation to that, but can definitely be read as a one-shot too!

A now familiar sight greeted you as you stepped into the kitchen of the Thousand Sunny – Sanji, his back to you as he tirelessly worked on preparing today’s breakfast. It had fallen into your routine to join the blonde chef in the kitchen every morning, yet no matter how many times you've seen it, you never got tired of watching the man cook. 

They say the way to one’s heart is through the stomach. You never truly understood what that meant until you met Sanji. You fell in love at first bite with his cooking, but the more you got to know him, the more you found yourself falling for the blue-eyed cook himself. You were captivated by his charm, his kindness, his gentleness, and the way he deeply cared for each of his crewmates – yes, even the mosshead. 

A cup of coffee awaited you on the kitchen bar, steam still billowing off the mug. Sanji had memorized by now the hour and minute you usually come into the kitchen. He had gotten the timing of serving your coffee down to a science, making the drink just the right temperature for your first sip of the day – not too hot that it would scald your tongue, but also not left on the table long enough for it to be unpleasantly lukewarm. 

You took a deep breath through your nose, savoring the usual aroma of coffee and bacon, but there was also a hint of something else wafting through the air today. Something sweet – a delicate blend of vanilla, butter, and sugar. 

“Oh, good morning, sweetheart!” Sanji called out as he noticed you, and you felt your heart involuntarily skip a beat. 

The nickname didn’t use to affect you this much. Sanji had been calling you sweetheart since the very first moment he saw you, eyes full of hearts and arms waving to grab your attention. Truthfully, you found it annoying at first, even more so when you realized he acted like that with every single woman he met. But, somehow, somewhere along the way, you found yourself addicted to hearing him call you the term of endearment, even when you thought he didn’t actually mean it. How could he, when he called every other woman that?

Little did you know, somehow, somewhere along the way, Sanji had miraculously found himself looking less and less at other women. He didn’t even notice it until one day, Nami asked if he was feeling sick, thinking something was wrong because he hadn’t flirted with her for a record three days straight. Nami eventually figured out that Sanji hadn’t dropped his lovesick act, he was just reserving it for you. She didn’t say a thing, though, secretly entertained by your and Sanji’s obliviousness to each other’s true feelings. 

Sanji set down a plate of heart-shaped sugar cookies next to your coffee and winked at you, “Something sweet for someone sweet.”

He really needed to stop saying lines like that before you end up in the sick bay with heart failure.

A little peek at the jar on the counter showed you that the rest of the cookies he had set aside for your crewmates were all round-shaped, unlike the hearts he gave you. You tried not to read too much into it, lest you get your hopes up.

“Try dipping them into the coffee, dear, it’ll balance out the sweetness,” Sanji suggested as he returned to the stove, flipping some more bacon and adding them to the already massive pile on a plate.

You took a cookie and dipped it into your coffee, as per Sanji’s instruction, and you couldn’t stop the moan rising out from your throat as the bittersweet taste mingled exquisitely upon your tongue.

Sanji froze at the sound, before clearing his throat awkwardly, “Enjoying the cookies?”

He turned off the stove and started wiping down the oil splatters off the counter. 

“They’re perfect.” You told him as you popped another one of the buttery goodness into your mouth. Jokingly, you added, “I’m afraid you’re gonna have to make these for me every day for the rest of your life, Sanji.” 

You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the sincerity in his tone when he replied, “That would be my greatest pleasure, sweetheart.”

His heartfelt remark caused a tightness in your chest, and you were suddenly awash with an irresistible wave of affection for the cook. You got up from your seat, your feet unwittingly carrying you toward the man still clearing up the countertop. 

Once you were right behind him, you wrapped your arms gently around his slim waist and rested the side of your face against his back, “Thanks, Sanji. You’re always so sweet to me.”

Sanji’s whole body stiffened under your touch, and you felt your heart drop. What were you thinking, suddenly hugging him like this? Of course he’d feel uncomfortable.  

You immediately started to remove your arms, but he urgently grabbed onto them, stopping you from letting go of the embrace. You looked up at Sanji curiously, only to find him tilting his head up toward the ceiling to prevent a nosebleed from streaming down his face.

“Oh, shoot, Sanji!” You yanked your arms away from him, grabbing a dishcloth and pressing it up to his nose.

Sanji’s face was bright red with embarrassment as you wiped the blood away. A laughter tinted with mortification bubbled out of you, “Sorry, sorry! I won’t do that again!”

His hand swiftly reached up to grab your wrist, and you stared at him in confusion. He refused to meet your eyes, and his voice was small when he finally said, “I don’t mind if you do that again.”

You stood in stunned silence, processing his words. Did that mean he liked that you hugged him? 

Sanji took a deep breath, looking oddly determined as he finally made eye contact with you. 

“No, actually, I want you to do that again. Please.” His voice cracked slightly with nerves as he hurriedly added, “But only if you want to.”

His shyness, so different from his usual over-the-top flirting, surprised you. It felt like he was giving you a peek at his genuine feelings that up till now had been thoroughly disguised by layers of exaggerated acts.

“Just, uh, give me a warning next time, maybe?” Sanji chuckled nervously, “Sorry, it just felt like my heart was going to explode.”

“Right.” You said, trying to supress a grin at how adorable he was being right now, “Consider this your warning, then.”

You tossed the bloody dishcloth into the sink and placed your hands on either side of him, looking right into his eyes as you announced, “I’m gonna hug you again, ‘kay?”

This time, when you pulled him close, Sanji’s arms moved to wrap around you too, one snaking around your waist, while the other cradled your head into his chest. 

He sighed in contentment at the feeling of you against him, marveling at the way your bodies fit perfectly like puzzle pieces — like you were made just for him. 

This close to him, you could feel his heart pounding a million beats per minute, and you wondered if he could feel yours racing at the same speed. 

After a few minutes — or hours, you couldn’t tell — Sanji admitted, “Still feel like my heart’s gonna explode.”

You chuckled and confessed, “Mine too.”

Sanji pulled away slightly from the embrace but kept you close, not intending to let you go anytime soon now that he finally had you in his arms. A speck of insecurity was evident in his expression as he searched your eyes, looking for validation that you wanted this as much as he did. Yes, Sanji blatantly flirted with you all the time, but at this moment, faced with the real possibility of something more, he was terrified. He was scared that you would regard his actions as unserious or thought that his feelings were a mere infatuation, when in fact, it ran so much deeper than that. 

Sanji started to tremble, and your grip on him tightened, steadying him. You caressed his back in a soothing motion and gave him an encouraging smile, while he observed you for another long second. Your eyes must have conveyed to him what you were too shy to profess through words right now, because Sanji inched the slightest bit forward, seemingly emboldened by what he found in your gaze. 

“Can I-” He gulped and cleared his throat before trying again, “Can I kiss you?” 

You felt your heart drum more erratically against your ribcage, if that was even possible. If he couldn’t feel it before, then he definitely could now. 

Warmth rushed into your cheeks as you nodded. Sanji tentatively brought his hands to your face, while yours found a home on his chest. You closed your eyes as he slowly leaned in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

Sanji’s kiss was gentle and soft, but electrifying at the same time. Full of passion, but also slow and unhurried, just like all these mornings you two share together. 

It was everything you ever imagined, and more.

“You taste sweet,” he mumbled against your lips, “Like sugar cookies.”

He pressed his forehead against yours, still in disbelief at how lucky he was to be here, having this moment with his precious sweetheart at last. 

You both were quiet for a short while before letting out relieved laughs, simply exhilarated at the thought of your long-held feelings being reciprocated.

“Can we do that again?” Sanji asked hesitantly.

You fondly laughed and reassured him, “Sanji, you can kiss me anytime you want.” 

He grinned widely, before closing the gap once more. His lips had barely grazed yours when the door to the kitchen burst open, “Good morning, yo ho ho ho!”

You and Sanji immediately leaped apart from each other as if poked by a hot iron, a space far too wide for your liking suddenly materializing between the two of you.

“Ah, my apologies.” Brook said with a hand covering his mouth, though he sounded more amused rather than sorry, “Am I interrupting something?”

Your face felt like it was burning, the heat spreading quickly down your neck as you awkwardly folded your arms across your chest, refusing to respond to the musician’s question. 

Sanji’s face was similarly flushed, but he also looked absolutely furious that someone dared to interrupt a scene that he had been dreaming about day and night for a very, very long time.

The cook quickly took the kettle off the burner and poured some hot water into a teapot he had already prepared earlier in the morning.  

“Here’s your morning tea.” He thrust a tray with the teapot and a cup onto Brook’s bony hands, before shooing him out, “Now get out, you creepy skeleton!”

He kicked the door shut in Brook’s face and sighed, rubbing his temples while grumbling about the geezer’s awful timing, before turning back to you.

Sanji’s bashful smile slowly returned when he saw you giggling in amusement at his outburst, which, he admitted, was a tad excessive. Oh well, he’d apologize to Brook later, but right now, he had something more important to get to. And no, it wasn’t finishing breakfast prep. That could wait — he was nearly done anyway.

Your heartbeat picked up all over again as he strode purposefully across the kitchen toward you,

“Now, where were we, sweetheart?”

a/n: yes i stole that “something sweet for someone sweet” line from opla sanji - couldn't get my mind off it. anyway, all of my fics so far have been platonic (or romance-adjacent at most), so this was actually my first attempt at writing a more romance-centric fic. i hope that was okay?? feedback and constructive criticisms are always welcome!

te extraño thriller bark <\3

I love the coward trio

cw: fluff. set after timeskip.

Tonight you’ve taken charge of kitchen cleaning duty, and Luffy - initially reluctant to do any type of chore but now eagerly mopping the floor because it means he gets to spend some alone time with you - is singing loudly as he works just paces away. Stationed in front of a mountain of dishes to wash and store away, courtesy of the man just mentioned, you find that despite his questionable singing voice you’re in some way lulled into a sort of quietude by it.

Scrub, dunk, set to dry. Scrub, dunk, set to dry. 

You find yourself humming under your breath.

It’s been several months since you’ve all come together again to continue your collective journey and the time just spent with Luffy, particularly the last six months between the Island of Women and Luffy’s training island, is starting to become a remote memory. You wonder how much of the blossoming of your relationship was spurred from the combination of painful grief, loneliness and forced proximity, and what will remain now that that no longer exists.

You and Luffy are happy, as are all of the Straw Hats, to be a crew again. Raucous dinners abounding every night, nary a moment alone; there is always constant play and the ever pressing hope of adventure.

You wonder every once in a while if that will change things. 

Luffy stops singing abruptly, and somehow the sound of silence is deafening, as though the mirthful notes were sucked out by a vacuum. You turn a little too fast, such that it almost appears accusatory, and look right at him.

“Is everything okay?”

Luffy looks at the suds-filled bucket in front of him for a moment, then looks up at you. A big grin resumes on his face in response to your worried one, which only serves to confuse you further.

“I missed sleeping next to you, what if-”

Your cheeks warm.

“No.”

You turn back to wash the dishes but you can practically feel the pout in your direction, and in a comically long single stride over next to you, he places his chin on your shoulder.

“But-”

“Luffy, Nami and Robin will be right there-”

“Okay, they can cuddle too!”

Your eyes widen and you turn to look at him but he’s grinning, impossible to faze.

“Go cuddle with your mates in the men’s quarters then!” you hiss.

He pouts, wrapping his arms around your waist multiple times over. “But the point is to cuddle with you,” he whines.

“It’s inappropriate,” you insist, even if your face is growing hotter by the second. You turn on the faucet again, but forgetting what you’re doing you end up scrubbing your hands furiously even though you don’t need to in the least before realizing what you’re doing and stopping abruptly, letting out a sigh.

Luffy still hasn’t let go.

“I can kick everyone out of the men’s quarters,” Luffy offers, grinning. “They’ll understand!”

“Like hell they will.” You reply, just imagining the sheer dirty look Zoro would give you and Sanji would give Luffy, and he pouts.

“Well, how about the lifeboat?”

You finally wriggle around in his grasp to face him.

“All this just to sleep in the same bed?” you ask, incredulous. He nods emphatically, then kisses you on the forehead.

“Yeah, duh.”

Mollified despite yourself, you give him a long discerning look then let your arms wrap around his shoulders before pressing a kiss to his nose.

“How about we start with a nap on the couch in a couple minutes, okay?” you suggest, and he smiles, finally unwrapping you to finish his work. His song resumes and the mountain of dishes to wash continues to decrease just like any one of your misgivings about how much Luffy loves you.

And to think you thought things would change.

Giggling n kicking my feet rn

sick - sanji x reader

rating - mature, MDNI 18+

word count - 860ish, just a quick blurb

warnings: mentions of your chest and piv, no beta reader, slight sub!sanji if you squint, mutual pining, slight exhibitionism, dirty thoughts, idk how to tag this lol it’s not smut but it’s still kinky

crossposted to ao3 @laughtalelogs

-

As much as Sanji denied it, he knew he was a sick, twisted bastard.

Standing like a shadow in the doorway, despite every cell in his body screaming at him to move, his feet planted firmly in the floor. The filter of his unlit cigarette smashed between his gritting teeth as he watched silently.

The way you ate your parfait entranced him, a beautiful display of skill on his part, layers of fluffy greek yogurt he had prepared the day before with spoiled milk, leftover strawberries, and homemade granola loaded on your spoon. The metal slips between plush lips, and when you pull it back out, it sparkles in the midday sun. The demon that resides in him wonders if his skin would do the same in your mouth.

Your pink tongue darts out to lick the remnants on from the corner of your mouth. He clutches the serving tray closer to his chest and he feels his knees tremble with each carefree swipe.

He wonders if you could taste his desperation in the snack, the way he had thought over each layer, scared that it wouldn’t satisfy the hungers in both of you.

Had he subconsciously picked the snack? He asks to himself, the shame of his perversions pulled him deeper in the shadows of his mind.

No, he knew what he had done.

And he enjoyed it.

That sick part of him wanted to see the white drip down your throat, to watch the satisfaction that spread across your face. He watched your fingers trace the edges of the cup, and he had never been jealous of a meal in his life.

You moan, scrapping the remnants of the bowl, you set it down on the deck beside you, sighing in satisfaction. Sanji didn’t think he’d last, recording the sound in his catalog of fappable material for later, as he stepped forward into the light, plastering his usual plastic, dopey smile as he approached you.

You kick your feet as you turn your attention back to the magazine in your lap, a lazy finger skimming the pages. The darkness he casts over you makes you peer up from the page, watching him reach over and swipe the crystal glass you had only set down a moment before.

“Hey, Ji,” the way you sing his name makes his heart hammer in his chest.

“Hi,” He answered lamely, cringing at how how high his voice had risen. He clears his throat, dry from looking down at you, if he looked closely, he could peer down your shirt. “I was just gonna take this for you. Did you enjoy the treat, princess?”

“Like always,” You smile wickedly, ”you always know how to satisfy me.”

He swallowed nothing, his tongue was cotton.

“I always aim to please,” He admits and he feels floaty, the scent of vanilla and strawberries infiltrating his nose. He turns his head to the side. If you kept looking at him like that, he was going to pass out.

“But,” You voice was low, itching the far reaches of his mind where the beast resides, mauling at his rational thoughts. His tie dangles in front of your face, and you reach out, thumbing the silk as he avoids your gaze. You watch his adam’s apple bob nervously as he tugs at the perfect windsor knot. “I want more.”

“Of cours-“ Sanji stops himself though, cursing himself to the pits of hell.

He had given all the crewmates parfaits, and had let Luffy eat the remaining portion. He feels his brow twitch. That idiot didn’t even appreciate it in the way you had, calling it weird pudding, out of all things. Now he had you, begging for more, and he couldn’t even provide that.

“I’m sorry, mon trésor,” He says, voice full of pity, “we are all out. Would you like anything else? I’ll do- I’ll make anything for you”

With a puckered lips and creased eyebrows, you mull over the idea. He wondered if he could get the same look out of you if he was buried between your legs, fanning feathery kisses in the crux of your thighs, sliding ever closer to your center, inhaling deep breaths of your pu-

“I think I’ll just wait,” You sweet voice breaks through his dazed, glossed over eyes, watching his face contort in horror and guilt.

“If you insist.” He jerks up, stiff as board, gripping the glass in his hands so hard his knuckles were stark white, casting a careful gaze that darted over your body. “I’ll leave you to your afternoon then.”

It was cute on him, you think to yourself. The humiliation caused by his own volition.

You watch him march awkwardly to the kitchen, avoiding Usopp and Chopper’s calls from the other side of the deck. The tray he shielded his lower desires, cup tremoring between deft fingers. You sigh, slumping over as soon as the galley doors slam shut.

A sick, twisted part of yourself wondered- what face would he make caged between your thighs? Maybe it’d be that same pathetic look he gave you on more than one occasion. A look that always wound up a tight coil in your stomach, in desperate need of release.

If only he could just take a hint.

—

I hope you enjoyed! I wrote this on my phone at like 4 am while listening to sza lmao. i’m still avoiding the other shit I need to write, but this was a nice break from them. back to writing for zoro!

liked this? check out my other fics - (x)

HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH~🧟‍♂️