“So, we’re gonna play it like that, huh, Cook?” “Oh yeah. We’re gonna play it like that,” Sanji returns, despite having absolutely no fucking clue what Zoro could possibly mean by that. --- Or: The Great Game of Gay Chicken Aboard the Thousand Sunny

Most days, Sanji considers himself a bundle of neuroses at best. He smokes a reasonable amount to distract himself from the anxious urge to play with his hair or bite at his nails or chew his lips, he wears layers and suits to avoid direct skin-to-skin contact he isn’t prepared for, and most importantly, he never ever looks at his back in the mirror. Usually these things work to keep him intact, to keep him here and sane and passably whole. But some days, they don’t. And that’s when Sanji needs it. Namely—the sex.

“Luffy.” “Yeah?” “Please tell me I’m hallucinating.” Fear. The smell of it, the sound of it. Luffy’s never felt fear like this come from Sanji before. He hates it. “He’s real. And I think he’s you,” Luffy says. __ A reunion. A camping trip on an uninhabited island. A question. And a gift, or perhaps, an answer. Wherein a Sanji straight from the dungeons of Germa appears in their midst and no one, least of all Sanji, knows what to do about it.

Nami has practically lived with Zoro since their freshman year of undergrad. In all that time, she's never seen him bring anyone home.

It’s like a high when the both of them resonate on that same frequency—two radios spitting static at each other ninety-percent of the time until they find overlap for one, just one, perfectly-played song. The music is brilliant and vibrant when it’s playing. It’s always over faster than Sanji ever wants it to be.

When Vice Admiral Garp requests to board the Thousand Sunny, he is unceremoniously told no. Robin is all too happy to tell him why. "Because Luffy does not want to see you. I don’t need another reason than that. But, if you’d like me to give you one… You will not be seeing Luffy because you are a coward that doesn’t deserve him."

Sanji feels eyes on him before he even hears the footsteps, and he sighs, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the rail. He could try to run, he knows, could jump over the rail and make his escape before whoever it is is upon him, but really what would be the point? It's not like he has anywhere to escape to. A glance over his shoulder reveals one of Big Mom's Sweet Commanders, the big one with the tattoos and the scarf, and for the second time since arriving on Tottoland Sanji finds himself meeting golden eyes. The man's expression is blank, the greater part of his face hidden beneath the bulk of his scarf, but one glance at him is enough to tell this isn't going to be a friendly encounter. "Don't worry." Sanji says, leaning against the rail and bringing his cigarette to his lips, breathing deep. He blows out a cloud of smoke, not meeting the man's eyes as he looks over the lower palace, counting the lights still on in the town below. "I'm not trying to escape."

Sanji being tied up was a treat. The wiggly cook was hard to pin down, and he didn’t particularly like being restrained when they were on the high seas, just in case of an attack, but hotels? Docked safely on inhabited islands? They all quickly took advantage of the rest to string up their favorite chef. To watch him strain himself against the expertly tied knots and leather. The positions for only them to see and enjoy. Really, the cook of the Strawhat pirates was easily one of their most prized possessions.

In the wake of the Straw Hats' passage, Pudding finds an unexpected source of understanding in her third-eldest brother. “Look,” he said, and then paused, as one of his hands twitched in turn to his pocket and then his scarf, “I’m not— I didn’t come here to accuse you of anything.” “Why are you here, then?” Pudding took a deep breath. He wouldn’t know about her betrayal. He couldn’t. “Straw Hat,” said Katakuri, dropping those two words into the air like they weren’t loaded bullets.

Buggy stops at a bar in East Blue and there’s this angry looking kid asking about the Captain. Asking what would have happened if the Captain had a kid. And everyone starts laughing like the idea is ridiculous. Like Roger hadn’t taken in two street rats and given them a home.

Three inches in front of Sanji's face, Zoro is wearing an expression that could wither stone. "What the fuck," the swordsman snarls, "do you think you’re doing." The remaining logical dregs of Sanji's brain recognize that he's just gotten himself into a pretty dicey situation. The rest of it apparently doesn't fucking care, though, because the absurd line of response he comes up with is to grin right in Zoro's supremely pissed-off face and say- "Well, what was your dumb ass doing?" In which the crew’s plastered, Zoro needs to blow off some steam, and Sanji gets taught a lesson or two.

Lieutenant Junior Grade Smoker doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this but it better have been worth it to make up for the situation he’s stuck in. He’s no stranger to getting assigned chores and duties below his rank, but this is a new low. And now he’s stuck on a restaurant ship with the newest recruit and the order to keep her out of trouble while the rest of the crew tries to track down Dracule Mihawk to find out why he decided to visit the East Blue of all places. How they ever lost track of whatever big-ass galleon one of the Seven Warlords would surely travel on, he has no idea.

Sabo and Koala visit Amestris and take back a souvenir which is fortunate because Ace really needs all the help he can get after his brush with Akainu. Or Ace becomes a merman because of reasons.

Who is the best big brother? Of course it's Ace! (Also: Another day aboard Moby Dick.)

In the original timeline, Shanks took Higuma's mistreatment calmly and with dignity, shaping Luffy's essential character for the rest of his life. In this timeline... "Huh!" said the kid. He tugged at his cheeks. "Guess I'm in the past, then!" His expression cleared, because apparently that made sense to him, and he grinned. "Shanks! Hey, Shanks, you never told me how cool you are!"

Here’s the thing he quietly decided long ago: he will forget his native tongue in favor of common words, and leave the past in the past.

Left with only three other crew mates, it’s a ready expectation that Sanji will start fawning all over Robin in his usual obnoxious way. However, that’s not what happens. Instead, looking wild around the eyes in a way only someone who knows him well would recognize, the cook doesn’t break stride until he’s firmly within Zoro’s orbit and can wrap both hands around his upper arm, clinging tight. “Hi, darling,” he chirps, his expression desperately conveying that Zoro needs to play along under pain of death. “Did you miss me?”

"I'm not paranoid!" Haruta hisses, eyes darting everywhere. "Ace is either the best liar I've ever met, or--well, he's not, because if he was I wouldn't suspect anything, but I do, I suspect he's a spy!" The Life and Times Of Portgas D Ace, Totally A Marine Spy

The first time Luffy walks into the Baratie with Usopp and Zoro during lunch rush, Sanji has to go stand in the walk-in freezer to scream into his hands. He wants to tell Zoro to get the fuck out. He cannot tell Zoro to get the fuck out, because that’s unreasonable and rude. Just because Zoro is—unfortunately—Sanji’s type in men doesn’t mean Sanji can act like a child around him. See, Sanji wasn't gay until he met Gin. Gin wasn't gay, either. What they did together was everything from "practice" to "just some fun" to "giving a friend a hand" (or mouth, or hole). But they certainly, absolutely were not boyfriends because Gin was straight and Sanji was straight. It was perfect, until Sanji had to go and ruin it by liking it too much. He flew too close to the gay-sun and his not-gay wings of wax melted, go fucking figure.

“Yeah, well,” Zoro says, “I thought you’d say no.” “Why would I say no?” Law asks, the corners of his lips tugging down in a frown. “Because you’re a control freak,” Zoro snorts, looking away from the sake bottle to meet Law’s eyes instead. “I thought control freaks didn’t drink.”

What Zoro and Nami have is an understanding. It’s easy, casual. There’s no romance or soft words or even claim on the other and it’s with this understanding they extend an invitation to Law, easing him down from the hard edge of tension under the guise of an offered distraction before reaching Dressrosa. It's supposed to be a one-time thing. - Or: Law is introduced to something he didn’t know he needed (and Zoro and Nami find themselves with a Captain, who isn’t theirs, in a very bad state).

Hands came to clutch at his haramaki as Sanji returned the kiss. It was reminiscent of the first time they'd done this, after the encounter with Kuma on Thriller Bark. The cook had looked wrecked finding him after, and it'd taken days before Zoro remembered Franky's advice to him. The difference now laid in experience. Zoro knew Sanji's body, and the opposite also held true. He wriggled into a more comfortable position, and encouraged Sanji's questing hands with a suck on his tongue. When they roamed down his back, Zoro's legs widened of their own accord. Fingers dug into his firm asscheeks, kneading and spreading them. Then they pressed into his crease, and Sanji's breath stuttered, breaking away from the kiss. Then the cook groaned, a dirty, incorrigible sound. There's a number of responsibilities Zoro has as first mate of the Straw Hat Pirates, and sometimes that includes fighting the demons of a certain curly brows... naked.

There was a hook in the Cook’s galley floor. Zoro should've ignored it but it's not like he's all that good at keeping his mouth shut around Sanji.

One thing can get Zoro to sweat more than he does in the gym. Well, one person.

Sometimes, Law knows Sanji better than he knows himself.

Kuina meets a spirit with green hair. Or, Very Lost Boy Found At The Shore.

“Are you familiar with the custom of the sea?” Robin asked. “The one among shipwreck survivors.” Sanji was the cook. It was his job to feed the crew.

After five years of traveling together, Sanji still finds new things to learn about his crewmates.

In ten seconds, Marco the Phoenix would warily accept Whitebeard’s order to stand guard outside the door while the enemy captain and Mama spoke inside. Or; Marco is a friendly fuck, and Katakuri gets one evening of respite from his family issues.

It’s funny, Robin notes as she sits on the deck of the Thousand Sunny, book in hand, That the people who are called Demon, Monster, Devil aboard this ship of dreams are not the true Monsters. No, she thinks, watching her crew as they spend the day on the deck of the Sunny, Not monsters at all. - Or: The East Blue has a different nickname to those in the Grand Line, and those who hail it as home have a few... unique traits.

“I might end up having to kill you. That makes me an enemy, don’t you understand?” “But enemies are supposed to hate each other, right?” Straw Hat questioned, drawing his eyes back to Katakuri’s face. “Do you?” (Luffy is insistent that he and Katakuri are friends, and Katakuri is insistent that they are not. One of them is very much in denial, but perhaps for good reason.)

Snip, snip, snip, go the scissors, as Pudding cuts herself out of her mother's life. She won't be going alone.

On the high seas pirates draw their power not from devil fruit but with deals with demons, and pay the price in turn. Blood, salt, and water, everyone's soul is on the line, but only if you're fool enough to make a deal.

By the time he’s facing the alley again, there’s nothing and no one there, even the dust completely still. Sanji would think it was his imagination. Except he knows that glowing amber eye. “Oh fuck,” Sanji mutters when he realizes what’s happening. The pokes at his awareness had indeed been taunts, little warnings that someone was most definitely in pursuit, and closing in quickly. The realization of what is about to happen has Sanji’s mouth watering, heart knocking so hard in his chest he’s sure his hidden pursuer can hear it, wherever he is hiding. - Sanji is being followed through town, but it’s no stranger pursuing the lovely cook.

It starts then. Thinking little of it, feeling only pleased and relaxed, Law smiles and says into the heat of Zoro’s skin, “Join my crew.”

Zoro would thank Luffy for introducing him to Law all those months back, if he ever dared to tell him why in the first place that is, but their mutual friend didn't have to know what kind of relationship they had developed. Only him and Law would ever know what happened behind that door everytime Zoro would visit. (or Law and Zoro having a rough session in the BDSM room)

Sanji will just go knock. Appease his own sense of responsibility, get yelled off, and come back to his own bed knowing he tried. It’s the least he owes the frustrating marimo, as crewmates; to at least make sure he’s got options.

“He wasted food?” Was Sanji’s predictable response. “Nah, it didn’t go to waste,” Luffy assured him. “After Helmeppo left, Zoro made me pick up the dirty smushed up onigiri and feed him it all anyway! Then he told me to tell Rika it was delicious.” “Huh.” Sanji got up, looking thoughtful as he turned back to the kitchen. The rest of the crew still looked fascinated by the story of Zoro’s recruitment. (or the strawhats learn for the first time how zoro joined the crew and sanji takes the news… differently.)

Despite literal years of Zeff badgering Sanji and trying to get him to give up being the sous-chef at the Baratie and go on his own adventures already, Sanji refuses. He owes Zeff his life, his past and future, everything he can give the old man—he's not leaving. His occasional excursions elsewhere and back are just temporary ('internships,' Zeff calls them), and he always eventually returns home. This time Sanji visits Tottoland, excited to learn from the culinary envy of the world, but he encounters a lot more trouble there than he expects in Charlotte Katakuri.

Sanji Black, Executive Chef and owner of Le Tout Bleu, successfully defends his restaurant and its customers from aggressive paparazzi one evening with style. A video of the fight goes viral, though, and one of the celebrities in the center of the whole mess develops quite the intense—and public—crush.

Newly reunited and fresh into the New World, the Strawhats split up again briefly to chase rumors of the Mera Mera no Mi. Zoro and Sanji are assigned the long con: whispers place the Devil Fruit in the Lumo Archipelago under the care of Roland Vane, ex Level 6 prisoner of Impel Down. Vane is a recluse and only accessible monthly at pretentious wine tasting parties hosted at his mansion, and only his exclusive group of friends are invited, all queer couples who also enjoy boring cheese plates and even more boring art. The obvious solution is to fake having a husband.

Once upon a December... Roronoa Zoro, left winger for the Mugiwara hockey team, meets figure skater Sanji at the rink and it's hate at first sight. Throw in an unfortunate Secret Santa assignment, and it's the perfect recipe for holiday hijinks on ice.

When it comes to Pudding, Sanji is happy to be in the palm of her hand. (Or not, as is more often the case.)

Garp is old and wondering if this is how the bloodline will end when he gets a call from his quite frankly horrified sounding son. They talk. or. "The Monkey D Family is an odd phenomenon because nobody knows how they reproduce a child" said moonelnone on tumblr, "#they just disappear for awhile and they suddenly have a child" moonelnone also said (

Every step Sanji took, he wanted to die. Every step he took, gods, he felt alive. It was strange, odd, uncomfortable, glorious, his mate's arm around his shoulders, all burly muscle, tucking Sanji under impressive biceps and up against just-as-impressive obliques. You'd think Zoro was an alpha to look at him on a normal day. Broad, head high as always - could he have walked any other way if he tried? - dripping confidence, exuding well-earned ego. And his lover, Sanji, so much narrower, several inches shorter with their carefully chosen shoes, head a little ducked as he smoked through a slim little black filter. "I think I'm gonna have a fucking heart attack." "Good thing I'm here to give you mouth to mouth, cutie."

None of them called him the "ship's omega." It wasn't... really like that. A lot of ships had omega crewmates whose station was defined by their secondary sex, or at the least who joined up knowing what their job was among a shipful of pirates out to sea for weeks at a time. Zoro was not that. He wasn't a friend with benefits or a glorified servant or even one of the so-called Crewman Os who had their own jobs and stations but lay down and made their bodies available when a crewmate needed it. He was just... Zoro.

Law still remembered his first whiff of the first omega to capture his attention. He was no fool, of course - he was a doctor, and he lived that title - knew that omega meant nothing in the realms of personality and power, no more than woman did. But the combination, so clearly Mugiwara's right hand at his beck and call and just as clearly his own man, was staggering. Confusing. God, it had nearly bowled him over.

Zoro would thank Luffy for introducing him to Law all those months back, if he ever dared to tell him why in the first place that is, but their mutual friend didn't have to know what kind of relationship they had developed. Only him and Law would ever know what happened behind that door everytime Zoro would visit. (or Law and Zoro having a rough session in the BDSM room)

It was an exciting day for Luffy when he met a rather unusual looking fellow at the port.

At first, Zoro thinks Nami's just hungover.