#rob lucci

Rob Lucci 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃

He gave you a brow. Hands in his pocket, wearing a dark suit and watching you with darker eyes.

“Have you no dignity?” His voice is flat, cold but you don’t care.

You keep tiptoeing, lips still pouting and hands fisting his shirt. Pulling him. “Robbie… please, just one kiss.”

His brow line creases. Half-offended. “Don’t… call me that.”

You hum, going back to your feet. Pouting.

He’s not indulging you. Not moving one inch to kiss your lips.

Fine then.

It’s war.

You’ll nag him till he gives in.

“Luuuuci, pleaseee,” you whine out and he sighs through his nose as you keep tiptoeing up.

No answer. Just condescension seeping through his gaze.

You keep tugging, whining and only when you hear Kaku’s voice calling you both from a distance do you stop. Glancing to the source of his echo. And when you let go of Rob’s collar, eyes drifting away to the distance and heels padded fully on the floor—does he place a hand on your jaw, sliding your face to meet his gaze.

And you blink.

long, dark hair trail down your face. Tickling your shoulders, as one smooth motion of his hand slide down your hips to the small of your back, bringing you up to meet his lips.

Rob’s calloused fingers digs into your flesh, forcing a whine to leave your mouth, which he seals with a kiss. muffling you.

And the kiss is not soft but raw—pushing, claiming, forcing you to lean back so to retain footing but his hand on your jaw has made its way to the back of your hair. Forcing you deeper into his kiss.

And when Kaku’s footsteps trudge closer, only then does Rob part from you—lips clicking, strings of saliva between your tongue as he straightens himself, and your cheeks burn at the sight of his face.

Smug, cocky and entirely pleased with himself.

Jerk.

Sir Crocodile 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃

Sir Crocodile was giving you a look… quite similar from what he gives that tardy clown except there is a hint of amusement in it. But only a hint.

You were pulling on his vest, frowning.

It’s been ten whole minutes and he’s not budging.

Meanie.

“Sir… please.”

He gives you a brow, a corner of his grin going up.

“Please, what?”

Your cheeks burn flushed. “You know what.”

He tilts his head to the side, ash falling off his cigar. “No, I don’t. Indulge me.”

Your knuckles clenches, tugging at the fabric of his shirt.

He’s taunting you! What a rude little….

“You look like you’re about to explode, need a hand with anything?”

“You—…” You bite your tongue, trying to tiptoe even higher, pull his shirt even harder.

You start growing frustrated and embarrassed, but he’s been so handsome the whole day, you can’t imagine yourself leaving without kissing him—but it’s been a whole ten minutes, and still! He’s not budging.

The frustration starts to make you teary, hands clutching the fabric of his shirt so hard you feel like you’re going to tear it off of him and only then—when your eyes start glaze with tears, and your breathing starts growing hot with fury, does he lean in.

Arms unfolding. One last smoke taken before the cigar is dropped to the ground. Hook landing around your waist, tugging you closer as he grabs your ass, ringed fingers digging into the soft of your flesh as he lifts you up by the back.

Meeting his lips.

The kiss is soft, faint—until you press deeper, further, growing desperate enough that his tongue skims over your lips. Your heart starts beating out of your chest, hard and erratic as the kiss grows hotter, heavier, wet sounds escaping you both.

And when he parts? Setting you down by the ground?

It’s all smugness and adoration.

His larger hand making it to the side of your face.

“Be a good girl and fetch a new cigar in my jacket for me.” his voice rasps, thumb rubbing your lower lip.

And that’s all he has to offer for you to pad across the room. Face completely burnt.

Trafalgar D. Water Law 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃

“What are you doing.”

“What does it look like, Law!?” You huff out, toes starting to ache as you try and tiptoe further up. And Law looks at you like he should take pity on you or mock you completely.

“Law, please, just—”

“Just what?” He muses, smirk coming into place and your cheeks burn.

“Please. Just, one kiss,” your voice comes out soft, too soft and it makes him want to tease you harder.

“Why should I? Last time I checked, you called me a jerk.”

“That was two days ago!”

“And still no apology.”

You clutch onto his collar with both of your hands, trying to tug him down but he’s not budging, and the smug grin of his isn’t either.

“please Law…”

“go on, please what?”

Your brows pull, face turning into fire, “Please, I'm sorry… Can you kiss me?”

Law tilts his head, the expression he wears on his face is untelling—the grin hasn’t dropped, the cockiness as prevalent as ever and your heart beats into a storm at the sight of it. Knuckles clenching, cheeks sizzling and brows pulled hard enough to form a vein. And just when you think he’ll mock you once more, do you feel his hands land on your shoulders, sliding down your ribs, slow and streaming—landing under your butt, lifting you off your feet.

the gap closes and the friction of clothes grinding between one another makes you arch, as he lands his mouth on yours.

Pushing, claiming, and you feel his tongue skimming over yours—and on instinct—you suck.

The kiss grows hot, wet; saliva and groans exchanging between you two, parting only to breathe.

For a moment, Law only looks at you.

Taking in your features.

Breath hot on your face, and something soft settles in his gaze.

His voice low, almost a mumble under his breath and you barely catch it.

“Pretty.”

You blink. “What—?”

He kisses you again. Pushing your ass even further up, and you whine into it.

Yeah.

You two are going to be kissing for a good while.

Donquixote Doflamingo 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃

He was being a mean, rude, cocky, snobby and a barbarous little shitbird about your situation.

And it makes you seethe, hands tugging onto the pink feather of his coat.

Pulling, yanking, face fuming with frustration as you stare up his stupid handsome face.

“Doffy… please, just lean down.”

He has the audacity to snort out loud and you scoff, offended.

Your cheeks burn into fire, swallowing your pride—you’re not giving up, not yet.

“You’re mean.” You huff and he takes a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it.

“Yeah? If I’m so mean, the why are you beggin’ for a kiss, hmm?”

You pull out the trump card. “Because I love you.”

And he freezes.

You decide to go in for the kill — you give him that doe eyed look, the coquettish, begging one. “Please Doffy.” Your voice is soft, pleading, “Just one, it’s all I want.”

Doflamingo flicks your hair from his fingers, hand grabbing your jaw, as he leans down—slamming his mouth into yours.

And the taste of wine, cocktails, pineapple juice and corruption seeps all into you; his tongue sloshes over yours. Wet, hot and messy as he forces you deeper into it, possessive hands travelling down your waist and latching onto your hips. Hoisting you up.

The kiss starts growing sloppy; clicking sounds and moans slipping every time you tilt into a new angle.

And when you part, its only to breathe, huff and ground yourself. Head dizzy. Doflamingo’s forehead nudging yours.

“You love me, huh? Then you have no one to blame but yourself.” He grins, and it’s not sweet or adoring, no—it’s got wickedness written all over it; but you know what’s worse?

He is right. This is no one’s fault, but your own.

Roronoa Zoro 𓏲 ࣪˖♡𓂃

You were practically doing mini jumps to get to this man.

Tiptoeing. Neck arching. Hands tugging his collar as he gives you a long, long stare.

Arms crossed.

“Zoro.”

“No.”

You tug his shirt. “Zoro!”

“No.”

“Please!”

“Still; no.”

This is how it has been between you two for ten minutes.

You’ve been trying to steal a kiss, he’s been watching your failed attempts with the most aloof, most unbothered, most ‘this-gotta-be-a-joke-but-I-also-dont-want-it-to-end-just-yet’ face ever.

You were leaning forward, he was leaning back.

“You’re not giving me a chance!”

“So?” He gives you a brow and your face pulls into a frown. Cheeks starting to burn.

“Lean down. Please.”

Zoro blinks, slowly, before eventually tilting his head to the side, a cocky smirk coming into place.

“Sure.”

You regain some hope, tiptoeing further up, straining yourself even.

“Really!?”

“Yeah. if you beg.”

At that, your face sullen once more.

“I’ve been begging.”

“Yeah? Well, I guess you don’t want to kiss me that badly then—” He unfolds his arms, moving away and you panic. Latching harder onto him.

“Please!” You tug him towards you, ignoring the widening grin on his face.

“Please, please kiss me, please it’s all I want. Just one.”

“You want it that bad huh?”

You swallow your pride, and nod.

And at that, he scoffs. Hands going to your ass, groping, squeezing as he lifts you off the ground, his crotch grind against yours, fabric causing friction between one another as he hoists you further up—meeting his lips.

Soft. Sweet.

Lips clicking when he parts.

And he gives you a smaller smile, “Happy?”

“As if.” You lock your arms over his shoulders, bringing you two into a kiss once more.

And this time, it’s deeper, longer and messier. you have decided to reap your reward to the fullest.

ZORO

You’re in the kitchen with Nami. Soft conversation. Warm lighting. Laughing a little over booze.

“I mean, I don’t think he even realizes how much I watch him,” you say, smiling. “He’s always so focused. So serious.”

Nami raises a brow. “Wow, you’ve got it bad.”

You nod. “I know.” Then softer—like it slipped out: “I love him.”

Around the corner—Zoro stops walking.

Completely.

Stares ahead like someone just threw a sword through his chest.

He backs up. Quiet. Leans against the wall.

Breathes. Once. Twice.

“…Shit.”

When you leave the kitchen later, he’s waiting outside. Doesn’t say anything. Just pulls you to him, forehead resting on yours.

“Say it again,” he whispers. You blink. “What?”

“I need to hear it. Straight from you.”

You soften into a smile. “I love you.”

He mutters something under his breath that sounds like finally— then kisses you like he plans to hear it every day for the rest of his goddamn life.

SANJI

You’re helping Robin prep some herbs for dinner. Quiet. Peaceful.

“He’s such a flirt,” you say. “But he doesn’t realize how sincere he really is. He’s gentle. He listens. He remembers.”

Robin hums knowingly. “Sounds like you’re awfully smitten.”

You laugh, bashful. Then: “I love him, Robin.”

Outside, just beyond the doorway—Sanji nearly drops the wine bottle he was carrying.

His heart is pounding like cannon fire.

He peeks in. Sees you smiling. Glowing. Talking about him.

He exhales slowly. Hand on his chest.

“Mon dieu…”

Later that night, when everyone’s winding down, he pulls you aside. Hands shaking just a little.

“Did you mean it?” he asks. “What you said... to Robin.”

You blink, cheeks already flushing. “Y-You heard that?”

He grabs your hand. Brings it to his lips.

“I felt it,” he murmurs. “And I’ve never wanted to hear something so badly in my life.”

When you say it again, against his lips, he doesn’t kiss you. He hugs you first. So tightly you start squirming. Then kisses you like you’re an oath he’s taken for life.

SMOKER

You’re talking to Tashigi. Voice soft. Steady.

“He’s not easy to be around,” you admit, a little smile on your lips. “But I’ve never felt safer. Or more seen. I don’t think he realizes how much that means to me.”

She smiles behind her glasses. “You care for him very deeply.”

You nod. “I do. I love him.”

Out in the hall, Smoker freezes.

He’d been walking past—cigars in mouth, usual scowl in place— But now?

Everything stops.

He leans against the wall. Quiet. Processing.

You love him.

Him.

The man made of smoke and walls and muttered complaints.

Later, he walks into your room without knocking.

You look up, startled. “Smoker?”

He walks over. Pulls you into his chest. Doesn’t let go.

“Just… say it to my face next time, would you?”

You blink. “What?”

He exhales. “The thing. That you told Tashigi earlier.”

You freeze. Then soften into a smile. “What? That I love you?”

He groans softly—like it hurts. Then leans in, presses his forehead to yours.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “That.”

A few silent moments settle around you both. You smile as his thumb traces your cheek, his eyes locked on your lips.

“You mean it?” he mutters.

You smile, rising on your tiptoes as you press your lips to his. “You know I do.”

KUZAN

You’re sitting beside Borsalino. Talking quietly.

“He’s so complicated,” you say, swirling tea in your cup. “Acts so nonchalant, but he’s kind in ways no one sees. Soft when he doesn’t mean to be. And I love him for all of it.”

Kizaru just hums with a quiet smile, nodding like he already knew.

Around the corner—Kuzan stops breathing.

He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. Just… caught the tail end.

But that line. That line.

It lands like a knife made of flames right in his cold chest.

He backs away slowly. Hands in his pockets. Trying to play it cool.

Fails completely.

That night, he knocks softly on your door.

You open it, surprised. “Hey.”

He stands there, quiet. Watching you. Like he’s trying to memorize you again.

Then—softly: “You love me?”

You blink, startled. A bit scared. “...Y-You heard that?”

“Didn’t mean to.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Just… couldn’t pretend I didn’t.”

You look down. Step closer. “Yeah. I do.”

He exhales. Deep. Shaky. Then pulls you in, arms wrapping around you like you’re the only safe place left on earth.

“…Good,” he says against your hair. “Makes us both idiots.”

KIDD

You’re sitting at the workbench with Killer. Talking low.

“He’s such an ass sometimes,” you mutter. “But he remembers the smallest things. He fixes stuff without asking. And when he’s soft—god he’s so stupidly soft.”

Killer doesn’t say a word, but he ruffles your hair.

You laugh. A little embarrassed. Then—quiet. Almost shy: “Killer, I love that idiot.”

Outside, around the corner, Kidd has completely stopped functioning.

He was mid-lecture at Heat—paused. Mid-word. Mid-rage.

“…Did you hear that?” he says, like someone just punched him in the chest.

Heat opens his mouth. Closes it. Quietly walks away.

Kidd leans against the wall. Breathes like he’s holding back an explosion.

Later, he finds you. Doesn’t say much. Just steps in close.

“You told Killer something earlier.”

You freeze. Flush. “D-Did I?! Haha, I don't remem—”

“—Don’t even try.”

He stands in your way. Eyes narrowed. Voice low.

“Instead, why don’t you say it to me this time.”

You fold under his intense glare. “I... I love you, okay?”

He grabs your face. Pulls you in.

“You better.”

And then kisses the lights out of you.

BECKMAN

You’re with Yasopp and Lucky Roo. Laughing over drinks.

“He’s so calm, it makes you forget how dangerous he is,” you say. “But that’s what I love about him. I feel safe. Like I can breathe around him.”

They raise their eyebrows. Yasopp pulls a teasing smile.

“Ohooo, that’s a big word. We hear that right?”

You nod. “Yeah. I love him, you guys.”

Down the hall—Beckman stops.

He was walking in. Coffee in hand. Chill as ever. Now? His fingers curl around the mug.

You love him.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t walk in. Just stands there for a minute. Soaking it in. Processing.

Then walks away. And comes back later—heart pounding.

Finds you alone.

“Hey,” he says casually. “Got a second?”

You nod. He steps close. Not too close.

“You said something earlier. To the guys.”

You blink. “Oh. You heard that?”

He nods. “Do me a big favor and say it again. Right now.”

You smile. “...I love you, Beck.”

He exhales. Soft. Grabs the back of your neck and kisses your forehead like it’s sacred.

“…Then I think it’s about time I start acting like I’m worthy of that.”

DOFLAMINGO

You’re sitting on a couch, talking quietly to Vergo. Voice low.

“He’s... lost in his own world sometimes,” you say with a fond smile. “But I think I see more than he wants people to. There’s softness under the madness. And I love him for both parts.”

Vergo smiles. Like he sees it too. “You told him yet?”

You shake your head. “He’d laugh. Or twist it into a cruel joke.” Then softer— “But I do. I love him. Both parts.”

“Heaven and demon.”

Around the corner, Doflamingo has gone absolutely still.

He was headed in to gloat about something stupid. Now? He’s frozen. Stuck in place.

You love him, huh? Both parts?

Not just the mask, not just the monster. Him, the two parts that make up the whole.

Later, he walks in casually. Like nothing happened.

But his glasses are off.

“You love me, sweetheart?” he says flatly. Like he's trying to push something down, while opening it apart at the seams.

You nearly drop the glass in your hand. “Wait—what—”

He’s in front of you in two strides. Looks right through you.

“Say it. I want to hear you say it when you know I’m listening.”

You stare back, defiant. “I love you, Doffy.”

He exhales. Shaky. Covers his eyes. Like he hates what it does to him.

What you do to him.

“Stupider than I pegged you for...” he mutters.

Then lowers his hand. Grabs his glasses. Grins.

Small. Real. A little shaky.

“…Fine. I’m yours, then. You better be ready for that.”

LUCCI

You’re in the corner of a quiet hallway, talking to Kaku.

“I don’t think he even knows how much I care,” you whisper. “He’s so guarded. But I see it—the little things. The way he notices. The way he protects without ever admitting it.”

Kaku nods. “You sound in deep.”

You smile. “I am. I love him.”

Down the hall, Lucci stops moving.

Doesn’t blink. Doesn’t breathe. Just… listens.

You love him.

And you said it like it wasn’t terrifying. Like it wasn’t impossible.

Like it was true, of all things.

He doesn’t interrupt. Doesn’t confront you. Just turns. Walks away. Quiet.

Later, he shows up at your door. Doesn’t knock. Just opens it.

You blink. “Lucci?”

He walks over. Stares down at you.

“You were speaking with Kaku earlier.”

You hesitate. “…I was.”

He nods. Slow. Serious.

“You said you love me.”

You pause. Then nod. “I meant it.”

He touches your face. Lightly. Almost unsure.

Then pulls you in. Forehead to forehead.

“Don’t love me,” he mutters.

“Then don’t touch me,” you counter.

Yet his hands don’t leave yours.