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#opla sanji fluff
blue-jisungs · 4 months
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vanilla flavored kisses
author's note. rewatching opla made me fall for sanji even more 🫂☹️
summary. despite sanji being a professional cook, he loves your – one would say – simple yet adorable dishes
word count. 856
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while dating sanji there’s a lot of things that make you crazy about him.
for example, the way he dresses. always wearing neatly fitted suits and elegant shoes adorning his feet. (not forgetting about the blonde hair – whether slicked back or loose).
or obviously his cooking skills. there’s a saying that the way to a man’s heart is through their stomach… well, you wouldn’t fully disagree. not only did he cook delicious dishes but also will cook anything that you’re craving at the moment (and won’t say a word). panna cotta? his whipping out the whisk already. lasagna? bold of you to assume that it’s not already in the oven. even a simple pizza or spaghetti? coming right up.
and something that you really love about sanji when it comes to his physical appearance is his voice. the accent, the deepness of it… it was just leaving you mesmerized – and you were sure that sanji knew the effect his voice had on you.
your boyfriend is just perfect. he can cook, he can clean… he can fight and whilst all of that he’s sexy. but also caring, sweet gentleman.
so you had your reasons to coo about how much you love him and how perfect he is.
now sanji didn’t understand one thing – if it’s fine for you to gush over him, then why are you getting shy and refusing when he’s honestly listing your qualities?
the thing about you is that no matter what you do or say, sanji will find you adorable.
for instance, he’s a chef. he used to work in baratie, a fancy restaurant where dishes are served in an exquisite manner. even now, while being a cook for the straw hats on a ship, he would still fancy up the food or arrange it in a michelin star worthy way. even plain cereal are going to be served like its a meal worth 500 berry.
and you… you’re so simple that it’s strangely cute.
like, right now.
“wait, don’t look!” you whined and turned sanji around (more like he let you do that because no way in hell you’d be able with all of his muscles). “i’m not finished yet, baby! two more seconds, i promise”
“i’ve got all the time in the world, mon amour” he hummed, chills going down your spine.
sanji sat down at the couch and observed you.
brows furrowed, tongue sticking out in focus and fingers reaching for something in a bowl.
“and what exactly am i waiting for?” he asked, genuinely curious. just when he was about to start preparing dinner, you kicked him out of the kitchen. at first he was offended: the kitchen is his workplace after all, but then he only got intrigued.
even from the other side of the door he could smell some vanilla and almond sugar yet he decided to pretend being clueless.
“a small surprise for my chef” you grinned and finally grabbed the bowl, hissing “it’s hot!”
“be careful, please, i don’t want you to get hurt” sanji smiled and his blue eyes carefully observed you.
after grabbing a spoon and holding the bowl in a way that it wouldn’t burn you, you placed it down in front of sanji.
“ta-da!” you hummed happily, putting your hands on your hips. he leaned over and couldn’t help the corners of his lips from rising.
in front of him there stood vanilla pudding. one would say it’s literally just a pudding, nothing special.
but sanji knew that it’s more than that – it was prepared by you for him, with all of your heart and soul poured into it. so what if the sugar was burned or the consistency would left zeff questioning his existency? sanji was touched.
especially when he saw the small, pink, heart-shaped marshmallows and some purple sprinkles.
“i know it’s no mind-blowing dessert but i wanted to serve you something… y’know because usually you do the cooking” you mumbled and sat down next to him.
sanji pressed a kiss to your cheek and grabbed the spoon.
“thank you, mon amour. i really appreciate that” he said with a genuine smile. then he tried it and you nervously scanned his features. will he like it? is it even edible?
sanji’s blue eyes lit up, sparks of joy dancing in them. then he took another spoon of the yellow pudding with a marshmallow in it and turned around. his free hand tapped your chin and you opened your mouth, blush creeping into your cheeks. he guided the spoon to your lips, the other hand resting below the spoon in case anything fell.
you took a bite and scrunched your nose, which drew a bubbly laugh out of his chest.
“it’s too sweet” you mumbled and sanji just shook his head.
“just like you” he teased and put the spoon down, tucking a hair behind your ear “it’s perfect. thank you so much, mon amour”
then he cut the distance between you two, his plush lips landing on yours; the kiss expressed his gratitude too. and the sweet vanilla flavor lingering on his lips caused you to smile.
masterlist <3
taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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discodreaming · 6 months
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you're so gorgeous.
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you're so gorgeous, it makes me mad
It makes you so furious, the way Sanji made you feel every day whenever he looked into your eyes. His ocean-blue eyes could instantly make you weak in the knees, or his smile practically caused a flutter of butterflies in your stomach. You hated it – it made you so mad. 
Blackleg Sanji was so gorgeous; it made you so mad. But, you could never hate him for it – it wasn’t his fault that he was gorgeous.
It angered you so much that you couldn’t say anything to him, talk, or even be in his presence without feeling you were going to sink and drown in your feelings. 
He made you so stupidly happy and was sometimes easy to be around ( when you weren’t choking on your tongue when he simply said your name or when he smiled towards you ) it made you so mad; you wanted to kiss him so badly. You didn’t know how to tell him about these feelings, about how you wanted to be with him so badly but you couldn’t. 
You were so in love with Sanji and you were pissed you couldn’t tell him.
You are so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face.
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a/n: sanji pretty
song: you're so gorgeous - taylor swift.
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citysweet · 5 months
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一 feeding him
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♡ loosely based on ep 623
♡ no major spoilers
♡ 173 wc
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always making sure sanji eats while he serves everyone. he 's constantly stirring, adding seasoning to the pot and filling others bowls. so when he hands you yours, you make sure to stand near him.
you fill your spoon, bringing it to your lips and blowing. after taking a sip of the warm soup, a content smile on your face, you scoot next to sanji. blowing the tasty liquid, "sanji." he turns to you, a smile on his face. watching him do what he loves always made you almost happier than it made him.
"yes my love? seconds?" he asks before you lift the spoon to his lips. his face falters for a second before you move it closer. after hesitating for a moment, his lips wrap around the spoon. it's a brief moment when he swallows and smiles down at you before luffy's yelling for his third serving.
it's a simple gesture, but it means the world to him. knowing you always think of him, feeding him from your plate or bowl.
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© citysweet 12:02pm 112323
一 random thought
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revasserium · 7 months
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Okay okay hear me out Rain: reader watching Sanji cook, just sitting, waiting, maybe reading a book but catching glances at him every so often and he knows they're looking at him and just smiles....sorry I love that man
accidentally in love
opla!sanji; 2,569 words; fluff, banter so much banter, flirting, flustered!sanji, whipped!sanji, no "y/n", confessions, "sweetheart", fem!reader, straw hat"!reader
summary: in which sanji is trying to cook dinner but you're very, very distracting. or, sanji finally meets his match.
a/n: i know i said i might not write for anyone other than zoro but i lied. i guess i'm a sanji bitch now too. fuck.
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Sanji’s always liked to say that he can cook anywhere, anytime, given that he’s got something that resembles heat and a smattering of ingredients — like any great artist, he knows how to make do. But, he’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy this — the quiet of a ship’s kitchen, the gentle sway of the ocean, the simmer and pop of fat on a pan, the soft bubbling of boiling water — and you.
You, perched on the counter with your legs hanging off the side, hair piled up and pinned with a chopstick, a book in your hands or on your lap, the early afternoon sun spilling in to caress your skin like so many loving fingers. Sometimes, he’ll glance over while chopping onions or mincing garlic to catch a glimpse of you, and he’d find himself stilling, his fingers slowing, his breath suspended in his chest, caught like an insect in amber: held weightless and perfect.
“You’re staring,” you say, flipping a page without looking up, a smile twitching at your lips.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve found that admiring beautiful things helps me in my creative process,” he says, his grin going lopsided as he lowers his eyes to the ingredients on the cutting board — tiny, plump cherry tomatoes ripe to bursting. He resumes slicing each in half with swift, decisive cuts and relishes in the sound of your laughter.
“Careful with that mouth of yours — someone might accidentally fall in love with you,” you flip another page.
Sanji slides the cut tomatoes into a bowl and wipes a hand on the towel slung over his shoulder.
“Accidentally? C’mon, you gotta gimme some more credit. But if anyone’s fallin’ in love, it’s gonna be with you.”
Another page. Sanji plucks a few zucchini from a large bag and starts to julienne them into thin strips.
“What are you making?” you ask, finally setting the book down in favor of peering at all the ingredients he’s got laid out. He quirks an eyebrow, glancing up.
“What, finished with that book already?”
“Nope — just found something more interesting to look at, that’s all.”
Sanji blushes.
Let it never be said that Vinsmoke Sanji can’t take as good as he gives but by all the gods and monsters and sea kings — you’re a damn good flirt. Almost as good as he is, he used to think. Now, as he covers up his rapidly darkening cheeks with a chuckle, turning away to grab a potato for skinning, he wonders if you might just be better.
“You never answered my question, y’know.”
He looks up again, his tongue feeling strangely swollen and uncoordinated in his mouth. You’re grinning at him, your legs still swinging, but in the few seconds he’d looked away, you’ve inched closer, your outer thigh now almost pressing against the edge of his cutting board.
The first time he’d found you perched up on his long work table with a book in your lap, he’d blinked, crossed his arms, and debated on asking what on earth you thought you were doing. Chefs generally do not take kindly to their prep spaces being treated like free real estate for sitting, but he’d never been able to say no to a beautiful woman, now has he? And least of all you.
“Thought you could use the company,” was your answer to his then-unasked question. He’d laughed, nodded, and gotten on with his breakfast prep. But that was months ago and since then, it’s become something of a habit; a ritual, almost.
“What question was that? I was —” he asks, clearing his throat, his fingers almost slipping on the freshly peeled potato, “distracted by your —”
“What are you making?”
“Oh —” Sanji returns his gaze to the cutting board, now acutely aware of the smell of your skin, creamy and warm. He swallows, trying to focus on slicing the potato.
“Just a cherry tomato and zucchini noodle pasta — not often that we get such fresh produce. But Luffy’d asked if I can make chips from scratch the other day so that’s what this bad boy’s for,” he says, holding up half the potato.
“You sure one potato’s gonna be enough?” you shift your leg to cross one above the other, and Sanji has to swallow passed the thickness building up in the back of his throat at the sight of your soft, smooth thighs.
“Good point,” he says, laughing as he bends down to grab a few more.
You fall into a companionable silence, the quiet only punctuated by the tack-tack-tack of his knife on the cutting board and the occasionally shunk-thump of ingredients being swept into a metal prep bowl.
“You’re staring,” he says. And this time, it’s Sanji who grins, keeping his eyes fixed on the remainder of the herb mix he’s chopping up.
“Yeah, I know. I’m making a habit of admiring beautiful things. I’ve heard that it’s good for me.”
Heat bursts in Sanji’s chest as if he’d swallowed a shot of whiskey or gin or perhaps something even more potent. His head spins, but he steadies himself before letting out a soft, low whistle. He fights the urge to look up just to check if you’re as affected as he is.
“Keep talkin’ like that and falling in love with you’s not gonna be an accident.”
When he finally looks up to shoot you a flirty smile, he finds himself faltering as he meets your eyes.
“Who said I wanted it to be an accident?”
The knife in Sanji’s hand slips and he swears as it knicks the skin of his forefinger.
“Ah, shit —”
“Oops.” You have the decency to look sheepish as he shoots you a mildly reproachful look. But you shift your legs and tug open a drawer that had been tucked beneath where your knee had been, pulling out a small bandage.
“Come here,” you offer, reaching out as he stares at you for a second before moving forward to give you his hand. You gently wipe away the blood before pressing the bandage to the small cut, running a thumb over the edges to make sure it’s sealed.
The air hangs between you like dust motes trapped in sunlight, like first snow caught in the silvery breaths of awestruck children.
“There,” you say, the word no more than a whisper. Your hands linger over his, his skin burning where you’d touched him. Shivers skitter down the length of his spine as he gulps in a breath of air that tastes faintly of fairytale endings and happily-ever-afters.
“Thanks.”
He doesn't pull away. Neither do you.
Like this, he can count every single lash that frames your doe-wide eyes. Like this, he can feel the static thrum of electricity threatening to jump from his body to yours, and all at once, he understands why lightning always tries to reach for the closest thing to its storm-ridden skies.
Perhaps it, too, yearns for closeness — for that infinitesimal moment of connection.
He wants to reach for you.
Your lips hover a kiss’s-breadth away.
An alarm goes off.
“Oh fuck —”
He jerks away from you, the world clanging rudely back into focus as he reaches for the lid of a large pot, his heart hammering something fierce inside his ribcage. He nearly burns himself on the thick fog of steam rising from inside the pot to reveal six flat-face crabs, freshly caught that morning.
Behind him, he hears the distinct sounds of you slipping from the long work table.
“Leaving already?” he asks as he turns back around with a stab at his usual light-hearted cheek.
You lick your lips, grinning, “I feel like I’ve caused enough damage for one dinner service. If I keep hanging around, you might lose a finger next.”
“Small price to pay for the company of a beautiful woman,” but there’s a gravel and grit to his voice that wasn’t there before, and he looks away first when this time your eyes catch. He tries to busy himself with prepping the pan sauce for the crabs.
“I’ll let Nami know that the next time she wants to peek in on you cooking.”
“Hey —”
You pause at the sound of his voice just as you reach the door. You turn.
Sanji’s expression flickers between caution and anticipation as he opens his mouth, his eyes somehow sharper and darker than they usually are.
“We’re not done talking about this.”
You cock your head, “About what?”
But there’s a smile teasing at the corner of your lips and Sanji lets out a good-humored sigh.
“Alright, go. Or else I might lose more than a finger.”
Like a heart, he thinks as you close the door behind you with a soft click.
Dinner is an appetizer of cold zucchini pasta followed by a warm, tangy tomato veloute. Then come the crabs — freshly steamed over a bed of risotto and served with a lemon and rosemary pan sauce so delicious it has even Zoro sighing with satisfaction.
“Wow, special occasion?” Nami asks, looking up as Sanji comes around with a tray full of cocktails, complete with blood orange slices garnishing the lip of each glass.
“Ain’t every day a special one with this crew?” he asks, winking at Nami as she takes her drink.
Everyone laughs, but as he sets down your drink, you notice a tiny note tucked beneath the base of your glass.
You take a sip of your drink, glancing down at the note. It has three simple words written in Sanji’s unmistakable, slanted handwriting:
Kitchen — after dinner.
You tuck the note away in your pocket with a secret grin, taking another long sip of the cold, refreshing drink.
The final course is a heaping pile of home-made potato chips with garlic and cheese dip, and Luffy wastes no time in shoveling half the batch into his mouth, crunching loudly over a series of vague, animalistic hums and grunts that all seem to denote happiness.
You finish your drink and slip away under the guise of going for another.
When you get to the kitchen, it's to find Sanji already cleaning up.
“Need a hand?” you ask, setting your empty glass on the counter before lightly hoisting yourself up onto it.
Sanji shakes his head, turning off the water and wiping down his hands. He pours you another drink from a large pitcher before setting it down and pursing his lips.
“This afternoon —”
“I meant what I said —” you say, cutting him off as you look away, eyes fixed on your knees as you swing your feet away from the table’s edge, “if that’s what you’re asking.”
“Oh, yeah,” Sanji clears his throat, reaching into his pocket to grab a cigarette and a lighter, if only to keep his hands busy. The thing in his chest that he’d been so convinced was his heart for most of his life now feels very much like a ticking time bomb. Or perhaps a hand grenade, with the pin held precariously between your teeth.
One word from you and —
“So? What about you?” you ask.
Sanji sucks in a long breath of smoke, holding it in his lungs before letting it out. The familiar sting grounds him as he looks at you and wonders if you know all the things he’d do for you. All the things he’s already done.
“Me?” he asks.
“Yeah — did you mean it?” And for the first time since he’s known you, you sound uncertain, “All… all those things you said? All the things you’ve been saying?”
He takes a few steps forward, finally allowing himself to breach the delicate circle of your personal space, his free hand coming to rest on the counter next to your thigh, his palm pressing flat to keep himself from going too far, too fast.
“Three guesses,” he says, letting his eyes flicker down to your lips and linger there, “You guess right… and there might be a prize involved, hm?”
A small, knowing grin spreads across your lips even as you quirk an eyebrow.
“Three guesses to a yes or no question? C’mon, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re losing your touch.”
Sanji leans in and you can almost taste the smoke on your tongue.
“But you do know better, don’t you, sweetheart?”
You suck in a breath, reaching up to tug the cigarette from his lips.
“Yes.”
You catch a flash of his smile a second before his lips find yours. He tastes of salt and tobacco and lemon-rosemary sauce.
“That’s one,” he says as the pair of you break apart. The cigarette lies forgotten on the counter.
Somehow, his hands have found their way to the bend of your waist, settling there as naturally as the tide might settle against its favorite stretch of forgotten beach.
You smile as you reach up to tug him closer, “Yes.”
Another kiss.
Sanji notes with a satisfied grin that your cheeks are just as flushed as his feels when he pulls away this time. He nods, trailing long fingers up your side, one hand reaching up to cup your cheek, the other pressing at the small of your back.
“That’s two.”
You nudge his nose with yours and he feels his hand-grenade heart leap into his throat.
“And…” you hum, letting your head lilt to one side as you ghost your lips over his, “Hm, lemme think about this one…”
Sanji rolls his eyes, tugging you forward by the back of your neck, crushing your mouth to his. It’s more insistent this time — the kiss, the breath, his fingers, your hands — more desperate and fumbling, fueled by the ever-growing heat bubbling at the base of his spine.
“Yes —” you hiss, panting as the pair of you pull apart, your pupils blown wide and dark in the dim kitchen light.
“And that’s all three,” he says, his smile going wide with warmth, “See? You’ve got it. Knew you’d get there.”
“Did you ever doubt?”
Sanji shrugs, taking half a step back to admire the sight of you, with kiss-swollen lips and heat-flushed skin. Perfect might not be strong enough a word.
“There was a moment here or there,” he says, to which you respond with a light shove to his shoulder as you hop off the table.
“Oh, I meant to ask you — what’s for dessert?”
Sanji laughs, “What? Did my garlic-cheddar chips not satisfy?”
“Really? Chips for dessert? And here I was hoping for something sweet.”
You make to leave the kitchen but Sanji reaches forward, pulling you back all too easily, spinning you around and pinning you against the door. His eyes are soft with mirth but as he leans down, you can’t help but shiver at the promise of something more lingering beneath the smoke of his breath.
“Well then, sweetheart, I think I’ve got my dessert picked out already now, don’t I?”
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recs r technically closed, but... if you have an opla!sanji one... send it here.
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First Kiss
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Mostly fluffy stuff with the best boys. Probably PG-13 at worst.
LA Shanks X FemReader, LA Sanji X FemReader, LA Zoro X FemReader, LA Mihawk X FemReader.
First time doing the whole headcannon bullet format thing. I'm super open to suggestions for more!
Shanks
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• He and his crew came into your tavern a few hours ago. They're a pretty rowdy bunch but they're respectful and they tip well, so you don't mind.
• He's a huge flirt the whole time. Crooked little grins, his hand brushing yours whenever you bring him abother drink.
• Calling you "princess" or "sweetheart" and asking when your shift ends.
• Leaning his chair back on two legs so he can get a good look at your ass while you're making your rounds.
• Sweet-talking you into joining him for a few drinks when your shift is over.
• Getting bolder when you decide to flirt back, light touches at your waist and hips, leaning in closer to speak in a more intimate tone.
• Pulls you down by the arm to sit on his lap when you get off work and come back to his table.
• His fingers in your hair and his palm cupping your cheek to pull your face down to his so your foreheads touch.
• Another one of his crooked little grins. "Glad I could talk you into it, princess."
• No hesitation, just rubs the tips of your noses together before his lips brush yours playfully.
• Brief, playful kisses, with soft bites and tugging at your bottom lip, his tongue flicking at your top lip and coxing you to open your mouth.
• Soft little purr or murmur when the kiss gets deeper, his tongue swirling around yours.
• Breaking away very briefly to praise you in a low, playful voice, tucking your hair behind your ear. "Mmm, good girl..."
• Lets you set the pace, but keeps control over everything else.
• No concern at all that you're in public, his hand exploring your body, slipping under your skirt to squeeze your ass and pull you closer, so your legs are straddling his.
• Pushing his hips up against yours, parting his lips from yours with a devilish grin. "We're gonna have a lot of fun tonight, sweetheart."
Sanji
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• You asked him for cooking lessons as an excuse to get closer to him and he positively jumped at the opportunity.
• "I promise you're in good hands, my dear."
• Stands behind you to demonstrate cutting techniques, his voice low and intimate in your ear as he leans over you.
• Brushes your hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your neck.
• Pulls your hand up to brush his lips to it before helping you grip the knife properly.
• You didn't object to him kissing your hand, so now his lips brush your neck just below your ear.
• "You didn’t just want cooking lessons, did you?"
• Low and playful voice in your ear, pulling the knife away from your hand and lacing his fingers through yours.
• Touching your waist and pulling you gently back against him to close the distance between your bodies.
• Lifting his hand to curl it under your chin, his thumb brushing slow cirles at your cheek as he turns your head to gaze into your eyes.
• Flashes his most charming smile, his forehead touching yours.
• "All you had to do was ask, darling."
• Presses his lips gently to yours, taking the lead.
• Slow and romantic, like he's savoring every second of tasting you.
• Rubbing his hands up and down your waist slowly, breathing deeply and steadily and tugging you closer.
• Hands exploring your body, his touches and caresses gentle and loving, one hand cupping your breast through your shirt and squeezing it lightly.
• Moaning quietly against your lips in response to your moan.
• Parting his lips away with a charming smile.
• "You, my love, have just made me the happiest man in the entirety of the East Blue."
• Spins you around by your hips, lifts you up and places you on the counter beside his cutting board, your thighs spread around him as his lips meet yours again in a deeper, more passionate kiss.
Zoro
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• For a few weeks you've noticed him looking your way when he thinks you're not paying attention, but he hasn't said much of anything.
• You get tasked with waking him up from his nap at dinner time, which you don't really like doing because he can get pretty grumpy about it.
• When you reach the hammock, he cracks one eye open. You tell him that dinner is ready.
• Rubbing at his eyes. "Uh-huh...."
• Tucks a hand behind his neck, his eyes scanning over you for a moment.
• Suddenly wraps a hand around your wrist and pulls you up into the hammock with him, on top of him, startling you immensely.
• Keeps a hand tucked behind his neck, his other moving to cup your chin and pull your head down.
• Smirking a little. "I think I'll just skip to dessert."
• Tilts his head a little to capture your lips.
• Leads you into a slow, lazy kiss, his hand trailing down your back...and then back up, pushing under your shirt to graze across your bare skin.
• His rough calloused fingers and palms break you out almost immediately into goosebumps.
• Not shy about cutting straight to the chase, tugging your shirt off and tossing it aside.
• Leaves your lips to trail kisses down the column of your throat, hands moving up your waist, his fingers curling around the cups of your bra.
• A knock the door breaks your lips apart—Luffy shouting at the other side that dinner's on.
• Rolls his eyes and shouts back, "I'll eat later!"
• Looks up at you, his expression lightening into an amused grin.
• "What about you, (y/n)? You gonna go now?"
• When you shake your head no, he chuckles, his grin growing broader.
• "Yeah, I didn't think so. Now..."
• Suddenly, and with ease, he grips your hip and your waist and flips you onto your back in the hammock, reversing your positions.
• Lays one of his hands flat over your stomach, the other trailing his fingers down the side of your neck, pulling your bra strap down your shoulder.
• "Where were we?"
• And his lips crush against yours in a fierce, possessive kiss.
Mihawk
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• It's been over a month since he took you under his wing, and the sexual tension between you is so thick you could cut it with a knife.
• But he won't make a damned move, just keeps teasing at it with subtle soft touches, low and intimate words, shared gazes of desire.
• Just today when you and him made port a few hours ago, he stopped you on the docks before you went your separate ways to resupply.
• Moved in close, his yellow eyes boring into yours with their usual intensity, lowered his head until his forehead touched yours.
• Curled a hand in your hair and murmured with his lips barely an inch away from yours:
• "Be careful, my little bird."
• Dropped his gaze briefly to your lips.
• Brushed his thumb gently over your bottom lip...and then parted from you, disappearing down the crowded street.
• He is driving you absolutely insane and you aren't going to be able to hold out much longer before you just throw yourself at him.
• After resupplying you make your way toward the tavern where you agreed to meet...but you're caught from behind by your arms, a pair of strong hands wrapped around them and pulling you down a dark, empty alley.
• You're shoved against a stone wall and turned around...to face Mihawk, his hands still wrapped around your arms.
• He bores his gaze into yours again.
• Doesn't loosen his grip on your arms.
• "You aren't being vigilant. Anyone could have grabbed you."
• Takes a step closer, your bodies nearly touching.
• Lowers his head, his lips so close they brush across yours as he speaks in a low, intimate tone.
• "I'd rather not lose you, little one."
• Holds your gaze with his own for what feels like hours.
• Trails his fingers down your arms slowly, sending a shiver through your whole body.
• Lets his hands linger at your hips.
• Tightens his grip suddenly, taking a swift step forward so your body is pinned between his and the wall completely.
• In the same motion, tilts his head and crushes his lips against yours in a bruising, passionate kiss.
• Finally.
• His kiss is firm and unyeilding, slow and intense, and he has you trembling against the wall in an instant.
• Parts your lips with his tongue, sighing slowly as you meet it with your own. 
• Grabs your hands and pins them over your head in a show of pure dominance—your pleasure is completely at his whim.
• Drifts his lips across your cheek and your neck, his breath hot against your ear.
• "We will stay in town tonight. I want you in bed with me before sundown."
• Chuckles lightly when you can do nothing but nod fervently.
• "Such a good little bird."
• Kisses your neck, sucking at the tender skin and leaving behind a small bruise.
• He brushes his lips to the mark once more.
• "In case it wasn’t already clear that you belong to me."
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paperultra · 7 months
Text
hammock.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive
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“You’re blushing.”
“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”
You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.
“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.
His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”
“Not even if you hated me?”
“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”
“That’s awful.”
“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”
(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)
Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.
Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.
“Something wrong, sweetheart?”
“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”
He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”
“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”
The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.
“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”
The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.
You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.
“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”
“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”
“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”
“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”
He visibly droops. “I know.”
“Good.”
“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”
The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.
You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.
“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”
“Is that what you really want to do?”
“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)
“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.
With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.
“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”
“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”
Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."
“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”
“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”
The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.
“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”
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honnelander · 8 months
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tart
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HERE WE GO EVERYONE. the long awaited jealous!Sanji fic!! AKA a prequel to the main go fish! storyline!! this fic takes place before the main events in go fish! but after they met at the Baratie. and don't worry, part 3 for the main series will be on the way. enjoy!! request: i was wondering if you’d consider making a lil imagine/blurb about sanji being jealous of someone flirting with the reader? like imagine zoro and the reader just talking and then zoro suddenly leans closer and whispers to her “it seems we’ve got an audience” or smth like that
WARNINGS: none
word count: 3.7k
pairing: jealous opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: Sanji watches Zoro and reader talk and gets jealous. Nami tries to calm him down but fails.
go fish! series: part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @nimtano @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera
“Reading that garbage again?” a voice called out. 
At hearing the question, you glanced up from your well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice, your favorite book, only to see a calm Zoro casually stroll over to you with a hint of amusement on his face.  
You playfully rolled your eyes. “Don’t knock it till you try it, oh great sword master,” you playfully jabbed as you shook out the book to him as he leaned his back against the ship’s front railing, resting his elbows on top of it. “The almighty Zoro isn’t allergic to reading, is he?” 
Zoro snorted, glancing down at your cross-legged position on top of a crate before returning his sights to the Going Merry’s deck and the open ocean. “Yeah, I am allergic,” he agreed. “Allergic to reading that monstrosity you call a book.” 
“Ooo, ‘monstrosity’. That’s a mighty big word for a non-reader like yourself, Zoro. Good job,” you teased as you marked your page before closing the book and joining your friend in looking across the deck and out towards the ocean. 
The green-haired swordsman crossed his arms. “I read.” 
“Mmhm,” you hummed, not convinced. “Sure you do.” 
“I do,” he defended in a gruff voice. 
“Oh yeah? Here, I’ll make it easy for you: tell me about one book you’ve read.” 
Zoro scoffed. “I can tell you about way more than one.” 
You couldn’t help the surprised noise that came out of you. “Oh, yeah? ’More than one’?” you asked with a raised brow and glanced up at your fellow straw hat, trying to wipe off the grin on your face.  
You were certainly surprised that Zoro has read more than one book in his lifetime, but you weren’t surprised that he took your earlier question as a challenge. Classic Zoro, you thought in amusement. The guy could never pass up a challenge, no matter what it was about. 
So, you repositioned yourself on your crate, making yourself comfortable for the discussion ahead. “Alright, come on,” you said and sat up straighter, urging Zoro on, “let’s hear it. Tell me all about them.” 
From the back of the ship, on the upper deck above the kitchen, a certain chef took a long drag on his cigarette as he watched you and his least favorite swordsman be engrossed in conversation. Sanji removed the butt of his cigarette from his mouth with his thumb and index finger, keeping the smoke in his lungs for as long as he could, before slowly exhaling the smoke from his nostrils, his eyes never leaving the two of you. 
“Daaamn, Sanji,” Usopp drawled as he messed with the sails on the ship’s mast nearby, glancing at the chef for a second before returning to his knots. “You look like a smoking dragon. All ferocious and mean. And....extra smokey.” 
Sanji’s gaze didn’t budge, Usopp’s words not fazing the cook in the slightest. “Oh yeah? And what of it knot-boy?” he asked with a slight edge to his words, taking another drag on his cigarette and exhaling through his lips. 
At Sanji’s snarky question, Usopp recoiled and looked back at Sanji more closely with a confused expression. It was rare for Sanji to lose his cool or be in a bad mood for no reason, unless he was going back and forth in an argument with Zoro but even then, the blonde chef usually took those in stride with a smile, much to Zoro’s annoyance, so this was new. 
“Aren’t those things supossed to calm you down?” Usopp asked as he nodded to the cigarette in the cook’s hand. 
“I am calm,” Sanji rebuked a little too quickly to be true.  
Usopp then noticed how intent Sanji’s stare was towards something at the front of the ship and raised an eyebrow. Whatever he was staring at must be pissing him off because the chef’s gaze looked absolutely lethal. What the hell could be making him so mad? Usopp followed Sanji’s gaze, looked towards the front of the ship, and saw....y/n and Zoro talking? 
To Usopp, it looked like they were just having a normal conversation, but when he saw y/n laugh at something Zoro said, hitting his arm with a grin and Zoro having a slight smile, he heard Sanji scoff loudly in disgust and mutter something under his breath. 
And in that moment, it dawned on Usopp what was up, and it was hard for him to contain his shit eating grin: Sanji was jealous. Sanji was jealous of y/n and Zoro. To Usopp, it looked like a completely normal conversation between friends since he knew of y/n’s affections for the blonde cook. But to Sanji? It probably seemed like a complete flirt fest, and he was jealous. 
Up until this point Usopp had thought y/n’s crush was only one sided. Sure, he’s had his suspicions ever since Sanji seemed to stare at y/n more often than not, but Usopp was still just a guy at the end of the day, so he never considered if Sanji might actually have feelings for y/n too.  
But now? Oh boy- Usopp was all caught up to speed and he couldn’t wait to meddle in their budding relationship and tease the heck out of them both for it (when the time was right, of course).  
Usopp looked back over at Sanji and wiped off his grin as best he could. “You say somethin’ Sanji?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well the chef said absolutely nothing. “I thought I heard you mutter something.” 
Sanji flicked the ashes off his cigarette. “No.” 
“Oh. Must just be the wind then...” 
Suddenly, y/n’s laughter could be heard from the ship’s front and Sanji nearly snarled in disgust and shook his head. “What the-” Sanji started but let out an exasperated sigh. “He’s not even funny,” Sanji complained before taking another hit on his cigarette. 
Usopp couldn’t help himself, he had to poke the bear. “Who, Zoro? I think he’s funny.” 
The blonde chef let out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, funny looking.” 
He also had to twist the knife. “Well, y/n seems to think he’s funny.”  
Sanji chuckled to himself and stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating Usopp’s words. “You know what? It doesn’t matter,” he muttered and took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and immediately lighting up a fresh one. 
Unbeknown to the cook and slingshot fighter, standing underneath them and near the tangerine trees was the Going Merry’s orange-haired navigator, who had heard their whole conversation. 
------------- ----- 
“Zoro!” You laughed loudly and hit your crewmate on his bicep. “Reading books on how to dismember your opponents doesn’t count as real reading!” 
A ghost of a smile appeared on Zoro’s face as he raised an eyebrow at you. “Says you. Can you tell me fifty different ways on how to cut up a body? No? I didn’t think so.” 
“Fair enough,” you relented good naturedly with a small laugh as you shook your head. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 
A comfortable silence fell over you both as you let out a small sigh, watching the waves crash. 
After a few quiet beats, however, you felt Zoro lean into your personal space as he lowly murmured, “Don’t look now, but it seems like we have an audience.” 
You blinked in confusion as your eyebrows pulled together. “What? An audience? Where?” Completely disregarding Zoro’s instructions, you immediately started looking around the ship. “Watching what?” 
“Us,” Zoro said simply and returned to his full height. 
You shook your head in disbelief. “What? Us? Now who would be watching-” you started to say but the rest of your sentence died in your throat when you saw piercing blue eyes staring right you both. “...us?” you finished slowly.  
Sanji? Sanji was your audience? But- why? What? You were so confused. Even from this far away, you could tell something was off with him. His posture was stiff and the usual smile that adorned his features whenever he saw you was nowhere to be seen.  
“When did he get here? I didn’t know he was on deck...” you trailed off, about to move to hop off the crate and make your way over to Sanji to see what the matter with him was when something stopped you.  
Before you could hop off the crate, you saw Sanji put out his cigarette and make his way off the deck and head down into the kitchen, not sparing you another glance. As you made your way across the deck, about to follow him into the kitchen, Usopp quickly called out to you from up on the ship’s mast, asking for your help with knot tying since ‘yours were so much better than his’. You agreed with a small sigh, not wanting Usopp to struggle by himself, so you made your way to the mast and started climbing, but not before sparing the entryway to the kitchen one last glance. 
Meanwhile in the kitchen, Sanji flittered around, grabbing random ingredients he saw at first glance. Mushrooms? Grabbed. A block of cheese? Sure. Corn? Ok. Tomatoes? Sure, whatever. 
As he looked down at the growing pile of ingredients on the counter, he stopped for a second to examine the pile, putting his hands in his pockets. What the hell was he supposed to make out of this? He didn’t know. He couldn’t think straight, and it was bothering the absolute hell out of him. The kitchen had always been his sanctuary, a place where he could always rely on to decompress and escape from his thoughts as he got swept away in the act of cooking that came so naturally to him. Usually. 
But today? His natural instincts weren’t there. He felt his chef’s mind drawing up a blank on how to mix all of these items together and the longer he stood there, the more ticked off he became. On a normal day, he’d have thought up of 15 different dishes he could make and already have been busy at work making one of those ideas come to life. But now? There was nothing. No ideas swirling around in his head, nothing.  
He could feel his face twist up in irritation the longer he was standing there until finally, he let out a short, brusque sigh, muttering, “Now what the fuck am I supposed to do with all this?” 
“You’re the chef, aren’t you supposed to figure that out or something?” 
The blonde chef glanced up from the pile and saw Nami casually strolling in from the deck and up to the counter opposite of him, hands clasped behind her back, with a curious eyebrow raised.  
Instantly, to cover up his sour mood, the cook plastered on a fake smile. “Well, it seems my mind is a little blank at the moment, Darling. Why don’t you come over here and help me come up with an idea or two?” he offered with a wink, taking his hands out to lean against the counter. 
But Nami saw right through him. “I’m good, thanks,” she declined bluntly. Nami wasn’t sure when she had become the Going Merry’s pseudo-therapist, especially since this crew hadn't been together for more than 3 months at this point, but someone had to be, and she figured the only way to get Sanji to talk right now would be if he was doing something he loved: cooking. “Actually,” she started offhandedly, “I have a request for you.” 
Now that immediately got the cook’s attention. “Oh?” he asked with a raised brow, straightening up as he dropped the fake flirty persona. 
“Yeah,” she said aloud, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself that she actually had a request for the cook. From behind her back, she pulled out a couple of tangerines. With a slight smile and raised brow, she said matter-of-factly, “If I remember correctly, I believe I was told I could ask for a tangerine tart anytime I’d like?” 
A genuine smile came across Sanji’s face at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners, as he laughed with a nod. “The Madam is correct.” He took the fruits from Nami’s hands and placed them on the counter, pushing away his bizarre pile of ingredients to make room. “One tangerine tart coming right up,” he said and started bustling around the kitchen with purpose this time, pulling out the necessary ingredients, a far cry from his movements a couple of minutes ago. 
Seeing Sanji occupied, Nami took a seat at the table, sitting where she had left her charting journal and reading glasses from breakfast that morning. She opened her journal back up and put her glasses on, flipping through the pages and resuming her sketch of her latest map.  
Both of them worked in silence for a few minutes, both engrossed in their respective activities until Nami broke it. Before speaking, she snuck a glance at the chef, making sure he was preoccupied before she started prodding and sure enough, he was. Perfect. 
“You know, I never told anyone this before,” Nami started, laying the groundwork for Sanji to open up, creating a tit for tat sort of thing, “but I actually love tangerine tarts.” 
Sanji huffed slightly with a slight smile, not looking up from his work. “Oh yeah? Well, be prepared to fall in love with them all over again.” He started pouring heavy cream into a separate bowl, adding sugar before whisking it all together. “Even Zeff used to say I made a mean tangerine tart.” 
Nami hummed. “Maybe you can make Zoro fall in love with them too,” she said casually, sneaking a quick look at Sanji, only to see him press his lips together in a firm line and start to whisk the cream harder at the mention of the swordsman. “Or y/n,” she added quickly. “I don’t think she’s ever had one either.” 
At the mention of you, Sanji’s face and motions relaxed slightly. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I...think you’re right about that.” 
The orange-haired girl rotated her journal ninety degrees. She decided to prod a little harder. “I think I saw them talking earlier.” 
Sanji simply hummed in agreement, cracking eggs into a bowl, staying silent. With the third egg, however, he cracked it a little too hard on the counter, causing the raw egg contents to splatter everywhere and onto his black blazer.  
“Ah- fucking hell,” he muttered in disgust, throwing the broken eggshell into the trash before cleaning his hands off in the sink. 
Nami looked up from her work and quirked an eyebrow at her crewmate. “You good?” 
The blonde cook shook his head once with a sardonic smile. “Never better,” he quipped. 
Ok, she couldn’t do this dance anymore. Nami closed her journal and took off her glasses, looking straight at him. “Alright, you want to tell me what the hell is going on? You’re acting weird, even for you.” Sanji opened his mouth to protest but Nami spoke before he could. “And don’t lie to me.” 
Mouth still open, Sanji exhaled slowly and deflated. “I- I’m fine.” 
She rolled her eyes. “Sanji-” 
Upon hearing his name, Sanji blinked and raised his eyebrows in surprise. Nami rarely called him by his name.  
“Cut the bullshit,” she continued. “I heard your conversation with Usopp and you certainly didn’t sound ‘fine’.” 
Sanji was caught red-handed. With what exactly? He didn’t really know but he did know he was caught in a lie because he definitely did not feel fine. He shrugged his shoulders, at a loss for words. “I...” he sighed and took off his ruined blazer, draping it over the back of an empty chair, rolling up his sleeves as he avoided Nami’s expectant stare. He grabbed a dirty rag and started cleaning the egg off the counter. “I don’t know...” 
“Sanji, you can barely crack an egg.” 
That brought out a short bark of laughter from the chef. “Yeah,” he relented. “Obviously.” 
“Is this because of your jealously over y/n and Zoro?” 
“My- my what? My jealously?” he sputtered and scoffed, still not looking Nami in the eye. “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why on earth would I be jealous over that stick in the mud?” 
“Oh, I don’t know,” Nami played along, tapping her temple, pretending she was deep in thought. “Maybe because you saw and heard them laughing from all the way across the ship?” she pointed out. When Sanji tried to wave off her accusations with an unconvincing smile, Nami decided to just go in for the kill. If Sanji wasn’t going to admit his obvious liking towards her female crewmate and friend himself, then she’d have to do it for him. “Maybe....maybe because you might have a little crush on y/n?” she offered with a raised brow, staring right at him. 
“Wh-what?? A crush?” Sanji quickly rebuked, jerking his head back. “What are we? Little kids?” 
From her spot at the table, Nami could swear she saw a faint dusting of pink appear on his cheeks. She smirked to herself. She got him. “Well,” she shrugged, “it doesn’t matter how old we get, we all get crushes from time to time.” 
You? A crush? Sanji shook his head as he resumed making the tangerine tart. Labeling whatever feelings he had for you as simply a ‘juvenile crush’ didn’t feel right to him. You were more than that, and you didn’t deserve to be labeled as such. “No, she’s not a crush.” 
“Oh, so you like-like her?” Nami said like it was obvious. “You like her as more than just a friend.” 
“I-” Sanji started but stopped himself and sighed, feeling his irritation grow the longer this conversation went on. Now even the kitchen wasn’t bringing him peace? First, smoking and now this? What was next? “Why does it matter? All of a sudden, my love life is interesting to you and up for debate? I don’t remember asking for your opinion.” 
Nami watched his jaw tense and his body become stiff as he started zesting the tangerines. Clearly whatever feelings Sanji was dealing with, he wasn’t ready to openly talk about them, so she decided to back off.
She put her hands up in surrender, slumping back in her chair as she said, “Hey, I’m...I’m sorry. You’re right.” Deciding to give the chef his space, she gathered her belongings and stood up, making her way to the counter. “If you ever need to...talk or anything, I’m here,” she offered quietly. In a normal tone, she added, “Let me know when the tarts are ready. I really do want y/n and Zoro to try one.” 
Speaking of the devil, you came into the kitchen from the deck, eyes lighting up at the sight of Sanji cooking. Seeing Sanji cook was one of your favorite things and you always loved to guess what he was making. “Sanji! Ooo, what are you making?” 
Nami watched as Sanji’s whole demeanor change at the sight of you, like a switch being flipped on. She couldn’t help but smile knowingly between you both. “I’ll be in my room,” she announced before making her way out of the kitchen, leaving you both alone. 
Sanji had a wide smile, shoulders relaxing as his eyes lit up. “Why don’t you guess? Give it your best shot.” 
“Oh! I love this game. Ok, let’s see,” you said as you surveyed the ingredients laid out before you. “I see flour, sugar, butter and tangerines...are you making a tangerine cake or something?” 
Whatever jealousy or anger he had been feeling all day just instantly disappeared once he was with you. He felt like himself again, all carefree and lighthearted as he chuckled at your guess. “Not quite, Missus. But nice try,” he said as he looked into your eyes with a crooked smile. 
Missus. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and you felt your insides became all warm. You hoped your face didn’t give away your swooning. He's never called you that before and you hoped to God that he would never stop. 
“Ah, my bad,” you laughed embarrassedly. “What are you making then?” 
“I, am making a tangerine tart,” he proudly stated as he grabbed another egg, perfectly cracking it this time. “At the request of the ship’s navigator.” 
A wide grin broke out across your face. “No way!!” you squealed eagerly, causing Sanji to laugh. “I’ve always wanted to try one!”  
The blonde chef nodded. “Yes, she did mention that actually.” After a beat, he added, “I hope you like it.” 
“Of course I will,” you said without hesitation. “I know I haven’t known you for that long, but it seems like everything you make is phenomenal. You’re the best cook I know.” 
Normally, nearly everyone compliments his cooking (except for Zoro) and he never really thought anything of it. He knew was the best cook in the East Blue and someday, the whole world when he found the All Blue. But hearing that compliment from you? How you said it so easily and with such certainty? He felt a funny, warm feeling deep within his chest and when he looked at you, just like how you knew for certain that he was the best chef around, he knew right then that you really were the most beautiful woman he’s ever known. 
So, yeah. Nami was right. He guessed he did have a little crush on you, or ‘like-liked’ you- whatever she was saying.  
“Do you mind if I watch?” 
Your question broke the little staring trance he was in, blinking and tearing his gaze away from you as he tried to refocus on the task before him. He truly had to make sure this was the best tart he’s ever made. 
He nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. God, he was probably acting like an excited puppy, but he couldn’t help himself. “Of course you can,” he agreed with a small smile. 
As you pulled up a stool to sit on the opposite side of the counter, Sanji realized something: him cooking in the kitchen with you sitting nearby? That’s something he could get used to and get used to very quickly. 
6K notes · View notes
luxthestrange · 8 months
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OP Incorrect quotes#4 Shopping day
The Strawhats resting on an island to restock
Y/n: I will find us a map to move around this city
Y/n: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone!
Zoro*Rolls eyes* Oh, please, We're not children
Sanji*Smilling at you* Oh my darling, I will wait for you for a thousand years~
Y/n*Leaves the two alone*
Zoro:, casually: ...Eat shit and die
Sanji, also casually: Yes, fuck you
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2K notes · View notes
blue-jisungs · 3 months
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Helloo first of all merry christmas and happy early new year (or whatever holidays you celebrate)!!!! I don't know if your OPLA requests are still open, but i would absolutely LOVE a stabilished relationship sanji x (gn) reader where reader is kind of an ambivert who tends to be embarassed to speak their mind when they're uncomfy or when they need something, so sanji always keeps an eye on them to check if they're okay. Sort of like a couple who has their own language that no one else understands, just reallyyyy fluffy stuff
If you don't feel like writing it it's totally okay!!! Have a nice day<3
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author's note. hi anonnie!! sorry for such a late reply <\3 i don’t celebrate but thank u hehe i hope u had a nice time too ^^ to be honest i’m not really happy with how this turned out but i couldn’t think of anything else :( either way, i hope you enjoy it even a little bit :D
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it was no secret that you have the tendency to get shy, especially when asking for something. it’s been always a struggle of yours, more often than not ending up in a position you didn’t want to find yourself in simply because you failed to ask for something… or deny.
which you were fine with, technically. sure, no one enjoys being in uncomfortable situations but you got used to it.
however, dating sanji was a turning point in your life. previously, your family and strangers would ignore your needs or just assume that if you didn’t deny anything, you were fine with it. this bad habit of yours took sanji a while to crack.
just like when you turned in the baratie for the first time with a friend of yours.
“anything else, pretty?” the handsome (your future to be boyfriend, not like you knew) blonde man asked with a charming smile. your friend shook jer head while you blinked. sanji used this opportunity to persuade you into ordering more “may i offer something?”
you were absolutely full, no more space in your stomach whatsoever. it was sure you wouldn’t fit more but–
“maybe dessert? such a sweet person deserves a tiramisu to end their day” sanji’s pearly whites glinted in a warm smile. and you nodded shyly, almost awkwardly.
he didn’t pay attention to it then but at the end of the day, laying down before sleep… his memory recalled the resistance in your eyes but a fake smile of acceptance.
since you dined at baratie quite often (yes, he was one of the reasons) sanji started to recognize your habits. that you ordered even if you were full or didn’t like a certain dish… and how you sometimes even forced yourself to eat it because you didn’t want him or the cooks to feel bad.
which made his heart clench – both with worry and because of how cute you are.
with him being your boyfriend and lots of free time on the going merry, which you joined because you two couldn’t stand the possibility of being far away from each other and luffy not minding at all (“the more the merrier”, he said), sanji promised himself to work on it. for your own good because he hated the fact that some people could get advantage of you.
like usopp.
“hiyaaaa y/n! would you mind cleaning the crow’s nest for me?” usopp asked, the usual wide grin adorning his face. you blinked, embarrassed to deny yet…
“wh… um…” you started and the great captain put the broom in your hands, patting your arm
“thanks! i’m sooo tired, you know?” he stretched dramatically, eyes closing. you had plans – you were supposed to help sanji in making dinner… but now…
“they’re not cleaning anything, usppp”
the boy’s eyes shot open and he jolted upon hearing sanji’s voice. the cook didn’t look so friendly – arms crossed, cold look in his ocean eyes.
“oh yeah, right! no problem… it was a joke you see!” usopp chuckled nervously and took the broom back.
“joke my ass. do not use them like that or next time the broom is getting shoved–”
“woah, woah, woah… i got the message” usopp squeaked and ran away to the crow’s nest. you pouted.
“sorry…” a sigh escaped your lips and sanji stepped closer, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear.
“no, no. don’t apologize, there’s no need. but we need to work on that, darling” he smiled tenderly and pecked your forehead.
one day after telling sanji that you’re just too embarrassed to say no or speak your mind, he came up with an idea – that you have a secret code. obviously if you were too shy, you’d just tap him or wink twice. at first, you thought it was silly. but sooner than you imagined, you came to a conclusion that it’s a pretty brilliant idea.
additionally, even if you didn’t know about that, your boyfriend always kept his eye on you. scanning your face and reactions so he could barge in anytime; as creepy as it sounded because of that sanji knew you like the back of your hand and sometimes even without using words, he knew that you were uncomfortable.
“so, so, so! we should head out! there’s no time to lose!” luffy announced on a random monday morning, almost jumping off the walls “we’re going to y/n’s family island!”
your eyes widened as you watched the captain terrified, sanji instantly tensing.
“w… what? why?” you stuttered and luffy stopped in his tracks.
“it’s famous for its sewing arts, right? we need new clothes… and it’s gonna be fun! we’ll meet your family!” luffy grinned.
you felt sanji’s hand on yours, tapping your thumb twice. “are you okay?”, that’s what the gesture meant. you looked at him, hesitantly shaking your head.
“d-…” you didn’t even manage to choke out, puffing your cheeks.
“do we have to? we can get clothes everywhere” the blonde asked, moving his thumb in a soothing motion. sanji asked exactly what you wanted to. maintaining eye contact, he nodded. “i’ve got this”
“but y/n’s family…” luffy whined, pouting.
“y/n should speak for herself on this matter, luffy. maybe she doesn’t want to see them?” sanji hummed.
luffy has a golden heart and pure soul but sometimes could get a bit too much… and doesn’t understand some human reactions. and it’s not like you hated your family – you just left in a hurry, a tense atmosphere in the household. and you just weren’t ready to return.
“so?” luffy asked, rising his eyebrows. sanji squeezed your hand, encouraging you.
“i don’t really want to… see them. right now.” you mumbled shyly “sorr–”
“no, no. don’t say sorry, i just… wanted to surprise you” luffy smiled, his eyes twinkling. he came up to you and patted your head “we’ll go there once you’re ready. just tell me!”
nodding shyly, you watched luffy leave. sanji grinned and cupped your face.
“what? was it bad?” you asked, blinking.
“no, darling. you were very brave” he cooed and placed a soft kiss on your lips “i’m proud”
then sanji moved his hand to your back and drummed a melody, signalling that usopp is coming. you snickered and pecked his cheek, being met with a loud whine coming from the boy who just entered the room.
masterlist <3
taglist. @eternalgyu ,, @haecien
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zorobff · 6 months
Text
little by little. (opla!sanji x fem!reader)
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synopsis: a series of events that transpire throughout your time mentoring sanji into a proper waiter, per zeff’s request.
word count: 5.3k
warnings: cursing, smoking, some direct dialogue from opla, zoro wants u but he can’t have uuu, a pitiful attempt at enemies to lovers, this is the plate technique i was referencing btw
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the slicing, stirring, and sizzling of the kitchen fades into background noise compared to the two thick accents bickering back and forth. to no one’s surprise, a disagreement between sanji and zeff’s has escalated into another one of their infamous arguments. it was such a common occurrence that almost everyone working at the baratie knew to brace themselves for a yelling match at least once day.
you’re no different as you return to the kitchen from waiting tables and walk right past the pair without so much as a glance their way. instead, you make a beeline for patty’s cooking station. unamused, you ask, “they’re back at it again?”
patty slings a towel over his shoulder as he hands you table 7’s orders. “i told sanji not to put that original dish of his on the menu. he called it a true bluefin whatever the hell.”
“sounds promising,” you joke, collecting the plates from him.
“tell that to zeff,” he replies flatly. “he might even make it tomorrow’s special.”
“dammit zeff!” sanji exclaims, interrupting you and patty’s conversation. “if i gotta sling one more prime rib medium-well, i’m going to drop dead of boredom, you old shitbag!”
“it’s what we serve,” retaliates the older chef.
“it’s an insult to the meat!”
“oh, you don’t like cooking our menu? fine. ‘cause i’ll be more than delighted to give you some other work elsewhere. in fact, you are off the line. you’re going to get out there and wait tables!”
sanji’s jaw clenches at having been demoted but he removes his chef apron regardless. as often as the two of them bickered, he could never refuse such direct orders from zeff. he was the owner and founder of baratie — that was something to be respected.
all of a sudden, zeff calls your name, causing you to abruptly set down the dishes in your hands. what did you have to do with any of this? the older chef beckons you closer with a curled finger and it seems as if every pair of eyes in the kitchen shifts to you. except for sanji’s, who is too busy staring up at the ceiling as if he’s begging a higher power for self-restraint.
it’s ironic how after putting so much effort into being the best waitress possible, you end up in the middle of confrontation – something you went out of your way to avoid. still, your body reacts faster than your brain and you comply, scurrying over to where zeff and sanji stand.
“from here on out, you keep a close eye on him for me.” zeff clasps a large hand on sanji’s shoulder with such force that it sends the younger jolting forward. “i don’t wanna catch him slithering his way back into the kitchen unless it’s to grab orders, ya got it?”
you blink. “yes, chef.”
your response earns you a tight-lipped smile, a rarely seen gesture from zeff. as suddenly as it appeared, it’s gone, replaced by a hardened gaze as he turns back to sanji. “if we’re lucky enough, some of your obedience might rub off on this little eggplant.”
the comment earns him an eye roll from the waiter in question, who seems less than thrilled with this new arrangement. “this is such bullshit, old man. you really think she can teach me anything?”
you go to defend yourself, slightly offended by his offhand comment. “hey, i—”
before you can get another word out, sanji interjects, offering you a glance. “no offense, i’m sure you’re lovely—” the moment he takes a good look at you, he trails off. it’s almost comical how quickly his demeanor changes, that signature smirk of his creeping onto his lips. “with an even lovelier face to match.”
you narrow your eyes at him, not charmed by the sudden switch in attitude. “you’re shameless.”
he smiles. “so i’ve been told.”
“we’ll need to work on that.”
his grin widens, if that was even possible. “i look forward to it.”
his smile is a little too mischievous for your liking; you sigh. “can’t say the same.”
ignoring your remark, he muses, “you know, it’s a shame that working under you is supposed to be a punishment. a pretty face like yours is more of a reward, if you ask me.”
“who said anything about a punishment?”
“well, what else would you call this?” he chuckles dryly. “instead of cooking, i’m expected to wait on idiots who can’t tell a rosé prosecco from a cheval blanc. and now i’m being treated like i need a babysitter.”
you fold your arms. “that’s because you do need a babysitter. besides, zeff calls the shots so there’s no use complaining.”
“of course you’d say that.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
he smirks. “i can already tell you’re a professional rule follower. a lap dog, if you will.”
“if you were too, we wouldn’t even be here.” you decide to take it even further, returning his bluntness. “maybe it’d be easier if that ego of yours wasn’t so inflated.”
“damn.” he places a hand over his heart as if you’ve wounded him. “if we’re talking about flaws, though, this might be a good time to mention the stick up your ass.”
“what? i don’t–” you take a deep breath. “listen, zeff is counting on me to turn you into a functional waiter. that means we have to tolerate each other for the time being. the sooner we do that, the sooner we go our separate ways. got it?”
he flashes you his teeth. “yes, ma’am.”
“great. to start, you’re going to wait tables with me.” with that, you walk back to patty’s station.
sanji scampers behind you, smile fading. “you’re joking.”
you shrug, opting to let your silence answer for you.
he continues, “you’re not even going to let me suffer through this alone? i’ve gotta be glued to your hip as well?”
“what’s the matter? i thought i was lovely,” you tease him, feigning sorrow. your faux pout contradicts the way you harshly shove two steaming plates his way.
“not when you’re bossing me around.” he hesitantly takes the dishes you hand him. “i mean, can’t you just let me off the hook? i’ll hide in the supply closet ‘til our shift’s over.”
“good one.”
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WEEK ONE.
“welcome to baratie, i’ll be your waitress this afternoon. what can i get started for you?” you ask, ready to jot down the table’s orders on your notepad. “i recommend today’s special—”
an arm digging into your ribs cuts you off. the action is forceful enough to jolt you but light enough not to hurt. you glare at the culprit, who tilts his head expectantly as if to ask, aren’t you forgetting something?
“oh, how unprofessional of me,” you deadpan. “this is sanji, he’ll be accompanying me. we’re training new hires.”
the smile on his face disappears, clearly insulted at being compared to an inexperienced beginner.
you continue, “as i was saying, today’s special is a beef filet with rice and seaweed soup. it was chosen by chef zeff himself.”
that seems to pique the customers’ interests. who didn’t want to eat a meal that had the chef zeff’s stamp of approval? they enthusiastically agree to add it to their order.
sanji scoffs. “that’s not sayin’ much. zeff wouldn’t know a good meal if it kicked him in the peg leg.”
you find yourself cringing as the patrons’ faces contort into shock at the blatant insult. well, there goes your tip.
chuckling nervously, you attempt to redirect the conversation. “can i, um, get you anything to drink?”
dismissing sanji’s outburst, they opt to look over the various wines the menu has to offer. you allow yourself to tune out their indecisive murmuring for the time being. however, sanji soon breaks the peaceful silence.
“you know what, how about i whip up a dish of my own for you two? ’s called a true bluefin sauté, somethin’ that’ll put today’s special to shame. free of charge, of course—”
“okay, that’s enough,” you intervene in between yet another forced laugh. “could you please excuse us for a moment?”
the guests’ irritated expressions fill you with shame — you were used to smiles and hefty tips but never this. you pull sanji aside, ignoring his complaints about the excessive force you use to do so.
“you need to get it together,” you seethe.
“i’m trying my best,” he replies, though there’s a smug undertone to it. “like you said, i am just a new hire.”
you suppress a sigh. “no new hire would badmouth the owner to customers like that. or offer to make dishes that aren’t—and never will be—on the menu.”
“ouch, that was personal—”
“just let patty know we need two specials. and tell him to make it top priority, we don’t want to piss these people off even more. can you do that, please?”
it was clear you were stressed by the mess he’d created, if your pleading tone was anything to go by. sanji decides to take pity on you. he wordlessly retreats to the kitchen to do what you had asked. no quips, no teasing.
for the first time, he follows your instructions.
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WEEK TWO.
it seemed as if everyone in the east blue was set on having their breakfast at the baratie.
the kitchen was bustling, cooks slaving over the stove and waiters twisting past each other to grab orders. among them was you, sweaty and thoroughly overwhelmed. despite the task at hand, you can’t help but question the whereabouts of a certain blonde.
“where’s sanji?” you demand while grabbing more steaming plates.
carne, the chef who’d cooked the meals, answers you. “haven’t seen him all morning.”
you groan, using your sleeve to wipe off the beads of perspiration that form at your hairline before grabbing a bowl of oatmeal and plate of fluffy belgian waffles. you knew sanji still wasn’t happy about being a waiter (and he took every chance to show it) but that didn’t matter; it was all hands on deck this morning.
you continue expertly stacking the dishes into your arms and hands. it was a technique you’d learned over the years and now it felt like second nature. soon enough, you’re balancing plates up to your forearms. you’re just about to head back out to the dining hall when you hear a familiar accent behind you.
“we doin’ party tricks now or what?”
startled, you turn around so fast it causes the dishware in your hold to teeter ever so slightly. there stands sanji, clearly finding amusement in how you’re up to your elbows in breakfast foods.
“maybe don’t sneak up on me when i’m holding six plates?” you chastise him.
he chuckles. “sorry, sorry. what did i miss?”
“only the worst breakfast rush i’ve ever seen. where have you been?”
“i was takin’ a smoke outside.”
“productive.” your tone drips with sarcasm. “we’ll talk about punctuality later, for now just take the rest of those plates for me.”
sanji reluctantly obeys, grabbing two plates from the multitude of options and steps back, ready to follow you. you look at him in what could only be described as utter disbelief. he returns the stare and furrows his eyebrows as if he really can’t understand what he’s doing wrong.
“you’re seriously only taking two?” you ask.
“yeah? what, were you expecting me to join your balancing act?”
“it would help!”
“trust me, i’d only make a bigger mess.”
“sanji.”
“fine! show me.”
you squint your eyes at him in irritation. “my hands are a little full right now.”
he purses his lips. “then just tell me how.”
you comply. “get your first plate, put it between your thumb and the edge of your pointer finger. make sure to rotate it away from your body.”
sanji follows your directions, attentively. he glances up at you once he completes the first couple steps, scanning your face for any disapproval. you give him a nod.
“so far so good. next, put your second plate under the first. use your remaining fingers to support it– yeah, just like that. and let the edge of the plate rest on the bottom of the first.”
as sanji carefully carries out your instructions, you notice the determination written on his face. you’d never seen him put so much effort in a task, much less one you’d given him. you could tell it was challenging, judging by the way his hands wobble with uncertainty as he stacks the plates, but not once does he stop. it’s admirable. you feel a smile form on your face.
“okay, what n— what’re you laughin’ at?”
“i’m not laughing,” you defend. “it’s just– you’re really trying. it’s nice. i like this sanji.”
he opens his mouth as if to respond but decides not to at the last moment. there’s a brief silence before he raises his eyebrows to signal he was ready for the next step.
“right. um, the third plate uses your arm and the edge of the second plate as balance points so you’re gonna wanna put it– yeah, right there.”
you take in the sight of all three plates successfully resting on sanji’s arm as one of his trademark grins appears on his lips. clearly he’s proud of himself but as his wide eyes meet yours, you can’t help but feel as if he’s seeking your approval too. you notice that when he glances up at you, there’s an eager look in his eyes as if he’s hanging on to your every breath. you figure it’s normal for someone to want their mentor’s praise, right?
you willingly deliver the encouragement. “you’re a natural. better than me.”
his reply comes so quickly it almost seems as if he’s said it without thinking. “well, that’s not possible, is it?”
his tone sounds warm; sincere. not to mention, this is the first time sanji has complimented your skills as a waitress. you’d received countless praises for your work ethic but somehow, something so simple from someone like sanji makes this different. special, in a way.
“let’s get to the table, food’s gonna get cold,” you say so that you don’t spend too much time replaying his words in your mind.
the journey to said table proves to be more arduous than you’d think. you offer quiet ‘excuse me’s that can hardly be heard over the commotion of the kitchen as your coworkers try their best to make way for you and sanji. some of their eyes linger on the plates that masterfully balance on both your arms but truthfully, the sight of sanji exerting so much effort into waiting tables is more impressive to them. it’s distracting enough to send one of them to colliding straight into you.
your first instinct is to try and salvage as many dishes as possible but it’s useless when the impact is so strong that it sends you stumbling backwards. the only reason you don’t fall over is the firm chest that presses against your back and the two pairs of strong arms that find their way around your waist. the ear-splitting sound of yours and sanji’s plates shattering against the floor is unpleasant and yet all you can think about is how sanji literally dropped everything to catch you.
the waiter you’d crashed into groans, looking down at the mess of broken dishware and food gone to waste. “god, look where you’re going if you’re gonna carry all those plates.”
“i’m sorry,” you instantly apologize, flustered by the rare mistake. “i was just trying to get ahead of the rush–”
“instead, you set us back further.” his eyes flit down to his shirt and then yours. “and ruined both our uniforms.”
the abruptness of your mishap (and your skinship with sanji) had robbed all your attention, causing you to overlook the various creams and sauces that now bleed into your shirt.
“watch it,” sanji warns him, finding the man’s aggressive tone intolerable. “if you worked half as hard as she is then maybe there wouldn’t be such a need to catch up on orders.”
your coworker fixes sanji with a glare for intervening. “i’m not talking to you, pal.”
“well, i’m talking to you. and i’m thinkin’ of taking this discussion outside if you don’t apologize for being a jackass.”
that earns him an irritated sigh. however, he complies. “i’m sorry. can i get back to work now?”
sanji remains unimpressed. “don’t apologize to me. apologize to her.”
he doesn’t even try to hide his eye roll before he gives you a lackadaisical apology. “i’m sorry, alright? tell your boyfriend to back off.”
he stomps away, leaving you even more rattled up by his last comment. slowly, you turn around to sanji, unsure of what to say. you take in the stains that litter his suit, though he seems unbothered by it. his stare is heated as he watches the man leave. however, when he notices you staring, his gaze softens.
“what was his problem?” he asks you with a chuckle that sounds out of place in a moment like this.
in any other situation you’d poke fun at sanji for also having gotten worked up but you choose not to. him getting so angry on your behalf felt… strange. not unwelcome, though.
your reply is simple. “y-yeah. real asshole.”
he lifts a brow. “you okay?”
you nod a little too hard. “i’m just not used to situations like that. thanks for stepping in. and, you know, catching me.”
sanji glances away when your look of pure gratitude becomes too much for him to handle. “i couldn’t have you eat shit and be out of commission, zeff just might decide to mentor me himself. and no one wants that, right?”
you can’t help but laugh at the dismissive demeanor he was putting on when he’d literally just threatened a man for you. “right.”
he clears his throat. “let’s go get cleaned up then.”
“sorry,” you blurt. “about your suit, i mean. it’s all dirty now.”
he shakes his head. “wasn’t your fault. if anything, i should go force an apology out of that jerk.”
“well, while you do that i’m gonna clean this mess up.”
“no need.” he shoots you a sly wink. “i’ll make him do that too.”
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WEEK THREE.
you find yourself clearing off an empty table on a somewhat slow thursday afternoon when the baratie’s newest guests catch your eye. they look nothing like the stuffy moneybags that frequented the establishment – far from it. in fact, you find yourself having to do a double take when you notice that one of them is wearing overalls. it’s refreshing, you think, occasionally glancing up at them as they settle in.
when you head back to the kitchen to grab menus, you bump into sanji, who’d arrived from his break.
you glance at the clock on the wall. “was that actually only ten minutes? i’m impressed.”
sanji exhales as he does every time he feels sheepish about following the rules. “don’t get used to it.”
you disregard his comment and instead hand him a couple menus. “come on, we’ve got a table.”
he frowns. “i just got back.”
“you’ll live. i think it’ll be a interesting one.”
that was an understatement.
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“welcome to baratie. my name is sanji. what can i get for you?”
sanji’s customer service voice never fails to amuse you. it sounds too forced, too sharp; as if he’s just dying to spew a one-liner or two. you have to admit, though, he’d done pretty well ever since you started letting him take the lead. there was a clear improvement from when you’d first started, a little over two weeks ago.
“one of everything!” the one with the straw hat enthusiastically exclaims.
another, more feminine, voice joins the conversation. “maybe save that for after we find the one piece.”
there’s a brief pause before sanji speaks again, this time in a tone you know all too well. “didn’t see you there, madam. would you care for an aperitif to start? we have several rare micqueot vintages in stock. or perhaps you’d like a glass of umeshu? you know, something sweet for someone sweet.” he ends with a wink.
she cringes. “is there something wrong with your eye?”
you can hear sanji’s smile in his reply. “just blinded by your beauty.”
out of all of sanji’s antics, this somehow feels like the worst one yet. you’re not entirely sure why him blatantly flirting with the woman feels so unbearable but you decide to chalk it up to your professionalism. if any of your fellow waiters flirted with a customer you’d be just as upset… right?
“zeff told me he doesn’t like you terrorizing the female patrons with your flirting so why don’t you knock it off?” you tell sanji, your words carrying an unusual edge to them. “you’re one shitty pick-up line away from a restraining order.”
although you mumble the last part, both sanji and the table seem to pick up on it. your bitterness earns you a surprised tilt of the head from the blonde; it wasn’t like you to have such outbursts, especially not in front of guests.
“relax,” he says, still taken aback. “it’s called working the table. you should try it sometime ‘cause that attitude isn’t gonna get you anywhere.”
a monotonous voice cuts through the tension. “so about those drinks...”
you and sanji pause your discussion to get a look at the face behind the remark. lidded eyes that appear to be permanently hazy return your stare, through lashes so long you can’t help but admire them. the man who they belong to is comfortably splayed out on his side of the booth, calmly observing the two of you. though, it seems like you’ve caught his attention more than anything else. though his gaze seems uninterested, he still effectively studies every inch of you.
sanji seems to pick up the stranger’s staring problem too. he sharply inquires, “is there something on her face?”
the man turns to him once he’s finished sizing you up. “i’m just an observant guy.”
“observe the menu instead, hm?” suddenly, sanji’s tone sounds a lot like yours; irritated and displeased.
“no need.” the green-haired swordsman turns to you. “a beer, please.”
you hold the male’s gaze for a second before nodding. apparently, the eye contact is too prolonged for sanji’s taste because he cuts in, attempting to move things along.
“what about you, madam? anything i can get for you?” you notice he’s using that voice again.
her answer is plain. “water.”
somehow, he manages to complicate it. “still, sparkling, mineral? with ice or without? cubed or crushed?”
“regular water in a regular glass. thanks.”
he beams. “right away.”
“and what about the rest of you?” you ask to impede sanji from asking the woman any more questions.
“two beers,” the one with dark skin says. “i usually have three but–”
“and a milk!” the straw hat adds.
“got it. anything else before we go get those drinks for you?”
a raspy voice speaks up. “do waiters usually come in pairs here?”
you shake your head. “this is a temporary arrangement. he just needed some extra training.”
“that depends on who you ask,” sanji clarifies before narrowing his eyes at the man on the left of the booth. “why do you care anyway, mosshead?”
before you can scold sanji for giving customers rude nicknames, the customer in question swiftly corrects him. “the name’s zoro. i was just curious as to why such a good waiter would be partnered with someone so… incompetent.”
“curious?” scoffs the woman to his left. “since when are you ever curious? about anything other than alcohol, that is.”
“certain things catch my attention once in a while, nami,” he replies, nonchalantly. though he mentions his colleague by name, it’s clear he’s really speaking to you. “it’s just not often that my standards can be met. but when they are, i’m left with no choice but to show a little interest.”
your head tilts at the double meaning his comment carried. though you admire zoro’s ability to be a smooth-talker, you find that that’s where his appeal ends for you.
“high standards, hm? then you’re dining at the wrong place,” spits sanji in an attempt to get zoro’s attention off of you. “only thing that isn’t shitty is the drinks which we’ll be getting for you now, if you’ll excuse us.”
sanji hooks an arm around your shoulder before he spins on his heel and leads you both back to the kitchen. you look over your shoulder, offering the table one of your customer service smiles as an apology for your abrupt exit. sanji’s strides are long and purposeful; he’s angry, you realize. although, you can’t blame him for having such a sour attitude when you yourself aren’t too thrilled either.
you don’t speak to each other for the rest of the shift.
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“you smiled at him.”
you sigh, setting your book face down to glare at sanji who stands in the doorway of the quaint breakroom. “i’m on my break, sanji.”
“so am i,” he retaliates, pulling a stick out of the worn-down cigarette box in his pocket as if to prove it to you.
“so it’s not enough that i’m stuck babysitting you when we’re on the clock? you’re gonna start seeking me out in our free time too?”
he purses his lips. “pretty much.”
his stubbornness is unsurprising but you just aren’t in the mood to tolerate it today, not when he’d worked your nerves earlier with his flirtatious behavior. deep down, you know you only have yourself to blame for getting so unreasonably angered by that. maybe that’s what upsets you most.
you sigh. “just tell me what you want.”
“i want to know why you smiled at that asshole.”
“asshole?” you repeat, laughing. “i know you have a potty mouth but god, take it easy.”
he licks his lips. “see, now you’re defending him. what for? do you know him or something?”
“do i have to?”
“no, but... it would be nice if you did. it would help me understand why he was talkin’ to you like that. all flirty but secretive at the same time. it was like you two had some sort of inside joke.”
“so a man being interested in me is so unfathomable to you that i have to know him or else it’s a joke?” you ask, tone heated.
“no, that’s not–” he groans. “i didn’t mean it like that.”
“what about you and that girl? nami, was it?” you sneer. “if zoro’s considered flirty then i don’t think there’s a word for what you are.”
“you’re mad at me for trying to earn a tip?” he asks, squinting his eyes at you. “you told me to be nicer to customers. i was being nice.”
“you were really selling it,” you scoff.
“don’t believe me?” sanji challenges you. “have you ever seen me flirt with a girl that’s not a customer? a girl that’s not you?”
the words tumble out of his mouth haphazardly, as if they’d been weighing heavy on his mind for a while now. as an attempt to recover — an attempt to make it seem like that admission didn’t mean something, he calmly lights the end of his cigarette. he then brings it to his chapped lips and takes a long drag.
you take the moment to really think about what he’d said. sanji was charming by nature and, of course, he knew that. not only that, but he used it to his advantage. people tended to tip better when he was laying it on thick, that much was true.
however, his second question takes a lot more thought. now that you really think about it, you realize he’s right. you’d never seen sanji flirt with another waiter or member of the staff. you were the only waitress he spoke to that way. the realization makes you feel warm in the face.
“i don’t just flirt with you, you know. i do so much more. remember that plate trick you taught me? i practiced for nights on end ‘til i could do it with my eyes closed. and i don’t tell customers how brainless they sound half the time because i know you don’t like it.”
you only watch as he paces back and forth, rattling off these thoughts that have clearly been plaguing him.
“you still never flirt back, though,” he continues, quietly. “lately i’ve been starting to think that you don’t actually like me at all. that’s the only reason i was being like that at the table. i knew i was only kiddin’ myself but still, i wanted to see if there was a small chance you cared.”
“i…” it’s all you can say. seeing this raw, insecure side of him has left you truly speechless.
he fiddles his cig between his fingers. “listen, i wouldn’t blame you if—”
you finally find your voice. “i like you.”
his voice trails off, engrossed in every word you speak. it’s a simple three words and yet he’s attentive as he waits for more to be said.
you begin to ramble, “i like your passion for the things you care about. i like how you always say what you think. i like that you always have my back. sanji, i… really do like you.”
he gives you a weak smile. “that’s nice, sweetheart, but i don’t think you like me the way i like you.”
“just because i don’t flirt much doesn’t mean i can’t have feelings for you, idiot.”
his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows thickly, processing your words. “you— feelings?” there’s a pause. “good ones, right?”
you can’t help but giggle. “yes, good ones. sure as hell not the ones from three weeks ago.”
he joins you with a laugh of his own, which sounds wobblier than usual. he pulls out a chair next to you, as if this moment has left him so shaken up that he needs to sit down. “who would’ve thought? god, i… i can’t believe it.”
“i’ve never heard you stutter so much,” you tell him, tucking a thin strand of blonde hair behind his ear. when your fingers graze against the skin, it’s warm to the touch. cute, you think.
“i just never expected you to give me a chance.”
“a chance? to do what, exactly?” you prod.
he straightens up. “to make you mine.”
your breath hitches in your throat. “sanji—”
“i’m not going to ask anything of you just yet. i think we should take our time. i want to show you that i can be exclusively devoted to you before we go any further. it’s only fair.”
your heart thumps wildly in your chest at the sincerity behind his words. “you’re willing to wait just to prove yourself to me?”
he nods, taking one of your hands and squeezing it. his dedication required no words.
“so that means no more flirting with the female patrons? even when i’m not there beside you?”
he shrugs as if it’s common sense. “if there’s no pretty waitress i want to make jealous then i don’t see a need to flirt.”
you nudge his shoulder. “and what about your tips?”
“small price to pay.”
satisfied with his answers, you lean in and give him a quick kiss on the cheek; it feels giddy and spontaneous. sanji’s palm instinctively comes up to rest on the spot where your lips had been. he grins before attempting to speak—
a thick, husky accent shakes the walls. what makes it more terrifying is that it’s calling both yours and sanji’s names.
“break time’s over! get your asses back out there and wait some tables, now!”
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xlpoww · 8 months
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bad for business
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hi!! this is my second attempt at writing since middle school- so excuse me for it being so short/bad lol!! i had started recently watching one piece with my boyfriend and then the live action came out and i fell even more head over heels in love with sanji this is a result of that
no warnings!
word count: 620
opla! sanji x f!reader
songfic-> bad for business by sabrina carpenter
CONTINUATION (but also not a part 2) jealousy, jealousy
life on the baratie wasn’t always easy, lovely nonetheless. you couldn’t imagine trading it for anything, even if it meant having to watch your flirtatious crush work his magic on every lady in the room.
good for his heart..
sanji vinsmoke is a flirt. no one talks sweeter than the young chef with dreams of the all blue.
“now what for the lovely mademoiselle?” 
his voice floats through the air with a charm none could replicate. you don't even have to turn your head to know the question was paired with a charming smile. he might have even winked at the girl. 
her flustered giggle fills the air as she blushes up at the blonde. ordering with a smile like she’s won the lottery, her blue eyes lock on him as he retreats to the kitchen for the wine requested. 
with a chuckle and and shake of your head, you continue clearing the table in front of you. the tall blonde man was quite the smooth talker, and did a wonderful job to keep the woman with deep pockets coming back. so who were you to complain that he was so sweet?
his heart was already spoken for.
…but very bad for business
you’re no stranger to the lustful stares of the restaurant guests, and have learned to mostly turn a blind eye to them. though, every once in a while a girl takes it a little too far with him.
as you walk by her table, tray full of food in hand, you can’t help but notice her heated stare. it wasn’t directed at you, but your best friend speaking to another round table of guests. slightly on guard, you continue on towards table 6, smiling sweetly at the brunette man who winks at you as you place the ribs down on the table in front of him. 
“I didn’t realize Baratie had started hiring models? how much do they pay a pretty thing like you huh?”
you feign bashfulness, looking off to the side with a giggle.
“not enough you make it seem”
of course you’re more than used to the gross things some of the guests would utter about you (to your face nonetheless); so you knew to brace yourself a bit. but the man doesn’t escalate any further, shaking his head with a laugh that hints to you the size of the tip you’ll be getting. you turn back to him, once again smiling and telling him to let you know if they needed anything else, tucking your tray under your arm and walking back towards the kitchen.
all of my friends think i've gone crazy-
“that blonde at table 8 seems to have her eye on you-” you jest, walking up to sanji with a waggle of your eyebrows. he scoffs at you, a smile forming as he winks 
“doesn’t every woman who walks into the restaurant?” he brushes past you, placing a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he goes. you find yourself turning your head to follow his movement, grabbing onto his hand and using it to pull him closer. he seems surprised when you tug him down to your level to whisper in his ear.
“i'm sure i could show you a better time than she could” a wink finished off your flirty statement. it’s a it of a struggle to hold in the satisfied giggle, and you walk back off to go take another table’s order.
sanji’s face is dusted with a pretty pink as he stares after you, not that you would have been able to notice. 
you would also fail to hear the teasing of some of the kitchen staff after you left,
“damn casanova, i’ve never seen you left so speechless”
“she’s gonna give you a run for your money lover boy!”
there was a way only you could make his heart race.
-but they don't know me like my babyyy
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superhero--imagines · 7 months
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Being Sanji’s GF would include:
A/N: this is the ugliest banner I ever made I swear.
Tags: Female reader
* A man that is 6 ft +, can cook, and treats you with respect? I can’t believe we as a society weren’t simping for him before
* We already know that he loves pretty girls, so if you reciprocate his advances—he’s down hook, line, and sinker
* I feel like he’d fall hard and fast for someone a bit shy, with a soft form of kindness
* Sanji himself is so kind, even if it’s in these extremes depending on the gender of the recipient
* So seeing someone who kindness comes to so naturally, where it isn’t a flickering flame or a bright fire, but just a soft warmth that linger in all of their actions leaves him in awe
* “You’re amazing.”
* He’s still got a wandering eye though, so catch him randomly slapping himself or sitting with his face in his hands as he tries to restrain himself from ‘being unfaithful’
* “Hey Sanji?”
* “Hmmm.”
* “Have you ever thought about cheating on me?”
* The dishes he was washing clatters in the sink and he grabs your hand in both of his, kneeling in front of you
* “Never!” And he means it, he might look but he would never dream of being with someone other than you. “You’re the only person I want to be with.”
* I think as time goes on he gets a lot better at understanding why he feels the way he does, and eventually the flirtatious behavior cools down even though he’s still as kind as always because he realizes it comes from a place of craving validation instead of genuine love
* And honestly, now that he has you he doesn’t need it from anyone else anymore
* “(Y/N)-chan, can you get me the oregano?”
* You smile as you get it from the fridge, it’s not easy for him to ask you to do things
* He has the biggest goofiest grin on his face when you wrap your arms around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder
* Sanji would literally give you a romance as big as the world — or he’d try to at least
* “Sanji this is really lovely.” And you mean it, the candle lit dinner and all your favorite foods at the center of the deck
* “But um, I feel a little bad for Luffy.” It’s more than a little, there’s an entire waterfall of drool falling past his lips from his spot behind a pillar.
* His fingers curl under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze
* “There’s nothing to feel bad about, of course I would spoil the most important person in my life.”
* Your cheeks heat up from the words.
* “But Sanji—“ you look to the pillar seeing seven faces quickly duck, and a hand grab luffys still salivating head. “—they’re all staring!”
* If you could die from embarrassment you’d be six feet under
* “Let them stare, it’s because they’re dazzled by your beauty.”
* “Actually it’s because we’re hungry!” Luffy shouts, only to have his mouth covered by Nami.
* Sanji ends up making them a snack.
* His favorite hobby is pretending Chopper is your child when you guys go out
* “When are you guys going to stop pretending he’s your baby?” Zoro growls
* You look over at Chopper who’s happily sitting on Sanji’s shoulders, munching away on cotton candy
* “When he stops pretending to enjoy it,” You respond
* “That’s never going to happen!” Chopper shouts with a giggle
* He’s so greedy with you I swear
* You give him a kiss, he gives you back at least five
* You hold his hand, he keeps you glued to his side for the rest of the night
* “I know it’s ugly of me to get an inch and take a mile, but…around you I just can’t keep myself from trying.”
* He learns how to make all your favorite childhood foods, either from a relative or by studying old recipe books from your homeland
* And if you ever seem homesick or you’re feeling down he’ll suspense you with the dish
* “How did you learn to make this?” Your region is a far ways away from his usual French cuisine
* “I have my secrets.”
* Please cook for this man, just once, make a fancy dinner and have the whole crew pitch in as wait staff
* “You’re always taking care of us so this time we wanted to serve you!”
* He’ll eat half-burned pasta with tears of joy streaming down his face
* “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.”
* He’ll fall even harder for you if you have his wanted poster near your bunk bed
* “There’s a little red stain near my lips though—“
* “Ah, sometimes when I can’t see you at night I give it a little kiss for luck haha.”
* He’s dead. Sanjis dead.
* Cause of death: love sickness
* He died happy though
* He’s just such a simp for you man
* Like, take the shirt off his back and lay it over a puddle so you don’t get your feet wet, hear you’re craving a certain type of food and make it the next meal, buys you feminine hygiene products from the store with pride (along with some snacks he knows you like, kiss your hands and worship the ground you walk on type of love.
* Honestly what a dream
A/N: kinda wanna make a nsfw version too.
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Zoro is fuckboy material.
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Sanji is boyfriend material.
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Shanks is husband material.
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Mihawk is BDSM Dom Daddy™ material.
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Earlier I refused to elaborate.
Now, I will elaborate no further than the sources below the dotted line.
dottedlinethedottedlinethedottedlineth
Zoro
He'll pull you into a broom closet without any warning at all, turn you around, pull your panties down under your skirt, and have you right there when the mood strikes.
Then he'll catch your eye across the deck half an hour later and give you a little smirk that makes your cheeks flare bright red. You're not sure if you want to either kick him in the shin or go for another round right that moment, if not both.
He's not looking for anything serious because he's just not that good at getting close with anyone or being emotionally available in general.
There's a lot of time between port towns, and you're a good match for each other's physical needs and desires, but not much beyond that.
Sanji
Even if he is a relentless flirt, he's just such a complete sweetheart. It's difficult not to swoon at those subtle little touches at your waist and hips, at his seductive murmur in your ear.
He respects every last one of your boundaries; if you tell him something he's doing bothers you, he's going to back off from it. No protest, no questions asked. He's still going to make it clear that he thinks you're incredible, but he wants you to be comfortable and happy above all else.
He's still as sweet as candy even once he does win you over. Playful and flirty and constantly planning the most romantic dates. Picnics on the beach, preparing candlelit diners just for the two of you, laying out a pallet of blankets and pillows with a bottle of wine under the stars—doing everything possible to make you feel special.
It's difficult to tell where it will go, but he's sweet and doting and fun, and he puts every ounce of effort into treating you like literal royalty.
Shanks
You're his lover just as much as you are his best friend. He doesn't hold anything back from you, good or bad, trivial or important. He wouldn't ever consider keeping a secret from you because the thought simply wouldn't even cross his mind—whatever he knows, you know. If anyone else tells him something in confidence, they tell him knowing that he's going to tell you the second he sees you.
His gestures of romance are more subtle and revolved around camaraderie than worship. If you're cooking or cleaning, he wants to be there, both to help lessen the load and to just be there with you. If he sees you washing dishes, he's right there next to you with a towel to dry them and put them away. If you're cooking, he's helping clean up after you. If you're sweeping the floors, he's apt to just take the broom from you, kiss you on the cheek, and tell you to go take a load off and relax.
Absolutely nothing could ever stop him from being with you. There could be an entire armada of Marine warships between you and him, and he would still find his way to you.
Every hope or dream you have ever had in your life is also his now. Literally all of them. It doesn't matter how long ago it was or how unobtainable it seems—if you still want it, he wants to make sure you achieve it. Does't matter what it is. He's never going to tell you it's silly or impossible or unachievable—he's going to exhaust every effort to find a way to make sure you can achieve it.
Mihawk
Hopefully you didn’t have too many plans of your own, because if you've managed to catch his interest, he's going to make sure that you're his, and probably within the next twenty-four hours or less.
He isn’t completely unreasonable. You will have the option to refuse. But he isn’t going to beat around the bush, either. He's going to pull you against him by your hips, comb his fingers through your hair and grasp it to pull you in and ask you outright if you want to belong to him.
He won't pressure you if you say no. That's your choice. He'll just leave you with a deep, passionate kiss that makes your knees weak, a light brush of his thumb across your lips, and he'll let you go.
But if you say yes...then good luck. You're his now, and he's never letting you go.
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paperultra · 8 months
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back of house.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing
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If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.
“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”
Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.
“I’m sorry, Sanji.”
“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”
“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”
“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”
“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”
“I –”
“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”
“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”
Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”
Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”
“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”
“I’m her mentor.”
“And I’m the damn boss.”
The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.
Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.
“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”
Zeff grunts with satisfaction.
The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.
“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”
Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.
You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.
“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.
You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.
His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.
“Thank you.”
“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”
“It did.”
It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.
Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.
(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)
“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.
His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”
“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”
You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”
Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.
How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.
But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.
“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”
As always, your heart skips a beat.
“Okay.”
Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.
“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”
You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”
Your pulse pounds in your ears.
Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.
“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.
He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.
Indeed, this is home.
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honnelander · 8 months
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go fish! part 2
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guyssss i did NOT expect this little series to blow up. y'all are amazing! i'm turning into a Sanji writing blog and am i mad about it? no lmao i received a couple of requests and i'll work on them as soon as i can. i'm really in the zone rn so i'll ride this wave as long as i can. if you want to be a part of the taglist for whenever i post new Sanji content, lmk. i hope you enjoy!
WARNINGS: none
word count: 2.8k
pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader
summary: after being humiliated by Usopp earlier, reader stays in her room to decompress. however, she gets a visitor.
prequel part 1 part 3 part 4 masterlist
taglist: @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @jovialcat123
Mortified. That’s how you felt. Still. 
Ever since you ‘forfeited’ from finishing your Go Fish card game with Usopp a couple of hours ago, you had taken your glass of water that Sanji had poured for you and boarded up in your shared room with Nami, refusing to come out due to “heat exhaustion”. 
Poor Luffy, ever the golden hearted captain, was immediately worried for your wellbeing as soon as he heard that but after multiple reassurances from you and getting up off of your hammock multiple times to prove you were in fact, just fine, he relented from wanting to stop by the nearest island so he could find a doctor for you. Usopp had managed to convince him as well that all you needed was some water, alone time, and that you would be fine by dinnertime. 
You rubbed your eyes as you let out a sigh, vowing to yourself that the next time you wanted some time by yourself, you should just take a bath or something, since any other excuse would cause someone on the crew (Luffy) to lose their mind at the thought of someone not feeling well. 
You readjusted yourself, sitting more upright, as you downed the last of your water, it being warm by this point since it had been poured by Sanji hours ago. 
Sanji. Ugh.  
Your heart fluttered once again at the mere thought of him, but that flutter was immediately replaced by a wave of crashing embarrassment at the thought of the afternoon’s sequence of events. What had happened earlier wasn’t even anything that groundbreaking or special, but to you? It was everything. It wasn’t common practice in your life for the object of your affections to be so kind towards you, so thoughtful, to read and anticipate your needs before you even knew they were even there. But Sanji? He was all of that and more. And you didn’t even know him for that long! You’ve all been a part of the straw-hat crew for 5 months at this point and it felt silly to admit to yourself that you had developed a crush on one of your crewmates in that short amount of time. 
And having feelings for your crewmate? Someone who you literally couldn’t get away from since you all were trapped on a ship together (not that you would ever want to be away from him or anyone else for that matter, besides Usopp, but still), it felt morally wrong. You guys were all a team. Sure, you all were off to sail around the world and chase dreams, but achieving all of that required teamwork and trust, and that was hard to do if two of those people were caught up with matters of the heart every hour of every day. 
Like, what if things didn’t work out in the end? Would you really want to put the crew’s dynamic at stake just because you thought the blonde guy was cute? No, you wouldn’t. It would be selfish so you would never dare to put yourself or Sanji in that position. No matter how much you liked him. 
So as much as it pained you, you could never tell Sanji how you feel. You would never cross that line of being a ‘professional pirate’ into something more, like a pirate wife. Or a pirate chef’s wife. 
It definitely didn’t help that freaking Usopp of all people on the crew knew about your affections for Sanji. Ugh, you groaned. He was the absolute worst person to know about it too. Why did he have to figure it out? Why did he have to be the one that had put two and two together to equal four? That your random bouts of awkwardness and shyness plus ‘heart eyes’ and blushes whenever Sanji was around equaled to you having a forbidden crush on the crew’s chef? It was embarrassing. And complicated.  
He loved to stir the pot too, so whenever he could tease you for it when you both were alone or in front of a clueless Sanji, he would. You remembered the kiss he had shared with Kayla back when the straw-hats had acquired the Going Merry, so you definitely jabbed him right back when you had had enough, since part of you felt guilty for it since Kayla was thousands of miles away and Sanji lived on this ship with you. Your situations were slightly similar but completely different.  
Also, completely different in the way that him and Kayla were basically dating at this point, albeit long distance, and had shared a kiss while you could barely sustain eye contact that lasted more than 5 seconds with Sanji. 
You were hopeless. 
“Knock, knock,” a familiar accented voice came through the closed door. “Y/n? Are you awake?” 
"Sanji?” you blurted out in complete surprise.  
Shit. You weren’t mentally prepared to see him just yet. At all. You were still replaying the interaction you both had earlier in your head, your overthinking mind going over every minute detail to figure out if Usopp’s careless teasing had given away your affections.  
Usopp, you mentally ground out. You were going to kill him. Sanji had never stopped by your room before so what on earth was he doing here now?  
Suddenly, a thought struck you like a bolt of lightning and made your stomach drop fifty miles below sea level: if Sanji had specifically stopped by your room just to gently let you down, that no, in fact he did not feel the same way about you, that he only thought of you as a member of the crew and nothing more....then yeah, you were definitely going to kill Usopp and throw him overboard. 
Before you could mentally plot out more details on Usopp's murder, the door opened and the straw-hat chef’s blonde head appeared. His eyes quickly scanned Nami’s empty hammock on the room’s left side before turning his head to the right, his blue eyes immediately finding your surprised ones, a (relieved?) smile lighting up his face at the sight of you. 
“So, I take it you’re awake?” Sanji asked in a light, teasing tone but not making an effort to move himself away from the doorway. 
“Uh, y-eah,” you stuttered out in surprise as you just stared at him dumbfounded. You still couldn’t figure out why he was here. 
Sanji continued to lock eyes with you, making your cheeks flush the longer you both stared at each other, and your palms sweat as the silence stretched on, making the tension in the air become thicker by the second. He blinked, his eyes darting to the side in confusion, raising an eyebrow as he asked, “May I come in?” 
“OH! Yes, of course- sorry,” you stuttered as you waved him inside, sitting up in your hammock and mentally face palmed yourself. Of course, Sanji was waiting on you to invite him inside. Like always, he was acting like a true gentleman. “Please, come in. Have a seat. Sorry, that was rude of me. Make yourself at home.” 
Sanji stood up to his full height and walked into your room with an easy smile and a small laugh, closing the door behind him. “Ah, don’t ever apologize y/n. You could never be rude to me,” Sanji rebuttalled and waved off your apology as he looked around and took in your very plain and basic shared room with Nami.  
Your room, or side of the room more specifically, wasn’t much to brag about considering you really didn’t have much to your name but for now, it was home to you. Your side consisted of your hammock, a wooden barrel next to it to act as a makeshift nightstand that housed your only book, a journal, and a lamp, along with an empty wooden crate to act as a makeshift seat and another to hold some of your other clothes and small travel bag. Nami’s side was similar to yours but had a touch more personality as she hung up some maps she found at various markets and drew up herself on her wall. 
You swallowed, suddenly feeling a tad self-conscious about the lack of things in your room considering your current guest was dressed, as usual, to the nines in his signature black suit and blue and white striped shirt complete with a skinny black tie. “Sorry for the sad state of my room-” 
“Sad?” Sanji stopped admiring your room and snapped his gaze to look at you. His eyebrows pulled together as another confused smile adorned his features. “Why would you say that? Your room isn’t sad, I like it. It’s a reflection of you,” his next words came out softer, “and I think that’s beautiful.” 
You could feel heat crawling up your neck at his words as you busied yourself with placing the empty glass in your hand on your barrel nightstand. There was no way Sanji was calling you beautiful, he was just commenting on your room. With Nami. On your shared room that owed any ounce of ‘personality’ to the ship’s navigator because it was obvious you literally brought nothing special to this room whatsoever.  
You stopped yourself from spiraling into ‘I don’t bring anything special to the straw-hats, I don’t know why they keep me around’ thoughts because now wasn’t the time to think about any of that. Those dark thoughts were reserved when you couldn’t sleep in the middle of the night.  
As you placed the glass on the nightstand, you asked, “So, what brings you all the way to my room? Aren’t you usually prepping for dinner around this time?” 
Sanji’s eyes followed your hand and lit up when he saw the sole book on your nightstand. “Oh, a book? I didn’t know you liked to read.” His megawatt smile lit up a couple of notches as his eyes sparkled, he looked like he had just learned one of the universe’s greatest mysteries as he took a seat near you on an empty crate. “What book is that?” 
“Oh, that?” You mentally deflated at the fact you now had to tell Sanji about your favorite book, “It’s Pride and Prejudice.”  
You weren’t ashamed of having that book specifically, you loved it and it was your favorite book of all time, you had lost count at how many times you had read it at this point, but it was the fact that you now had to share this part of yourself with the guy you fancied. Guys normally scoffed and turned their nose up at romance book and romantic things, so you were bracing for Sanji to scoff and laugh at you like all the other guys did (like even Zoro and Usopp did when they first saw you reading it) but it never came. 
Instead, Sanji’s smile remained bright. “Ah, so you’re a lover of classic romances? Pride and Prejudice? Romeo and Juliet?” 
Immediately, you smiled, finding yourself instantly comfortable suddenly whenever you got to talk about one of your favorite things. “Absolutely. I don’t think there’s a problem big enough out there that love can’t solve. Family backgrounds? Wealth and status? At the end of the day, none of that stuff matters. What matters is if two people love each other.” 
Sanji stayed quiet for a moment, looking into your eyes with a twinkle of an emotion that you couldn’t decipher. It made your heart skip a beat. “Yeah,” he agreed quietly, never breaking eye contact. “I agree.” 
You swallowed. “You like this stuff too? Have you read Pride and Prejudice?” 
Sanji blinked and that indescribable emotion he had in his eyes was gone. His smile remained, however, and became sheepish as he held up his hands, “Ah ok, you caught me. I’ve never read the full thing, but I know the main parts of the story. My favorite part that I did read though, was the first dinner with Mr. Collins and he complimented the Bennets on their ‘excellent boiled potatoes’.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh at that, shaking your head slightly as you teased, “I should’ve known that the chef of the Going Merry’s favorite part of the book is when food is discussed!” 
The blonde cook held his hands up again with a good-natured laugh, “Ah, you got me!” His face softened as he asked, “What about you?" He nodded towards the book. "What’s your favorite part?” 
You paused for a second as you mulled the question over. “Well, I'm not sure if you know about this part since you never read the book...” 
“Try me,” he encouraged softly. 
Your face turned to the side, your eyes looking at the wooden wall to your right, unable to bring yourself to look at Sanji as you told him your favorite part of your favorite book. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and calm your nerves, your voice becoming quiet as you told him, “My favorite part is...when Mr. Darcy barges in on Elizabeth for the first time, while she’s at her friend Charlotte’s house writing a letter. He had come to practice ‘conversating’ with her since he admitted that it wasn’t something he was good at and she had told him to practice it. So, Mr. Darcy just barged in and they had one of the most painfully awkward conversations ever...and he did all that just because he loves her. He did something he hated and was bad at, and opened himself up to embarrassment just because he wanted to improve and be better for her. It’s so romantic and beautiful.” 
The air was quiet after your mini monologue and for a moment, nothing could be heard except for their quiet breathing and the occasional crash of the ocean from outside your small window. 
Part of you worried that your little rambling had bored Sanji, so when you finally looked at him, imagine your surprise when you found him leaning in towards you, hands clasped, elbows resting on his knees and his eyes watching you, completely engaged. It was like he was hanging onto your every word. 
Sanji scanned your face for a moment, the corner of his lips curling upwards as he said, “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not familiar with that part in the book,” and before you could open your mouth to bring yourself down, he continued, “but, that doesn’t mean your answer is wrong.” He leaned back and slapped his hands against his thighs, “Hell, it’s a much more insightful answer than mine!” He laughed. “I just liked how they were poking some fun at boiled potatoes.” 
You laughed with him because yes, that part in the book also made you laugh as well. But at the mention of food, you realized that you still didn’t know why Sanji was here in the first place. Wasn’t he normally prepping for dinner at this time? He had to be running behind schedule at this point. 
“Why are you here, Sanji? Isn’t it almost time for dinner?” 
“Yeah, it is actually but I heard you weren’t feeling well so I wanted to check in on you, make sure you’re feeling alright and see if you have any special requests for dinner?” 
You couldn’t help the slight smile that overtook your face, trying to hide the blush at the fact that he was kind enough to check in on you and offer to practically be your own personal chef for the evening. 
You hummed for a moment, acting like you were deep in thought before asking with a raised eyebrow, "And what would you say if I requested some boiled potatoes?”  
The smile that lit up the chef’s face was priceless. He had never looked more beautiful. “To that, I would say ‘Absolutely. If that’s what the missus wants, then that is what the missus will get.’” 
Missus. There it was again. You felt all warm inside whenever he called you that, it made you feel like he was your husband and that you were his wife. But that wasn’t the case. Sanji definitely must have called other women that before. You weren’t special to him, he was just being polite.  
You swallowed down your emotions, putting your sudden wave of sadness away for later, putting on a small smile. “Then that sounds perfect. I would like to formally request some ‘excellent boiled potatoes’ as a side for dinner, please.” 
If Sanji noticed your sudden change in mood, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned as he said, “Excellent choice, Madam. Boiled potatoes, coming right up.” As he stood up and made his way towards your door, Sanji did one of the most unexpected things that nearly knocked the wind out of you. With his left hand on the doorknob he said, “And don’t worry, Madam. I’ll sprinkle in a little bit of extra love in there,” he turned and winked at you, “just for you.” 
With that, Sanji left your room, gently closing the door behind him, leaving you completely dumbstruck in your room, your mouth agape and body frozen. 
Did Sanji just say he loved you? 
You shook your head, because there was no way he did, right? He said he’d ‘sprinkle in some extra love’ into your potatoes, not 'I love you". You weren’t a chef, maybe that was a euphemism for something. 
You sighed.  
Those better be some good boiled potatoes. 
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luxthestrange · 7 months
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OP Incorrect quotes#12 The Baby
Y/n: Zoro, Sanji and I are adopting a kid!~
Chopper: that's great-
Sanji & Zoro*slamming adoption papers on the table* It's you, sign here
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