#sanji fic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

togenabi · 7 months

Text

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

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

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

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

also on♡— ao3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Same time tomorrow?”

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

But your sister does.

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

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

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

“Ow!” You yelp.

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

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

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

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

Chrysanth kicks you again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

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

Just Sanji. With you, next to you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“August?” You blurt out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I would be honored.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know, love.” He says.

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

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he won’t tell you that.

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

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

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tinkerbelle05 · 4 months

Note

Sanji please 🙏🏽 🩷

His Accent

Characters: Sanji x Fem!reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: (Requested) After Sanji realizes how much of an effect his accent has on you, he abuses it.

Warning: none :) Thanks for the request, and so sorry it's like months late.... 👨‍🍳

Sanji had an accent. You knew this, it was one of the very first things you noticed about him when you met him.

That and his smooth talking skills.

Slowly but surely Sanji had created a space for himself in your life as your lover and you wouldn't have had it any other way. At this point in your relationship, you were used to his casual but over the top flirting and rather bold hand placement, and can proudly say that those actions don’t make you blush like a fool anymore.

But the way that certain words go through his teeth and roll of his tongue still gets to you. His accent still makes you smile uncontrollably. You still repeat the words you like he says in your head over and over again.

His accent was absolutely beautiful.

“Love did you hear me?” You faintly heard Sanji asked.

“Huh?” You asked, you were completely spaced out. “Uh, repeat that for me?” You asked as you moved around the kitchen with him. You were just prepping the vegetables. Nothing major, but you wanted to help Sanji in anyway you can.

“Can you pass me 8 onions please, love?” he asked again.

Like the way he said 8. It hot, plain and simple. You nodded, a bit flustered and handed him his items.

“Did I say something funny?” Sanji asked with a confused look on his face.

“Huh? Why do you asked?” You asked with a confused look on your face now. Where did he get that idea from?

He snickered, “Well you had that pretty smile I know and love on. So I thought I did something to make you laugh.”

You shake your head, “No, you didn’t.” You wouldn’t dare tell Sanji how his accent had an affect on you. You knew he’d never let you live that down.

And afterwards, there was a comfortable quietness between you two. You were staring at the window, looking at the miles of ocean while Sanji continued cutting the vegetables. You were lost in thought again until Sanji lifted your chin to meet his eyes.

“Love, are you okay?” He asked.

Your eyes slightly widen in shock but you shook your head, “Yea, no I’m fine.”

He doesn’t look the least bit convinced with your lousy lie. He gives you an unimpressed stare at you, “Okay whatever you say, Dove.”

That turned you bright red and you quickly ducked so he wouldn’t see you. But the damaged was already done. He’d seen your reaction.

Soft, deep laughs fill the space as you tried to escape him but it doesn’t work. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him.

“Ohh, I get it now. You like my accent, don’t you? Is that why you’ve been acting like this.” Sanji said while laughing, his breath tickling the back of your neck.

“What?! No!” You denied the accusation.

This only made him laugh harder and he peppers short kisses all over the side of your neck, “You do find it attractive.”

“How dare you assume—”

“Sweets, you’re smiling uncontrollably. Your voice is high, and you can’t look me in the eye at all. I know you, you’re turned on by my voice, huh? It’s my accent, isn’t it?” He pressed on, a teasing smirk plastered on his face.

That bastard…..

You were still going to deny it. He was still going to pester you about it for weeks to come.

He’ll come over to you while you were doing some menial task and talk your ear off.

“How’s your day going, lovely?” He’d whisper into your ear. And he would purposefully overemphasize certain words to make his accent more noticeable.

And to make you blush even more.

You avoided eye contact with him while you swabbed the deck, “Why are you speaking like that?”

He grabbed your waist and slot his chin in the crock of your neck, “Speaking like what, love? I’ve always spoken like this.” While smiling like a fool.

You gave him look and turned back to your work. Trying desperately to hide the smile that’s forming on your lips from him. That would just give him more ammunition to continue.

This never ends for you. Even months later, when you foolishly think he has forgotten. He’ll smile at you and talk in an exasperated accent that gets worst with each word.

I don’t really like the ending but it’s been a while since I’ve gotten this req. As always, likes, comments, and reposts are appreciated but not obligated.

Tags: @abree234, @louissolovely, @randomhoex, @marceesworld, @dragonqueenfk, @puff-hugs, @childofhecate108, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @thatgothic-nerd, @charliepoopyfart, @rotin0, @nikolaevna-art, @0picels0, @tayharrper, @cielitoot7, @borkbarnes, @simpingmyassoff, @ramielll, @villainouspotential, @poketrainer2270, @hopester08, @avatarkanemi, @dimplewonie, @fandomsunited, @don-tuna,

Taglist & Masterlist & Reqs Info

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itjazzbicch · 7 months

Text

Bliss & Care

Pairing: Sanji x Fem Reader

First time writing for Sanji so I hope I did well!

Summary: Training with Zoro ends up leaving the reader sore from the intense session and when Sanji comes to check on the reader, he learns that she needs some care and then some…

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!) Foreplay, Pet Names (Dear, princess, love, Angel) oral F receiving, slight swearing, praise

Word Count: .9k

“Urgh, damn it!”

Trying to build up some strength by training with Zoro ended up being a regret. I was so sore that I could barely tolerate it.

I thought a hot bath would help loosen and relax my tense muscles, but it didn’t make much of a difference.

Sitting in bed, only in a robe, I was trying to rub my back, not hearing outside the door:

“Y/N! My dear! I brought you a snack! I’m sure you need it after your workout!”

“Shit!” Getting a sharp pain and letting out a loud yelp, Sanji came running through the door concerned:

“Are you okay, my dear?!”

Turning and noticing him, I was pouting at the pain in my shoulders and back:

“Zoro trains like a maniac and now I’m super sore. My back hurts like hell.”

“Damn that Moss head, hurting my princess,” He puffed, sitting the dish tray down on my dresser, “Maybe a good massage would help? I hate to see you in pain.”

He was being his lovesick self again, heart eyes and jaw about on the floor as I lowered my robe to expose my back, asking kindly as I was desperate for relief:

“Please? Only if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind!” He squealed, jumping and sitting behind my back, starting at my shoulders and the first deep rub from his fingertips had my head dropping back.

“Thank you so much,” I whined, the pain hitting then fading away as he hit all the right spots, slowly working down my back.

“No need to thank me, love,” He cooed, taking his time in a rough spot that had me whining again, moaning at the relief I felt after:

“Shit, that’s good.”

Suddenly, he grew quiet and with my eyes closed, I rested back against his chest while he massaged my shoulders again, opening an eye when I felt something poking my lower back, seeing him staring over my shoulder at my breasts that was nearly exposed.

“Sorry,” He chuckled nervously, nearly in a drool as he kept admiring me, “You’re just so beautiful.”

“It’s okay,” I blushed, heating up at his wondering hands, whispering in my ear:

“I can’t help but want to hear you making those angelic noises.”

He worked magic and made my pain disappeared like nothing happened, grateful and turned on as well, offering:

“Why don’t you keep making me feel good then? You’ll surely hear those angelic noises.”

Since he had the green light, he didn’t hesitate to fight any temptations, untying my robe and cupping my breasts with a squeeze.

“So beautiful,” Brushing my robe to the side and revealing my nudeness, I’d never seen his face so red, giggling at it till I moaned at the kiss he left at my neck.

Soft and tender, one hand kept fondling my breasts while the other crept between my thighs, effortlessly finding my clit, instantly making me melt against him with my moans growing.

“I know you trained hard today; I’ll take care of Moss-Head for that later, but now? You just lay back and relax, Angel.”

Gently laying me back, I gladly did as so, breathing in deep as his lips found my nipple, his hums already filled with so much bliss as he sucked a little, hands rubbing my thighs and gripping tighter as his sucks grew a little harder.

A swift swirl of his tongue around my nipple over, not realizing how sensitized they were till he flicked over them softly, watching how my head dipped back into the bed and my body squirm.

“Relaaax,” Massaging my sides and leading his kisses downward, his head nudged my leg and spread them open, lips tenderly finding my inner thighs, “I promise I’m going to take good care of you.”

“Sooo good, Sanji,” I praised, shaking at the wet kisses along my thighs, my chest heaved with a gasp as his tongue dragged through my folds, “Sanji!”

“Fuck,” He breathed in, kissing my clit and quickly getting lost in the bliss we were both feeling, “Delicious you are, angel.”

Burying his head between my legs, his hot breath fanning over my clit while licking up every drop of my slick had my thighs closing his head in, his hands pressing them harder against him as his tongue pushed inside me, upward flicks making me squirm more than before.

I only grew more soaked and wet, my gasps and whines making him glance up till my hand ran through his hair, begging;

“Please keep going, Sanji? I’m close!”

“Don’t need to ask, dear,” He chuckled, licking up through my folds, tongue swirling around my clit before sucking, gently adding a finger and pumping softly but hitting deep to get me closer.

His eyes didn’t leave my body, burning every move and noise I made into his memory to last forever, high pitched gasps from above making focus more on the work of his tongue, gasping and opening his mouth wide with a kiss, a satisfied groan intensifying my orgasm as I kept his head buried with my hand:

“Yes, Sanji! Ngh, that’s; Ah, ah!”

“You taste so so good,” He smiled while lapping up my slick, kissing over my folds, massaging away the shakes I still had, “You feel better, yeah?”

“Never felt this good,” I panted softly, trying to regain my breath, tired but smiling down at him, “Always taking such good care of me.”

“Always,” He smiled back, coming up to kiss my cheek, “I will always give you the best, my dear angel.”

2023 © itjazzbicch — do not repost or translate my work. Likes, reblogs, and comments are always welcome

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fanaticsnail · 6 months

Text

Three, Two, One: Part 1 of 3

Hello beautiful people! I have decided to turn this part one-shot into a two-part series - SPECIFICALLY because I wanted it to be happy and playful, but it is leaning into a super HARD angst and I didn't want to spoil the playful vibe 👌

Word Count: 3,928

Warnings: mentions of tobacco, nicotine and addiction.

Song accompaniment: Know You Girls, Honey, Boy Toy

Fic Request Prompt by: @terarria-sunflower. Masterlist Here.

“Three, two, one,” you glanced down at your rotund, egg-shaped ticking timer as it began to shake as soon as the final number fled softly from your lips. A small smirk pulled at the corner of your mouth as you gazed at the blonde chef as he placed the relinquished cigarette butt within his ashtray; closing the metal lid to keep the cinders away from tainting the blue ocean with its waste.

“Down to the last second,” you muttered again to yourself, shaking your head while opening your journal and jotting down a new number within the pages. You flipped the yellow ribbon back within the page and shut your book; the several ribbons swaying at the bottom of the journal as you wrapped it around in its bound leather strap to place back atop the table.

As ship’s chronicler, you were tasked with notetaking and scribing the comings and goings aboard the Going Merry; a task which you undertook with complete precision and gusto. You had everything down to a fine craft; from documenting strategic battle maneuvers, to how many engagements in combat Zoro completed before his blades needed repair, down to exactly when the ship would need to pull in to resupply the kitchen with fresh ingredients, and the vessel with fresh medical supplies.

Your attention was being currently drawn to cataloguing the kitchen, searching through the prior menus Sanji had completed to determine which items took priority to resupply. As the kitchen was the blonde chef’s domain, you were spending far more time with him currently than the other members of the crew. You adored how passionate he was about food, and reveled in his eagerness to offer flirtations with you. Originally, you paid his flirtations very little mind; drawing conclusions that his words and gestures was built into his character as his occupation moulded him.

However, as his flirtations became more bold with his subtle smirks and playful words directed towards you; you decided it would be amusing to return his gestures, primarily out of boredom in your travels. Immediately, you found entertainment with how flustered you could make him, how his eyes would twinkle widely and his chin would fall to the ground to have his face shrouded by his blonde hair to shield the rising blush from your view.

Gentle touches of his hands brushing against yours as you passed him your journal to look over your kitchen restock notes, leaning yourself towards him over the kitchen benchtop with a playful bite of your lip while you asked him a mundane question, sitting in silence as he lit a cigarette and gawked at you while you read over your notes; crossing your right leg over your left and absent mindedly brushing your toes against his outer thighs with a light smirk.

It was truly a joy to see him flustered. He knew all of the right words and actions to pose towards others in playful advance, but never quite knew how to process the same unbridled gestures when they were reflected back onto him.

As Sanji walked his away from the wooden frame of the Going Merry’s kitchen bay-window, he turned towards you and smiled his beautiful, cuspid smile as you. Your heart began to swell at his attention, prompting you to look up at him half-lidded and cock your head to the side.

“What are you doing in here, beautiful?” he asked, continuing his approach.

“Oh, just cataloguing in the log book while enjoying the view,” you taunted him back with your playfulness, shamelessly raking your eyes over his torso, down his legs and back up to meet his gaze; “the ocean outside the window is nice to look at, too.”

He paused his movement, a small flustered panic behind his eyes before his smile spread further to his face, “You like what you see, then?” He gestured his hand over his body and arched his eyebrow upwards in question. He was wearing his blue and white-striped shirt with his black tie clasped firmly around his neck; sleeves fastened down at his wrists, secured by black buttoned cuff-links.

Your smirk drew into a broad smile as he continued to step closer to you, you confirming: “yes, chef.”

He allowed a large laugh to escape his parted lips, shaking his head at your brazen sanction.

“You hungry?” he asked once his laughter teetered off.

“Barely,” you shrugged, rising to your feet from your place sitting above deck, “but if it means spending more time with you, I’ll accompany you here the kitchen and aid your preparation for-,” you paused, reopening your journal and skimming it’s pages before locating the correct passage; “-Luffy’s second afternoon tea before dinner?”

He again chuckled at you, beginning to roll up his sleeves by unbuttoning his cuffs; “alright then, come and help me. Keep me company.”

You smiled again at him before reaching down towards the table and retrieving your egg-shaped timer from atop the wooden surface and holding it firmly within your hands. Sanji furrowed his brows, looking at the timer in your hands; “what’s with the timer?”

“Oh,” you shrugged, patting him on the shoulder as you moved past him, “nothing that should concern you.” He cocked his head up at the comment, intrigued by your nonchalant comment. You placed the object back down beside your journal, fixed to remain in its non-ticking nor shaking state for the interim as you readied yourself to begin aiding Sanji with the formulation of the meals.

“Okay then, let’s get started,” he began after rinsing his hands thoroughly, turning to his work station and bringing out several ingredients to ready preparation for Luffy’s snack; a two course meal with several sweet and savoury elements that were not too difficult to execute. You began to lather your hands with soap to wash them before you made your way to aid Sanji with food preparation.

While your back was turned and your egg timer and journal were left unattended; Sanji felt he had no choice but to peruse through the pages, finding your latest entry with the yellow ribbon: the colour he knew represented his entries for your chronicler-duties. Your journal was by no means taboo nor out of bounds for any members of the crew, but as Sanji searched through the pages; he was secretly hoping to find some semblance of minor infatuation towards him.

You both flirted with each other incessantly and constantly aboard the ship, and while travelling from port to port. Sanji couldn’t help but to be wooed by your words and actions, hoping that what began as entertainment from boredom grew as much for you as it did for him; hopefully fanning the flames of a small crush on your crewman into potentially developing into a deeper relationship.

You placed an apron over your head and secured the strap around your waist to stop any food items from falling to your clothes accidentally as he watched you over his shoulder; before hunching back over to find anything of the romantic nature between the pages.

He skimmed over his routine, noting several lines of ingredients he neglected to inform you in need of resupply already added to the journal. He sighed, contented and relieved to see you were effortlessly able to pick up on his subtle substitutions he used to cover the need for the missing ones; grinning at the knowledge of how attuned you were to his actions and efforts as chef aboard the vessel. In his daily schedule, he noticed several small crosses flurrying throughout his comings and goings; numbers written next to each cross.

He furrowed his brows and continued skimming over the pages, passing now onto the green-ribbon section: Zoro’s routine, noting his schedule had no crosses nor numbers. He deepened his frown and looked to the orange, red and blue ribbons for Nami, Luffy and Usopp’s schedules and noticed no crosses on their schedules either. Was this the answer he was looking for? He needed to know, and he needed to know, now.

“Hey, love?” Sanji spoke up, alerting you of his attention. You creased your brows at him, noting he had opened your log-journal and was reading his pages; “what are all these marks?”

Wiping your hands on a hanging blue and white kitchen towel, you turned to approach him; leaning your elbow on his shoulder as he turned his body into you, keeping his sights held to the pages of his schedule. You tilted your head towards your notation and narrowed your eyes before turning away from the pages to look at the blonde chef to your side.

“Those are your cigarette breaks, Sanji,” you smiled at him, reaching up to move his blonde hair away from shielding his eyes from you, “I’ve timed them.”

You turned away from him towards the kitchen counter and began sorting through the stock and comprising them into an order of need: items that needed to be cooked and items that only required assembly.

Sanji turned his eyes back to the page and creased his brows at the notes, looking over and acknowledging truly how many times he sought out the nicotine hit within his day to day activities. Although he didn’t manage to secure what he was hoping for, he remained perplexed by the sheer number and time throughout the day he received his dose of nicotine; almost angry at himself for the total amount.

“I have that many?” he asked, rethreading the ribbon back into the pages and putting the journal back atop the counter next to the egg timer.

“That you do, chef,” you nodded, continuing to sort out the piles of ingredients and readying a knife to begin peeling. Sanji hummed, looking over at you as you began peeling fruit with the edge of your knife. He emptied his pockets, placing his tobacco pouch, ash tray and lighter next to your journal before equipping himself with an apron to join next to you.

You both continued to prepare Luffy’s second afternoon snack together, laughing at something one another said and flirtatiously advancing each other with nothing more than a gentle graze of a shoulder or a brush of a fingertip as you continued working with one another. Once you had completed the task, Sanji removed his apron and began reaching toward his tobacco pouch and ash tray. A sly and mischievous look fell over your features.

“Can I ask you a question, chef?” you asked in a slight hint of mischief in your tone, prompting him to halt his retrieval of the pouch for a moment. You removed your apron and hooked it over a brass kitchen rail.

“Anything for you, love,” he smirked at you, turning around to face you and scrunching up his nose playfully. You tilted your head, walking closer to him and gazing up into his eyes.

“What is it about cigarettes that have such a hold over you?” you asked him curiously, “obviously it is the nicotine addiction, but is there more to it than just that?”

Sanji broke his sights away from you and looked off to the ceiling in thought with a small hum.

“You know,” he began with a nod, turning his eyes back down to meet your gaze, “I hadn’t given it much thought until now, truthfully. Maybe the rush? Taking a moment to myself? Could just be the chemical endorphins or the adrenaline, really.”

You nodded and downturned your lips in thought with a shrug. Sanji smirked at you, half-lidding his eyes mischievously before asking; “Why? You got a theory?”

“Frankly, I think it’s primarily about the nicotine,” you nodded, a wince of a smile falling to your face, “you should really think about breaking the habit, it’ll shorten your life and ruin your palate in the long run.”

You flicked your index finger over his chin playfully, a flirtatious grin rising again to your lips; “gotta keep that talented tongue in peak shape for when we get to the All-Blue. Can’t have everything tasting like ash now, can we?”

A small pink hue rose to his cheeks as you allowed a small giggle to escape your lips. You turned away from him to collect your journal, revelling at how flustered you made the flirtatious chef.

“You make a fine point, beautiful,” he broke his face back into a smile, “how do you suggest I get my fix? Save my palate,” he added with a small chuckle.

You halted your step and quirked your head to the side before turning back to face him again.

“Let’s look at natural remedies,” you pondered, looking upwards at the ceiling, a list forming in your mind; “for adrenaline, why not spar with Zoro? He’d likely appreciate the amount of practice he could get in.”

Sanji hummed, stepping his body closer to you, “doesn’t really serve the endorphin release now, does it, love?”

You giggled in response, again looking towards the chef in thought, “you could go for a quick dip in the ocean? Breath control and adrenaline with that one.”

“And strip off my clothes multiple times a day?” he shook his head with a large grin forming, “I hardly see that as a helpful alternative. Again, it misses the endorphin release and doesn’t meet the accessibility criteria.”

You furrowed your brows and pursed your lips in thought. He chuckled again, turning back to face the table to retrieve his tobacco pouch and lighter, beginning to assemble a cigarette; rolling the tobacco within wafer-thin paper and adding a thin filter port to the end of it. He leant against the table, hips aligning with the height as he reclined back into it. As he brought the filter end to his lips, a stroke of genius struck you. He rose his lighter towards his lips and made to cradle the flame to ignite the end, halting at your next words.

“Kiss me,” you uttered softly with your head swaying as you held a small shyness to your voice, a tone Sanji almost missed. His eyes widened, mouth falling slightly ajar as his cigarette clung to his bottom lip.

“What was that-?” he asked in an utterance slightly more elevated than your own. You looked up at him with a small playful grin as you took your bottom lip once again within your teeth to bite it.

“Breath control,” you said more confidently, beginning to step closer towards him, “adrenaline release,” you raked your eyes over his body before settling on holding his eyes firm to you, “endorphin rush? I’d say a simple kiss would meet the criteria.”

His breath hitched within his throat at the suggestion, prompting him to reach up and remove the cigarette from between his lips and place it on the table behind him.

“You’re saying I can kiss you-,” he confirmed with a small hint of both delight and apprehension, “-for as long as I want?”

You giggled, reaching past him to retrieve your egg timer, “I’ll allow you to kiss me for as long as you need to.”

Sanji quirked his head at your actions, widening his eyes at the egg timer in your hands before a small chuckle fell from his lips. You stepped within his personal proximity after searching his eyes for any apprehension to do so. Meeting none, you settled comfortably in the space between his legs as he remained reclined against the table.

“And judging from your routine: with your mornings, you take about two minutes per cigarette,” you nod your head, rolling the timer within your hands, “your afternoon ones are down to a solid three and a half to four,” he nodded, taking your wrists within his hands and looking down still at the timer, “your before dinner cigarette is about one and a half, because you’re desperate at that stage,” he snickered at your comment, you giggling again in tow.

“And my after dinner one?” he asked you in a breathy, almost frantic voice, “surely I take my time with that one-.”

“-The after dinner one, you usually take around three,” you cut him off with a small giggle, “but your before bed one,” you nudged your nose under his chin to bring his gaze up to meet you once more, “that’s where you take your time with a solid five,” you whispered suggestively close to his jaw.

A small whined-groan escaped from him as he began to chase your face to seek to capture your lips in a kiss, meeting only the tips of your fingers pressed against his lips in response. He furrowed his brows and flittered his eyes down towards your hand and back to gazing intensely into your eyes.

“Hold on, big boy,” you warned him, scrunching up your nose playfully, “I have to set the timer first, or it’s all for naught.”

He nudged your hand away with his chin and a small growl escaping his lips in displeasure at your apprehension. You chuckled at his eagerness, allowing your hand to fall onto his cheek in a gentle caress.

“Surely not for the first one,” he commented hoarsely, desperately as he began reaching down to take the timer from your hands; only to be met with your hands closing over the egg-timer and holding it firmer, “just a taste-.”

“-It’s part of the fun,” you smile at him, floating your gaze over his face; falling on his lips before rising up again to meet with his eyes, “otherwise it won’t work and you’ll be back to square one."

He hummed in response, almost in a low whine as he pressed his forehead against you and grazing his hands down your ribcage to settle against your hips; “and what do you get out of aiding me with my fix?”

“I get the knowledge,” you whisper against his jaw, grazing your lips along his skin slowly, “that I’m the one bringing the rush to you, Sanji. I’m the one making you feel good.”

“Set the timer,” he growled firmly, eyes darkening with his pupils blown out and intense with desire, “four minutes.”

“Oui, chef,” you whispered with a small giggle in anxious anticipation, pulling your lips away from his jaw and turning towards your egg timer; winding it to the appropriate duration.

“Okay Sanji, the time starts: n-,” your words are halted by his the soft but intense collision of Sanji’s lips overzealously engaging in entanglement against your own. You squealed slightly at the immediacy of his reaction, your eyes wide as you stared at his closed eyes as his brows creased in intensity with your cheeks held firmly within his hands.

You reached slowly behind him to place the timer down on the table and raked your hands over his back and slid your fingertips against his flesh and holding his hips firmly while closing your eyes. You shifted your lips against his, opening them to deepen the kiss and allow him to glide his tongue behind your entrance to dance with your tongue. You gasped as soon as the contact was made, feeling a sharp piece of metal beneath the muscle, attached firmly to his frenulum. A piercing? Sanji has a tongue piercing?

He smiled into the kiss, feeling your shock as you brushed your tongue with his. He retracted the muscle from your mouth and began to place rougher kisses, assaulting your lips while raking his fingers through your hair and cradle your head further against his own. He rotated his head to continue the deep and rough engagement, prompting a whimper-like moan to fall from your lips in response.

As he remained reclined against the table, you wavered in your mind how much more adrenaline you could spike into his bloodstream to elevate his heartbeat further. Deciding to not withhold your ministrations; you pulled yourself further against his hips and hooked your right leg over his left and guide his left hand from your hair to wrap around your thigh. A groan fell from his lips as he reclined against the table further, unbreaking the kiss from your lips as he eagerly began to support your weight against him with fervour.

He pulled his other hand from your hair as you laced your hands behind his neck to hold him further into yourself. Just as you tilted your head and made to rake your fingers into his hair while he reached down to grip the back of your other thigh to hoist you up against himself fully; the egg-timer began to rattle and shake, alerting you the duration of the kiss was to be drawn to a close.

The low groan released from Sanji’s lips followed by a whimper as you began to pull yourself away from him was as delicious as the meals he would readily present to you, filling you completely with his unbridled need being absolutely met by your body.

“Please-,” he cried his protestation and need for you softly as you made to break from his lips, “please I need more.”

You smiled while he chased you with his lips as you pulled away from him, unlacing your leg from circling his hip and pulled your arms around his shoulders. You pressed your hand to rest against his chest, feeling the rapid pace pummelling harshly at his breastbone, pushing him away with a gentle but firm touch.

“You can have more,” you cooed at him, looking down through your eyelashes to see his desperation on full display over his face; his breath unevenly falling from his mouth, “in an hour and twenty minutes, before dinner.”

“For how long, then?” He gasped, moving his hands from your hips to lace his fingertips within your own, “surely not just for one and a half minutes.”

You giggled at him, looking at the beautiful picture you had painted on the man of a canvas before you: his eyes blown out with lust and desire, his heart beating with the rapidity of an over-excited puppy anticipating its first treat, his lips bruised from the prior collision against your own.

“You are out of breath,” you nodded to him, gesturing to his lips with your chin, “you have a spike of adrenaline, gathered by how rapid your heart was beating just now,” you rubbed your thumb to circle over his own, “and hopefully the kiss gave you as much of a rush of endorphins as it did me,” you giggled with a nod, taking your bottom lip between your teeth.

He nodded, looking down at the ground with a small smile tugging at his slightly swollen lips.

“Thank you for helping me with breaking my addiction, and,” he murmured, bringing your hands upwards to brush his lips against every digit; paying them all as much attention as the other with his lips, breaking only to utter; “for helping me restore my palate. I’m going to look forward to receiving my next hit from you.”

You felt a small rush of butterflies falling over your chest as he bore a wide grin against your knuckles.

“Okay, chef,” you said, releasing your hands from his and bringing your right hand up to caress his cheek, brushing your thumb over his lips to tenderly sooth them, “let’s go bring the captain his second afternoon tea.”

“Oui, mademoiselle,” he groaned, pressing a small and playful kiss against the pad of your thumb, prompting a small whimper to fall from your own lips this time; a smirk readily rising to his cheeks as he took the balled piercing from beneath his tongue and twirled it against his teeth absent mindedly.

Part 2

#one piece #opla #opla fic #x reader #one piece live action #sanji opla #black leg sanji #sanji fic #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #sanji

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uglypastels · 7 months

Note

okok I've had this idea brewing in my filthy mind for a few days so imagine sanji discovering camgirl! Strawhat reader and becomes kinda obsessed?? Maybe one day she wears something of his(maybe a ring or his shirt) live and he goes absolutely feral and has his way with her??😵😵💫

I took out the camgirl aspect because I just wasn't sure how to incorporate it into the universe?? (I'm still new to it, so trying to figure out the dos and don'ts haha.) but I hope it's still good.

masterlist | inbox - requests open

reminder that reblogs and comments are the best way to support writers on Tumblr

warning: 18+ content. MDNI. simp sanji. masturbation. suggestive language and actions. light biting.

Laundry Day.

'Can someone remind me again whose brilliant idea it was to fight the giant squid?' You looked down at yourself, stiff as a board, as you felt every inch of your body to be sticky with black ink.

When you looked up again, the rest of the crew had all found a sudden interest in the most mundane parts of the ship, not daring to meet your deadly glare.

'Thought so,' you mumbled. 'I'm gonna go change.' Awkwardly, you made your way downstairs to the bathroom to try and wash off the black goo the sea monster had spewed onto you. You scrubbed for what felt like an hour, with the stains just never seeming to seize. The water poured down your body, slowly turning from a black abyss into a drabby grey until it finally recovered to its natural clear state, and the smell of fish was exchanged for your hair conditioner and body scrub.

stupid. fucking. squid. You kicked around your thoughts as you got out of the shower, nearly falling over in the process.

Too tired to cross the ship to your room, you instead walked to the small laundry cabin that was next to the bathroom and picked up the first pair of shorts you found and a button-up shirt to throw on.

You had thought it was one of yours, always being fond of having some larger piece of attire to throw over a short sleeve, but you soon realised your mistake when you entered the kitchen.

Sanji was in the middle of setting some water to boil, glancing up at you from his work with a soft smile. That smile then quickly froze in what you could only describe as a shock.

'I know I look like a mess,' you sighed, reaching over to the cupboard where the crew kept their hardest liquor. The day just called for a shot. Or three.

'Not the words I would use.' Sanji said, the clicking of the gas stove intercepting him, 'Is that- is that my shirt?'

You glanced down, noticing the blue striped pattern on the material and the actual tailoring of the shirt as opposed to the ones you were used to wearing.

You cursed under your breath. 'Sorry. I'll go change.' You began unrolling the sleeves, already seeing how they started to crease.

'No,' Sanji coughed out. 'It's fine. Honestly.'

'You sure?' You looked up at him apprehensively, but he just shrugged and continued on cooking.

You poured yourself a drink and made yourself comfortable opposite Sanji, enjoying the show that was his meal prep.

'Where's everyone else?' you asked as he began chopping up vegetables.

'Uhm, probably sleeping off the squid,' he chuckled, focused on the ingredients. As he kept going, you realised his answers kept getting shorter and shorter with each question. What usually would be full of quips and flirtatious remarks was cut down, blunt, like the edge of a dull knife.

And at first you had brushed it aside as him concentrating on his craft, but the longer he cooked, the more noticeable it was how he avoided your gaze. Even when talking, he didn't dare look up.

'Are you really ok with me wearing this?' You asked eventually when he was done and washing his hands in the sink.

'Of course, darlin',' he wiped his hands on a towel. He was about to turn around, but you saw the moment as your chance and swiftly slithered by his side. He stumbled back slightly in surprise.

'So why have you been ignoring me for the past hour?'

'I haven't,' he slipped by you elegantly and got to packing up the prepared food into storage boxes.

'But you have-- you didn't even look at me until now.'

'Sorry, sweetheart. I was working.' Usually, his saying something like that would make you think things were back to normal, but he seemed nervous, and before you could say anything else, he excused himself to his cabin.

Confused and a bit flustered at the sudden departure, you stood in the kitchen for a moment. You had planned on going upstairs, to get some fresh air, when Luffy stormed into the room.

'Ah!' he exclaimed, 'glad to see you're back to your ink-free self.'

'Yeah, thanks, Luf.' You took another shot quickly and watched as the captain raided all the cupboards. 'Watcha looking for there?'

'The tangerine cookies that Sanji made yesterday. There should still be some here.' He stretched his arm out to pat around the back of the highest drawer.

'You sure you didn't eat them yet?'

'Nooo,' Luffy looked at you sternly. 'Because I put them there specifically so I wouldn't eat them earlier.'

'Right,' you nodded. 'Well, Sanji had been busy around here, prepping lunch for tomorrow; maybe he moved some things around,' you suggested. 'You could go and ask him.'

'Aaah, I could,' Luffy wavered, 'but I was hoping to do this without Sanji's help.'

'Did he ban you from the kitchen again?' After the last incident of Lufft stuffing himself full of snacks right before dinner, the cook had given him strict orders not to eat an hour before meals. Looking at the clock, you could see it was closing in on dinner time.

Luffy scoffed, which only confirmed your assumptions. With a sigh, you got up. 'Fine, I'll ask him. But he might be asleep, you know.'

'Thanks. You're the best.' Luffy said, arm the length of the room as he opened cupboard after cupboard. You just rolled your eyes and made your way to Sanji's cabin.

'Hey, Sanji,' you knocked softly, unsure if he had maybe decided to take a nap. With no response from the other side of the door, you tried again. You thought to just let it go and leave him be, but then you heard the clashing of the pans in the kitchen, followed by a Luffy 'I'm ok!' and knew that you needed an answer for your captain. These were desperate times.

'Hey, Sanji,' you opened the door. The only thing you had really seen was the shape of his body splayed out on the bed, and it was more of an instinct or a gut reaction that told you that you should not look any further. So, quickly apologising, you shut the door again as Sanji cursed out in shock at the door opening.

'Sorry!' You shouted through the door, simultaneously trying to comprehend the blurs of your vision and trying to forget anything you might have seen. He wasn't... no, that wasn't... no.

There was some stumbling coming from his room, followed by a few more curse words. You didn't know why you were still standing beside his door, but he certainly didn't expect you to have stayed there, and so, when he entered the corridor, your bodies practically collided.

'I didn't see anything!' You blurted out before Sanji could say anything. Both your faces were wide in horror. 'I swear- I just,' you made the mistake of taking his appearance in. His shirt was untucked from his trousers, belt unbuckled and hanging at his sides. Oh god. 'I just... I was wondering where the tangerine cookies were. The ones you made yesterday.'

He was still hard. Most of it was hidden by the layers of clothing, but there was no denying it. You did your best to keep your eyes on his face as he listened to you blurt out words like a maniac, but it sure was difficult as all the puzzle pieces came together.

'They should be in the left cabinet, bottom shelf. Behind the baking ingredients. I hid them so Luffy wouldn't eat them before dinner.'

'Good thinking,' you laughed, probably a bit too loud for the situation, but the nerves were getting worse by the second. 'Well, bye then.' And with that, you ran off to the kitchen, leaving Sanji in all his unspeakable glory behind.

In the kitchen, you were met with Luffy picking up the pans he had dropped and Nami looking at him with what could only be described as disappointment. Without acknowledging them, you walked over to the left cabinet, opened the bottom half of it and searched the bottom shelf for the box of leftover cookies, slamming them onto the counter. Luffy immediately lunged forward to them, oblivious to your shocked state, but the navigator was a bit more perceptive.

'What happened to you?' she asked, declining the offer of a cookie from the captain, who already had two in his mouth.

'Nothing,' you shook your head.

'You look like you've seen a ghost.'

'I didn't! I didn't see anything!' Nope, nothing at all. You definitely did not see that. Or how big it was... or how his hand looked wrapped around it... or his face when he- NO.

'Hey, is that Sanji's shirt?' Now, Luffy decided to be observant. You looked down at your shirt as if you had only now noticed what you were wearing.

'Oh, I guess it is.'

'He must be having a field day with that,' Nami snickered, to which you looked at her confused. She, in turn, rolled her eyes 'Like you haven't seen the way he looks at you on a regular day.'

'I- no?' you blinked, trying to grapple with what she was talking about.

Nami just shrugged before grabbing the last cookie from Luffy's hand and walking out of the room. If you thought he would be aware of anything that you had just talked about, you would have asked the captain if he knew what Nami meant by her comments but instead just contemplated on it all by yourself.

Against all your survival instincts, you walked back in the direction of Sanji's door and knocked again. This time loud and clear. There was shuffling coming from the other side, and a second later, the door opened to reveal Sanji. His lips were pulled in a tight line of a smile as he looked down at you.

'Hey, can I come in?' you asked softly.

'What?' Sanji asked before the initial question properly connected in his mind. 'Uhh, I don't think that's a great idea.'

'Sanj, we should talk about what happened earlier.'

'Do we, though?' His voice raised in pitch nervously, but you just glared up at him, unimpressed.

'Sanji, please just let me come inisde.' You pushed out any thought that just burst through your mind that did not have to do with the current situation, but it was hard to see the images of what you saw in his room before were still very much playing over and over in your head.

In the end, Sanji gave in and opened the door for you. As you walked in, he stayed behind you, hand running nervously through his hair, as he spoke: 'Listen, I'm really sorry about... everything that happened today, really.'

'You have nothing to be sorry for.' You turned to face him. 'I'm the one that stole your shirt and stormed into your room unannounced.' It was his room. He had the right to do whatever he pleased in it.

Sanji laughed awkwardly, looking away to the far side of the room, but even then, you caught how his eyes glanced and slightly lingered over your body. The blue-striped shirt still hanging over it.

You, in the meantime, fought the urge to look at his body, combined with the memory of what you had caught him doing.

Maybe it was the few shots you had taken earlier to forget about the giant squid attack that instead did nothing you had hoped for but only made you bolder as you asked: 'were you thinking about me?'

'What?'

'You know, earlier. When I walked in. Were you... thinking of me?'

'Shit, don't make me say it.' He combed his fingers through his hair. You walked over to him, closing the gap between you lightly.

'Why not?'

'Because I don't want to make things weird between us.' His jaw clenched as you came towards him, and you couldn't help but laugh at what he had to say.

'Oh, it's definitely too late for that now. Things are already weird.'

'Super weird, aren't they?' he asked softly, strangely intensely.

And so, when you responded, your agreeing words were only as hushed as he had been, too focused on each other's proximity. The two of you stood there, frozen between actions, taking each other's bodies in at the new lack of distance until Sanji took the final step over the edge, kissing you with his hands on cupping your cheeks.

You stumbled back at the force, steadying yourself when you caught onto the shirt he was wearing. One of his hands moved down to your waist, guiding you to his bed until the back of your knees hit the wood, and you lightly fell back.

Sanji placed himself over you, and as his weight pressed over you, you could feel his hard-on through his trousers. A curse fell from his lips when you reached for it and your fingertips moved over the material.

'You've been drivin' me insane the whole day, walkin' around in that shirt.' He said as he began leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

'Figured,' you couldn't but be a bit smug about it, which he did not seem to appreciate given the pinch of his teeth you felt on your sensitive skin.

You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him even closer to you, trying to get some, friction out of the movement as he pressed himself against you.

'Cocky are we?' He smiled into his kisses, and at this point, all you could do was nod in agreement.

Sanji kept himself up over you with one hand as he used the other to unzip your shorts. One-handed and without a clear view, taking them off turned out to be a bit more of a challenge, far more awkward than expected when you tried to shuffle out of them, but his touch on your skin made up for it by tenfold.

You were about to make a start on unbuttoning the shirt you were wearing when Sanji stopped you. 'No, keep it on.' and kissed you before you could make any other snarky remark on his behalf. But when he pulled away again, though slightly dazed by the passion, you still managed to comment.

'If this is the treatment I receive for stealing your clothes, I might just do it more often.'

To this, Sanji groaned through his teeth. 'You're gonna be the death of me, sweetheart, I swear.

#sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji smut #sanji fluff #sanji fic #one piece fanfiction #fanfiction #smut #fluff #fic #request

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gingernut1314 · 2 months

Text

Just For One Dance

Sanji x GN!Reader

Summary: You didn't smile. Didn't laugh. Didn't dance. But when you do, you become Sanji's whole world.

Warnings: Fluffff, some angst, Spoilers for the anime (Alabasta Arc)

Word Count: 1.1K

Song:

September - Instrumental

A/N: I've had this little idea for a whileeee now, and I've been itching to write it, so I hope you all enjoy!!! 🩷🩷🩷

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It was as if the moon had carved itself onto your lips. So bright and shining with a celestial glow that was otherworldly.

You were smiling.

You were smiling and it was making it hard for Sanji to breathe.

The cigarette he had lit seconds ago fell from his lips as he watched you tilt your head up to the sky, arms spread so you could feel every last droplet of rain upon your skin. Tears rolled over the flushed rounds of your cheeks, a laugh bordering on a sob falling from those grinning lips of yours.

Your laugh--your laugh.

It was a sound sweeter than honey--richer than the smoothest chocolate. It was a sound that was engraving itself into Sanji’s very mind. One he would not easily forget.

Sanji had known you for a short while now. Had known you ever since the protection of Vivi had been passed from the recently deceased Igaram onto you.

He knew you were a serious, honor and duty-driven warrior. Knew you didn’t seek any of life's pleasures out for yourself, putting your duties and princess above all else.

He knew that included any of the special treats or drinks he made for you and the ladies of his crew. Included the simple act of partaking in conversion outside of snapping words at his crew whenever they grew too careless around your princess. Words Sanji himself had been bitten by more times than he could count on both hands for even trying to make a conversion with you.

Sanji knew you didn’t laugh. Didn’t joke. Didn’t cry or get upset for yourself. Didn’t smile.

He had wanted to change that ever since he had first laid eyes on you at Little Garden after you had someone managed to track your princess down.

He had wanted to bring you joy. Had wanted to try and ease that pain and strife waging a war in your eyes.

He had learned from Vivi what had happened to your family. Your mother and baby sister had been killed during a rather horrid sandstorm. Your father, after joining the royal guard, had been killed in battle. Your brother, very shortly after joining the rebel forces currently opposing Vivi and her father, had been killed during a raid.

Yet you stayed steady in your loyalty to Vivi, who had become your friend and given you sanctuary as her handmaiden as well as the opportunity to train with Igaram. Yet you sought nothing out for yourself, always giving and protecting.

So Sanji did what he could to make you feel appreciated. He made sure your meals were prepared with the utmost care and packed with all the protein and nutrients you needed. Made sure to bring you water after hours of sitting in the sun and training. Sanji even tried his hand at downplaying his flirting. At just sitting with you in your silence and even throwing you the occasional joke just so he could see you crack the smallest of smiles.

It never worked of course. You were a steadfast warrior, one whose serious nature rivaled that of the Straw Hats’ own warrior.

But here you were, smiling as the rain-soaked you to the bone. Smiling and laughing and crying for your country which had faced so much hardship.

And when you turned that smile onto Sanji, his heart stopped. His brain stopped. The soft hush of the rainfall around them and the voices of his crew fell away until all he could hear was you.

He watched you approach him with a carefulness he wanted to tell you wasn’t needed, but his throat had run dry--words catching and faltering under your stunning beauty.

A calloused strong yet gentle hand smoothed over his, slowly interlocking fingers in a soft hold. Some semblance of sense came back to Sanji then, his fingers tightening their hold around your hand and feet moving him closer into your joy-filled presence.

“Dance with me?” You asked, eyes turning away from his in yet another emotion you had yet to gift him. Shyness.

“I thought you didn’t dance?” Sanji teased, leaning ever closer.

He wanted to be near you--needed to be near you. It was a feeling so strong it had a hold on his physical body.

You rolled your eyes at his tease, but that smile never once drooped.

“I told you I wouldn’t dance with you until the rains fell for my home again.” You said, voice cracking in your over-flowing happiness. Your light-filled eyes glanced upward once more, your smile only growing. “I could be mistaken, but I believe it’s raining now.” Sanji’s own laugh flew from his chest, gaining those watery, joy-filled eyes once more.

“I believe it is.” He pulled you carefully against his body, his own hand guiding yours to lay on his shoulder.

“I must warn you though. I am a horrid dancer.” You laughed in that silvery way of yours, pulling your body flush against Sanji’s. “I am but a lowly soldier.”

“And I am but a lowly pirate. What brilliant dance partners will we make for each other.” You watched Sanji was a long moment. Watched him as your eyes softened and your smile grew warm. A softness and warmth meant only for him. Warmth that wormed its way into Sanji’s heart and would stay there until death was kissing his brow.

Just as Sanji’s hand found purchase on the small of your back, the voice of your princess came floating closer. A voice that had your smile faltering and that seriousness filling your eyes. You were going to leave him just as he had been gifted your smile and laughter and joyous brightness.

Sanji held you closer against his body--leaned in closer so that his nose was just a breath away from kissing your own. Your eyes widened and that shyness Sanji had instantly loved upon its first arrival bloomed over your face.

“Let's be selfish. Just for one dance.” You blinked at him. And blinked and Sanji was sure you would pull away from him.

“Just for one dance.” You agreed, your smile growing once more and setting Sanji’s heart ablaze.

The rain was your music and the beat of your heart against his guide.

You may have been true to your word about your dancing abilities, but it hardly mattered to Sanji. Not when you hooked your arms around his neck, resting your forehead against his. Not when your smell, like the very rains falling around you, filled his nose and sent his head spinning. Not when after moments of lovely quiet in each other's arms, you showed him one last gift.

You gifted him a kiss. A smiling kiss he was more than eager to gift right back.

Tags: @fanaticsnail , @lostfirefly

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cerisefait · 5 months

Text

Food Critic

sanji x reader

[2.4k words] [I'm working on the second part!! stay tuned]

a/n: hii! this is my first sanji fiction, hope you enjoy it. I would love to hear your thoughts about it and my reqs are open. there aren't any trigger or spoiler warnings on this fic.

summary: food critic reader goes to Baratie to enjoy a nice evening and analyze the restaurant without knowing what awaits her; a couple of romantic moments with the sous chef of the restaurant. 'apologies madam' scene included with slight changes and much more...

‘I’m going to be the greatest food critic of all time!’

The phrase echoed in your head as you stood outside the restaurant on water, otherwise known as ‘Baratie’. Ever since you were a little kid, you had one particular dream: To become one of the most respected food critics alive.

In a world full of pirates and bounty hunters, some may say your goal was boring, ordinary. Rather than fighting sea creatures and thieves, you were going from one restaurant to another, tasting all of their signature dishes; taking notes about the flavors in your mouth and the emotions each dish has brought you.

Don’t they say to follow your passion? Food has always been yours. You never saw it as a ‘boring’ task, you were enthusiastic about it.

It all started when you were a little kid; you sat there in the kitchen, watching your grandmother cook delicious smelling meals. To you, those were the best times of your childhood. Watching her skilfully chop up the vegetables, hearing the simmering pots, seeing the baked goods rise in the oven…

All of it brought you a sense of comfort. As you grew older, she allowed you to help her in the kitchen, teaching you each spice and many knife tricks.

When she sadly passed away, you were only 12. Needless to say she was your favorite relative, you made her a promise at her funeral, to learn the dishes all across the four seas.

It was her dream but when she started a family, she had to quit pursuing her goal. So you took it upon you and made her a vow in which you don't intend on breaking.

***

Once you stepped into the restaurant, you found yourself admiring the interior. Baratie’s ambiance was astonishing. You’ve been in many restaurants overseas but this place was nothing like you’ve ever seen before.

The open floor plan made the place look elegant. The choices of colors maroon, beige and wooden brown added more to the elegant look as well as the wrought iron handrails on the balconies of the second floor. The lightning was dim and there wasn’t much sunlight due to the lack of windows; it made the restaurant more alluring and mysterious.

While you were busy observing the interior, one of the hosts of the restaurant greeted you, saying

‘Welcome to Baratie, how can I help you?’

‘I would like to have a seat.’ you said, looking kindly at the man.

‘Do you have a reservation ma’am?’ He said, looking at you then directing his attention to the line behind you that had just been formed.

‘No, I don’t have one. Would it be a problem?’ You asked, batting your eyelashes. You weren’t the most experienced critic considering your age but you knew how to use your charm to get what you wanted.

He quickly looked down at the tables, searching for an available spot. There were some empty tables but looking at his attitude, you can tell that the restaurant didn’t want just any customer: Especially the ones who who looked like they could easily stir some trouble up. Lucky for you, you knew how to clean up nicely.

‘Normally, we’re very full today but we’ll be making an exception for you ma’am. If you’ll follow me...’

You followed him down the stairs just like he asked you to and he led you to your table. When you sat down, you sank into the velvety cushion of the dark red booth.

‘Here is the menu. Your waiter will be with you shortly.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

You began to wait for your waiter, as you were told. The antique table lamp’s soft yellow light reflected on your face while you listened to the background noise: Classy jazz, waiters rushing in and out of the kitchen, customers’ enjoying their dishes while chatting and clinking their glasses of wine…

Everything seemed peaceful until you heard the yelling noise coming from the kitchen. You directed your gaze towards the kitchen door, curious about what’s happening inside. Seconds after that, you saw a tall blonde man get out of the kitchen, looking annoyed as he quickly wore his jacket.

He stopped by a table full of appetizers and got a plate in his hand, holding it up to carry it around the tables.

Just as he was making his way to a nearby table, a fight seemed to occur right in front of him. Two guys were fighting over the table, the one already sitting at the table claiming it is his right to sit on the table, the other telling the opposite.

They began to talk more aggressively and one of them threw a plate of food that was sitting on the table as the blonde man stopped in front of them flashing a smile, saying

‘Now now, gentleman. You know the rules here, we don’t waste food. And there’s no fighting at Baratie.’

They didn’t seem to care about the blonde as they continued their bickering. He offered to pour them each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein, free of charge in hopes of stopping the chaos which was disturbing the other customers.

They seemed to like the idea at first, but that didn’t stop one of them from pulling his gun out only a few seconds later. The blonde was quick, just as he saw the gun he kicked the guy’s hand and sent it flying straight to the floor. He blew a few more kicks and in a blink of an eye, the two customers were laying on the ground.

After the fast paced sequence, he didn’t change his calm and -more so- annoyed attitude one bit. He took his appetizer plate back in his hand, let out a sigh and proceeded to walk away exclaiming

‘No cause for alarm, folks. Please enjoy your meals.’

Then, he walked straight to your table while being busy eyeing other tables. Without paying attention to your face or your figure, the words fell quickly from his lips.

‘Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. My name is Sanji, what can I get for you?’

‘Shitty ambiance? I couldn't take my eyes off of it ever since I came here.’

Hearing the sound of your voice, he swiftly turned his gaze on you. His expression of annoyance left its place to a more loving, soft look. He ever so slightly tilted his head to the left and put on a little smirk on his face.

‘Apologies madam, didn’t see you there.’

The tone of irritation in his voice was completely gone and now it was much more... suave.

‘You’re liking the ambiance eh? Can’t say the same about the second part ‘cuz you’ll be the only thing I can’t take my eyes off of tonight.’

You did not expect the bold flirtatious act nor the quick word play from him. Given that he caught you off guard, you were thankful for the dim lights as you felt your cheeks getting warmer. As you remained silent, he continued

‘Will you care for an aperitif to start? Or maybe a beverage. We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock…’

‘Actually, I would love to have a glass of Umeshu.’

‘I should’ve figured. Y’know, something sweet for.. someone sweet.’ He winked as he said the last part. He was shamelessly flirting with you. You turned your head sideways to avoid staring at his eyes for a second.

Normally, it would give you the ick but when he did it, you surprisingly enjoyed it. Say whatever you want; whether it’s his amazing kicking abilities, how he looks in his suit or his flirtatious personality, you can’t stop yourself from having butterflies in your stomach.

‘Anything else, madam?’

‘I also would like to order every one of your special dishes, could you do that for me?’

‘...Anything for you. Coming right away.’ He flashed you a smile before returning to the kitchen.

***

When he came back with the plates, you were starving. All of them looked amazing as he put them in front of you in a professional manner.

The waiter who greeted you didn’t lie when it came to the restaurant being busy. There were new customers coming in and out every other minute and it looked like they were short on staff tonight.

Just as he was going to strike up a conversation with you, one of the customers from a nearby table called him up. Sanji told you to enjoy your meal, excused himself and cursed to himself under his breath, hating that the precious time you could’ve spent together was going to be wasted.

When Sanji left, you started with one of the most appealing dishes: It was a buttery seafood sauté with complimentary herbs, garlic and spices. The way the flavors danced on your tongue left you speechless.

In order to note it all down in your notebook, your eyes searched for the restroom. While you were looking around, you locked eyes with Sanji.

He immediately flashed you a genuine, warm smile. You returned his smile by squinting your eyes slightly and smiling back at him, before mouthing the words ‘Where’s the restroom?’

He couldn’t (or maybe wanted to make it seem like he couldn’t) understand what you just said as he put the plates on one of the tables he was attending and made his way up to you.

When you saw him coming, you stood up and went up to him with your small bag in hand. You met in the middle and as he saw you standing, he couldn’t help but check you out from head to toe, taking his sweet time. His warm smile turned into an arrogant grin which meant he enjoyed the sight.

‘Yes madam?’ he asked, leaning slightly towards you.

‘Where can I find the restroom?’

‘Oh it’s right this way… Can I?’ He swiftly gestured to your arm. You nodded, eyes wider than usual, as he took your arm with one of his hands, lightly touched your shoulder with his other hand and turned you around.

Your breath hitched in your throat, his intoxicating smell filling up your nose as he stood right behind you. He was being careful, not to step on any boundaries.

‘So, you go straight ahead. Then turn to your left, first door to the right.’ He pointed out.

You turned your head towards him, only to realize there are a few inches between your faces. Looking up at him, you stared at his gorgeous features. At that moment, everything around you seemed to slow down. When his gaze finally met yours, you were mesmerized.

His blue eyes were shining, the way his lips curled upwards to form his pretty smile was stunning. Feeling the heat his body radiated was enough to drive you over the edge… But you were here to pursue your goal.

In order to continue the task at hand, you whispered him a thank you and went flying to the restroom. Luckily there was a table with decorations in between the sinks, giving you a place to write your notes down on.

***

Time seemed to pass by quickly as you were going back and forth between your table and the restroom. You were trying to be smooth with it but you weren't exactly acting like a professional.

Not that you were being clumsy or carefree, you were a bit amateur. Considering your age, it was understandable.

Plus, the blonde who was gazing at you all night didn't help at all. It was fun though, catching his glances every now and then, seeing his little smirk form up every time you made eye contact (occasionally with a wink), made you feel things.

You couldn't help but to think that you didn't want the night to end here. You wanted more than secret glances and formal discussions…

Just as you finished taking notes about the last dish and made your way back to your table, Sanji stopped you in your tracks, pulling you flush against his chest and moving you both to a near dark corner, trapping your body against his and the wall behind you.

Taking a step back, he looked you in the eyes, searching for a sign of distress or unwillingness.

Upon seeing the pure shock on your face turn into a more relieved look, he leaned towards you, a hand pressed against the wall over your shoulder, right next to your head.

'You a food critic?' He questioned, leaning over.

'Why do you care, waiter boy?' He put his hand on his heart, grimacing his face upon hearing your words.

'I am the sous chef of this restaurant.'‘

‘It didn't seem like it.’

‘Don't try to change the subject now, love.’ He looked deeply in your eyes, it was evident that he was growing impatient.

‘Fine, I am… but you can't tell anyone about it.’

‘Why not? You don't seem to care as you made it pretty obvious.’

‘I want to remain anonymous to be respected. Also, I don't think anyone other than you’ve noticed.’

‘Told you that I wasn't going to be able to take my eyes off of you tonight… I am a man of my word.’

And with that, both of you were laughing. It was a moment of pure sweetness. After a few seconds of the sound of your laughter filling up the empty corner, you continued with a serious tone:

‘Just… promise not to tell anyone.’

‘How about we make a deal, eh? I’ll keep your secret and we’ll have dinner tomorrow.’

‘...It’s not like I have another choice. Right?’

‘C’mon, we both know you want it as bad as I do.’

‘Keep dreaming.’ You said, making your way back to your table.

He didn’t expect you to react this way, when he saw you leaving his side he turned around, looking at you like a lost puppy. You wanted to shock him for a little bit, make him chase after you.

As you sat down, you drank your last sip of wine and took your sweet time before calling Sanji to pay the bill. He immediately went to get the bill and put it in front of you, still shaken. You checked it out, put the money in and thanked him for his service.

He was standing still in front of you as you gathered your things and got up off of the booth. Then, he hesitantly offered you his hand to give your hand a quick goodbye kiss.

You put your hand in his and said:

‘Meet me up at 7?’

He changed his posture, he was more confident now than heartbroken and gave your hand a swift kiss before telling:

‘It’ll be my pleasure.’

#sanji x reader #sanji imagine #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji #sanji fic #one piece sanji #sanji x you #one piece imagine #food critic!reader x sanji #one piece live action #creative writing

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bitchimasnake-sss · 5 months

Note

hello oml i luv ur writing, i’m feeling kind of angsty tonight so i wanted to request a monster trio and fem reader where they get caught cheating and then like beg for her (love when men beg!) but the reader doesn’t take them back >:0

it's the way i know these men will never cheat so i had such a hard fucking time writing this out (hence its trash) but ask and it shall be delivered (can you tell im a people pkeaser? yes or yes?)

also, so sorry it took me forever to write this out!!!

"i wish i never met you" ft. the monster trio!

ft. luffy, zoro, sanji x fem!reader

set-up: angst, thats it thankyou (thanks to anon for the idea!!)

warnings: i tried writing angst (and miserably failed), 'nuff said; also loads and loads of cursing im sorry (also couldn't write anything for sanji im so sorry)

luffy:

- "luffy?" your voice comes out as a meek whisper, blending into the night air as you see your boyfriend kissing another woman's neck in the middle of the bar - to be fair, you were on a break. you had asked him for some space but that was less than 24 hours ago and now you saw the captain of your crew entertaining a woman in his lap - "yn?" his eyes dart over to you and there's heavy guilt in his voice but you're turning away, walking away from the man you had come to win back he's running after you, his hands outstretched to catch you in your stride - "yn" he says again as he turns you to face him - a faint humming and thumping ran rampant against your cranium, visioning blurring, throat constricting till every breath felt like concrete against your burning chest - he looked guilty. the usually happy-go-lucky man seemed as though he was about to fall apart. his eyes were wide, laced with vague uncertainty and fear; his voice trembled, words faltering at the tip of his tongue as if a cursed melody - "i cannot believe you, luffy" your voice kissed your ears in a tremble as you're surprised that you can still speak, "fuck, i mean i thought you fucking loved me?" "it's not what- i do. i do, i love you." he sucks in a breath, eyes closing with great strain, "yn, its not. it's ussop, he suggested-" - ussop "suggested"???? "are you for real?" you scoff and feel the soft tears cascade down your cheeks, "ussop said shit and you decided to go fuck some random fucking woman?" - you're turning your back at him again but he pulls you towards him till your face is against his chest and his fingers interweave with your hair; you shouldn't like this. you shouldn't relish in his familiar warmth and smell and you shouldn't want to hug him when he presses a chaste kiss against your temple. you shouldn't listen to him when he says "trust me, i love you so much please" - he cheated on you, godfuckingdammit. - and he saw no problems with it till you showed up and caught him in his little fucking act. - he doesn't get to cheat on you a day after you guys went on break and then fucking have the audacity to hold you close to him as if the blood wasn't on his hands, as if he wasn't the one ruining it all. - as if he wasn't the one planning to fuck a woman tonight and return to your warm embrace tomorrow as if it never happened. - "let me go" your voice was eerily calm against his futile apologies "what? yn, no, it was a kiss i promise just one fucking ki-" "luffy, let go." - so he did - your vision blurred, your breath hitched and you walked away. you walked away from arms that had been your home on cold mornings, from eyes that traced over your face with love, from that faint smell of coconuts and a bright smile. - how can you be homesick when he was the one who wrecked it all? - but he let you go, so, you walked away.

zoro:

- somehow, you saw it all play out and now here you were, looking like the fool - fuck, how naïve were you? didn't you notice it when his touches became faint, his hands only finding yours if he had to fuck out some frustrations; his smiles became a rare occurrence. didn't you notice when he relied more on a bottle of sake than you? so fucking naïve. - you couldn't stand this party. all your friends were busy mingling with the other pirate fleet and your boyfriend had disappeared an hour into this stupid event (maybe he was passed out somewhere after drinking too much), so what were you to do except escaping into your room and spending the night away all alone? - but you could hear moaning from outside the door, faint screeches and curses. but most importantly, you could hear your own boyfriend's voice repeating the same phrases so sacred to you - opening the door with the key you had, you walked into the scene - the blood rushed into your ear and suddenly every little jolt of the sunny made you feel like you would throw up. the world swayed under your feet as you took in the tangle of limbs that lay in front of you - "zo? zoro?" "yn- fuck, what the fuck" he was frozen, the other woman covering herself in your sheets, snuggling against your boyfriend in your room. - you were gonna be fucking sick. - "yn, what are you- doing here, i-" his voice trembled, eyes darting between you and the floor, avoiding your scorching gaze. - "are you fucking kidding me?" to your surprise, a small laugh escaped you despite the shock and the dew clinging onto your lashline. you repeated, as if unaware you had already spoken once, "you have to be fuckin' kidding me, fucking christ zoro." "i can expain, ple-" he got off the bed, putting on his pants and the other woman used the opportunity to pick up her dress and slip out "explain? explain to me how you fucked that woman?" you seethed, the words lingering on your tongue like a bitter aftertaste. - his hands over his eyes, he paced around, "yn just lis-" "no fucking go ahead." the tear streaks glided past your cheek, burning as they dripped off your chin and onto the hardware flooring, "explain to me how you fucked her, did you do it the same way you fuck me? was it good? did she-" - his tone shifted, as if resentment deep within boiled to the surface, "why do you fucking care now? huh?" "why dO I CARE? ZORO CAN YOU HEAR YOURSELF? YOU FUCKED ANOTHER WOMAN RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME AND-" "AND WHAT?" his voice softened when you flinched at the sudden high tone, "and fucking what yn? i've been nothing but fucking miserable and you could barely notice" "I DID NOTICE. I DID FUCKING NOTICE AND WH-what- i tried everything. i tried to make you happy but you being miserable was enough reason for you to ch- fucking cheat on me?" your voice trembled, tears pouring down and chest heaving. - as if the gravity of the situation weighed in on his all at once, his face contorted till all he could display was sheer, stark guilt "i- fuck" he took a step towards you, arm outstretched as if to pull you towards him - but you took a step back - "yn" he whispered, "i dont know why i- fuck, why did i fucking do that? im sorry, listen to me im sorry-" "you're sorry?" you scoffed, "take that sorry and shove it up your fucking ass" - with that, you were gone. finding yourself back at the party, gulping down pint after pint of booze till you woke up with a hammering headache and a pair of foreign arms wrapped around your torso - and when you turned to look at it, you missed the familiar green locks of hair - but fuck roronoa zoro, right?

sanji:

- im so so so so so sorry but i cannot write anything for this man. if he's with you, he's down bad.

#one piece #opla #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #op #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece zoro #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #zoro fic #sanji fic #luffy fic #one piece x reader #one piece angst #one piece imagines #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction

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yayakoishii · 6 months

Text

Lucky | Sanji x Chubby!Reader

Fandom: One Piece

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x Chubby! Reader

Could be considered a part 2 to Want but can be read (and is written as a) stand-alone!

Word Count: 1.8k

Genre: Angst, Fluff??

Warnings: Insecurity about stretch marks, mentions of/implications of (but not explicit) sex so Read At Your Own Discretion, low self esteem, etc.

A/n: I'm not the type of person to write about things that are personal to me, tbh, but this idea played around in my head. I know you can have stretch marks from a variety of reasons but I wrote my own, and I would just like to remind everyone that they're normal. You're absolutely gorgeous as you are, my lovelies. I hope you enjoy this little fic ♡

also available on ao3!

Sanji felt like the luckiest man in the entire universe.

When Sanji and you had finally got together, he couldn't believe it. It felt unreal to have you reciprocate his feelings, to have you look at him shyly but with warm eyes that made him feel seen and heard– and he was ready to swear over his life to you, holding back only so as to not freak you out. Unlike his usual grand confessions, you were more important to him, a person he could not even take the risk of driving away. If you found him clingy, or obsessive, and he lost you… somehow, even the thought of that made him feel like someone was stabbing at his heart with a fork, over and over.

And he was ready to take this relationship at your pace. Whatever you were ready to offer him, he would gladly take it. Even if you wanted to wait to have sex until you were married, he would gladly do it simply because he was already head over heels in love with you. It scared him a little, when he was by himself in the confines of dark nights, just how much he was ready to sacrifice for a shred of your pure heart. To have you around him as long as the world would let him… The fact that you never hesitated to showcase your love, though you were shy in public, made his heart soar. He never had to wait for anything – except maybe sex.

The problem though, seemed to be something else.

It's not like you didn't want it. Clearly, going by the number of times the two of you had engaged in heavy make out sessions that seemed to lead towards it eventually, you were as affected by him as he was by you. But everytime that happened, your eyes would suddenly lose their drunken haze and shift back into a sort of nervousness and sadness that made Sanji feel helpless. You would stop after that, drawing back into your shell, wrapping your arms around your body and blocking him out.

He took it easy. Sanji didn't want to push you into talking until you were ready, and he certainly didn't want you to feel that a relationship without sex wasn't on the table. So he waited, giving you time to talk about it yourself; it was no good. If anything, you got quieter over time, hesitating even more around him.

It drove him crazy, and he would have questioned if you truly did like him if it wasn't for the fact that you maintained all other aspects of physical intimacy. There was no hesitation when it came to giving him hugs or kisses or affirmations of how in love you were with him, whenever he felt vulnerable and insecure. And that was what made him wonder; were you struggling with your own insecurities of some sort?

It didn't make sense to him that someone as perfect as you should find anything to fault in yourself, but after all, his lens of love was not to be compared with the harsh critics that were your own eyes and mind. He knew you were hesitant of your own body, its curves and how it was different from the slender figures of the other ladies on board and on land.

In Sanji's eyes, you were perfect as you were– soft and warm in all the right places, with a kind and caring personality. There was nothing about you that he didn't love and nothing that he found ugly, yet he didn't quite know how to make you believe him.

It wasn't even that you hated your body. He had seen you have confidence at times, but he had also seen it waver when it came to rude comments or just general low moods. You had your moments of low self-esteem but even in those moments, Sanji found himself a slave of your beauty. No, a devotee would be a better word. He wanted to worship you and your body as you deserved and yet, all his plans were thwarted every time you stopped in the middle of an escalating make out session to give him a small smile and come up with some random excuse to leave.

You were all that he wanted, and he was determined to let you know just what you looked like through his eyes. Sanji's chance came sooner than he had thought, the very night of when he made the resolution.

You lingered around in the kitchen after dinner, humming a song shyly after Sanji had insisted. When he was done with the dishes, you had helped him put them back despite his protests.

"Join me, my love?" He had asked as the two of you stepped out of the kitchen. He had to lock it and he waited for your answer as he did so. You were silent for a while before you spoke up.

"Oh, Sanji, um," you hesitated, clearly overthinking and worried that if you declined then it would be in bad taste but clearly also hesitant of what he was hoping for. "I, I actually…"

"Nothing that you don't want will happen, sweetheart," Sanji said quietly, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. "I just want to spend some time with you."

"Oh!" You suddenly looked relieved and Sanji's heart clenched. Were you really afraid that he would force you to do something you weren't comfortable with? "Sure Sanji, I would love that too."

He held your hand in his as you walked to his room. Only once you were inside and he had closed the door behind him, did he speak.

"Sweetheart," he called out when you had settled comfortably on his bed. You looked up at him curiously. "Is it okay if I ask you something?"

You were quiet for a second, not unlike how you got when the sexual tension between you would get high. You clearly knew what he was getting to. Sanji waited until you nodded to move in closer to sit across from you.

"I just want to put this on the table before I ask," Sanji searched your eyes for something. "This relationship will always go at your pace. I do not mind waiting as long as you need me to, or even forever, if that is what you want. But what I want is for you to be comfortable and open with me. To tell me if something is bothering you. To be vulnerable with me, because you trust me. Is that alright, my love?"

"Of course, Sanji," you inched closer to him, a hand reaching out to take his. He let you, and brushed his knuckles against the inside of your wrist, watching you squirm at how it tickled.

"Do you not want to have sex with me, sweetheart?" He asked clearly. You flinched at that, and he could see the torment you were facing bubble up to the surface. "It's alright, love. Just tell me what you really think. I understand if I'm not appealing in th–"

"No!" You interrupted, looking at him with a pout. "It's not that. God, Sanji, you drive me insane all the time. I would have to be blind to not appreciate your figure."

"Then is it something else?" He asked seriously, hand now coming up to cup your cheek. You leaned into his touch, giving him a sad smile.

"Of course I want to… do it with you," you flushed, embarrassed at having to say that aloud. "I want it but… I don't want you to see me."

"You don't want me… to see you?" Sanji repeated, unsure of what you meant. Your hand came up to hold his where it rested on your cheek.

"I… have stretch marks," you looked embarrassed. "Maybe it's stupid to you– it probably is, but I know it's not what is considered appealing. I know I'm… not as slender as you might prefer, and I'm just… scared that you would look at me and feel disgusted. Feel like you made a mistake and break us off. I know!" You stressed it when Sanji looked like he was about to say something, "I know that you're kinder than that. But I don't want to lose you. I don't want to see you looking at me with disgust. I don't care about my stretch marks but when I think of you seeing them… I feel like I would rather die."

"Shh," Sanji shook his head, upset at your words. "What are you saying, my love? As if something like that is enough to shake my love for you. I can't even begin to tell you where my love for you begins or where it ends, because it's fathomless and so much that it scares even me. Any marks on your body are a part of you. I'm sure even they are as beautiful as the rest of you."

"Really?" Your voice was meek, wanting reassurance but also not wanting to be burdensome.

"Let me show it to you," he whispered, gently lowering you onto your back. The action made your shirt ride up a little, revealing the white and red marks. You squirmed and raised your head to see what Sanji planned to do.

A gasp left your lips when he placed a soft peck on one, marking the path to the next without lifting his lips. The action tickled you and a warmth pooled into your gut, along with the understanding that Sanji would never be disgusted by you or your marks. He would love every inch of you.

"They are like lightning," he whispered into your skin, warm breath fanning the cool surface, causing you to shiver. "Like pathways mapping the surface of the temple of the goddess I worship. Like waves crashing into the ocean, for me to appreciate, along with every part of you. I could never hate them, or you, sweetheart. Every part of you is meant to be worshipped, to be sung prai–"

"Alright," you choked, feeling overwhelmed. He kissed you in between as he spoke, careful never to move downwards or to make the act sexual. Every part of it felt like he was whispering and etching reminders of his love into your skin, like carefully tucked in notes in the folds of your flesh. "Sanji. Sanji, come up here."

He hovered above you for a few seconds, blue eyes misty with want before he gently lowered himself next to you on his bed. You swallowed the thick lump in your throat as you cupped his cheeks and took in every inch of his face, took in the blonde hair falling into his eye– and couldn't help but think.

"Heavens, I love you more and more each day, Sanji."

Think that contrary to what he believed, the lucky one was actually you.

#one piece #one piece imagines #one piece fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece sanji #op sanji #vinsmoke sanji #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji fic #angst and fluff #insecurities #insecure reader #chubby reader #stretch marks #you're all gorgeous my loves <3

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tinkerbelle05 · 4 months

Note

sanjiiii

How Could You?

Characters: Sanji x Fem!reader

Genre: Angst (Requested) Thanks for the req 🧑‍🍳

Summary: You understand that Sanji is a natural flirt and that’s just how he talks. You are fine with that because that’s his personality but one night he took it too far. You give him the silent treatment as you try to understand your feelings but he keeps pestering you so you snap.

Warnings: Arguments, silent treatments, bad ending, google translations, not edited

Translation: Ma Colombe = My Dove

————————————————————————

You sat in the back of the restaurant, watching Sanji move around the place as a waiter now.

Which meant he probably pissed of Zeff again. The way those two fought and carried on, one would’ve thought they would’ve killed each other by now.

While you felt bad for him because you knew how much he loved cooking and despised waitering, it gave you a good chance to admire him. A chance that often doesn't arise, so of course you didn't waste it.

His beautiful smile, the way he effortlessly slid in between tables, the way he’d make people feel comfortable. In some cases, a bit too comfortable for your liking.

There was this woman, black long hair and sharp green eyes that’s been eyeing Sanji ever since he went to her table. It made you feel a sense of pride that Sanji was so sot after but he’d always return to you at the end of the day.

No matter how much he’d sing their praises, or give out charming smiles. He would also come home to you, and he’d never cross that line.

Until he did. Right in front of you, too.

You were practically seething with anger when you saw how she trailed a finger up his forearm and how he didn’t make a move to stop her. How that same finger traveled up to rest on the back of his neck. They didn’t have to say anything to each other, just the way they looked at each other was enough to have you recoil in absolute disgust and betrayal.

Quickly and quietly you left the restaurant and went to your quarters. It was times like these that made you happy you had a separate bedroom from Sanji. Even though it was mostly used as a storage closet for you stuff, you were still able to sleep and move around comfortablely in it.

Because something told you that you’d be in here for a while after what you just saw.

For sometime, you avoided any and all contact with Sanji. Yes, you knew that it was immature but you didn’t care.

Your heart still hurts when you think about to how he looked at the woman, it was almost lustful. You wondered when was the last time Sanji looked at you like that.

There was a knock on your door, as there always were.

“Darling, please open the door,” Sanji began his daily begging. He’s been at this for a few weeks now.

Everyday after his shift ends, Sanji would rush to your door and begged with everything he had to get you to open the door. To get you to talk to him. There are times when the cracks in his voice makes your resolve falter. Makes you want to open the door and hug him tightly.

But you were still hurting. Still annoyed. Still confused. You had some understanding of how Sanji was. How he’ll use his charm and good lucks to get extra tips, to get people to come back for more. And sometimes, that was just how he was as a person.

So you understood perfectly that most of it was a weird mixture of how he normally acts and was an act in of itself to get more money. You understood perfectly.

Didn’t stop it from hurting though. You felt like someone ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it. You felt like you were being unfair to him. You felt like you were being unfair to yourself. You felt like—

You opened the door. He stood there with his hands in his pockets looking down. Upon hearing the door, he lifted his head.

He’d been crying.

Red, puffy eyes stared back at you. He said nothing, his expression in shock. He quickly sobered up.

“Um,” he scratched the back of his head, “Hello.”

You cleared your throat, “Hi.”

You two stood there at a moment, not saying much of anything. Just staring and waiting. Waiting for someone to say something.

“I’m sorry,” Sanji said suddenly. “I….I’m not sure what I did but—“

“Really?” You gave him an unimpressed look, “You truly don’t know what you did? Why I’m mad at you? You haven’t the slightest clue?”

He swallows nervously and avoids your face. His eyes staring into space, you don’t know what’s going on in his mind. You were about close the door, too tired of this bullshit but he blocks it with his foot.

His hands clenched on the doorframe, he’s leaning towards you, nearly towering over you. Normally, that’ll leave you a blushing mess, and maybe that’s what he’s hoping for, but you just glare up at him. Stepping back a little to create space between you two and he falters.

“Just tell me, already! What did I do? What I have done? Please, ma colombe!” He pressed on.

“How can you not know?! How obtuse do you have to be—", you started to yell but he interrupted you.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake just tell me!” He begged you, his voice cracks. From the way that he's standing, you assumed he'll fall to his knees at any moment.

“You and that woman. The one with black hair, how you were talking to her. Touching her, looking at her. It was…disgusting. You didn’t even have the audacity to be shameful about it.”

He looked confused which quickly transformed into a crude mixture of shock and angry. “Your joking, right? Please, tell me that this is some elaborate prank on me because you can’t seriously be mad at that!”

You glared harder at him, “No! It isn’t a joke. The way you acted hurt me, Sanji. I understand that you act like that, but there are certain lines that you don’t cross.”

“What lines are you—”

“You were about to kiss her! You leaned in and then you stopped yourself. Guess you suddenly remembered you had a girlfriend,” you yelled at him, and the tears were starting to spill again but you had to pull it together.

Sanji stared at you for a while, not saying anything. But the look of realization donned on him and he stepped back.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t think…you saw that,” he fumbled over his words.

You sniffed and looked away from him, you didn't want him to see you crying like this.

“Really? That’s all you have to say?” You questioned him, backing away even more.

He attempt to get closer, you walk backwards until your back is pressed against the wall and you can’t run anymore.

“It didn’t—” he started to say but you stopped him.

“Don’t. Don’t say that you didn’t mean to or that you it was a mistake. I know, I know that you regretted the moment you went close. But….I don’t know. I….I don’t know if I can trust. To not cheat on me. Or have wandering eyes.”

“Ma colombe, I would never. You know all my flirtations are not real. I love you. It’ll always be you, no one else. I swear to you,” he continued to plead with you. He comes closer, until his body pressed against yours and he cups your face so gently. Like your precious jewel to him, he couldn’t afford to break.

But he already broke you.

You looked down instead, you didn’t want to meet his eyes. This was hurting you. This really was. And to say that there was no love between you, would be a lie. But love isn’t enough, not anymore. It can’t fix this. You saw love try to fix your parents’ marriage and that didn’t end well. And you refuse to end up like them.

Your gaze met Sanji’s and you could see the the little hope he had diminished when he saw your expression.

He understood. That is good, it would make this process less painful. He nodded to you and smiled. He kissed you on your lips gently, savoring the taste and feeling one last time. And then he was gone.

————————————————————————

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lawchwan · 19 days

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Hurt Me and Cover Me in Cum, Goddess (sanji)

Summary: You take care of a pathetic Sanji... thats it thats the plot.

Reader: afab Genre: smut Disclaimer: sub!sanji, piv, forced orgasm/overstimulation, cock slapping, hints of worship play, riding, cum play, porn without plot

crossposted on ao3

If anyone were to see Sanji in this state, he won't hear the end of it, and God forbid this scenery has been witnessed by that damn moss head. Sanji would not be left alone and he couldn't even defend himself...

And why should he? He was never ashamed of being submissive to his goddess. Sanji being Sanji, this man loves women, maybe having an interesting way of showing, but there's no denying that he views every woman as a beautiful creature roaming on Earth. But you? If he views Nami and Robin, the two women that he'll drop everything for, as angels, then you were a goddess in the eyes of Sanji Blackleg. and what better way for him to showcase his worship than to drop on his knees for you, wrapping his lean arms around your legs with his hands just inching away from the softness of your ass, his blue eyes gleaming upwards with feigning innocence. His chin is placed in your pelvic bone.

"Please... goddess, I want you so bad..." his voice cracked and broke as he looked at you with pleading, which resulted in the event that occurs now; he’s placed on your chest with his blouse unbuttoned and his sleeves hanging by his forearms, while you wrapped your arms around his torso as your hand wraps itself around his hard cock. He threw his head back as he whined into your neck and his face flushed red with tears staining his cheeks. You’ve been going at him for the past fifteen minutes just outright torturing him with the edging game you’ve decided to play with him.

He lets out strings of pleading speech and asks for him to come, and as soon as you sense him getting closer, you slow down to a halt, which makes him cry out more pleas as you shush him while he whimpers.

“Shh, shh, you need to be a good boy, Sanji, you just need a little more until you get it okay?” you say in a hushed tone, which makes him shudder out a “Yes, goddess,” as you then proceed to do the actions that you were doing.

But with this one, Sanji had had enough. When he felt himself getting closer again, you did what usually do, expecting him to just carry on whining and plead with you to “stop,” but this time he reacted with him just gripping your wrist harshly and crying out with more pleads. You eyed him with a blank stare, only for Sanji to look up at you and realize his fuck-up.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to touch you! I’m sorry, goddess, please forgive—ah!”

Sanji’s pathetic pleas have been interrupted by your slap towards his cock and he just hissed in pleasure followed by a moan. “You dare stop me?”

“N-No! No, I did not—ah! Fuck!~” You proceeded to abuse his cock, which results in him just whining and apologizing. As you continued to do so, he eventually began panting until he suddenly began spilling over the bed. You looked at him in awe while he just looked down in embarrassment as he began cussing at himself for what he did, anticipating your upcoming reprimanding.

“Aww, did little Sanji just come by me slapping him?” You say with fake concern, while he takes a pillow and hides as he begins to sob out a bunch of “sorry’s.”

He shook his head, as you began to gather his cum on his lower stomach and began cooing out his name. He pulled away the pillow that concealed his face and he witnessed a sight that he could come once again; you lowered yourself and began licking the remanence of his essence. He just gasped as his face twisted in pleasure, muttering out, “oh, goddess…”

You stared into his eyes as you got up on your knees and began positioning yourself. You were already bare, and Sanji tried his best to not touch but he didn’t want you to endure any punishment, regardless you continued to do things that could be deemed as a punishment as he had not had any time to register and gather himself from his post orgasm.

“Wait, wait, please, (y/n)—Oh, Fuck!”

He whimpered out over the overstimulation as you felt him stretching you while his cock was engulfed by your tight wall. You moaned out followed by a dark chuckle meanwhile Sanji was an absolute mess underneath you.

You enjoyed the sight of your pup being a wreck, he was overstimulated and he could feel himself coming at any point and he began to pant.

“Oh my god! Oh my god!”

He began repeating himself like a mantra along with your name and ‘goddess’ while you just cooed and caressed his face with the back of your hand while he proceeded to hush him.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s okay, I’m here, your goddess's here…”

He opened his teary eyes as he just looked at you. You had a halo around you, an absolute beauty on top of him, your walls squeezed perfectly around his sensitive organ while his chest raised and lowered following his frantic breath, but the way you guided him and softly spoke to him as you slowly began to bounce on him while he moans in absolute pleasure at the way you moved on top of him.

He felt himself getting closer while you threw your head back as you picked up the pace…

All he had in his head was with his face filled with awe…

“Wow… she is indeed a goddess…”

characters are owned by oda. i will not tolerate nor accept translation, reposts on other websites, or plagiarism. divider made by mmadeinheavenn.

#sanji x reader #sanji smut #one piece headcanons #blackleg sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #blackleg sanji x you #one piece x reader #one piece smut #sanji fic #sage's sanji

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fanaticsnail · 6 months

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Fic Inspo: Sanji's Remedial Massage

(intense rehabilitation massage after training: source, Instagram & tiktok)

The way my ex-athlete heart hurts for the current ouch he's going through, but super happy on the freedom he gets afterwards from the relief.

#taz skylar #sanji opla #one piece #opla #x reader #opla fic #one piece live action #sanji #sanji x reader #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #sanji fic

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uglypastels · 7 months

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hi hi! obsessed with your Sanji fic! i was wondering if you could do a sanji x f!reader where he takes good care of the reader during their time of the month? Like he made all the foods that are good for her and a treat to enjoy, while also giving massages and just whatever the reader needs? Thank you!

thank you so much for the request!! I tried not to refer to any period symptoms so technically this is more of a "gender neutral reader feeling sick" and can be read as any scenario. hope that's ok

no real warnings. i guess? just short fluff. not really proofread

If you didn't know better, you would think Sanji kept track of you, the way he knew exactly when to do and say what he needed to. You wouldn't even realise your own state yourself, only coming to terms with how badly you felt when he would be bringing you a hot cup of tea or cocoa or a large portion of the most comforting egg-fried rice. All without asking.

The truth was, he picked up on things. The smallest of details. The way your mood would change some days, or you would feel tired or sick. Maybe even without realising what the cause of it is at first. He just knew you didn't feel well and that he could be the one to help.

On days when you were particularly under the weather, and your legs wouldn't seem to work, he'd bring you your food to bed; all prepared on a little tray with a flower and all.

'Here you go,' he said, placing it over your lap with a proud smile.

'You really didn't need to do all this,' you sighed, looking at the feast he prepared, even though you only asked for a small snack.

'I know,' Sanji laughed, 'but I figured it wouldn't hurt to spoil you a little bit.' He put his hands in his pockets as you grabbed a fork to take your first bite, staying just long enough to see your reaction to the food to be able to leave, satisfied.

'Wait,' you stopped him, however. 'Could you stay maybe?' After feeling like shit the entire day, alone in your room, some company was well due.

'Uh, yeah, sure,' he hesitated before stepping closer to your bed. Rolling your eyes, you moved over in your bed, knowing that otherwise he would just act the gentleman and linger next to it.

But once in bed with you, he saw it as a free-for-all and immediately scooped you into his arms. His body wrapped itself around you, and instantly, you were comforted by the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his body, and the smell that caught onto his clothes from the kitchen.

'Were you baking something?' you asked.

'Maybe,' he'd grin, already knowing you were aware of exactly what he had been up to.

But sometimes, food just wasn't the answer to all of life's problems. Sometimes, you felt so bad that even the thought of eating something made you sick, and that definitely pulled Sanji out of his element. After all, he's the cook.

It won't mean he wouldn't try to make you feel as good as possible again. Perhaps by preparing a hot water bottle or reminding you to drink water and take some painkillers or any other medicine you'd need. He would distract the rest of the crew, who were oblivious to your current state, and give you a bit of breathing space if you felt overwhelmed by the chaos that was life on board the ship. He'd help you with your tasks on board and take the workload off your shoulders if you felt weak.

Then, in the evening, he'd sneak into your cabin just to check up on you, make sure you're comfortable, and ignore all your protests to fluff your pillows.

'C'mon, Sanj, you really don't need to do that,' you'd laugh.

'I know.' That's what he always said. Because he didn't care about what he should or shouldn't be doing.

All that mattered to him was you, and for you, he would do anything.

the end

thank you for reading!! please consider supporting content with comments and reblogs if you enjoyed it.

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#sanji x reader #sanji x y/n #vinsmoke sanji #sanji fanfiction #sanji fanfic #sanji fic #sanji fluff #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece fic #opla fanfiction

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yoonavii · 8 months

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𝐑𝐈𝐁𝐁𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒

Regency era! Sanji x reader

Description: Lady Y/N, a gifted seamstress, is chosen to craft dresses for the daughter of the prestigious Vinsmoke Family. Amidst the world of nobles, she encounters Lord Sanji, the charming third son with culinary talents. As vibrant fabrics and bold flavors entwine, will their love be durable enough to preserve the trials and tribulations ahead? or will it have to be seared and served on a silver platter? Yes that is Taz Skyler lol

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄

In the western expanse of London, a tempest raged, casting shadows across the cobbled streets as Lady Dilara dashed through the rain-soaked alleys. Her breath came in ragged gasps, matching the frantic rhythm of her heart as she clutched her precious baby daughter tightly against her chest. Months of defiance, secrecy, and stolen moments with her true love had led her to this desperate escape. Raindrops splattered against her face like tears of the heavens themselves, and Dilara stole a fearful glance over her shoulder, her heart racing as the echo of pursuing footsteps drew nearer. Her fiancé's relentless hounds were hot on her trail, their loyalty to him unwavering, their determination unyielding.

With a trembling hand, Dilara sought shelter beneath a timeworn archway, her chest heaving as she huddled protectively over her child. The baby girl nestled against her, oblivious to the storm of emotions that tore through her mother's heart. Dilara's grip tightened, torn between the life she had dreamed of with her true love and the impending threat that now loomed over them.

As raindrops cascaded like crystal tears from the sky, she pressed a fervent kiss onto her daughter's downy hair, her voice a whisper borne of both love and heartache. "Forgive me, my darling. This choice I make is born of love—a love that seeks to shield you from the storm that threatens to consume us."

With a determined exhale, Dilara squared her shoulders, resolve hardening in her gaze. She knew the choice she must make to ensure her daughter's safety. It was a choice forged in the fires of desperation, a last stand against a fate she refused to accept. The glistening streets led her to an enchanting boutique, its window adorned with ethereal lace and resplendent silks that seemed to dance in the soft glow within. And there, amid the needle and thread, the prominent Madame Lucille worked diligently, her hands weaving magic into every intricate stitch.

Dilara hesitated, her heart a symphony of conflicting emotions. But then, with a resolute breath, she stepped into the boutique, the chime of a bell announcing her arrival. Madame Lucille looked up, her eyes widening in surprise at the sight of the bedraggled noblewoman and the infant cradled in her arms. "Please," Dilara implored, her voice a tremor. "You must take and protect her. Keep her safe from those who would cause her harm." Madame Lucille regarded her with a mixture of compassion and understanding, as if she sensed the gravity of the situation. Wordlessly, she extended her arms, and Dilara gently relinquished her daughter, tears blurring her vision as she watched the child nestled in the arms of a stranger who might offer salvation.

With a silent promise in her heart, Dilara turned to flee, leaving behind a piece of her soul in that boutique—a fragment of her hope for a better future. Regret gnawed at her heart as she disappeared into the night. Yet, deep down, she knew that her daughter’s safety and the chance to live a life of her own choosing were worth the pain she felt. It was a sacrifice born of love, and Lady Dilara held onto the hope that one day, her daughter would understand the depth of her dire choice.

——

As sunlight filtered through the curtains of your room, you stirred in your bed, the sheets soft against your skin. With a determined spirit, you swung your legs over the side and stood, stretching your lithe form to chase away the remnants of sleep. Each movement was deliberate, a testament to the discipline that had become ingrained in your routine.

The room you occupied now was a far cry from the stormy night you were born into. Pure silk sheets cradled you, an embodiment of the comfort and privilege you now enjoyed. Inhaling deeply, you basked in the tranquility that had replaced the chaos of your past.

Your morning stretches served a purpose beyond merely waking your body. The rigorous routine was a prelude to the intense sewing sessions your mother, Madame Lucille, put you through. The skills she had honed and passed on were your birthright, a legacy that connected you to the artistry and craftsmanship that had sustained you both through the years.

As you moved through each stretch, your mind wandered to the day ahead. The boutique was a hive of activity, a testament to Madame Lucille’s reputation and the demand for her creations. You had grown into a skilled seamstress under her guidance, and together, you wove magic into every stitch, crafting garments that whispered tales of elegance and sophistication.

Descending the stairs with grace, you entered the bustling world of the boutique. Bolts of exquisite fabrics lined the shelves, and the air was filled with the soft rustling of fabric. Customers sought out Madame Lucille’s expertise, each visit an affirmation of her talent and dedication. Madame Lucille’s gaze met yours with a mixture of pride and determination. “Good morning, my dear,” she greeted warmly. “Another day of creating beauty awaits us.”

You nodded, a genuine smile gracing your lips. “Indeed, Mother. I’m ready.” The days were full, but they were filled with purpose. The boutique flourished, and your hard work yielded rewards beyond measure. The comfort you enjoyed was a testament to your shared dedication to the art you had perfected.

As you continue to sew, your nimble fingers dancing across the fabric, your ears catch snippets of hushed conversation from a group of ladies nearby. Their voices carry excitement as they discuss an upcoming luncheon hosted by Lady Sora of the Vinsmoke family. Their words pique your curiosity, and you find yourself listening intently.

“Lady Sora’s luncheon is simply the most anticipated event of the season,” one lady gushes.

“Indeed, the Vinsmoke family is known for their grand gatherings and exquisite taste,” another responds, her voice tinged with admiration.

Your heart skips a beat as you overhear their talk. Lady Sora’s luncheon—such events were common occurrences, and you often played a crucial role in their preparation, crafting elegant gowns that adorned the attendees. Your mother’s reputation and your own skill as a seamstress were highly regarded, evident in the meticulous designs you lovingly brought to life.

Yet, despite your contribution to these events, a pang of exclusion always accompanied your work. You were, after all, the daughter of a successful seamstress, a talented artist in your own right. Still, invitations to these lavish affairs remained elusive, like distant stars you could never quite reach.

With a careful stitch, you ponder the conversation you’ve overheard. The ladies’ excitement serves as a reminder of the world beyond the boutique’s walls, a world of opulent luncheons and elegant gatherings. A world that, despite your role in crafting its allure, you have never truly been a part of.

As the fabric passes through your hands, your thoughts drift to the possibility of this being the event that changes everything. A small spark of hope ignites within you—the hope that perhaps, this time, you will not only help create the beauty that graces the gathering but also have the chance to step into that world yourself.

Before you, lost in your thoughts, time can carry you too far, the entrance door of the boutique swings open with a burst of energy. Your best friend, a noble girl whose down-to-earth nature has made her a kindred spirit to you, steps in with a radiant smile. The familiarity of her presence warms your heart; after all, you've shared years of laughter and secrets together.

With a wave and a joyful expression, she excitedly approaches you, her eyes shining with a secret she can barely contain. "Y/n!" she exclaims, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Turning your attention to her, you meet her gaze with a questioning smile. "What's got you so elated?" you ask, intrigued by her evident excitement.

Without missing a beat, she produces two delicate invitations from within her dress, her fingers clutching them with an almost triumphant air. "Look what I managed to secure," she announces, her voice a soft symphony of excitement.

As her words sink in, your heart skips a beat. The invitations bear the mark of Lady Sora's upcoming luncheon—the very event you'd been musing about just moments ago. Your eyes widen in disbelief, and your fingers brush the invitation as if to confirm its reality. "An invitation to the Vinsmoke luncheon," she says, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "And not just for me, but for you as well."

The enormity of her words settles over you, and a surge of emotions wells within. She, your steadfast friend, your connection to a world beyond your own, had used her influence to secure a place for you by her side. The gesture is as unexpected as it is heartwarming.

A shared moment of delight passes between you, and then both of you burst into squeals of excitement, your laughter mingling with joyous abandon. The boutique walls seem to shimmer with the shared thrill of this new possibility, and the shadow of exclusion that once loomed has been cast aside by the light of your friend's thoughtfulness.

As the joyous sound envelops you both, you can't help but marvel at the twists of fate and the bonds of friendship that have brought you to this point. Lady Sora's luncheon—a chance to step into a world you've admired from afar—suddenly feels within reach, a dream that's now more tangible than ever. And as the excitement continues to swirl around you, you know that this event will be more than just an elegant gathering; it will be a testament to the enduring power of friendship and the extraordinary journey that life can sometimes unfold.

———

Amidst the grandeur of a magnificent estate, Lady Sora occupies the tranquil confines of her tea room. The delicate aroma of herbal tea wafts through the air as she stirs the cup, her thoughts drifting like the tendrils of steam that rise from its surface. With an air of quiet anticipation, she awaits the arrival of her third eldest son, Sanji. The estate, though opulent, carries an air of serenity that mirrors the demeanor of its mistress. Lady Sora's husband, Judge, is away on business, and in his absence, a rare freedom has enveloped her. No longer subject to the constant watchful eye, she finds herself able to move with a sense of liberation that had been absent for so long.

Her gaze is steady, her thoughts focused on the conversation she plans to strike with Sanji. He, her son whose warm smile mirrors his blonde hair, possesses a connection with her that goes beyond mere familial bonds. Out of her six children, he's the one who resembles her the most, both in appearance and personality. Their connection is a bridge that has only grown stronger with time, a testament to the depth of their understanding.

And then, with the graceful entry of Sanji, Lady Sora's heart warms like the embrace they share. His smile, a reflection of hers, carries the same warmth that his hair does. Their eyes meet, and the exchange is unspoken, a silent language of shared moments and unbreakable connection. "Mother," he greets, his voice a soothing melody that resonates with familiarity. The hug they share is not just a physical gesture but a testament to the bond they've nurtured over the years.

"Sanji," Lady Sora responds, her voice a harmonious blend of affection and genuine joy. The tea room, their haven within the estate's grandeur, becomes a sanctuary for their unspoken conversations and shared memories. As they settle into the warmth of each other's company, the estate's walls seem to hold the echo of a mother's love and a son's devotion. Amidst the tranquil beauty of their surroundings, Lady Sora and Sanji's connection blooms, a testament to the intricate tapestry of family, understanding, and the unspoken words that tie their hearts together.

With a hint of excitement dancing in her eyes, Lady Sora leans in, her voice a gentle melody as she shares her plans with Sanji. "My dear, I have wonderful news. Tomorrow, I shall be hosting a luncheon right here at the estate."

Sanji's gaze meets hers, curiosity lighting his expression. "A luncheon, Mother? How splendid! This is your first time hosting such an event, is it not?" Lady Sora's smile widens, her enthusiasm palpable. "Indeed, Sanji. I'm absolutely thrilled. The opportunity to host and arrange an event is a rare privilege that I intend to embrace fully."

As the conversation flows, Lady Sora transitions to a topic that she knows holds a special place in Sanji's heart. "And speaking of the luncheon, dear son, I have a proposition for you. Your culinary skills are unparalleled, as I've been told by many who've had the honor of tasting your creations."

Sanji's expression shifts, a mixture of surprise and hesitation flitting across his features. The memory of his previous attempts at cooking for nobility resurfaces, a reminder of the severe punishment he faced for daring to defy convention. The idea that nobles should not engage in the preparation of food had been drilled into him, a lesson reinforced by his father's strict adherence to tradition.

Lady Sora watches his reaction carefully, knowing full well the apprehension that lingers. She chooses her words with care. "I understand that there are risks involved, my dear. But with your father away, the opportunity presents itself. Would you consider lending your expertise to help prepare the dishes for the luncheon?" Sanji's gaze meets hers, a mixture of emotions reflected in his eyes. The memory of his past transgression is countered by the realization that this might be a chance to pursue his passion without fear. His lips part, and he hesitates before finally giving a subtle nod. "I... I'll help, Mother."

Her smile brightens at his acceptance, and her eyes twinkle with maternal pride. "That warms my heart, Sanji. Thank you." But Lady Sora's plans do not stop there. "And once the preparations are complete, I hope you will join the luncheon as well," she continues, her tone inviting. Sanji's eyebrows raise in mild surprise. "Me? Attend an event as a guest?"

Lady Sora's gaze softens, her words tender. "Yes, my dear. You've worked hard, and I believe you deserve to enjoy the fruits of your labor. Besides, who knows? The luncheon might bring unexpected delights." A playful glint enters her eyes, and she teases, "You might even find your true love amidst the festivities."

Sanji's response is a blend of humor and romanticism. "Ah, Mother, you have a way of turning even the simplest event into something magical." Their laughter rings in the tearoom, a melody of shared affection and a mother's belief in her son's potential. As Lady Sora and Sanji look ahead to the luncheon, they both know that this event holds more than just culinary delights—it's a step toward embracing passions, defying convention, and discovering the unexpected joys that life can offer.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.

246 notes · View notes