Imagine Sanji thinks you’re a dream when you knock at his door at 3am
⎰ A/N: My first Sanji x reader. This was supposed to be part of a scene in another sanji fic im writing but i scraped it entirely. I rewrote it as a what if scene instead. Hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: none.
Sanji blinks slowly, once, twice, as if his sleep-fogged brain is still trying to catch up with what his eyes are seeing. The door hangs half-open, at the sight of your bare legs and the loose shirt over sleep shorts, its hem barely brushing past mid-thigh. For a long moment he just stares with slightly parted lips.
Then it hits him.
A slow, dazed grin spreads across his face, equal parts adoration and wicked delight. Like a man who’s just realized the universe has finally decided to be kind to him.
“Y/N…-swan…”
The name leaves his lips hushed and trembling with wonder. His voice is rough from sleep, but it still carries that hopelessly lovesick tone reserved just for you. A thin trail of blood slips from his nose, but doesn’t even bother wiping it away this time. His eyes are too busy drinking you in.
Sanji leans heavily against the doorframe, one hand braced above his head, the other raking through his disheveled blond hair as he lets out a soft, shaky laugh.
“So that’s how it is tonight…” he murmurs to himself, gaze tracing the line of your collarbone, the way the shirt clings and doesn’t cling in all the right places. “My mind has finally stopped teasing me with half-measures and brought me the real feast.”
Laughing to himself in disbelief as he shook his head. Then pushes off the frame, straightens up to smooth his tee shirt like he’s trying to look presentable for his own fantasy and takes one slow step closer.
“You’re cruel, you know that?” His tone is teasing, fond even, yet accusing. “Coming to me dressed like this… looking like every lonely thought I’ve ever had at sea.”
Another step. Closer now. Close enough that you can smell faint traces of tobacco still clinging to his skin, cologne, and that fresh scent of whatever soap he uses whenever he showers before bed.
“You always look like an angel,” His voice drops to a conspiratorial murmur. “always… appearing like this…just for me.” Sanji exhaled a dreamy sigh. “I must say…you look even better than your last visit, my love. Yes… much better now that I can see you properly." His eyes sparkled, his teeth caught his bottom lip mid-grin. “And judging by how you’re standing there… you know just how irresistible you are, don’t you?
He sighs again. “Angel… did you choose that shirt on purpose? Knowing exactly what it would do to me?” The question lingers for a moment while half-lidded eyes gleam with want as they fix onto the hem of your shirt. “Or is my subconscious just that generous tonight?”
Sanji reaches out… slowly… like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast, and lets his fingertips hover a breath away from the hem of the shirt. Not quite touching, like he’s savoring the anticipation.
“Because if this is a dream…” A longing smile tugs at his lips. “…then I’m allowed to be a little selfish, no? I'm allowed to want more than just looking, yeah?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, gaze darkening as they fall to your lips. "Don't you agree, gorgeous?"
His gaze flicks up to meet yours daringly, a little desperate beneath all that charm.
“Tell me, my love…” he whispers, voice trembling with barely restrained longing. “In this dream you’ve so kindly stepped into… will you let me find out if you feel as soft and warm as I’ve imagined every single night?” He lingers, warm and possessive. “Or do you just stand there looking perfect, and watch me fall apart from a safe distance again?”
And this was the last time you’d wake Sanji at 3 AM for a pack of cigarettes when yours had run out.
Hello! I'm Yan-san but eveyone usually calls me Yan. I made this account to dedicate it mainly for Sanji but also OP overall.
Not many of you may know this but this is my main account @yan-san-yan . I mostly do art but used to write a lot more before.
Last Book: Let's pretend it wasn't textbooks T.T
The last book I read was Sanji's cook book (One Piece Pirate Recipes) that my friend got for me as a Christmas present.
Last Song: I usually listen to something on shuffle or recommendations so I'm not too sure what the last song was, but anything that's jazzy, indie rock or neo soul since that is what I gravitate to when studying. I listen to anything, really, but since I'm studying and/or writing a lot it's usually something not too upbeat.
Last Film: Zootopia 2, i watched it recently with my friend :D I thought it was good but not the best.
Last Series: One piece, I'm not entirely caught up yet since I like to binge watch or watch multiple episodes at a time.
Last Video Game: I don't play games since i don't have time for it but i do play genshin a couple times a week
Sweet or Salty: Food is good. I like food. I eat anything, I'm only picky about who makes it. Therefore my answer remains indecisive xP
Coffee or Tea: I'm a tea addict. I always start my day with a cup of black tea or tea infusions. Don't like chamomile though. Funnily enough I enjoy coffee flavored desserts no matter the intensity but not coffee so much as a drink.
Working on: So many fics... and art projects... and uni thesis...
Imagine Sanji thinks you’re a dream when you knock at his door at 3am
⎰ A/N: My first Sanji x reader. This was supposed to be part of a scene in another sanji fic im writing but i scraped it entirely. I rewrote it as a what if scene instead. Hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: none.
Sanji blinks slowly, once, twice, as if his sleep-fogged brain is still trying to catch up with what his eyes are seeing. The door hangs half-open, at the sight of your bare legs and the loose shirt over sleep shorts, its hem barely brushing past mid-thigh. For a long moment he just stares with slightly parted lips.
Then it hits him.
A slow, dazed grin spreads across his face, equal parts adoration and wicked delight. Like a man who’s just realized the universe has finally decided to be kind to him.
“Y/N…-swan…”
The name leaves his lips hushed and trembling with wonder. His voice is rough from sleep, but it still carries that hopelessly lovesick tone reserved just for you. A thin trail of blood slips from his nose, but doesn’t even bother wiping it away this time. His eyes are too busy drinking you in.
Sanji leans heavily against the doorframe, one hand braced above his head, the other raking through his disheveled blond hair as he lets out a soft, shaky laugh.
“So that’s how it is tonight…” he murmurs to himself, gaze tracing the line of your collarbone, the way the shirt clings and doesn’t cling in all the right places. “My mind has finally stopped teasing me with half-measures and brought me the real feast.”
Laughing to himself in disbelief as he shook his head. Then pushes off the frame, straightens up to smooth his tee shirt like he’s trying to look presentable for his own fantasy and takes one slow step closer.
“You’re cruel, you know that?” His tone is teasing, fond even, yet accusing. “Coming to me dressed like this… looking like every lonely thought I’ve ever had at sea.”
Another step. Closer now. Close enough that you can smell faint traces of tobacco still clinging to his skin, cologne, and that fresh scent of whatever soap he uses whenever he showers before bed.
“You always look like an angel,” His voice drops to a conspiratorial murmur. “always… appearing like this…just for me.” Sanji exhaled a dreamy sigh. “I must say…you look even better than your last visit, my love. Yes… much better now that I can see you properly." His eyes sparkled, his teeth caught his bottom lip mid-grin. “And judging by how you’re standing there… you know just how irresistible you are, don’t you?
He sighs again. “Angel… did you choose that shirt on purpose? Knowing exactly what it would do to me?” The question lingers for a moment while half-lidded eyes gleam with want as they fix onto the hem of your shirt. “Or is my subconscious just that generous tonight?”
Sanji reaches out… slowly… like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast, and lets his fingertips hover a breath away from the hem of the shirt. Not quite touching, like he’s savoring the anticipation.
“Because if this is a dream…” A longing smile tugs at his lips. “…then I’m allowed to be a little selfish, no? I'm allowed to want more than just looking, yeah?” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, gaze darkening as they fall to your lips. "Don't you agree, gorgeous?"
His gaze flicks up to meet yours daringly, a little desperate beneath all that charm.
“Tell me, my love…” he whispers, voice trembling with barely restrained longing. “In this dream you’ve so kindly stepped into… will you let me find out if you feel as soft and warm as I’ve imagined every single night?” He lingers, warm and possessive. “Or do you just stand there looking perfect, and watch me fall apart from a safe distance again?”
And this was the last time you’d wake Sanji at 3 AM for a pack of cigarettes when yours had run out.
