modern au where you’re the sister to luffy; off-limits by default, protected by chaos, claimed by no one, but wanted by practically everyone.
they don’t say it out loud, but they don’t have to. you’re the untouchable thing in the room, the one they orbit but are hesitant to touch.
but that doesn’t stop the romantic sanji from always bringing you flowers. or bringing you a fresh, nutritious meal when you’re studying too long and forget to eat. or leaving positive encouraging notes for you to find in your books, your pockets, your car. (you never tell luffy about the more lewd notes that you find in your underwear drawer and under your pillow)
doesn’t stop usopp from leaving little trinkets and puzzles he made for you, loving the wide smile you give him whenever he surprises you and the look of concentration on your face while you try and solve it. and he’s completely normal about it when you give him another smile and a hug that lingers once you’ve finally solved the puzzle
doesn’t stop luffy’s best friend zoro from eyeing the skin you’re showing more often. he’s always been the protector, the one you can call if your older brothers aren’t available, he’ll help you out of whatever mess you got yourself in. at least that’s what he tells himself when he finds his eyes tracking you across the room, watching the way your skirt moves around, quickly showing him a glimpse of your ass
Hey! Can I request sanji x fem reader where reader is obsessed with chocolate and loves being his taste tester??
♡ Sugared Devotion
Pairing: Sanji x fem!reader (fluff)
A/N: Thank you for this request! It came out a bit shorter than my usual fics, but I hope that’s okay and you still enjoy it!
Sanji Masterlist • One Piece Masterlist
The late afternoon sun streamed into the Thousand Sunny’s galley, painting everything in shades of gold and warmth. The air smelled of chocolate and sugar, and you couldn’t help but smile as you curled up in the booth with your sketchpad.
Sanji moved around the kitchen like he was born there every motion smooth and graceful, like he was dancing just for you.
“You look bored, ma chérie,” he said softly, not even glancing your way as he carefully scooped a perfect swirl of dark chocolate mousse into a small bowl.
“Bored? Never,” you replied, resting your chin on your hand. “I’m just… patiently awaiting my destiny.” You pointed dramatically at the bowl. “Did the Triple-Layered Cacao Dream Mousse pass your super strict chef’s review?”
Sanji laughed, a sound that made your heart do a weird little flip. Finally, he looked at you and oh, his eyes. Those big, swirly hearts that made you feel like you were floating.
He slid the bowl across the table, spoon in hand. “It is… almost perfect,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “But the final verdict—the one that actually matters—belongs to you, my chocolate goddess.”
You felt your cheeks heat up. After all this time, he still gave you butterflies. “Well, don’t make me wait,” you teased.
Sanji leaned closer, holding the spoon just right. He didn’t just hand it to you he angled it so the mousse caught the light perfectly. This wasn’t just about food. It was about you, and how you would taste it first.
“Open up, my sweet,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling your hair.
The mousse was amazing rich, dark, and smooth, with a hint of sea salt and the faintest touch of raspberry that made it even better. You closed your eyes, savoring every bite, while Sanji watched you like you were the most important thing in the world.
“Well?” he asked, leaning on the table, hands clasped. “Is it balanced? Light enough? Perfect for my beloved?”
You opened your eyes and gave him a tiny, chocolate-flavored kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Sanji… it’s not almost perfect,” you said softly, brushing his golden bangs aside. “It’s perfect. And the raspberry? Genius.”
Sanji’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled like he could light up the whole ocean. “Of course! Only you would notice that! You have the palate of a goddess!”
He grabbed the spoon again. “One more bite just to make sure it’s absolutely perfect… for you, of course.”
And so it went, your usual routine: Sanji feeding you, you loving it, both of you grinning like fools in the galley. Watching you enjoy his creations was his favorite thing in the world. That and making sure you knew just how much he cared.
there's a glint in sanji's eyes as he watches you and your daughter snuggle.
mimi is tiny but chubby, all soft skin and rosy cheeks, old enough to babble but still too small to actually talk. when you found out you were pregnant, sanji had been elated but scared — life as a pirate isn't exactly made for a pregnant woman, let alone for an infant. still, he was happy and was ready to leave it all behind if it meant continuing to live a life by your side with your newfound companion.
but after a quick talk with the other strawhats, he was relieved to understand that the others had no intention of making either of you leave. everyone offered their support and promise to help where they could, whether it be during an attack or a particularly rough night of crying.
it made sanji's heart swell — the way everyone adapted so quickly to her. before anyone realized, battles became more and more scarce, attacks weren't as reckless as they used to be and the small girl's laugh had become something each one of them would go to the ends of the earth for.
and looking at you now — laughing with robin about something, with mimi's cheek pressed on your chest as she observes luffy while he makes face at her, the sun painting your skin orange — he thinks that he wouldn't change it at all, not even one bit.
you notice his staring, raising an eyebrow at him. "is there something on my face?"
he laughs, shaking his head. he cuts a piece of strawberry from the basket at the centre of the table — a miracle that luffy hasn't already reduced it to smithens, really — and offers it to mimi, whose eyes light up and mouth opens, slightly raising her head, to not-so-gracefully accept the food he's handing her.
she chomps down on the strawberry as well as on his fingers, wrapping her small hand around them to keep him in place as she continues munching. she could be doing anything — even eating his fingers away — and sanji would still adore her in any way possible.
soon enough, her little eyes start to droop. "tired, baby?" you ask her, pressing your lips on the top of her head. she nods a bit, her gnawing at sanji's fingers eventually stopping, leaving them covered in spit.
your boyfriend rises from his seat, taking her in his arms. "I'll take her to bed," he mumbles, earning a soft smile from you. "thank you, sanji." he moves to press a kiss on your cheek, "you deserve a break. chat with the others, eat what you couldn't while holding her– I know she gave you a hard time while I was cooking."
"always so attentive," you muse, the laughter of your comrades as they enjoy themselves almost a mere background sound. "but, well, she has taken her clinginess to me from you, babe. not that I am complaining, but she looks so much like you under certain lights."
sanji can’t exactly deny it; his little girl does look like she’s his clone, and even acts as one as soon as she enters the kitchen. my little food critic, he calls her when she stomps — more like crawls, because she has yet to learn how to properly walk — her way in like she owns the place, babbling nonsense that can translate into make me food, slave.
sanji brushes a curl out of her face and holds her tighter, moving down to the living quarters and into your shared room. mimi has her own cot in there, even if franky is working on making her her own little room, and sanji carefully lays her down, smiling at the sight of his daughter curling up in her blanket as soon as he tucks her in. “sleep well, my darling,” he coos, pressing a kiss atop her head.
he gets back up on deck, finally letting himself take out his cigarette pack from his pocket, the lighter with it. you were particularly adamant on not letting your daughter see him smoke, both so that she never gets the idea to imitate her dad and she doesn't have to be around the smoke, so his smoking time has lowered significantly and is now reduced to the small hours without her that he gets.
he takes back the seat next to yours, appreciating the way you're trying some of the things that luffy's rampage had left, quietly listening to robin and nami chatter. "she went down okay?" you softly ask him, barely a whisper, as he lights the cigarette between his lips.
he nods, smiling, puffing out a breath of smoke. "has she ever given me too much trouble?"
you laugh. even if she did, it'd never be too much for him. "no," you hum, resting your head on his shoulder as his arm wraps around you. "she never has."
includingㅤ━ㅤmonkey d. luffy, roronoa zoro, sanji vinsmoke
tag(s)&warning(s). drabbles, gn! reader, sfw, fluff?, what constitutes as fluff idk girl, established relationship w/ zoro and sanji, luffy is a secret third thing i guess?, stray 'kms' threat in sanji's part
from vyon. big up to alex turner and no. 1 party anthem; luffy's is marginally longer because he's my most specialiest boy and he deserves special treatment and i struggled way too hard with characterising sanji in a relationship aside from all the embarrassing simping stuff, he's just amazingly pathetic, i don't wna talk about it, the main star here is luffy
like a lot of other things, kissing comes easy to luffy. though he's never had any couples around him as he grew up, he's been on enough adventures to catch a number of couples share a few quick pecks here and there. sabo's once mentioned kissing as well— a sort of distant memory that comes back when your lips first land on his cheek on your supposed first date. it might be sabo's fault, or his parents, that luffy believes kissing to be bleugh before he's tried it. though in sabo's defence, there wasn't a child in the world that would want to see their parents kissing. still, it isn't as bad as sabo made it out to be, luffy thinks as his wide–eyed gaze follows you back onto the sunny. there's something in the shape of your lips sunburnt onto his cheek, crisp just underneath the scar he'd gotten as a child.
the old scar is a smudge between a burning hypersensitivity and a cold unfeeling stretch of skin; your lips brush against the scar and it tingles itself into simultaneous death and rebirth. burning, melting— luffy presses a hand against his cheek and feels full. then his lips pull into a grin and the burn of your lips spreads out, pushing through every fold of skin as his hand reaches out for the sunny and he flings himself into the air, allowing the feeling to crawl through sinew.
luffy is no stranger to touching— he does it in painstaking excess, but there's a childhood teaching in him that kissing is not the same as touching. he stares at nami for a while, wondering if the instinct to feel her is the same as it is for you; she gets annoyed by his unwavering stare and swats at his head. he decides it's a no.
kissing is meant to be con... consumption? conservative— constellation? no, it's one of those 'c' words that he doesn't really remember, but he knows that he's supposed to ask you if you want him to kiss you. he doesn't understand the idea of waiting for permission but he'd really hate it if you were grossed out, like ace once told him would happen if kissing happened unconventionally(?) (that's not right he thinks), so he asks you one day.
as simple as he gets, luffy comes up to you and asks. "do you want me to kiss you?"
you splutter in shock and you hear movements on the deck still. luffy thinks he'd maybe forgotten something that the people in foosa village taught him but he waits for you to answer anyways. it doesn't come because sanji is aiming a kick at his head and shouting at him about the delicate intricacies of romance and courting. through all the dizzying flips of colour as he jumped away from sanji's attack, a kaleidoscope of the things he loves the most (the sea, his ship, his crew) in his eyes, he sees the hesitant embarrassment that colours your cheeks in. the burn that you've placed in him sparking up a fuse between the two of you at the slip of his tongue against gums and he laughs, swinging away and crash landing on whatever usopp was building out of sticks.
you return to him at a more private time, slip up next to him wordlessly— he doesn't say anything so you fear that he'd forgotten.
"do you still mean it?" your shoulder knocks against his.
"mean what?"
you turn to look at him, your eyes flickering down. "when you asked if i wanted you to kiss me."
that gets his attention, his head turns to you with a flexibility only he has— his eyes blinking at you carefully. "i did, did you make up your mind?" his lips pulled up into a grin, "you want me to kiss you now?"
you wish he had a less abrasive way of asking, but the answer is the same regardless. you nod and luffy takes.
you're not sure what you're expecting at this point. you know how luffy is about psychical touch, he's no stranger to it— everything he's ever known, he's ran his hands over. the amount of times you've been knocked down to his reckless habit of flinging himself into your back, you expect the same thing here.
luffy inspects you for a moment, the corners of his lips pulling down before twitching into a pout, "it's not gonna hurt, silly, why'd you look like that?" he shifts his body to face yours, his knees knocking against yours as he pushes his face closer.
then, his lips stretch outwards— his damn devil fruit— and it's so comical how his puckered lips pulled towards you to press gently against your cheek that you're laughing when it snaps back into place. luffy laughs along with you for a moment. a gooey comfort strained inside of you, your hands pressed against his cheeks— you find a simple joy in pulling his face, and then you find a better joy in leaning yourself closer to press your lips against his.
you're giving so luffy takes. he shifts onto his knees for better leverage to lean into you— the movements are stiff and careless. he's less kissing you and more just pushing his face into yours but you can feel the strain of his smile against your lips so no matter. being luffy, he pushes and he pushes greedily until your hands move from his face to the deck to keep yourself from falling.
it's so stupid how, even though this sucks, you want to make an occupation of kissing him.
it becomes a habit for him to kiss you no matter how far away you are by taking advantage of his devil fruit. eventually, he does get better; you realise why after a pointed comment from robin that hints to the fact that he'd asked her for kissing tips.
zoro is all lingering touch, heated spaces, and fizzling affection. it's not often that he gives you the pleasure of being skin close with him— not that you mind. he's eye candy enough, grunting and sweating in a handstand with barbells methodically placed on his feet and boxes of miscellaneous supplies for added weight. he's never been the type to need the world in his life; everything he's done has always been to prove a sick something to himself, to his strength.
his devotion is similar. there's no place for prying eyes in your relationship when there's you, the fulfilling adoration, and zoro. sometimes, there is also his swords and other times, there is an overwhelming luffy (who knows no boundaries).
he's always more forgiving with you, but he draws the line at excessive pda and you respect that boundary. fleeting contact has never been zoro's strong suit, he's an all or nothing soldier so when it comes to kissing, he likes the ready privacy that allows him to indulge. so he ignores the pointed staring, how you've made yourself comfortable on the benches in the crow's nest; your body sprawled out following the curve of the seats as your face turns red from how you have your head hanging off the cushioned planks.
he grunted, turning his head back down to the floor before he loses his balance.
you start counting, "one, two, three." he's well past those measly numbers but he lets you do as you please. "four, five, one, three, sixty–five, twelve, two, negative five, twenty, fourteen, nine—"
he folds his legs down against his chest, letting the weights fall to the floor with a thud. "alright," he straightened up, "you've made your point." an unimpressed look crosses his face.
your lips curled up into a grin and then you pull yourself up, throwing his towel at him. he takes the hit to the face and presses his hand over the fabric to wipe away the sweat and falls next to you, sliding his body down for his head to lay on your thigh.
"ewwww," your face scrunched up, "you're sticking to me." his hair is clinging to his forehead, interrupted strokes of green paint against his temple.
"shut it."
a laugh is quiet on your lips as zoro falls into the comfort of the moment, his eye closing. you trace over his face and then you crane yourself down, ignoring the ache in your spine and neck, your lips fall onto his forehead, "one." you counted. then onto the space between his furrowed brows, "two," his nose, "three". over his eye, "four." you pull back just in time to feel his lashes scratch over your lips.
a heavy judgement in his eye, stern and serious— he curls an arm up to press against your nape and pulls you down. there's a weight that's tethering you to the moment in the curves of his arm and a light–headedness that makes the stillness burst at the seams as zoro ignites everything alive. it's a slow and careful thing, how his head rises to meets yours and then how it tilts so he can slide his lips onto yours.
his arm drags across your neck until you feel moisture in the contour of his calloused hand, fingers pushes into your hair as zoro leans back from your lips, humming. "five." he says, a whisper of a smirk on his lips. a flicker of tender violence in how he fists your hair at its base and pulls your head back to give himself access to your neck. all or nothing, you're reminded, he drags this kind of simple affection into long, several moments.
he continues counting, picking up where you left off until you both hear luffy calling for zoro to help him fish and your relationship mellows back down, protected in loud secrecy.
there's always a strange line to tread when it comes to sharing intimacy with sanji. he's the quickest to melt when it's passing pecks, a second touch of your chapped lips against his cheek.
it depends on the atmosphere of the moment. just as quick as you can puppeteer him to pliant stuttering, sanji is more than capable of wearing you down to your barest core with his appreciative methodical gestures.
what everyone else is most familiar with are the fast moments of sanji softening when you offhandedly touch him. a simple smile on your lips as he gracefully sets your plate down in front of you, ease in the way your head turns to face him and you give his cheek a grateful peck, a quick kiss against his lips when you're splitting ways upon docking on a new island. it's enough of a spectacle that luffy makes the same laughing racket when you kiss sanji casually to see him twirl with new founded energy and hearts in his eyes; that zoro has a trademarked insult ready on his lips whenever it happens; that nami owns a jar that sanji has to put money into whenever he starts his weird dance.
it's almost easy to forget how sanji reciprocates. love has always been a second language to him— it's burrowed in his every unhurried moment when cooking, it's a burn that drove an abscess in him when he was younger, it's straightened postures and the clean lines of his stature for every perverted thought that plagues him. his every move carries an echo, a drumming confession that rings i love you, i love you, i love you until the words are bleeding raw into each other and you feel undeserving in his passion that stinks of cigarette smoke.
the disturbance of the lit end against a clear canvas of blue skies, his arms folded over the handrails of the sunny, the strokes of grey smoke that taints the pristine clouds that rest languidly; a rigid lock on his features until you're brought to his attention with your shoes clicking against the deck. his face shifts into something more delicate— full of feeling that's different from his usual excitable manner.
"bad for you," you begin with a light–hearted scold, plucking the cigarette away from his lips. he turns to you, his back against the handrails.
his restless hands search for touch and find an answering comfort on your skin, turning up and down over the shape of your hips until his thumbs dig into the waistband of your bottoms. "don't," he pleads, "you know it kills me when you're disappointed."
your lips turn upwards, "should i cry?"
"please." his voice wavers between a weak warning and aching desperation as his head falls onto your shoulder, pulling you closer.
the smell of smoke is cauterised into his skin— you don't mind it and you don't mind him smoking, but you think it's funny to act like you do if it has sanji like this. his hair scratches against your skin, tickling an itch he'd placed in you long ago and you thread your straying hand into the strands as his fingers press demandingly into your hips. following your motion, sanji turns his head to look up at you.
a furrow in his brows and a plea in his eyes.
"you know i'm teasing," you lean down, pressing a kiss against his lips as an attempt to appease him, "but you know i'll have to kill myself if chopper comes and redirects his disappointment at me again." you sigh, weary at just the topic. "i mean seriously, he looks at me like i'm the one shoving cigarettes into your mouth and forcing you to inhale."
sanji tries to focus on your words but your lips have left him cold when you pull away; suddenly, being skin to skin isn't enough and he's trying to placate the greed that is curdling inside of him. it works for the better half of a second, his thumbs pull out of your waistband and his arms wrapped around you, one around your waist and the other dressed against your back.
he ducks his head down and settles his craving.
sanji is gentle all around, careful to make even his affections palatable. he starts slow, testing waters that he's skinny dipped in previously and when he finds no rejection, he moves in deeper. he's a lifelong hunger that can never hope to be satiated when close to you, unwavering in a promise that has wedding bells ringing deep in your bones.
there's a new memory of a life he wishes for you, brought to life and fed by the taste of you. for now, he has to pull away as the ship rocks into a tempestuous sea and panicked feet disrupt the echo of the bells. nami starts to shout orders. he pulls away. his heart stutters in time with the unpredictable storm. sanji trips over his feet on his way to pull up the sails and he starts twirling when it makes you laugh.
Na minha humilde opinião, Sanji é muito subestimado e nerfado como parceiro romântico. Sim, ele é usado como alívio cômico, de certo modo e o "jeito pervertido" dele é muitas vezes inconveniente, mas não acredito que ele seria um parceiro ruim ou qualquer coisa do gênero. Nem que ele trairia a namorada, manipularia ou brincaria com os sentimentos de uma mulher.
No geral, detesto personagens mulherengos e muito sorridentes, sempre preferi os taciturnos que são moles apenas com suas parceiras, porém, Sanji é uma bela e pouca explorada exceção. Ele é atencioso, protetor, engraçado, carismático, romântico, dedicado, forte e sensível ao mesmo tempo, não tem masculinidade frágil, de maneira nenhuma se envergonha por sua personalidade ou por gostar de mulheres ( muitos homens heteros gostam exclusivamente da parte sexual de se relacionar com uma mulher, não com as mulheres em si, muito menos com todas as nuances que as envolvem).
Sanji, nosso príncipe cavalheiro que sempre abre as portas.
Sanji, nosso príncipe carinhoso que nunca esquece nenhuma data e sempre faz surpresas românticas, desde as mais elaboradas, até as mais bobas como pegar flores selvagens absolutamente toda vez que atracam em uma ilha.
Sanji, nosso príncipe leal que a partir do momento em que está em um relacionamento sério nunca mais olharia para outra mulher com qualquer indício de malícia. Afinal, para que olhar para outra mulher se tem o que sempre sonhou entre seus braços?
Sanji, nosso príncipe atencioso que adora cozinhar, para a namorada esse sentimento é quadruplicado, não importa se ela tem seletividade alimentar ou não, ele vai dar um jeito, ele sempre pode dar um jeito por ela. Sanji que vai tirar todos os espinhos do peixe pra ela, cortar a carne dela em pedaços menores e tirar o que ela não come do prato, não importa onde estejam ou quem tenha preparado (inclusive tem o costume de cheirar discretamente a comida, quando não é ele que prepara, para identificar se é fresca e boa pra ela consumir)
Sanji, nosso príncipe sensível que adora contato físico, elogios e todas as linguagens do amor existentes, ele não tem vergonha de admitir que é carente de afeto. Ele nunca vai ficar ao lado da namorada sem tocá-la, mesmo que seja apenas brincar com as pontas do cabelo dela enquanto ela conversa, nunca vai deixar de se sentir incrível quando ela o beija com extrema emoção e diz o quão importante ele é.
Sanji, nosso príncipe protetor que absolutamente SEMPRE vai priorizar o bem estar da namorada ao invés dos outros e dele próprio. Ele particularmente não gosta da ideia da namorada ir muito longe sem ele, não por duvidar da capacidade dela, ele só não confia em outras pessoas que não sejam do bando perto dela.
Sanji, nosso príncipe carismático que sempre sorri para ela e a elogia, não existe possibilidade dele se referir à namorada pelo nome dela, nem em conversas com outras pessoas. É sempre "meu amor", "minha belíssima namorada", "o meu anjo", ela facilmente poderia se esquecer do som do próprio nome se não fosse a convivência com outras pessoas.
Sanji, nosso príncipe dedicado que absorve cada mania e gosto da namorada, ele SEMPRE compra algum presente secreto pra ela quando param em algum lugar, sempre leva objetos brilhantes que encontrou aleatoriamente pra ela e até mesmo pedras bonitinhas, ou seja, ele sempre tem algo que o lembra dela.
Sanji, nosso príncipe na vida real que adoraria mimar a namorada, cabelos, unhas, salão, massagem e milhares de roupas, não importa, ele tem dinheiro. Qual é a utilidade de um homem se não pode prover o que sua linda mulher quer? Ela adora a Taylor? BTS? Sabrina Carpenter? Foda-se, considere os ingressos comprados, nenhum gosto de sua parceira é idiota.
Sanji, nosso príncipe compreensívo que não vai gritar quando estiver irritado, dar castigo do silêncio ou tratar a namorada com grosseria. Que vai tentar acalmar os ânimos e resolver tudo pacificamente, que vai deixar ela bater as mãos menores no peito dele o quanto ela quiser, para depois puxá-la para um beijo apaixonado e fazê-la esquecer a raiva.
Sanji, nosso príncipe que só quer um coração disposto a amá-lo com a mesma intensidade que ele está disposto a se sacrificar pelo amor.
Sanji is the type to give out flowers to strangers on the street who seem to be on their own for Valentine's Day. Just a single rose with a beautifully done up bow around its stem. A simple gesture with some kind words to try to bring your spirits up. He’ll instruct you to eat that sweet treat you’ve been thinking of, have that glass of wine (or whatever your delicate palate prefers), and remember that someone loves you. And if it seems like no one does, know that he loves you just seconds after meeting you.
HELLO HI GOOD DAY TO YOU!! I have a Sanji request where the straw hats are having a kareoke night or something and reader sings bed chem by Sabrina carpenter and he loses it. Mutual pining but reader is a flirt like Sanji so they step up to bat and this is they’re boldest one yet :3
HIHI i literally wrote this in 10 minutes so apologies for any mistakes
also haven’t done a drabble type thing in so long but this request made me want to again so here we go:
its 1:43am on a thursday night and almost everyone is drunk—yourself included. sanji is DEFINITELY drunk… and also definitely on the verge of hyperventilating.
“are you okay? you’re sweating” nami looks him up and down, concern dotting her expression. the rest of the strawhats aren’t paying attention—they’re too busy cheering you on as you sway to the beat of your chosen song. with each note, a new round of cheers erupt.
“yup,” sanji swallows nervously and tugs on his collar. “it’s just hot.”
nami looks at him likes lost it. “hot? it’s like 18°C in here.”
she’s right. the ac is on full blast in the hazy room, but it doesn’t matter—sanji’s still sweating and you’re still singing in a voice that’s making every nerve in his body thrum with electricity. it doesn’t help that you’ve gotten very very close to him.
too close.
the lyrics wash over him and barely register in his muddled brain. all he can focus on is you—your voice, slow and sultry, your eyes boring into his, and the way your lips curve as you smile at him.
his breath hitches as you lean in. with a wink, you turn away from him, enjoying the way his expressions change—the way his eyes sparkle in your presence.
if only he’d ever make a move.
with a sigh, you back away and turn your attention to the song. it’s almost over but the energy doesn’t fade. the rest of the crew dance with you, moving freely and without inhibition.
luffy excuses himself to the bathroom and the rest of the crew leave to take another shot, so you decide to take zoro’s hand to try and break through his stoicism and urge him to join in on the dancing.
zoro eventually caves—just a little. with your hand still in his, the swordsman twirls you in a way that makes sanji see red. you laugh, entranced in the moment, and end the song with another spin.
for a second, sanji could’ve sworn he heard teeth crack with how hard he clenched his jaw. why was he so irritated? zoro and you were close friends—this shouldn’t be such a bother.
but it is.
you giggle at something zoro says and he smiles back, amused at your reaction.
something in sanji snaps. patience? sanity? both? that’s it. not wanting to see anymore of the two of you, he stands and walks between you, separating you from zoro.
“what the—? what’s your deal?”
with the fakest smile he can manage, the blonde excuses himself and leaves, slamming the heavy door behind him. petty, yes, but he has to let his annoyance out somehow.
somehow, you catch up with him outside the karaoke building. it’s almost pitch black out, save for the flashing neon lights of the city block.
“what’s your problem?”
sanji stares at you in almost disbelief. “are you trying to drive me insane?”
you flush, confused and flustered. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“right,” he scoffs. he needs a smoke. without thinking, he lights a cigarette and takes a draw. he relaxes ever so slightly.
you take a small step back and turn away from the smoke—you’ve never particularly liked the smell. sanji notices and mentally kicks himself. how could he forget? without hesitation, he drops the cigarette and presses it into the concrete with his heel.
“sorry. i forgot.”
“you didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly. “but thanks.”
he shuffles awkwardly, the tension weighing on him. he wishes he could take back the last twenty minutes—wishes he could erase his childish behaviour.
“you and zoro… what was that all about?” he mumbles—still childish apparently.
“what?” you sound baffled.
“the dancing—seemed like you really wanted his attention,” sanji replied calmly, though he is anything but.
you gape at him. “are you kidding? my attention was on you! i was focused on you that entire song!
sanji blinks. “you… what?”
“well, you weren’t going to do anything so—”
you’re interrupted by a sudden pull. sanji’s arm wraps tight around your waist as he presses his lips against yours. the kiss is soft and uncertain—as if he’s scared to push you.
but the second you eagerly kiss sanji back, he responds with fervour. he moves his other hand up to the side of your jaw and gently cradles the side of your face. the contact sets you on fire.
you both reluctantly pull back after a long moment, heavy breaths mingling in the chilly night air.
s: you & sanji share an intimate moment after skypiea
cw: none; fluff
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the tiny bathroom was designed to hold no more than more person yet sanji sat on the sink counter using it as his personal ash tray with you standing directly between his legs where he comfortably rests his thighs against your hips, one hand lazily gripping your waist. a slightly battered cigarette laying between his chapped and scabbed lips, using his free hand to occasionally hold his cigarette.
the sound of the strong waves crashing against the going merry, the creaking caused by the wood shifting against each other and the buzzing from the small lamp above sanji’s head is heard inside the quiet room. nami had stated that the strong winds and rain were nothing to be alarmed of, however even in the grand line nothing was for certain so she volunteered for first watch in case things got too unsettling.
sanji’s shirt thrown across the closed toilet seat with his chest exposed fully covered in bandages as you begin to carefully remove them. your fingers delicately sliding across his back and careful not to disturb the burns that litter his skin. anytime you accidentally graze them sanji tenses and uses it as an opportunity to take a hit from his cigarette, masking his pain through sharp inhales as a way to distract you from his pain he’d hate to see his lover worry over his own mistakes.
the balm chopper made is to be applied twice a day so the burns won’t scar and relieve him of any lingering pain. you scoop some in your hand, glancing up at sanji with an apologetic expression, “i’m sorry, this might sting a little.”
“it’s nothing i can’t handle,” he smiles softly giving your waist a squeeze of reassurance. the second your hand meets his chest he’s quick to bring the cigarette back to his lips inhaling sharply. you look back at him feeling incredibly useless but he’s looking away from you, his eyes flickering from the door to the wall before he exhales the smoke above your head so you aren’t breathing it in.
you return your gaze to his chest finding choppers balm amazing as it’s been slowly causing his burns to disappear. you smile to yourself before remembering just exactly how he got in this situation. eneru mercilessly striking both usopp and sanji more than once rendering them almost completely useless, and once again striking sanji with full force after saving nami from his ship.
your movements had unconsciously slowed which peaked sanji’s interest, your eyes matched the storms of outside; dark and brewing. your soft features that he absolutely adored turned sharp and frightening yet even your anger had a hinge of sadness as your lips downturned into a pout, quivering slightly at whatever thoughts your mind is forming.
before he could ask what’s wrong, you’re already turning to look up at him his heart dropping at what he recognized as anger turning out to be grief, the familiar shine in your eyes as you attempt to blink away the tears that you’re so frantically keeping back. he’s quick to throw out his cigarette and placing both of his hands on your cheeks with concern, his thumbs running soothing circles to calm you down. “hey, what’s wrong sweet girl?”
“i’m sorry!” through your choked sobs, quivering lip, and the horrible lump in your throat you’re finally able to speak up. you want nothing more than lean into his chest and apologize over and over again for being nowhere near him during his fight with eneru. if only you hadn’t run along with robin, you could’ve helped sanji and usopp. you were far from the strongest but you’re still able to hold your own. you push yourself back but sanji’s stubborn grip prevents you from slipping away from him, instead he’s wiping your tears away and stroking your hair. “i should’ve been there. i could’ve helped you.”
“hey-“ he pulls you back so you’re looking at him, his eyes are hard and disappointed not at you rather himself for letting someone as beautiful as yourself to worry over someone like him. he gives you a soft smile, “you did everything and more with robin. stop worrying your pretty little head over meat heads like us.”
“but-“
“and who knows, maybe i got hurt so i can keep you all to myself,” sanji hums, his hand slowly moving back down to you cheek. his cold fingers stroking your cheek lightly with a dazed expression; lovesick eyes as he flickers from your eyes to your lips. zoro would have laughed and insulted his dopey face with how ridiculous he looks but he didn’t care and neither did you. he leans in slightly, “who else would strip me naked to rub balm on me? i’m in heaven.”
you couldn’t help but laugh at his words, the atmosphere brightening almost instantly. his words of reassurance going straight to your heart. rather than playing into his tease, you lean into his hand planting a small kiss on his palm. “i’m sure chopper wouldn’t mind helping you but you really shouldn’t hurt yourself, who else would feed us?”
“blind and deaf with one or two arms, ill always make sure to give you everything you deserve,” sanji claims, his eyes turning into hearts at your actions, ignoring the mention of chopper rubbing the balm on him. the sound of your soft laughter and his attempts of stealing kisses from you ring throughout the hallway of the going merry, replacing what was once quiet.
note. truth be told, i’ve been avoiding my homework by writing which explains two post in less than a week. i should probably focus on school … also i really love skypiea and couldn’t help myself. p.p.s taylor’s sweet nothing really set the mood for this which is why it’s so short.
