Can I request something where both reader and Sanji catch a terrible cold and have a fever 🥺
Sanji x fem!reader (fluff)
A/N: Thank you for requesting this. Hope you enjoy it! <3
The infirmary smelled like eucalyptus and regret.
“You’re both idiots,” Chopper muttered as he paced between the two beds, scribbling on a clipboard with more force than necessary. “How did both of you end up with a high-grade fever?”
Sanji tried to sit up. “It was cold on the last island. Y/N fell asleep on the deck and I—”
“You sat next to me and passed out like ten minutes later,” you croaked, barely able to speak through your sore throat.
Chopper groaned into his hooves. “You shared a blanket! That doesn’t count as smart survival strategy!”
Across the room, Nami leaned in the doorway with a teacup. “Should’ve just listened to me and worn a coat, dumbass.”
“I thought my love would keep me warm,” Sanji murmured weakly, draping an arm over his face like a fainting prince.
You snorted, then coughed violently into the sheets.
Chopper, now absolutely at his limit, flailed. “NO FLIRTING. YOU’RE CONTAGIOUS!”
By the second day, both of you were completely out of it.
Sweaty, sniffly, and miserable.
You lay bundled in too many blankets, sweating through them but still shivering. Sanji was in the cot beside you, eyes half-lidded, shirt half-unbuttoned, muttering to himself between bouts of fevered dreams.
You only realized he was awake when he spoke.
“Y/N…” he murmured, voice rough like sandpaper but still so tender. “Are you… okay?”
You turned your head on the pillow. “No.”
“…me neither,” he admitted, voice cracking.
There was a long pause before he whispered:
“…you still look beautiful though.”
You groaned, pulling the blanket over your face. “Sanji, I’m sweating out of every pore in my body. Don’t make this weird.”
“Too late,” he sighed dramatically. “I think I love you.”
Your heart did a little flip. “You’re delirious.”
“Still true,” he whispered, and then passed out.
Later that night, you woke up burning with fever and barely able to breathe. You whimpered without meaning to, twisting in the sheets.
You didn’t expect a warm hand to gently touch your forehead.
“Y/N…” Sanji was hovering beside your bed, pale and shaking himself, but awake. His golden hair stuck to his forehead. “You okay? You were whimpering.”
Your voice was barely audible. “Feel gross…”
He cupped your cheek, fingers cool and careful. “You’re burning up.”
“No,” he said, dead serious, “it’s because you’re hot.”
You managed a weak smile. “Stop trying to flirt. You’re dying.”
“We’re both dying. Let me have this.”
He sat beside your bed, swaying a little on the stool.
You squinted at him. “You should lie down. You’re pale.”
He chuckled weakly. “I’m always pale.”
He gave in, head dropping gently to your mattress. He was close now—his face beside yours, his hair brushing your shoulder.
“…You make it hard to stay cool,” he murmured, eyes fluttering shut.
You blinked slowly. “…You’re so dramatic.”
“…You’re kinda cute when you’re pathetic.”
When Chopper walked in the next morning, balancing a tray of soup bowls, he stopped dead.
Both of you were tangled in the same bed—blankets thrown off, sweat-soaked, but blissfully asleep.
Sanji had one arm around your waist. Your head was tucked into his shoulder. His face was peaceful for the first time in days.
Chopper turned on his hoof.
“Nope. Not dealing with that,” he muttered, and left the soup in the hallway.
From the hallway, Zoro leaned against the wall, sword over his shoulder.
“Called it,” he muttered.
Sanji Masterlist • One Piece Masterlist
