#sanji POV

[mihawking]

INCLUDES ARTWORK BY BEAUTIFUL SOUL @jaymang0

Just as he was about to lock up, the door creaked open. A gust of cold night air followed the figure of a man who stepped in quietly, his presence immediately commanding the room. There was something about him – an energy, a kind of quiet intensity that made Sanji straighten up, as if subconsciously preparing for something to happen.

He carried himself like someone who had seen things, someone who had been places most people avoided.

Sanji was instantly intrigued.

[chenziee]

Princess Monster

For @cosmicatta!! All credits for this AU and Monkey D. Ola go to her! (Please check out her amazing art and fics <33)

There is going to be a short lawlu extra tomorrow (hopefully, I'm gonna be AFK most of the day) because I have no self-control and I am also not sorry at all :)

Side note: happy birthday Luffy, my one and only sun! Here, have Ola's birth as your gift! I'm gonna try to throw something together for his birthday specifically but uhh who knows ahahah

PLEASE NOTE that this story contains MPREG (you're welcome to use your imagination on who's actually pregnant tho ahaha)

[ Read on AO3 | Extra | Ko-Fi ]

----------

Sanji wasn’t sure what he had expected when Luffy burst into the kitchen one afternoon with Law in tow. He had expected something—after all, Luffy being late for lunch was never without reason—but that ‘something’ sure as hell wasn’t what actually came out of his captain’s mouth.

“We’re having a baby!”

Dead silence settled over the kitchen as everyone present stared at Luffy with an open mouth.

“I’m sorry, who is having what?” Usopp finally asked, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

“Me and Torao. We’re having a baby,” Luffy replied matter-of-factly as he settled into a chair, grabbing for the whole chicken in the middle of the table.

Sanji automatically swatted him, “Hands off, that’s for Nami-san, Robin-chan, and Ikkaku-chan. Are you actually for real?”

“You’re mean,” Luffy whined, chewing on a slab of sea king meat unhappily, his eyes still fixated on the chicken. “But yeah? Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Because the Captain—You—You know…” Penguin tried, waving his hands around vaguely and obviously looking for words.

“My head already hurts…” Torao muttered, dropping into his designated chair next to Luffy, throwing his arm around the back on Luffy’s own chair.

“Well, considering Torao isn’t trying to murder Luffy right now, I guess it’s not just in Luffy’s head,” Zoro laughed, earning himself a glare from both Luffy and Torao—one of those way more threatening than the other—but he didn’t pay them any mind. Instead he raised his mug in a toast. “Congrats.”

That seemed to break the spell that had both of the crews in a stupor. Suddenly, everyone was cheering and congratulating their captains on the happy news, asking a million questions and already making plans for a celebration.

There was Franky crying his eyes out, Bepo hanging onto Law and rubbing his face against him, Penguin and Shachi fighting over who was going to be the godfather—as if the Straw Hats would let them hog that role all to themselves—Chopper so happy he didn’t know what to do with himself, and of course, Robin enveloping Luffy in a warm hug with a happy smile on her face.

Sanji wanted to feel jealous. He would be, very much so in fact, under any other circumstances.

However, right now…

Right now he had more pressing issues on his mind.

Exchanging a look with Nami and Usopp, all three of them nodded, a mutual understanding between them.

Sanji needed a cigarette.

—————

It was that very same night that Sanji found himself in the kitchen once more. This time, however, the atmosphere was much calmer… and also much more serious. The silence that hung over the room was almost oppressing, the unspoken tension felt by everyone present.

Sanji carefully placed a cocktail glass in front of Nami, who only muttered her thanks in a voice so quiet it was barely more than a whisper.

Usopp seemed to not even have it in himself to protest the unfair treatment or demand his own from where he was lying slumped over the table, his eyes staring off into space and fixed on an empty spot on the wall. Sanji could understand the sentiment.

With a sigh, Sanji pulled out a chair and sat down, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it, taking a long drag. He wondered… how many chances to enjoy a smoke in peace did he have left?

It was only minutes later that Usopp finally broke the silence in a completely lifeless voice, not even bothering to unglue his face from the table. “What are we gonna do?”

“Pray,” Sanji replied, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling. Really, what else was there for them?

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for them okay?” Usopp continued, gesturing with his hand as if to stress his words while still keeping his head on the table. “But can you imagine? A person, a human person who is half Luffy and half Torao? That’s not going to be a human person, it’s going to be the thing that will finally sink the Sunny.”

“Tell me about it…” Sanji mumbled. “If that baby eats as much as Luffy does? Do you have any idea what it’s like feeding one Luffy?”

“Not to mention the cost of feeding one Luffy.” Nami nodded in agreement as she rubbed the bridge of her nose; no doubt already worrying about their already strained finances.

Usopp groaned. “Even just picturing their personality is giving me a headache. We are so fucked guys.”

Suddenly, Nami slammed her glass on the table, startling both Sanji and Usopp and making both their heads turn to stare at her. She was silent for a moment longer, her eyes closed but her posture firm. It was obvious she had come to a conclusion in her mind and was about to assume command of their meeting.

Ah, Sanji loved her when she was decisive like this too…

“Listen, you two,” she said once she finally opened her eyes and gave them both a serious look. “We need to stop panicking. What is our advantage?”

“Uhm.” Usopp frowned, taken aback. “That we’re three adults against one monster of a baby?”

Nami rolled her eyes. “That we’ll be there from day one. We can be positive role models and neutralise the awful influence of their parents and their freak-genes.”

“I see. Avert the worst case scenario with positive reinforcement training,” Usopp hummed as he rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

“Don’t talk about the kid like they’re a dog.” Sanji lit up a new cigarette before he wondered out loud, “But Nami-san, can the three of us do it? We’re up against Luffy.”

Nami heaved a deep sigh, resting her cheek against her palm as she sipped on her drink. “Well, what other choice do we have? We can’t just will the problem away and we can’t possibly… I don’t know, edit their bloodline element to not be a Luffy and Torao child.”

Sanji winced, not wanting to even think about any genetic modifications. He had had more than enough of that at three years old for the rest of his damn life. He’d rather have the kid eat twice as much as Luffy and be twice as picky as Law than anything even close to that.

(No, Sanji would never let that umeboshi fight they had on their way to Punk Hazard all those years ago go, thank you very much.)

“So, Nami… what’s the plan? Once they’re born, do we just make sure to feed them a normal person amount and teach them not to say or do creepy shit while Luffy, Torao, and Robin are right there?” Usopp asked.

Nami grubbed at her temple and sighed. “Something like that. We still have a few months, we can work on the actual plan during that time…”

“Here’s hoping,” Usopp groaned, slumping back on the table. “Man, kids are exhausting…”

Taking a drag of his cigarette, Sanji couldn’t help but agree with Usopp. He was so tired already and they only found out about it today. 

Sanji honestly dreaded the day they were born.

—————

Sanji sighed, running his hands through his hair. He wanted a cigarette but Chopper had made him promise to stop smoking. He supposed he could at least go outside for air but that would mean leaving and what if something happened while he was gone? He had to be there, he had to stay in this room with everyone so that they could help if needed. Or be there once they can meet their newest crewmember.

And no, Sanji wasn’t nervous. Not at all. He knew nothing would go wrong and everything would be fine. He was perfectly fine—

“Can you stop pacing around like you’re the goddamned father, Curly?”

“Shut the fuck up, Marimo,” Sanji snapped, baring his teeth at the man who dared call himself his boyfriend but instead was still the same asshole he was when they first met. Why did Sanji tolerate him anyway?

Zoro rolled his eyes, leaning forward to grab Sanji’s hand and pulling him closer—closer until Sanji was basically standing between the swordsman’s legs with his arms wrapped loosely around Sanji’s slowly growing stomach, his presence solid and grounding and suddenly, Sanji felt like he could breathe easier. Ah… Yes, this was why.

Sanji took a deep breath as his shoulders sagged and his whole body relaxed, focusing on the warmth of Zoro’s body against his own instead of his thoughts.

“It’s fine, Chopper’s there,” Zoro said, his voice steady and firm.

“I know. Sorry,” Sanji muttered back. All of a sudden, he felt like the idiot, getting all worked up for nothing. It wasn’t like worrying would help in any way, was it?

“Thank god, the pacing was making me nervous,” Shachi noted with laughter that sounded way too strained to be amused.

Yeah, they were all nervous weren’t they?

Sanji wished it would end already. The wait was the worst.

Suddenly, as if answering his thoughts, the lock clicked and the door to the infirmary creaked.

Everyone’s heads immediately snapped to stare as the door slowly opened, holding their breaths and not moving a muscle, their hearts beating a mile per second in their throats—at least, that was what Sanji’s heart was doing. But considering even the Marimo froze completely against him, he was sure they were all in the same boat.

It felt like hours before Chopper came into view behind the door, looking completely spent. Tears were glistening in his eyes as he looked up, his gaze taking in all the Straw Hats and Hearts that were packed into the waiting room.

Sanji gulped heavily, watching with wide eyes as Chopper started crying—at the same time as his mouth split into the widest, happiest smile Sanji had ever seen on the little reindeer.

“It—” Chopper started but then stopped as he choked on his own words. “It’s a girl. They–they’re–everyone’s doing great.”

Silence settled over the room for a moment as the information slowly sank in. But then…

“WHOO-HOO!!”

Loud cheers erupted around the room as the invisible weight they had been carrying around lifted. Sanji laughed in relief, his lips stretching into a smile. One of his hands automatically came to rest over Zoro’s arm around his stomach, squeezing lightly.

He heard Zoro huff in response, the man only hugging him closer in a wordless gesture that they both understood but neither addressed.

“Shut the fuck up!” someone finally snapped from inside the infirmary when it seemed like the cries and excitement wasn’t about to end anytime soon.

And, as if by magic, everyone went quiet, some even going so far as to slap their hands over their mouths. There were only several muttered ‘sorry, Captain’ and ‘sorry, Torao’s to be heard before the thin film of Law’s room appeared—and only a split second later, the door to the infirmary slammed shut again by itself.

“Well, I guess they really are fine…” Usopp mumbled after a moment.

“So uh. Can we meet her or?” Uni asked uncertainly.

“Who’s going to ask them though?” Penguin asked back, shooting a look at Uni, then the door, then finally at everyone else in the room.

A moment of silence passed before everyone echoed, “Bepo.”

“Why me?” the bear whined.

“Because he’s not going to kill you,” Shachi explained helpfully, which only earned him an unhappy frown from Bepo.

“Stop bullying my bear!” Law snapped from the inside of the infirmary.

“It’s fine~! Come see her!” Luffy called, completely ignoring Law.

The two crews exchanged glances, all of them hesitating to move at first but then Ikkaku sighed and got up. “Cowards,” she shot with a smirk before reaching for the door handle, opening the door and walking inside like nothing was wrong.

“Now she acts all cocky but when it was just the Captain threatening us…” Clione grumbled only to receive general hums of agreement.

But, with the spell broken, everyone slowly shuffled into the infirmary to meet the 'Pirate Princeling (gender neutral)', as Big News Morgans had dubbed her.

Was that going to be 'Pirate Princess' now?

Sanji took a deep breath, preparing himself—he wasn’t even sure what for. He didn’t fight it when Zoro grabbed his hand to pull him inside the room with everyone.

By the time they got there, a crowd was already gathered around the bed, all of them cooing and giggling as they greeted their youngest crew member, everyone pushing at each other to get the better view. It was so crowded in fact, that Sanji couldn’t see a thing.

“My, she is quite adorable,” Robin whilpered, a soft smile on her face.

“Yeah, thank god she looks nothing like the Captain,” Shachi mumbled—unfortunately for him, not quiet enough for the parents to not hear him, as proven by the swift kick he received in response, as well as Luffy’s laughter.

Nami sighed. “How the hell are you both so full of energy? I feel like I’m more exhausted than the two of you combined and I was just waiting out there, not giving birth or watching my partner do that…” she groaned as she rubbed at her face tiredly while everyone else nodded.

“Eh, it wasn’t that bad,” Luffy said with a cute little frown before he glanced at Law. “Right?”

“Yeah, we’ve had worse in a fight than this.” Law shrugged, making everyone exchange a glance.

“You’re both freaks,” Usopp decided before his tone completely changed, turning into the sweetest, most obnoxious voice Sanji had ever heard. “Little Ola, are you hearing this? Your dads are freaks. At least you are cute.”

Sanji bit back a snort. He had to wonder whatever had happened to ‘this kid will be a monster!’ which had been the only thing that Sanji had heard from the sniper in regards to the child since they were told she was on the way. Just how easy was Usopp to sell?

Because Sanji, as happy as he was for his captain and for Torao, still remembered and dreaded what she was going to grow up into. A bottomless pit who ate nothing but tuna-mayo onigiri? Did she have any idea how much work that was going to be?

No. No way Sanji was weak enough to just ignore that.

“Sanji-kun, stop hanging out in the back and come look!” Nami said, waving him over almost… excitedly.

Ah, Sanji really was left alone with his fears, wasn’t he? But he could forgive Nami at least.

“Yes, Nami-san!” he called, his lips curling into a wide smile as he skipped over to their navigator’s side.

“So whipped,” Zoro said with badly suppressed amusement.

Sanji clicked his tongue, reminding himself they were currently in the infirmary with a newborn baby, and that Chopper would cry if they started fighting. Settling to only shooting his so-called boyfriend the dirtiest glare he could manage, Sanji quickly turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

Making his way through the huddle of people, he took in the sight that was the patient’s bed. Luffy and Torao were both sitting on it as if they had just come out for tea and cookies—Luffy was sitting cross-legged on the covers, grinning like the idiot he was with his chin resting against Law’s knee where he had it pulled up. Law let him; he himself played absentmindedly with Luffy’s fingers but he also looked almost bored and ready to get up and leave, just to get some peace and quiet.

If Sanji didn’t know what they had been doing in here up until a few minutes ago, he would have thought they had just walked in on them playing cards with Chopper.

Truly freaks of nature, the both of them.

Sanji huffed, his eyes dropping to where Ikkaku was now cradling the kid in her arms.

He studied her tiny face, round and red, the shape of it so close to Luffy’s that he startled. She looked so comfortable all bundled up in her blanket, resting against the crook of Ikakku’s elbow, her tiny fist curled around Hakugan’s little finger and holding it close. She looked so fragile…

Ah.

He got it now.

And he didn’t care how much she was going to eat anymore.

“So your name is Ola?” Sanji asked as a soft smile pulled on his lips. Placing his right hand over his heart, Sanji bowed deeply. “It’s a pleasure, Princess.”

[brigidfromthecelts]

It's finally done. I have finished my one-shot very indulgent Sanji-centered fanfiction.

Here's the link for A03. Mind the tags ok? And if you like, please leave a comment! 🥰

[wellfine]

An extremely embarrassing screencap redraw for both me and Sanji

[paperultra]

aries and the turtle.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None

asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars

The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”

“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”

“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”

Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”

Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?

“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”

Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.

Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.

(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)

Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.

“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.

“That’s good.”

He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.

“How does the madam like it?” he asks.

You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”

Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.

“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”

You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.

“Sure,” you whisper.

And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.

“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”

“Yours?” he questions.

“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”

A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”

“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”

“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”

You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.

“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.

There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”

“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”

“What does it mean?”

This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.

“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”

Oh.

Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.

“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”

You take a sharp breath.

“You already do,” he hears you whisper.

And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.

Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.

You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.

Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.

[diamondsheep]

GET BOOPED !!!🐾

[maofa]

sanouso nation how are we feeling?!?!

[sanji-lemon]

- S-stop eating me, marimo!...

- Shut up.

[crazycoven]

♡ happy valentines day ♡

[thrillersbark]

[pooks]

He had no idea why he took in the boys as his own, really. He didn't gove himself any moment to hesitate; it was a decision he made in a second and a real man always stands by his word.

After all, he had given up one of his legs to make sure the two boys could survive longer on the food he gave them. But of course, he hadn't counted that the little red-headed brat would be a self-sacrifical idiot and eat lesser to make sure his little brother got fed.

It wasn't until they were past 70 days on the damned rock when the boy suddenly fell ill.

'You stupid brat! Don't you see that your death does nothing but hurting your brother?' Zeff scolded the child in his mind. Even if he'd say it with words, the boy wouldn't hear him as he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

There was something the boy had said. One thing that raised the first red flag.

"...y'think...i'll see Mama once I'm gone? A sinner like me...shouldn't go to heaven...like she did."

Sinner. The boy called himself a sinner. From the first time he met him on the restaurant ship, the redheaded boy had fought fiercly, defended his little brother, jumped overboard to save him, sacrificed his share of the food for him, collected morning dew for him...and he called himself a sinner?

Zeff later learned the boy's name was Ichiji.

One o'clock.

The sun was high on the skies when they were saved by a ship.

---

They sure didn't look like it, but apparently they were born on the same day. The tomato-haired boy was twenty minutes older than the eggplant.

"Are you twins or something?" One of the cooks at the Baratie had once asked.

Ichiji took a good three seconds before he answered. "...yes." He simply said before he turned on his heels and continued to passing up the tables, fullfilling his role as the little waiter.

The tomato boy smiled less than the eggplant, there was something haunting in his eyes, he never talked more than necessary and he did his chores without a single complaint.

Sanji's temper was like fire, but Ichiji...was like ice.

However, he had only eyes for his little brother. Everytime Sanji nagged about the All Blue and shone brighter than the sun, Ichiji looked at his baby brother with a soft gaze and a slight smile on his usually cold expression. His permanent frown seemed to have washed away...until he was called back to work.

It was alarming to see that kind of behavior in a child; Ichiji had built walls around himself to protect himself. He didn't trust anyone, that message was clear and he only loved one person in the world; Sanji, his little brother and his other half.

The first time Zeff ever saw that smile aimed at him was when he made spicy seafood pasta for the boys' birthday, celebrating them becoming 11 years old.

"It's really delicious." Ichiji smiled.

Apparently Red-Leg Zeff have two sons now.

Ichiji and Sanji. A tomato can and an eggplant.

[artemish]

Sous chef: part 2 | opla!Sanji x fem!Reader

word count: 3.8k

genre/tags: Sanji x reader; first-person pov; fluff; pining (but is it mutual??); angst; hurt/comfort; friends to lovers

warnings: brief anxiety mention

summary: following their late night kitchen heart to heart, things become more complicated when the other Strawhats take notice…

a/n: thankful for the support for the last part! ♥️

Continuing my low key self indulgent series hehe.. 🤭 It took me longer than I wanted to write this next part but I was determined and here we are lol 😅

taglist 💕 @vespidphoenix @dark-academia-slut

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰!

(。･ω･｡)ﾉ♡

“Nami, we are just friends.”

I stated this as matter-of-factly as I could.

“Right, and Zoro likes tea with his lunch instead of beer. Cut the shit, y/n.”

Our sweet navigator hadn’t budged from the spot she was judging me from.

Her eyes were determined to pierce through my shield, but I held fast. I flapped my arms up, exasperated by the fact that she kept pushing.

“Look, I couldn’t sleep so I came to the kitchen, I fell really hard and Sanji helped me feel better, that’s all.”

She smirked, “Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“No,” I scoffed in disgust, “not like that. He was also awake, taking note of our supplies, before I came in, got knocked by the swell, and he patched me up. Then we were talking for some time, and I guess we were both more tired than I thought. Just fell asleep, right then and there.”

“Look,” she said, standing up, placing her hands on her hips, “as much as I love him, I would love him even more if I didn’t have him flirting my way. So if he’s into you now, well that makes me a very happy woman who can finally navigate this boat in peace. That being said, I would still like to know what’s going on between you-“

“There’s nothing going on,” I snapped, “and there never will be.”

I didn’t intend to come off so aggressively and I saw her step back when she heard the anger in my voice.

“Sorry,” I breathed, “didn’t mean to get worked up like that.”

But she took no notice of my apology and pointed at me saying, “Does this have to do with the thing you still won’t tell me about? Is that what’s been holding you back?”

I rubbed my forehead with my hand, “yeah, it is.”

She shook her head and crossed her arms, as her frustration reached its peak.

“You know,” she said, this time with a knowing smirk, “secrets come out. They always do. With time and through fate, they always come out. I mean just look at me. I thought I had it all worked out, thought I could keep my secrets to myself.

“But what Luffy taught me, what this whole crew taught me, is that you shouldn’t have to carry your burdens alone. Secrets are better shared with those who can share the load.”

“I know, Nami,” I sighed, “but I can’t tell you, nor the crew, least of all Sanji. You know how he gets.”

“You know you can trust us, but you still don’t want to tell us? Why?”

“I can’t answer that.”

She looked up at the ceiling, as if asking the gods for help, but of course she got no reply.

“I’m not going to get anywhere with you on this, am I?” she sighed. I shook my head.

She paced about the room as I sat back down on my futon, bringing my knees up to my face. She sat down next to me, letting out a big sigh as she did.

“I’m sorry, Nami, but I promise when the time is right I’ll tell you.”

She glared back at me and looked like she was about to say something, but was cut off from a voice outside our door.

“Nami, have you seen y/n around? I’m trying to- oh. You’re here”

Sanji stood in our doorway, looking a bit flustered but still managing to flash us a wide grin.

“Morning ladies, you’re both looking as lovely as a golden sunrise on a calm sea.”

Nami and I rolled our eyes in unison.

“Morning Sanji, had a good sleep did we?” Nami poked, and I felt my cheeks flush red.

“It was good,” he sighed, “until the chill set in and I realised I was alone in the kitchen.”

“Oh,” she said, “were you with someone last night?”

I could have strangled her right then.

“What, oh no, I was ugh, counting beans and I must’ve dozed off. Didn’t realise I wasn’t in my cabin, you know with the others, yeah.”

“Counting… beans?” I could see her fighting every urge to cackle at his pathetic explanation.

“Ugh, yeah,” he stumbled through his words again, “the beans in the barrel. Coffee beans, green beans, soy beans-“

“Well, you should borrow a blanket or a shawl next time to stay warm, in case you fall asleep again. Y/n has a spare one, you should ask her for it.”

I shoved her shoulder and saw her biting down hard on her lip.

“I might,” he said, looking at me then, “as long as I know she’s keeping warm too.”

I couldn’t take this back and forth any longer, and I couldn’t stand the sight of him in the doorway, looking like a lovesick puppy dog waiting for a bone.

“Sanji,” I said finally, “hi, hello, good morning. Why are you here?”

“Oh well, madam, I was actually looking for you.”

“Me? Why were you looking for me?”

“Well, I’m taking you up on that offer, since breakfast is a big one today.”

“Offer? What offer?”

“You being my sous chef, remember?”

Shit, I thought, I’d forgot, I’m screwed!

“Oh of course, yes, just let me ugh change into something more chef-like. Yeah.”

“Alright, my swan, I’ll start prepping while you get ready.”

He flashed us both a grin and walked back to the kitchen, completely missing Nami’s face of pure joy.

It was as if what she had just witnessed between us was better than any treasure she could ever imagine to find in all the four seas and no amount of berry could be used to describe how much she enjoyed that.

Nami stretched out on my futon, exhaling loudly. She rested her head on my lap, and stared wistfully up at the ceiling. I was numb to her and everything around me.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

Ever since we met him at the Baratie, she noticed how he would go that little bit further with me, how his hugs lingered longer, and how his words were kinder.

And she had constantly reminded me of this fact.

“Even if I never get to know all your secrets,” she said quietly, “at least I can hold this one against you. You know, he only cuts your carrots into heart shapes, when he makes us soup.”

“Really?”, I lied, “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Can you even cook?” she asked after another silent moment had passed between us.

I looked down at her. She knew what I was going to say.

“No.”

I changed into some black slacks and a t-shirt, and headed over to the kitchen.

The room was alive with the sounds of rashers of bacon sizzling intensely on the pan, the crackling of flames within the stone oven and the soft, rhythmic thumping of metal on wood. Smoke rose from the stove and the oven, hanging in the air and carrying the sweet scent of bread, the earthy aroma of mushrooms, butter and thyme, and salted meat to every corner of the room.

Sanji had his back to me as he sliced through potatoes in halves then quarters and then smaller still, probably for hash browns.

He moved the knife intently, with a ferocity that seemed barely human, and yet the potato pieces did not come out mangled or broken as one would expect from such intensity, but instead in perfect little cubes, each evenly portioned to form the hash shapes. To say I was intimidated was an understatement.

“Doesn’t really look like you need my help here.” I had moved back towards the doorway unconsciously, perhaps hoping I could get out unscathed.

“On the contrary, y/n,” he said over his shoulder, “I’m swamped this morning and your help would be invaluable.”

I couldn’t let him see how deeply underprepared I was, or how concerning it was that I had gotten this far in life without ever making a real meal or that I lacked any and every culinary skill there was. But it was too late now.

“Oh, ugh, are you sure? I mean you look like-“

“Grab that apron over there and come over.” He pointed to an apron hanging near the doorframe, without looking back at me, and continued to make his way slicing through various other vegetables he was adding to the meal. I begrudgingly put it on.

“Can you please crack those eggs over there into that bowl?”

He pointed to a large silver bowl that was on the counter, right of where he was dealing with the vegetables and meats.

“We’re going to make omelettes and everything else will go with them. We have to get as much as we can from this batter since we also have to eat, not just Luffy, so don’t worry about adding an egg or two extra.”

He smiled, and I melted like butter in a pan at the sight of him.

I stood beside him and stared down at the eggs in the carton, and at the other cartons stacked against the wall.

It was then that I felt my palms tingle and swell with moisture, as I tried to move my hand to pick up an egg. In an instant, I felt my throat dry up, and I felt a rising surge of heat from within me flush over my cheeks, and panic pulse through my chest.

Thump, thump, thump, THUMP.

The sound of my own heartbeat flooded my ears and nothing else.

My breath quickened and I became acutely aware of it. I tried to take in air in small, quick breaths. I didn’t even notice that Sanji had stopped cooking and had turned me to face him, holding my shoulders and calling my name.

“Y/n, are you alright? Can you hear me? Hey, it’s okay, you’re okay, y/n.”

But I couldn’t hear him. My vision blurred over, as my eyelids flickered sporadically. He stopped calling out to me, perhaps realising that it was no use in this state, but continued to hold me steady, rubbing my arms as he did.

My mouth still gaped wide, trying to take in breath but as he held me, my breathing began to even out.

Gods, I thought, this is what I panic about?

“Sanji,” I felt my mind returning, “Sanji. Oh, my gods, Sanji, I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he said, “don’t apologise. Are you okay?”

He stepped back, keeping one arm on me still, and reached for a glass of water. I faced the floor, too quickly perhaps. My head felt hollow.

“I should’ve told you upfront,” I began, “that I don’t know how to cook, that I’ve never learnt or tried, or rather had the patience to. I’ve just survived on the cooking of others. I shouldn’t have offered to be your sous chef last night, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Woah, hey, it’s alright, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, oh my gods. The truth is… I’m terrified.”

I could see a slight smirk appear on his face as he listened to me.

“Of me or of cooking?,’ he chuckled, “and please, don’t say me.”

“What if I said both?” I said, sheepishly.

“Well, then I’d say you have nothing to be afraid of and I can teach you how to handle both.”

I felt my breath catch again as butterflies began to flutter and whirl violently around inside me, and I thought about how he could probably use my face to light the pan again with the heat that radiated off my red cheeks.

“Sanji, stop that, I-I really know nothing about cooking. I don’t even know what to do with these eggs.” That seemed to get a genuinely worried reaction out of him, as he furrowed his brow in confusion.

“You don’t know how to crack an egg?”

“Oh, I didn’t even know that's what you wanted me to do with them.”

“How else would you make an omelette? How else… would they get in the bowl?”

I was silent. He inhaled deeply as he studied me with those sparkling blue eyes. A moment of realisation seemed to seize him then, as he guided me to the bench and sat me down.

He handed me the glass of water, made a motion with his hand for me to drink, and as I tipped the cooling swell down my throat he said, “I’m sorry if I made you anxious. I didn’t know you couldn’t cook, m’lady.

“Please, if you’re not comfortable, don’t feel like you have to stay here or like I’m forcing you to be here, it’s alright really, but just know that… well I do like your company all the same.”

Before I could speak, he put his hand up to gesture to wait, stepped away quickly to grab the bacon and mushroom mix in the pan off the stove, and put out the flames from the oven before coming back to squat down on his haunches in front of me, holding the bench to keep him steady.

He must’ve noticed how big my eyes looked staring at him.

He reached out his free hand hesitantly but I took it in both my hands, perhaps a little too eagerly, as he wobbled from being surprised by my grip.

“Sorry,” I said, helping him balance, “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t tell you because, well, I was embarrassed. You’re such an incredible cook and everything you make is so brilliant and delicious, I just couldn’t say no to you last night. But I feel like an idiot now, I should’ve just told you.”

I could’ve sworn I saw his cheeks turn pink as I spoke. I fidgeted nervously with his hand, feeling the coarseness of his fingertips and how soft his palms were in comparison.

“You know,” he began, “if you wanted to learn, all you had to do was ask, madam. But tell me, how’d you survive without cooking anything then?”

“I mostly ate whole foods,” I said, “things like bread, all sorts of bread, fruits, wheels of cheese and dried meats, things I knew would keep or could be eaten quickly. And if I had a pot, anything I could just chuck in with a bit of salt and pepper. Better to survive on that then nothing at all.”

He smiled a soft smile and brought his other hand to where our hands were and pulled me up to stand as he did. I had to look up as he said, “Well today I’m going to teach you how to crack an egg, and maybe make an omelette.”

I sat on a stool to face him, opposite to where he was cooking on the benchtop.

“Now watch carefully,” he said, “you hold the egg like this.”

He took the egg in his right hand, the bowl in his left.

“Crack it against the rim of the bowl, so that the break is clean.” With a deft hand, he tapped it firmly against the bowl, and split the shell with his fingers so the yoke fell out perfectly into the silver crater below. He made it look so easy.

“Now you,” he said, beckoning me to come to him. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you.”

I stood in front of the bowl and eggs and he stood behind me. Taking my hands, he guided my left to hold the bowl and my right to hold the egg.

“Hold the bowl firm now,” he said and I nodded in reply. “Keep the egg sideways in your hand, so it’ll make a clean break in the shell.”

His mouth was so close to my ear as he leaned in and whispered his instructions, I felt the heat of his breath against my neck.

Goosebumps rose and trickled all across my body as I felt the strength of his hands against mine. Holding the top of my hand, he moved my arm to make the action.I suppose it made sense for a chef to have as firm a grip as he did, but I hadn’t thought about it before. And I also hadn’t thought about how that grip was making me feel.

“And now we just tap it firmly but still with power on that edge.”

As he brought my hand with the egg down to crack against the bowl, I was more aware of how good it felt to be touched by him, and that his face was only inches away from mine, and the goosebumps, and how if I just turned to the right, just a little…

CRACK!

The egg split and I jolted a little, as he guided my hand over the bowl and let the yoke fall out to mix in with the previous yoke.

“You’ve done it, madam, you’ve officially cracked an egg.”

I nudged him with my elbow as he laughed, and I hoped he didn’t see me blush.

He showed me how to whisk then, when we had cracked the amount he needed, and when to add the rest of the ingredients. He showed me how to butter the pan, told me oil was good too, showed me how to pour, and wait and flip, and how to watch the colour, how to make sure it didn’t burn.

He broke off a small bit, let me taste it, and I remembered tasting his finger a little too.

At the very end he showed me how to serve the dish and make it look beautiful.

“Almost as beautiful as you” he said, which forced me to bury the urges I felt even deeper down or I would’ve abandoned my oath right then and there.

I took it all in as best as I could but I found that I had made the most effort to memorise his touch, his breath, his smile, his sparkling eyes as they looked at me, and how it felt to be guided by those hands knowing I couldn’t guide them the way I wanted to. Or where I wanted.

By that time, everyone else had made their way to the kitchen and we seated ourselves around the bench. Usopp told tales of his daring adventures while Luffy reacted with wows and shouts of awe, and Zorro sat silently eating as much as Luffy it seemed. Nami gave me a wry smile as she sat between Sanji and me.

“Well done, sous chef,” she whispered, and I glanced up at Sanji to see if he heard her. He met my eyes with a grin.

“I hope you all enjoyed your omelettes this morning,” he said cheerfully, “you have the lovely y/n to thank for them today, I was merely her assistant.”

Luffy gaped, “you made this y/n?”

“Yes but-” I began, but he raised his goblet and said, “A toast to the best omelettes I have ever eaten in my life and the best cooks in the East Blue!”

Everyone raised the mugs in agreement and cheered and drank and laughed, and I could only blush and think how lucky I was to find this crew, even if it may only be for a short while longer.

* * *

I found Zoro on the lower deck, napping against the mast, as I made my way down to mop the deck. With one hand placed on his hilt and the other behind his neck, he slouched lazily, unbothered, as I began on the floor in front of him.

“So you like the waiter huh?” He said after I had been at it for some time.

He didn’t open his eyes.

I stopped and leaned on the mop. “I just asked him to teach me how to cook, that's all.”

“I don’t know what you see in him.”

“There’s nothing there, I just-”

He let out a loud “ha” sound and opened his eyes.

“Here I thought you were gonna stay low, keep your guard up and stay on until you needed to, like you told me in Shellstown, but now you're drooling in your soup over the waiter, who’s so eager to serve. So much for that plan of yours.”

I gripped the mop handle so hard I thought it would splinter into my hand.

I moved close to him so that my words came across as a whispered growl. “You know nothing.”

“I know that I risked my ass to bring you with us,” he growled back, “and that keeping you with us is an even greater risk. I know that if the others knew you were a swordsman, a hunted one at that, they’d ask more questions than was good for them or you. And I know I’m the only one you can trust out here and the only one who can help you track that Baroque works shithead before he gets you too. So please, don’t try to bullshit me.”

He was still slumped lazily against the mast but his eyes betrayed no sign of weakness. I crouched down so that I was eye level with him, holding the mop to steady myself.

“You don’t think I can keep my own feelings in check?”

“I’m not trying to piss you off, y/n,” he said, his demeanour unchanged, “but I can’t be quiet either. You said to call you out if I saw you get distracted.”

“He’s not a distraction.”

“But he won’t be safe either way.”

“Why are you so concerned all of a sudden,” I scowled, “it’s not like you give a shit about him. You two are such best friends, aren’t you?”

Zorro made a groan of frustration as he got up, his swords clinking against each other like bells. I rose to meet his eyes, still clinging to my mop.

“You swore to me that nothing would get in the way of you avenging what you lost and that you would lose nothing and no one else on your path. I swore that I would help you see it through to the end.” He clinked his swords as he rested his hand on top of the hilts. “So I’m warning you now,” he continued solemnly, “if you’re not more careful, you may keep that oath but lose something after all.”

He held my gaze for a moment, his eyes a fiery dark amber in the sunlight, before walking away slowly and down into the bowels of the ship.

My heart pounded in my ears.

My hands ached from where I had strangled the wooden mop handle.

As Zoro walked out of my view, I looked up to the balcony on the mid deck above and saw Sanji standing there, brooding it seemed.

No… watching me.

Swirling grey tendrils of smoke coiled in the air as he pulled a long breath and puffed out.

The glow of his cigarette reflected like fiery embers in the darkness of his glare.

[astrozure]

[que llevo rato tratando de decirte que ya no puedo vivir sin ti]

[spinningelectro]

Do you think of me

When you look to the sea

I know it's hard to grow

When you're pushed to your knees

I know hard times will pass

Your love it will last

Darling we will never break

[wellfine]

Thirst traps but only from the neck up

[god-usopps-preacher]

Sanji and Luffy's relationship to me feels like a girl and her very aggressive little purse dog that she's loves so much that she believes it could do no wrong ever, and everyone else wants to get as far from the dog as possible.

Like back in East Blue the crew reunited at Arlong Park to take back their crewmember, and Luffy shows up with the very aggressive waiter from the restaurant they just visited and suddenly this guy's in the gang now too.

Usopp already had beef with the guy, Zoro gained beef with the guy, and Nami had her own shit going on. No one in the crew but Luffy liked him at that point, but he was Luffy's special little guy so I guess the blond man gets to fight with the gang in the season final battle.

Just four friends and that guy Luffy bought with him.

That's like the setup dynamic for them and even when Sanji fully bonds with the other crew I still feel like this is them.