#this is borderline a self insert if i'm being honest but i hope everyone else can enjoy it too lmao

[rollinouttahere-writes]

@kazenomegaminowanpisu I'm sorry this took so long, but I hope you like it! Thank you so much for this request. As someone who loves Sanji and is also very passionate about cooking/baking, this was suuuuper self indulgent and I loved writing it!

Sweet Tastes and Gentle Touches

Sanji x Fem!Reader

2.3k words

The sweet embrace of a good night’s rest is something that often evaded Sanji for one reason or another. Whether it be nightmares or the simple fact that sleeping in the same room as a bunch of other men was hardly peaceful, he knew he didn’t get anywhere near enough sleep to be healthy.

Zeff and the other cooks on the Baratie got on his ass regularly when he was caught having late night smoke breaks when he should have been sleeping. Here though, he usually didn’t have to worry about being lectured by anyone. Everyone else was either sleeping or was also up when they shouldn’t be so they had no room to judge. 

Currently, he was having another one of those sleepless nights. It was too early to be getting a head start on breakfast, so his only plan for the time being was to smoke outside until it was closer to that time.

At least that was the plan, but then he saw light coming from the kitchen. His teeth ground together in frustration. That damned bottomless pit of a captain is at it again! He could’ve sworn Luffy was still asleep when he left the room, when did he get into the kitchen?! He stuffed his pack of cigarettes back into his pocket and stormed into the invaded kitchen to save the crew from Luffy inhaling a week’s worth of food in two minutes. 

He busts open the door, “How many times do I have to tell you to stay out of here outside of mealtimes?!” Sanji’s voice became louder with each word, punctuated by the door slamming into the wall from the force that he kicked it with.

What he had expected to see was Luffy attempting to break the locks on the fridge and pantry. 

What he actually saw was his dear, sweet, beloved (y/n) looking back at him with a startled expression. One of the cabinets was open and you were in the middle of pulling down the kettle.

Sanji’s heart stopped and horror from his actions clawed at his throat. He had just yelled at the love of his life like an actual monster. 

You appeared to be as confused as you were surprised and began putting the kettle back where it came from, “I-I’m sorry, I guess I must have forgotten.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no! I didn’t mean that! I mean- I did but I thought you were Luffy! NOT that I think you look like him, you don’t, but he’s usually the one sneaking into the kitchen at night!” Sanji all but ran at you and snatched the kettle from your hands as he spoke a mile a minute. “Sit down! I’ll make some tea for you! Just relax!”

Sanji wanted to throw himself overboard for his transgression against you, and the only thing keeping him from doing so was the stronger urge to pamper you after having the audacity to raise his voice like that.

The situation seemed to have clicked in your mind, and like the angel you were, you simply giggled at the misunderstanding. In his humble opinion, he felt like he deserved to be punted into the sea and screamed at, but you just laughed it off. 

He didn’t deserve you. Which is why he’s kept his feelings close to the chest. As close to his chest as someone like him could, at least. Naturally, he was powerless to the need to fawn over you as much as every other lady that crossed paths with him, but he did nothing to let you know that it was more than the kind of fawning everyone else received. 

“You don’t need to do all that, Sanji, I can do it,” your hand rested on his shoulder, making his breath catch in his throat. You smiled warmly at him, “Did I wake you up? I’m awfully sorry if I did, I thought I was being quiet.”

“No! I was already awake, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you could never do anything wrong in his book. Using the hand not holding the kettle, he placed it on the small of your back and guided you to the table, “Please allow me do this for you, I insist.”

Much to his delight, you did take a seat. You positioned the chair so that you could watch him as he zipped around the kitchen to gather everything he needed to make your tea. There was no need to ask what you wanted, he already had it memorized. 

Glancing over his shoulder, he caught you staring at him in what he believed to be amusement. You made eye contact briefly before he snapped back to what he was doing with his face feeling hot. He cleared his throat, “What are you doing awake at this hour, (y/n)-chan? Is there something bothering you?”

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong, I just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. Usually I do some late night baking when this happens, but since everything else was locked up I settled for tea,” you explained casually, chin resting on your fist.

Sanji froze and a giddy feeling bubbled up from within him. Who was he to pass up the golden opportunity that he was currently being presented with. After doing what he could to school his expression so he didn’t look completely desperate, he turned to face you, “Do you still want to bake something? I would love to join you if you’d be so gracious.” 

“Are you sure? Don’t you want to at least try to get some sleep before breakfast?”

Ever the sweetheart, you were kind enough to be concerned for his well being. Everything was fine though, just being able to spend time with you would energize him more than a full night's rest. Sanji grinned, “Of course I’m sure, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing right now.” He fully meant that.

“Alright, who am I to deny the help of such a talented cook?” You stood up from the chair and breezed past him to wash your hands at the kitchen sink. 

Sanji is pretty sure his heart just burst from the compliment, that was the only explanation for how hot his chest felt. It’s not like what you were doing here was anything new, you two work together in the kitchen all the time.

The first time you’d offered your help, he’d assumed it was just to be polite and nothing more. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to put yourself out like that, but when you insisted that you actually really enjoyed cooking he caved.

He tried to tell himself that the butterflies in his stomach were nothing unusual. This was just because he was happy to be around someone else who had a passion for culinary arts again. That was it. Definitely. 

Oh, who was he kidding? Sanji was head over heels for you by the end of your first cooking session together. How could he not be? You two worked so well together, it was like he’d found his other half. His soulmate, if such a thing existed.

Not that he was doing anything about it. He felt like you deserved better than him, and he wasn’t going to give you a chance to make that decision for yourself. 

Sanji was torn from his thoughts by your hand waving in front of his face. He reeled back in surprise and you giggled, “Are you sure you aren’t too tired?” Shit, had you been calling his name and he hadn’t heard you?

“Positive!” His voice cracked, and he wanted to throw himself out the window because of it. Mercifully, you didn’t comment on the embarrassment and only quirked a brow at him. Sanji cleared his throat, “I���m wide awake, I promise. What did you want to bake?”

“We bought some strawberries at the island yesterday, right? Could we make a strawberry shortcake?” You looked at him hopefully, waiting for his answer.

“Of course, anything for you, (y/n)-chan!” Sanji slipped around you and fished the keys for the fridge and pantry out of his pocket. Behind him, he could hear you digging out the required utensils for the cake.

Not even that marimo could wipe the smile off Sanji’s face right now, he’s sure of it. He couldn’t help but notice that both of you were still clad in your sleepwear. His consisted of sweatpants and a tank top. You were wearing a beautiful nightgown in your favorite color with a silk robe over it, both of which were gifted to you by himself. He knew it would flatter your form and was thanking the gods for being able to bear witness to this sight to confirm it.

His imagination was running wild from this imagery, though. It’s almost like you’re married and this is a late night baking session in your own private home.

Sanji violently shook his head. This train of thought was going places that it absolutely shouldn’t be!

The necessary ingredients were placed on the counter and he risked a glance in your direction. You were currently pulling on an apron over your head and tying it behind your back with a practiced ease. 

Considering how flustered he was from his earlier thoughts, he kept his words to you concise and to the point. He didn’t trust himself not to say something stupid if he started rambling, so once you two decided who was doing what, you fell into a comfortable silence.

Sanji had taken it upon himself to beat the egg whites and sugar into a meringue while you mixed together the rest of the wet ingredients. Quiet humming fills the kitchen, an endearing trait of yours that he felt blessed to have become so familiar with. Tonight’s tune was a melody he didn’t recognize. Whether it was a song from your past or something you made up on the spot was beyond him, but he didn’t care, he simply enjoyed it.

After finishing the meringue, he divided it up. Half into your mixture, while the other half remained in his bowl to be combined with the dry ingredients and oil. Sanji let you take care of bringing the batter together while he prepped the cake pan.

The cake was in the oven not long after that, leaving the two of you to prep the whipped cream frosting and strawberries while you wait. In the time it took Sanji to whip the frosting into shape, you had finished cutting the strawberries that go in between layers. You eyed the remaining ones, debating what to do with them.

“Do you know how to cut them into roses?” Sanji crept behind you, eagerly awaiting your answer.

“Nope, can’t say I do.” You looked at him over your shoulder with a smile, “I don’t suppose you’d want to show me, would you?”

Ah, so you knew where he was going with that. If he had a bit more shame, he’d be embarrassed at how predictable he was. Luckily for him in this moment, he didn’t. He swallowed an imaginary lump in his throat and went for it.

“I would love to,” he answered quickly. Closing the already small gap between you, he was pressed up against your back. His arms went around you, with his hands resting over your own to guide you.

This was a bold move, he’d admit it (to himself only), but it was worth the risk. It wasn’t every day that he got to be so close to you, so he was taking in and treasuring every aspect of it. From being able to feel your softness first hand to his senses being flooded with the smell of your shampoo, all of it was intoxicating. If not a little nose-bleed inducing, but that was neither here nor there.

Oh wait, the strawberries.

He positioned your hand to lightly cut at the sides of the fruit, “It’s simple, really, I know you’ll pick it up quickly. All you do is make a thin slice and gently peel it back. Then you rotate and repeat this until you’ve run out of room and go up.” Sanji kept guiding your hand for the entire strawberry, even though he knew you were skilled enough to have picked it up after the first or second example.

Fortunately, you indulged him and patiently waited for his hands to retreat on their own before trying it for yourself. As expected, the next one came out perfectly. You admired your handiwork before holding it up to Sanji, “What do you think, did I do this right?” 

You really didn’t need to ask. It was clear for anyone to see that you had nailed it, and he was sure that you knew that. Yet you’d asked for his opinion anyways. He was going to wax poetic about how this was the most expertly crafted strawberry rose he’d ever seen, but was distracted when he picked up on how hard you were staring at him. Suddenly feeling self conscious, he asked you what was wrong.

Rather than answer, you reach out to him with your empty hand and use your thumb to wipe some frosting off his chin. Then, nonchalantly, you brought the same thumb to your mouth to sample the errant bit of frosting. You hummed and nodded, “This frosting is great, though it looks like you may have been stirring a little too vigorously over there.” You lightly elbowed his side as you teased him.

Sanji hit the ground like a sack of potatoes, blood gushing out of his nose like a faucet on full blast. You were going to be the death of him, and he meant that in the best way possible. 

If he died by your sweet touch, then he would go out a happy man.