Taste Test [Sanji x Reader]

Life with the Straw Hat pirates was undoubtedly fun. It felt like a second family, to be honest, to replace the empty feeling you got everytime you sailed away from your understanding parents and now six year old adorable brother. You were glad Luffy had asked you to join his crew once he saw your skill at lying. It did come in handy every time the crew got into a pinch with someone else, especially the Marines.

Today was a rare day off, with smooth sailing ahead and a beautiful ocean to accompany it. Not that you could swim in it. Setting foot in the cool water could trigger off any number of hungry sea monsters looking for a bite to eat.

This fact pissed you off quite a bit. For one, it was the middle of summer, and very hot. Your clothes felt sticky and suffocating, even though you were wearing a [f/c] tank top and a borrowed blue mini skirt from Nami. 

Secondly, you couldn’t go sun bathing with Nami and Robin, because even a few minutes in the sun gave you a massive headache. What kind of sea-faring pirate got heat-stroke in a matter of minutes.

Finally, everyone else in the crew was occupied with something else. The afore-mentioned girls were sun-bathing, Sanji was cooking, Zoro was napping, Luffy was stuffing himself at the table (much to the cook’s distaste) with Chopper, and Usopp was fixing some contraption of his in his room. Leaving you completely and utterly bored.

You obviously weren’t going to bother the sun bathers because they were enjoying their first moments of peace since who knows when. Waking up Zoro wasn’t going to happen since a) it was practically impossible and b) it was signing your death warrant. Luffy and Chopper were too busy eating to pay attention to anything that wasn’t food, and if you helped Usopp, chances were that said contraption would blow up, and you really didn’t want to deal with that.

So really, there was only one thing you could do. That would be hanging out with the resident chef, Sanji. But that in itself posed a problem.

Because you found that everytime you so much looked at the perverted blond man, you felt like you were having a mini heart attack. You had ignored it the first time it happened. But after heart attack number twenty one, you had gone poring over some medical books. There had been nothing that even remotely sounded like your condition.

One day, however, while going through a book shop on land after you had decided you wanted to start a personal library, you discovered what had happened. You were in love.

When you first found out, all hell broke loose. You refused to talk to anyone and stayed in your cabin for a full week, reading the books you had brought with you. After those had finished, you were forced to go to the outside world to get some more. You were also really hungry.

You forced yourself to start acting normal (or in your case, less crazy than you already were) around Sanji. Because you weren’t planning on ever confessing to him. You were fine with waiting for this. . . this disease called love to pass on, or for someone to find a cure.

You sighed and stretched out from your position on your bed. Facing the man who had infected you with love was definitely less torturous than sitting, bored out of your mind, and slowly cooking to death.

Barefoot, you hopped off and walked towards the kitchen. Sanji was facing the freezer when you entered, holding a tray. The burst of freezing air that flew over you was cold enough to cause goosebumps, but was definitely welcome. “What are you cooking, Sanji-san?” you sang out, leaning on the doorway.

“[y/n]-chan!” he responded. “Just making some fruit popsicles.”

“Great! It’s so hot in here,” you groaned.

He walked over to you with the tray in hand. “Close your eyes, [y/n]-chan!” You did as you were told, hoping the warmth that spread across your cheeks at his tone wasn’t too bright of a blush. “Now, open your mouth!” Weird, but okay. Something cold and sweet slipped into your mouth, and you recognized it instantly as a popsicle. “Keep those eyes closed! Guess what flavor!” It was sugary with a slight hint of sourness, a delicious blend of the opposite flavors.

“Ish it strawberry?” you mumbled out.

“Good job! Here’s another one!” he said as soon as you were left sucking on the stick of the treat. This one tasted like citrus, tangy and just barely bitter.

“Orange,” you said, not waiting for him to prompt you.

“Bingo!” You grabbed the popsicle and bit into it, finishing the delicate sweet in a matter of seconds.

“Is that it Sanji?” you called out, hoping there were more. They were really cooling, and, as expected from this chef, took the word delicious to the next level.

“One last treat!” he called out.

You could feel him walking closer, eagerly expecting the next popsicle.

Suddenly, something warm was pressed to your lips, and it took you a few seconds to realize that Sanji was kissing you. In your shock at being kissed, your first reaction was to have your eyes fly open and to punch the unsuspecting man in the gut. He smashed into a wall, groaning. When you realized what you had done, you rushed over to him, wishing you could take back what you had done.

“Sanji, I’m so sorry!” you gasped out.

Little hearts were floating around his head as he muttered, “So. . . worth. . .it. . . “ When he opened his eyes, he shrugged his shoulders. “I’m guessing that’s a rejection?”

You kneeled by his sitting figure, unmoving for a second, before closing your eyes and pushing your lips onto his. You didn’t even bother thinking about it, although you were sure your face had turned an obvious shade of red, judging how warm it was.

Sanji’s hand went to the back of your head, pushing slightly to deepen the kiss. You didn’t dare open your eyes, not wanting to ruin the magic of this. You finally pulled away, still not opening your eyes. “Come on [y/n]-chan. I like looking at your [e/c] eyes.” You shook your head. “Please?” 

You sighed, then opened them slowly. Sanji was grinning at you. “You’re lucky I was feeling nice,” you huffed out, hoping to maintain some level of dignity through your blushing self. 

He poked your cheek. “Your face is red, [y/n]-chan!”

“N-no crap, it’s boiling in here,” you stuttered out 

“So my kiss didn’t make you blush? Let me try again,” he responded, pulling you close yet again.