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warnings for strong language. that's all.
(Y/N) wasn’t freaking out. Well, that was what she was trying to convince herself of; mostly because she was sure she had become—by this point—familiar with all of the sales people around the mall.
The reason? She was unable to find a gift for her favorite blonde cook and she was not only running out of options but also out of time. Defeated, (Y/N) searches for her phone, going through her contacts list and when she finally locates the number of the orange-haired friend that could help her in this predicament; she brings the device to her ear, listening to the sound of utter hell as she waits for Nami to pick up.
“Hello?” (Y/N) had never felt more relieved to hear Nami’s voice in her life.
“Nami! I need—”
“—Gotcha! Leave your message after the—” …I’m going to kill her.
“Fuck you, Nami!” (Y/N) throws her phone down somewhere in the inside of her car before banging her fists against the steering wheel of her car as she sits in the leather seat, throwing her head back in frustration; she closes her eyes as she is consumed by the impending doom of not having anything to gift Sanji for his birthday.
I mean, what do you gift someone like Sanji—One would think anything related to cooking and she was on the right track until her friends appeared and decided to casually rain on her parade.
Nami had bought him an expensive set of kitchen knifes he had mentioned, he liked once, while watching some cheap television program; Robin bought him a really big—full of extravagant recipes—kitchen book, a real gem for the cook since it had recipes from all over the world. She had found it in one of her trips with her husband Franky, who by the way, being a carpenter was remodeling his entire kitchen to make it more professional to the cook’s taste.
These guys, I swear…
Luffy had bought, well, more like gotten him a dog named Chopper, he was a little puppy that Luffy had rescued while on a school trip and he was just the most beautiful thing ever; however she had learnt from Marco, Luffy’s older brother, that it was likely that the puppy would have to stay with them since Luffy was unable to detach himself from the pup— At least, Luffy was the only one who had tried to give him something completely unrelated to cooking.
Bless your soul, Luffy.
Usopp being Usopp, had gotten him some weird seasonings and stuff he had bought in a local hidden market, his girlfriend Kaya had discovered while on a trip in Logue City; apparently they were pretty weird to find and were extremely good for a chef, as long as they were in the right hands.
(Y/N) did not know any more capable hands as those from Sanji when it came to cooking.
And then there was Zoro, who as expected from Roronoa Zoro was giving him sake. And that’s to say he appreciates the cook, it’s his sake after all— and the group knows that Zoro doesn’t shares his sake—at all; well… the good one, anyways.
(Y/N) knew she could always call Sanji’s dad and ask him for advice but she didn’t wanted to do that; in her mind, calling old man Zeff just a few hours away from his son’s birthday party and ask him what would be a good gift for him, might be just a little too wrong.
Fuck.
(Y/N) sighs deeply, disappointed and resigns herself as she goes to start her car. She had to be at Sanji’s place in about four or five hours, she could figure something out from now till then.
Yeah, she could do that...
…
But she didn’t; and therefore she now stood outside Sanji’s place, empty handed and about to have a fit because she was sure she was going to be the only one without a present for the cook and just with what face could she do that?
God, Sanji was going to hate her.
She had considered a shitty gift like a tie or something like cologne, but that was too impersonal considering this was Sanji—her best friend of six years, who also happened to be the love of her life—Not that he knew that.
But it’s not as if she didn’t put thought into this night. This was Sanji, for crying out loud! She had put every thought into it for weeks, because it was Sanji but yet, she stood outside his place with nothing in her hands.
He loves cooking.
He loves the sea.
He loves his friends and family.
He loves—
“(Y/N)! I was starting to think you weren’t coming…” she’s pulled out of her thoughts by the object of her affection, smiling down at her with a cigarette in hand; in what she could only assume, was his smoking break—Zeff hated when he did that in a closed up space, so he was on the hallways or balcony a lot when he had visits, like today.
“Happy birthday, Sanji.” She says towards the blonde with a smile and before she can stop her actions, she’s throwing herself at him in a hug, her arms hugging him around his mid-section and head resting against his muscular chest. Sanji welcomes her actions gladly and uses his left arm to return the hug above her shoulders and pull her even closer to his body.
The smell of cigarette’s, alcohol and cologne reaching her nostrils in the most pleasant way, she has grown accustomed to the smell of the blonde, after all, is one of her favorites, and she was sure she couldn’t go for more than a say without it.
She looks up to his face and watches as he stares at the ceiling before looking down at her with a sweet smile on his face.
“Thank you, (Y/N).” He whispers loud enough for her to hear as he, expertly, lights the cigarette between his lips with a golden lighter shaped like a woman—never seen that before—and as if he was reading her thoughts he answers her unspoken question.
“The old geezer gave it to me earlier,” he says with a smile, “said that it’s two of the things that will eventually kill me. So it was perfect for me.” His laugh is infectious and gives (Y/N) a warm feeling inside her chest.
“Is the birthday boy enjoying himself so far?” she asks.
He shrugs, “so far so good,” he exhales the fumes away from them both, towards the ceiling. “Gotta say though,” he chuckles, “it got even better suddenly.” She sees how he closes his eyes as if he is in deep thought.
“How so?” she asks, she assumes it must be due to the well deserved smoke break, she knows Sanji can’t go on too much without one of those.
“Well—”
“Sanji-kun! We are ready to—Oh, (Y/N)! It was about time!” Nami cheers as she opens the door to the hallway, interrupting Sanji’s words and making (Y/N) jump at the sudden intrusion.
“You guys…” she trails off, looking with a knowing smile between the two of them. “…Need a moment?” she asks and suddenly (Y/N) realizes she’s still flush against Sanji’s body, his warmth embracing her.
“No, no…” (Y/N) says as she breaks the embrace she had with him, she thinks she sees him frown at her actions but could be wrong and decides to shake the feeling off.
“Nami!” (Y/N) exclaims, catching the attention of her friend, not because she’s happy to see her, which she is, but… “I have a bone to pick with you and that shitty voicemail on your phone!”
…
“So, you didn’t bring him anything!?” Vivi asks, shock evident on her words towards (Y/N), as she and the rest sit around her, scolding her.
“Well, it’s not like I didn’t try!” she scoffs, “You guys suck!” she defends herself. “What am I supposed to give him when you guys are breaking expectations with fancy kitchen knifes, kitchen remodelations, and now I’m hearing for the first time that Luffy’s brothers are giving him a vacation through Europe on a fricking boat!” (Y/N) has officially been defeated by her own friends.
“It was Thatch’s idea!” Luffy exclaims loudly, breaking apart from the meat snack on his plate with a big smile on his lips.
Of course it was Thatch’s idea… He’s loaded in money and has a heart of gold.
“Don’t beat yourself over something like that,” Robin says, “you should just give him something you’ll know he will adore.”
“A little too late, Robin.” You say, sarcasm dripping from your words. It’s not like she doesn’t knows that she should give him something he’ll adore, the question was; What exactly!?
“Not really,” says Nami as she picks a gift bow and places it on (Y/N)’s head. “There, you are ready to go.”
“You suggest…” (Y/N) trails off, unsure of her friend’s plans.
“Gift yourself to him!” her voice as cheerful as ever, as if she’s talking of the weather.
Oh my god, Nami! No!
“Go, go, go now!” Nami ushers me towards the balcony where Sanji’s currently having, yet, another one of his breaks. But (Y/N) doesn’t wants to follow her friend suggestions so she tries to go back. Try— is the correct word, since the whole group won’t allow her to do just that.
“Luffy!” Nami calls with a malefic aura over her, “Help us! (Y/N)’s trying to steal all the meat and the only way to stop her is to send her on the balcony with Sanji-kun!”
Oh, oh.
…
Sanji exhales the fumes from the cigarette stick loudly into the cold air of the city, his mind plagued by several thoughts—an asshole at work trying to be a little smartass, his graduation from cooking school coming up soon, and now—her. Well, not exactly, now since she has been on his mind for the past two weeks since that party at Kid’s house.
Since the moment everything went from Sanji having a great time with his friends to beating the living shit out of Kid’s face for groping (Y/N) a little too friendly for his liking. He had told himself he had done it because he was defending his friend—a lady, but now, he wasn’t so sure about it.
Sure, his chivalrously would’ve led him to defend any other girl the same way, but there was something on Sanji’s mind that wouldn’t let him settle with that answer and it was the fact that he had been stalking the pair for a while and every time his eyes drifted towards them, his anger increased a little more towards the redhead.
At how he starred too much at her, how he smiled at her, how she laughed at his jokes—it made Sanji mad. It made him…jealous, because (Y/N) shouldn’t be smiling at Kid’s jokes, or smiling at Kid at all, no. She should be smiling at him and only him.
God! What a possessive jerk has he become!
And because of that, he had been distracted lately, acting nothing like himself; ignoring the beautiful blonde named Khalifa that came around every Wednesday getting Sanji to beg for a change to his shift so he could attend her table, personally; neglecting his duties at college with graduation so soon and neglecting his kitchen work at Baratie, which had caused the old geezer to put him on the bench for the rest of the week.
Soon, it was clear to all—but one—of his friends that something was troubling him and when they had confronted him about it, it had all became clear to him.
He had fallen in love with his best friend.
And now, here he was, smoking like a chimney—more than usual—because his stress had gotten him to this point. He had wanted to speak to (Y/N) on the hallway, since they were alone for the first time in…well, two weeks but Nami-san interrupted them before he could even get a word out.
He had this burning sensation inside his chest from the feeling of having gotten her in between his arms, of being able to inhale the scent of her hair and still being unable to say—
“Guys, stop it!”
Is that…?
“No, Luffy! Stop it! I’m not trying to steal the meat! I swear… Nami, tell him it’s not— Ace, a little help here?”
Okay, that is her. What in the hell—
“Ace? Ace, what are you—ACE! Put me down, you jerk!”
Suddenly the sliding glass doors open to reveal the freckled faced boy carrying what he can only assume it’s (Y/N) over his shoulder, with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“I SWEAR TO GOD, ACE. I’M GOING TO CUT YOU OPEN LIKE A—Ouch!” she yelps when Ace drops her onto the leather chair that Sanji insists on having outside—something she’s now grateful, since she knows Ace and she knows he’s capable of dropping her in the floor.
Sanji looks startled at first by the whole scene, specially when Ace gives him a little bow and mouths ‘Good luck’ before disappearing into the inside of his place, closing the doors behind him.
Those bastards…
(Y/N)’s fast, probably one of the fastest girls Sanji knows; but she fails to meet Ace’s speed when she tries to go back inside, the freckled boy mocking (Y/N)’s attempts. Sanji finds hilarious the little pout she gives and how she’s grumbling at their friends inside the apartment, but still makes a mental note to kick Ace’s ass for dropping (Y/N) so harshly.
“Are you okay there, (Y/N)?”
She suddenly perks up at the sound of his voice and while she doesn’t answers right away, she does looks over at him, at how he’s leaning his head into one of his hands as it supports himself on the railing of the balcony. Now, she finally gets to really look at him without anybody else around. She gets to appreciate the leather jacket sheltering him from the cold with a white t-shirt underneath it and a pair of black jeans against his legs, his feet clad in a pair of black shoes as well.
He looks… delicious.
And there goes (Y/N)’s cannibalistic side. Way to go.
And while she’s gawking at him; Sanji’s completely unaware of that since his own eyes are gawking at her, at how that black lace dress hugs her body in all the right places and makes her skin color shine brighter underneath the moonlight.
Sanji’s eyes travel from the soft and wavy curls of her hair, to her naked back, her round ass and all the way down to her long legs, toned and gorgeous, highlighted by a pair of high heels that he can’t help himself but close his eyes at the image of her wearing only those.
One of the cook’s best kept secrets? He had a thing for heels and it became his doom when he realized (Y/N) wore them… a lot. She enjoyed wearing them, and is not like he wanted to stop her from doing so; after all, she did look gorgeous with them. Sanji knew how to appreciate a good pair of legs in high heels.
But it often led to lewd thoughts, which led to awkward moments for him, like now… fuck.
Ivankov, Ivankov, Ivankov… Sanji’s thoughts drift to his old boss and the business he used to run based strictly for okama’s. A job Sanji had been forced to accept since he had wanted to pay for cooking school himself. None of his friends knew about it, not even the old geezer and he would keep it that way until his dying breath.
“I’m… great, just our friends being dickheads.” He hears her chuckle as his eyes deny themselves to collide with her own, which only makes her raise an eyebrow towards the stranger than usual behavior of the blonde.
After six years of friendship, she thinks she has the blonde figured out, knowing everything there is to know about him, what makes him tick, happy, awkward and… how he acts when he goes all… well, Sanji mode.
“What were you thinking?” And is in the way she says those words that Sanji knows she’s teasing him. Mainly because he has never acted like that towards her, at first she had felt offended, even a little hurt but she had guessed it was just because Sanji didn’t see her that way.
And so she had to see him go all ‘crazy-love-tornado’ with other girls, but never with her… What was wrong with her?
But Sanji’s motivations for not doing that were different; and it had been only two weeks ago, he had realized that. He realized he had never wanted to treat (Y/N) like he did other girls, because (Y/N) wasn’t just any girl for Sanji.
The blonde stays quiet after her question and she, for a moment, thinks she might have offended him in some way, or that he was just really enjoying his time alone on the balcony.
“Uhm,” she suddenly stutters, “I—I better go, right? I’m—I’m sorry.” But she barely gets two steps towards the direction of the door when Sanji’s hand catches her wrist, strong enough to stop her but not strong enough to hurt her.
She looks back at him, only to catch him starring deep in thought towards the floor, as if he was struggling with something on his mind.
“San—”
“You look beautiful, (Y/N),” he says, his voice catching her off guard at how low and husky it sounds, probably from the smoking. Sanji brings her close to his chest by her wrist and she stumbles to his demand, crashing against toned muscles. “Loving the gift bow, by the way,” he chuckles and she suddenly remembers she had that attached to her head.
“I—Nami’s—” she stumbles on her words, “Nami was just being stupid.” She rolls her eyes, trying to dismiss the subject but Sanji wouldn’t allow that.
“Oh?” he perks up at her answer, “Were you supposed to be my present?” he asks straight forwardly, his voice just above a whisper against the shell of her ear, which sends a wave of chills down her back. The fact it’s chilly out here and she’s wearing a backless dress doesn't help the matter either.
“Gotta say,” he continues, with a smirk she can feel burning her skin; “I’m loving how this dress looks on you…” he keeps whispering, his breath making her knees weak; but it only gets worst when his fingers play with the skin of her back, touching from the base of her neck, all the way down to the curve of her ass. Sanji chuckles at her reaction, “Cold, (Y/N)-chan?”
“N-Nope,” she says, knowing damn well what he’s doing, “I’m just…chilly...”
He steps away from her for a moment before he shrugs the leather jacket off his shoulders and places it around her frame so she can warm up; as the smell of cigarettes, cologne and… dish washing soap reaches her nostrils. Sanji wraps his arms around her frame from behind, caging her between his body and the railing of the balcony.
“So,” Sanji starts, “when can I unwrap my present?” his voice is on her ear once again, but it travels really fast onto the pit of her stomach, making it do flips inside and forcing her to close her eyes to calm her racing thoughts.
“S-Sanji—”
“You asked me earlier what had made my night suddenly so great—in the hallway, remember?” he asks her, interrupting her words.
She nods, remembering the moment but unable to say anything to the man behind her.
“You were in my arms,” he answers, “you were hugging me so tight and I couldn’t help but feel…” he smiles against her shoulder. “…Happy.”
“S-Sanji, I—”
“I like you, (Y/N).” he says, “no, scratch that. I love you, (Y/N).”
She lets out a deep breath, one she didn’t even knew she was holding in and watches as her breathing turns cold air from the temperature. (Y/N) finds the strength enough to turn her head and meet the cook’s eyes, those blue-grey eyes that would turn sometimes dark under the right conditions, just looking at her—and nobody else.
“Say something, (Y/N),” he pleads with a nervous smile on his face, “you’re driving me insane here.”
“I love you too, Sanji…” she says, for what he feels it’s after a millennium, his relief evident on his breathing, “…Always had.”
He stays quiet as he pushes her hair out of his way, as well as the—now annoying—jacket, so he can freely attach his lips onto the exposed skin of her neck, gaining a gasp from the woman in his arms; Sanji’s lips barely touch her skin in small kisses, until he reaches her shoulder and breathes deep into her skin.
Lavender, perfume and… rain.
“So, can I have my birthday gift?” he asks, turning her around in his arms so they now are face to face, foreheads leaning into one and another. (Y/N)’s arms sneak upwards, resting against his shoulders while her hands rest against the back of his neck, fingers playing with the soft locks of blonde hair.
She smiles, “I think you—”
(Y/N)’s words get cut off when Sanji’s lips traps her own into a slow kiss, lips moving against each other, tongue testing the waters until she grants him permission to move forward, deepening the kiss between them; her body’s completely flush against Sanji’s as his arm sneaks down to the curve of her ass, squeezing tight her cheeks, making her gasp against his lips. He smirks at the opportunity and takes complete control of the kiss.
Her hands leave his hair to come down and grip onto the material of his t-shirt, as if to bring him closer to her, muscles underneath her fingers, teasing her, as they part for air.
“As much as I’d like to continue, Sanji,” she says with a smile, eyes drifting towards the glass sliding doors; “We have an audience.” And indeed they had, their friends, even the old man, were exchanging some knowing looks to the new couple, laughs and even money.
Goddammit, these assholes were betting on them!?
“Oi, animals!” Sanji calls out, walking towards the door but never letting go of (Y/N)’s hand “what the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
She tugs him back when she sees everyone scrambling out, and makes him stop in his tracks. “Happy birthday, Sanji.”
His gaze softens at her words and he leans down to capture her lips once more, in a quick peck “Now,” he says, opening the doors, “off to kick our friends asses.” He smiles, making her giggle at him.
He loves cooking.
He loves the sea.
He loves his friends and family.
He loves you, and only you.