#sanji singing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

rollinouttahere-writes · 1 year

Note

Pfft why can imagine the reader singing peaches to her crush 🤣😂🤣

Lucky: 🎶🎹🍑

The crush:🧍😳🧍‍♀️

Stawhats: 😳😱😭😡🤭

I don't know if you meant for this to be a request, but I was inspired. Absolutely none of this is canon to Lucky Break, this is straight up crack.

Can't Take You Anywhere

Yandere Straw Hats x reader x Smoker

1.9k words

warning for alcohol consumption

"This is all your fault, you stupid love cook," Zoro seethed from across the table.

"My fault? How is this my fault? Do you think I put her up to this???"”

“You did!” Nami butted into the argument, “Why the hell did you tell her to ‘follow her heart’ when she admitted to crushing on someone?!”

“I didn’t think she was referring to him!” Sanji gestured helplessly to what was disappointingly, the man of your affection.

“She looks like you with all the dopey faces she makes every time she sees him! Who else did you think it was?!” Zoro slammed his fist onto the table, not having any of Sanji’s attempts to shrug off the blame here.

Sanji’s face dropped and he sniffled loudly, “... Me.” With that he dissolved into a puddle of tears on the table they were all seated around. Well, all but one of them.

You were seated at the piano in the center of the restaurant, which you had commandeered by shoving the actual pianist off the bench and threatening to kick his ass if he interrupted you. To say that you had possibly had a little too much to drink tonight would be an understatement, but none of them thought to cut you off, and now they’re all going to suffer for it.

Not one of them could have guessed Captain Smoker was going to make an appearance, and absolutely not a soul in this restaurant would have been able to guess what you were going to do about it.

“I think we all share some blame here for not stopping her the second she stood up,” Robin’s face was in her hands, too ashamed to even look at what was happening. “Especially after she said ‘this one’s for my one and only true love: Captain Smoker’.”

Now it was too late. Now you were drunkenly belting out a love ballad to a fucking marine in the middle of a crowded restaurant and none of them were willing to go up there and stop you. Everyone was too embarrassed to go and associate with you when you were acting like this. Except Luffy who was happily taking advantage of your now unattended plate.

Their discomfort was nothing though, not in comparison to the absolute mortification on Smoker’s face right now. All he could do was stand there in abject horror as one of the pirates he’s been chasing for months loudly, and publicly, professed her love for him. His cigars had fallen to the floor after he had bitten clean through them. You were slamming away on the piano, not particularly well, and chanting Smoker’s name like it was a damn prayer.

“If it weren’t for the fact that all of you are still seated, I would think this is the most genius idea for a distraction ever conceived. I’ve never seen Smoker stopped dead in his tracks like this,” Tashigi was standing next to their table, a mix of second-hand embarrassment and pity on her face.

Zoro glanced at her, not even caring that she snuck up on them, “You’re not gonna help your captain?”

Tashigi looked on at the drunken confession wearily. She doesn’t get paid enough to run interference on whatever the hell was going on over there. She cleared her throat and shook her head, “No, Smoker prefers to fight his own battles.” It was a lame excuse, but no one called her on it. None of them had any room to talk right now.

Just as she said that, they could hear you take a deep breath and scream out more of this weird song you came up with, “Captain Smoker, at the end of the line, I’ll make you mine!”

Finally, mercifully, Smoker snapped out of his stupor and launched himself forward. One arm wrapped around your middle and the other hand clamped over your mouth, thankfully silencing you. As he pulled you off the bench, his head darted around, desperately searching for the rest of your crew.

Tashigi waved him down, appearing to take mercy on her horrified captain. He marched his way over there, doing his damnedest to ignore the stares and whispers directed towards him. It didn’t help that you were wiggling around like a fish, not a care in the world for the scene you just created.

Smoker got to the table and unceremoniously dropped you into your empty chair. The second his hands were off you, yours were on him. You spun around and threw your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his exposed chest. Despite all the alcohol in your system, you were somehow strong enough to resist being immediately pushed off of him.

“Smokey~! Did you like my song? I sang it just for you!” You looked up at him, a love struck smile plastered over your face.

Gags resounded around the table at the cheesy nickname, and Smoker couldn’t help but grimace, “Do not ever call me that again.”

All that got him was some giggles, “Oh my god, you’re so funny! C’mon Smokey, we both know you love it! I mean look at you, your face is all red!” Not only was his face flushed, even his neck and ears were turning red. Smoker cursed over how pale he was.

Nami, who was seated next to you, was trying to pull you off of the marine, ”Lucky I am begging you to stop talking.” And singing. She would forget about your debt to her if you promised to never sing again.

You swatted at her while your other arm still clung onto Smoker, “Nuh-uh, you can’t tell me what to do! You’re just jealous that I found my one true love before you did!” Obviously the only reason anyone would disapprove of your current behavior was because they wanted what you had. What you and Smoker have, you should say.

Smoker took advantage of your loosened grip to rip you off of him, taking several steps back for good measure. The look you gave him was devastating, tears immediately welling in your eyes, “Smoker? Where are you going? Did you not like it?” Oh god, you were even starting to choke up.

As much as no one wanted you to be with this marine, they didn’t want you sobbing in the middle of the restaurant because of him either. Smoker was now getting dirty looks from not only the Straw Hats, but also the patrons in this establishment who no doubt thought they were witnessing some sort of lovers quarrel. He ran a gloved hand down his face, hating every second of this.

“Lucky, you’re very drunk. You need to eat something and sober up,” he tried to gently turn you around, but this didn’t work as you managed to weasel your way past his arms and clung onto his waist like it was a lifeline.

Sniffling pitifully, you asked again if he didn’t like your song, “Did you hate it? D-Do you hate me?”

Smoker looked at Tashigi for help, but she was refusing to make eye contact. He risked looking back at you, only to see actual tears starting to drip down your face. His heart panged at the sight and he internally cursed himself for what he was about to say.

“It was… fine. I don’t hate you, please stop crying,” he awkwardly patted your shoulder, hoping that would be enough to calm you down.

“Really?” You immediately brightened up, much to his relief, “I knew it, I knew you would! I have more songs I can sing!” Relief promptly turned to horror as you attempted to get up and return to the piano.

Smoker forced you back down, swiped a bread basket off a tray from a passing by waiter, and shoved the whole thing into your hands. “No, Lucky, no more singing. Please just eat something,” he was practically begging at this point, wanting literally anything to help and absorb the alcohol.

You openly pouted, but did start ripping off and eating pieces of bread. There was a collective sigh of relief from the entire table.

“Tashigi, we’re leaving.”

“But Captain, the Straw Hats are right here! We should apprehend them,” she protested.

“I am not dealing with the rumors that would be started by dragging this woman out of here after what she did,” his reputation would never recover. That, and he didn’t particularly want to deal with listening to your drunk ass all night.

Just as he was walking away, grateful that you hadn’t piped up again, he caught a look of panic flash across everyone else’s faces. He saw at least three of them spring out of their seats to grab you, and he took that as his cue to leave faster with Tashigi in tow. He put two cigars in his mouth, and debated on a third after the night he’s had.

“Lucky no! Don’t you dare!” Nami was holding onto your arms for dear life, having just barely stopped you from slapping Smoker’s ass as he walked away.

Zoro hefted you up into his arms and deposited you into Luffy’s lap, “Hold onto her and do not let go for the rest of the night.”

Luffy immediately coiled his arms around you, not wanting you to get up and do anything else. He propped his head onto your shoulder and huffed at the whole ordeal, “Lucky, why do you have to like a marine of all people?”

“The heart wants what the heart wants, you wouldn’t get it,” you sigh dreamily, eying up Smoker’s retreating form until he was out of sight.

“Can’t we just leave now? Please,” Usopp pleaded, slumped down in his seat to the point that only his nose remained visible.

“No, we need to give Smoker a head start, we can’t risk Lucky spotting him again,” Nami immediately shot that idea down. It’s not like she didn’t want to leave, she absolutely did, but she couldn’t risk everything that just happened repeating.

—

This had to have been the worst hangover of your life, you don’t think it could get worse than this. The events of last night were blurry, but not enough to save you from the crushing humiliation of everything you did. Currently you were seated at the table on the main deck upon Chopper’s insistence that the fresh air would make you feel better.

Due to your head being buried in your arms, you don’t see who’s approaching. Suddenly, something is dropped on your head, making you groan from the contact. You lift your head enough to glare at the perpetrator, “Nami why?”

The smug look on her face was enough to make anyone’s blood run cold, “Oh no reason, I just thought you might want to look at the newspaper this morning.”

Oh god. The look on her face promised that you would NOT want to see it, but it was too late to ignore it now. You sat up faster than you thought you could in your given state and snatched up the paper, only to almost scream when you saw the cover story.

“Scandalous! Pirate and Marine have lovers quarrel in restaurant!”

Immediately beneath the title was a picture of you clinging onto Smoker with tears and snot running down your face. Truly they couldn’t have gotten a worse picture of you if they tried. Not that Smoker looked much better with the genuine panic flitting across his face.

“He’s going to kill me,” you say barely above a whisper.

365 notes · View notes

rainbowmoonstonestories · 1 year

Text

Why The Caged Bird Sings | Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: One Piece (Liveaction) Rating: Explicit Relationships Vinsmoke Sanji x F!Reader Characters: Vinsmoke Sanji, Patty, Red Leg Zeff, Original Characters, Strawhat crew. Warnings: 18+ content (minors DNI), explicit sexual content, minor POV switching. Summary: One night, you were brought to the luxurious Baratie Restaurant Ship, renowned for its exceptional cuisine that your family had been intrigued to sample. A particular blond and comely waiter captured your attention with his charming smile and gentle eyes, but while your beauty and sophistication intrigued him, Sanji also observed the profound nervousness that caused your jaw and body muscles to tense whenever your fiancé made contact with your hand or your parents delivered a humiliating criticism towards you. One dinner at the Baratie soon turned into a recurring event, and then more. As your friendship with Sanji slowly evolved into something that burned from within, you strove to make your longstanding dream come true; freeing yourself from a constricting existence. -------------------------- As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?" He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?" You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Divider by firefly-graphics

Warning: Minor emotional abuse included.

One might assume that growing up surrounded by wealth and luxury makes someone the luckiest person alive. Having seen the struggles and sacrifices of the poor in society, you could confirm that this assumption was not entirely false. Since Gold Roger's announcement about the One Piece, a legendary treasure that no one had found for 22 years, piracy had become rampant. You lived in an era where gold and status held more importance than anything else, even family itself.

You witnessed an increase in deceptions and subterfuge, whether it was on the open sea or within your own household. Your father was a successful entrepreneur with a modest number of valuable connections, both in the private sector and among Marine colonels and various associates. It was extremely important for you to follow his protocol and ensure that everything was accomplished in a way that upheld your family's reputation.

Unfortunately, this also meant agreeing to a forced engagement with one of the admirals' son, regardless of what your heart desired.

It could have been so simple, really. A firm and confident "no" was to be expected from you, as you never wanted to marry for benefits, but only for love. And yet, throughout your entire life, you struggled to find the courage to go against what everyone wanted you to do. As a natural people-pleaser who didn't like disappointing those around, you grew up surrounded by cruelty, opportunism, and a severe lack of affection.

You were trained to be nice and condescending, having to wear a fake smile at all times, and when necessary, even put your cleavage on display with the nicest dresses in your wardrobe. Or, to describe it more accurately, your mother's wardrobe.

Your parents barred you from selecting the garments that you would be most comfortable in. You harbored a preference for a more casual look, which consisted of shirts and fitting pants, leather jackets, and boots. Nevertheless, in accordance with their view, such clothes did not suit a lady of your importance. Consequently, you had to store your own funds separately, and keep the non-compliant outfits inside a concealed wooden box.

Occasionally, you were able to experience a sliver of freedom with your best and only friends from your hometown, conjuring up plausible alibi while avoiding arousing any suspicions. They were the only ones who addressed you with kind and considerate words, openly expressing their views that opposed your constant acceptance without putting up a fight.

You knew they were perfectly correct in their statements, yet you were unable to ascertain the missing drive and find that spark within you; the strength you had tried to put into good use whenever your parents confined you to your room for several days, with the bare minimum food intake as a method of teaching you a lesson concerning the specific expectations that they wanted from the good and well-mannered girl whom they attempted to nurture.

You had no voice left in your throat to scream, alongside possessing a minimal amount of stamina to retaliate and advocate for yourself amid the continued degradation that you had to face on a consistent basis.

You thoroughly despised your cowardice. You dreamed of an existence where you could stand up for yourself, fighting for what you wanted with full determination and fervor. And yet, that day still felt so far away, as you were constrained to attend one business dinner after another, whether with your parents present or by yourself.

They wanted a doll, so you acted like one.

You didn't know yet, but everything was about to change significantly and unexpectedly on that fateful night.

There was a particular location known as the Baratie Restaurant Ship that served the most high-class and succulent dishes in the entirety of the East Blue. Your parents expressed considerable enthusiasm towards dining at this establishment and subsequently extended an invitation to your father's closest admiral associate, along with your presumed fiancé. As a result, you were summoned to attend the gathering without any possibility of evasion.

Your friends advised you to feign illness and make a covert escape from your home as soon as the ship set sail, but you were exceedingly familiar with your parents' modus operandi better than anyone else. You discerned that they would have surely transported you with them even if you were physically disabled, so you chose your mother's favorite dress for the occasion, applied your makeup, and selected the kind of uncomfortable shoes that you disliked wearing while standing due to their tight fit and high heels.

As soon as you arrived at the docks, the aroma of cooked meat, grilled fish, and baked potatoes filled the air. Upon entering the restaurant, a soothing melody immediately greeted your ears. While your parents spoke with the fishman at the entrance about their reservation, you took in the upscale setting. Admiring the ambiance, you appreciated the cozy atmosphere with dim lights lending a romantic vibe that made it the perfect spot for a genuine couple.

Christopher, your supposed fiancé, touched your back in an unpleasant manner as he analyzed every patron in the establishment with a visible expression of disdain.

"I'm sure some of these people are filthy pirates," he sneered. "I hope the food is as good as they say.”

With a forced smile on your face, you nonchalantly stepped away from his hold. "You can't exactly choose the customers, Chris," you said pointedly, hoping to discourage any further negativity.

The man seemed unfazed by your rejection and proceeded to walk down the stairs. Your parents followed suit, escorted to your designated location for the evening with the admiral following in tow. His usual grin was plastered on his face, and he strode past you as you stood frozen, not saying a word.

You took deep breaths in an attempt to calm your frazzled emotions, but your heart continued to hammer in your chest with a loud, pounding rhythm.

"Come on, Y/N, you can do it. Just a couple of hours, you'll survive this," you whispered to yourself, trying to muster up some courage and push through the discomfort.

You swallowed the lump that had surfaced in your throat and then joined the group near the center area of the restaurant, waiting for the others to take their seat on the long couch made of high quality leather.

Despite Sanji's best efforts, Zeff once again belittled and ignored one of his delicious meals, causing him to be relegated to the lowly role of a waiter. As he hurriedly wiped down a table, clearing it of the empty plates and keeping the growing pile on his left hand, Sanji's gaze casually shifted to the group of people that had just arrived at the Baratie. He abruptly turned around for a moment when he caught a glimpse of you, utterly entranced by your beauty and the elegant movement of tucking a hair strand behind your ear as you took in your surroundings.

Sanji found himself staring at you longer than he intended to, his lips curving into a wide smile the moment you settled onto the couch and subtly adjusted the fabric of your dress to conceal your thighs. Amidst the vibrant conversation that occupied the others, you remained quiet and reserved, lightly tugging at the corner of your lips as you tried to blend in.

Even though they all engaged in lively chatter, you showed no special interest in the topic of discussion, drifting away and briefly meeting Sanji's eyes in a quick glance of contact.

To Sanji's displeasure, the man sitting near you attempted to capture your attention by holding the menu in front of you. You redirected your focus to carefully inspect the list, and Sanji was left standing there, one hand tucked in his pocket, watching as your lips pressed together in concentration.

Amongst the multitude of female patrons present that night, you stood out as the most mesmerizing for reasons that he struggled to put into words. Sanji hastily gathered the remaining clutter, taking it to the kitchen before fixing his jacket and tidying up his hair to make it look as neat as possible.

Clearing his throat, he stepped back into the dining hall, walking towards your table with long and confident strides.

Christopher wasted no time in adopting an uncouth position that led to his leg frequently brushing against yours on the couch. Luckily, you were seated at the edge of the furniture piece, providing you with a convenient escape route if needed.

Your attention was successfully diverted from your tense predicament by the sound of footsteps approaching your table. When you raised your head once more, you saw the blond waiter that you had noticed earlier halting in front of your group with an elegant stance.

As you viewed him from a distance, you couldn't tell whether his radiant grin was intended for you or someone else. But as the two of you now came face-to-face, you couldn't help but notice how handsome he looked from up close.

You felt yourself growing flushed under his intense gaze, his beaming smile making you feel as if he were peering right into your soul in a way you were not particularly used to.

“Welcome to our Restaurant, my name is Sanji. What can I bring for you?”

The sharp switch between his pleasant demeanor and mild frustration whenever the men made their statements about what to drink or eat was quite amusing, but it was difficult to ignore the fluttering sensation in your stomach when he turned his attention towards you again, with the same radiant smile from before. “Madam?”

It took you a moment to respond, as you were unable to process the suitable thing to say. "I'll have whatever is best on the menu. Surprise me.”

His grin increased in size to the point where you were able to witness his exquisite set of gleaming white teeth. "And what would you like to drink?”

Just as you were about to respond to his question, your mother intervened and answered on your behalf. "She enjoys fine wine, just like her fiancé. Could we have an esteemed bottle?”

If your eyes were able to hurlin daggers, the intensity of your glare would have been enough to pierce her head on the spot. For the first time, you felt the powerful urge to rebel against her declaration, as you had always known that retaliation is most appropriate when served ice-cold.

You turned back to the man named Sanji, offering a big smile in return. "Actually, I would prefer water. With ice, thank you.”

“Cubed or crushed?”

“Cubed is fine.”

It appeared that everyone was simultaneously startled and speechless because of the bold pronouncement you had made, which provided you with intense satisfaction as you continued to keep up your firm countenance.

Sanji took a small pause, observing the tense atmosphere that had materialized in the air and moving his gaze back and forth. Upon perceiving how determined you were about your order, he nodded and walked away from your table area. “Coming right up.”

You became aware that Sanji had neglected to note everyone else's orders. However, you presumed that due to the restaurant's renowned reputation, he was competent enough to recall them without any major problems.

In the meantime, your mother nervously clenched her hands, seemingly ready to voice her complaint to you.

And so, she did.

"What was that?" she asked you.

"Nothing," you said, trying to appear oblivious. "What’s the matter, mom? I can't even decide what I want to drink?”

"I thought you preferred wine, just like Christopher.”

You raised your shoulders in a dismissive gesture and remarked, "See, that's how little you know about your own daughter.”

Your father, who had maintained a disturbing calmness up until this point, sternly uttered your name. Given the vibrations in his voice and his expression that exuded a certain level of seriousness, it was apparent that he was about to give one of his reproaching speeches.

“You are crossing a line here,” he warned you in a forceful tone. "I won't accept any form of disrespect tonight.”

Maybe you didn't want to seem weak and easily influenced in front of that attractive waiter, but the threshold of tolerance was likely about to overflow.

"Disrespectful? How is ordering water instead of wine considered disrespectful?”

In the past few years, your father had managed to keep you obedient through his strict upbringing, making you timid and condescending out of fear of the consequences. Memories of his controlling treatment during your childhood were still fresh in your mind, and even if his presence continued to make you feel uncomfortable and restricted, on this particular evening you had a distinct feeling.

And he didn’t like your newfound attitude of independence.

"You will not speak to me like that, especially not in front of our guests.”

Admiral Joseph Wheeler crossed his arms in front of his chest and displayed a facial expression that indicated amusement and nonchalance. “Oh no, don’t mind us.”

You rolled your eyes and reacted with evident disdain."I can’t believe we’re arguing over a drink. I said I wanted water, and I don’t see why you have to treat it like front-page news scandal.”

As the conversation continued, your father's anger seemed to intensify, and you couldn't help but enjoy watching the scene unfold.

"Well, I thought you preferred wine too," Christopher said. "That's what you told me.”

“No, that’s what they told you to please you. I never did.”

“Y/N.”

You felt your stress and tension levels starting to creep on you, and dinner hadn't even begun yet. For a brief moment, you locked eyes with your father and held his firm gaze with your own fierce expression, all while tightly gripping the tabletop with your fists, careful not to rip it.

Admiral Wheeler, on the other hand, suddenly burst into hearty laughter and repeatedly patted your father on the shoulder as a sign of approval. "Would you look at that, your daughter has got some bite!”

You were unable to decipher the true meaning behind his remark. It was unclear whether it was intended as a compliment or as a way to ridicule and diminish you even further.

At the very least, your father appeared noticeably relieved to see Admiral Wheeler entertaining himself. "She must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.”

Your heart began to race as you heard these words. They always made it their personal mission to outsmart and defeat you in various ways. Did your family really see you as that insignificant, only good for their schemes and to be discarded once they no longer needed you? Did they hope to entrust you to Christopher, just to finally be rid of your presence in their home while solidifying their partnership with the admiral?

You suppressed the emotion of sorrow that loomed within your eyes, managing to push the tears back by promptly blinking a few times.

Sanji the waiter returned after a brief moment, carrying a tray that held beverages and empty glasses. You were the first to be served, as he took his time to pour you some water before affably filling your glass with a few glistening ice cubes. The bright smile he displayed proved to be infectious, causing your entire body to relax simply through looking at his face.

Following standard etiquette, your mother was the second to receive her drink. Despite his cordialness and compliments towards the woman, causing her to turn red and giggle in delight, he utilized a noticeably different approach as he filled the remaining beverages. Christopher, who clearly doubted Sanji's intentions, scrutinized him with suspicion, and you could tell that the waiter, in turn, was conducting a similar examination of the man seated next to you.

Sanji's change in behavior was impressively smooth and appealing, as he diverted his attention back to you, flashing another wide grin and producing a beautiful snowy flower from the inner pouch of his jacket.

"For you, madam," he said, presenting a white tulip to you.

You were rendered utterly speechless and astounded, as you stared alternatingly between the flower and his eyes.

"For me...?" you asked in disbelief, hesitantly taking the stem and brushing his fingers in the process.

“Something beautiful for someone beautiful.”

His voice, accent, golden strands of hair falling over his left eye, and the consistent smiles he gave you with his hands placed inside his pockets made your legs feel abnormally weak. Although you were not unfamiliar with men demonstrating flirtatious conduct in your presence, Sanji was able to present himself in a pleasant manner using the right approach.

For a brief moment, you pondered the possibility that Sanji's small, kind act stemmed from recognizing your uneasiness. Your rapid assessment of the dining hall revealed that none of the other female customers had received a flower, either holding it in their hands or having it placed on the tabletop.

And so, mimicking his smile, you accepted his gift. "Thank you so much. That's very nice of you.”

Unfortunately, the calm within your mind was ultimately destroyed when Christopher grasped your left hand. He proceeded to delicately entwine his fingers with yours and moved closer to you on the couch as a form of ostentation.

"Yes, well. Aren't you supposed to wait on other tables and bring our orders, Sanbey?”

The blond maintained his cool, politely diverting his head towards your fiancé. His mouth formed a narrow line, and his eyes transformed to a darker color. “It’s Sanji.”

Chris grunted. "Whatever. Now get lost.”

A wave of bitterness and loathing flooded over you, to the point where you perceived an acidic flavor at the back of your tongue. Gradually, you removed your hand from Christopher’s grasp and subtly slid further onto the cushion in order to escape his hold.

Before Sanji could leave, you leaned over and gently reached for his elbow, not actually making physical contact with it, but just using a feather-like touch. "Please don't mind him. Your service is greatly appreciated," you said.

"Beautiful and sweet. Thank you, madam, I'll be back with your orders.”

Concealing the pang in your heart when you watched him stepping away required a moderate amount of effort. Sanji's flirty mannerism could potentially be a facade, developed specifically for marketing the restaurant and gain potential returning customers. Nevertheless, you discerned that his persona was wholly authentic, as the glistening glimmer in his eyes provided evidence of his genuine attraction towards females.

As you sank down into your thoughts, you held onto the flower with your thumb and forefinger, inhaling its delicate, soothing aroma. For a moment, you even forgot that you were sitting among other people. When you remembered, an uncomfortable silence fell over the table.

"Did you really enjoy that?" Christopher asked, forming fists with a visible sign of distress.

“I do like the flower, if that’s what you mean,” you replied.

"Oh, so now you're going to accept flowers from the first dandy stranger?”

You had to contain the deep sigh that you wanted to let out. "You're being ridiculous now, he works here.”

"Yes, and you didn't even try to reject his advances.”

Normally, you would drop the argument before it could escalate, striving to behave like a scoundrel solely to appease his anger and convince him that there was no reason for concern. However, this time something snapped inside you, and you made a decision that you were not going to back down.

"Well, maybe you should start looking at yourself in the mirror for once.”

An unexpected blow on the table caused everyone present to jump at the sudden gesture, to the point where even the people sitting a few feet away fell silent. Your father was livid, glaring at you in a manner that showed his sheer desire to incinerate you with only the power of his mind.

“Apologize immediatly,” he growled at you.

Once again, you were almost tempted to do as he said, but you forced yourself to keep staring back without reacting.

Admiral Wheeler sneered again. "She's not entirely wrong, son. I keep telling you to style your hair differently. You look like a mop.”

"Hey! Whose side are you on?!”

Your father reacted with great indignation, displaying a flushed face due to the embarrassment he had just experienced. Your mother, who had remained quiet until that point, finally sat up straight on the couch and spoke. "No Joseph, my husband is right. I can see the wit and charm of that waiter, but she shouldn't flirt around with other men when her fiancé is right next to her. I would expect such behavior from a low-class prostitute.”

If your blood could flow any faster, it's possible that you would spontaneously combust.

"First, you complain about my drinking choices, and now I'm criticized for accepting a souvenir?”

She clicked her tongue. "Your lack of consideration for Chris is appalling.”

In your peripheral view, you saw the man in question acknowledging your mother's declaration with a subdued nod. All you longed for was to violently upend the table and make your escape, stealing the vessel in which you arrived and forcing them to return to their abode by virtue of swimming.

Unfortunately, you were cognizant of your limits, and you simply didn't have it in you at this time.

In the end, knowing that a further discussion would be of no use, you reluctantly decided to tolerate their judgment while grinding your teeth and clenching your jaw tightly.

There did not seem to be any viable means of extricating yourself from such an unwanted reunion anyway.

Sanji knew that Zeff had barred him from the kitchen for his creative initiative with off-menu dishes, yet upon noticing the sorrow and anguish on your angelic visage, he felt a powerful impulse to personally cook for you. After all, you requested the best they had to serve, and there was no one who possessed the skill necessary to fulfill your exacting taste aside from him.

Sanji wanted to make you smile. It was his personal mission to delight the women who strolled into their restaurant, but with you, a distinctive motivation operated his dexterity with ease, driving all his actions behind the stove.

Sanji didn't know you, and it was already established that he lacked the will to resist an appealing lady whenever he saw one. But even though you were unfamiliar to him, you possessed your own unique vigor that seemed to fascinate him more than anyone else in the entire restaurant. Additionally, he could still perceive your delicate touch upon his forearm, causing his skin to tingle beneath the fabric of his rolled-up sleeve.

Patty had attempted to persuade him, fully aware of the excessive fury the Chef was prone to display upon discovering his colleague was cooking things that he never approved. Nevertheless, Sanji refused to listen, stubbornly cutting the fillet of cod into flawless square shapes, boiling the rice, and adorning your dish with the appropriate amount of seasoning.

As the best cook in all of East Blue, Sanji didn't just desire to produce food that was delectable to the palate. He wanted his creations to appeal to someone's soul, seeking to connect with their innermost sentiments and touch the deepest aspects of their heart.

Sanji wished to refrain from interfering, but it was straightforward for him to notice that you were unhappy and very uncomfortable in the presence of your handsy boyfriend. Frankly, no one else at the table seemed to possess a particularly considerate attitude towards you. You resembled the most unblemished bloom, a creature who could imbue an entire room with radiance. It was unbearable for him to see you afflicted.

The moment Zeff returned to the kitchen, Patty surreptitiously departed to the storage area. The food for your group was completed and ready to be served, although the man did not refrain from offering a plethora of critiques for Sanji’s work for your order. However, the young man swiftly put his jacket back on and retrieved the dishes while displaying an exuberant expression, leaving Zeff behind rolling his eyes at the sous chef for his constant inflexibility.

Over the next few minutes, you refrained from speaking while your parents discussed trivial matters with Joseph and Christopher, addressing topics that simply failed to engage you being related to their business. The flower had been placed on the tabletop and in front of your glass, which you incessantly observed for its beauty, grazing at the velvety petals with your fingertips. Your eyes then became transfixed on the ice cubes as they cracked and dissolved into the water, emitting a vivid rainbow-like reflection on your skin.

You mentally thanked the Divine and quietly breathed a sigh of relief when Sanji reappeared. He was holding two large trays filled with all of your meals, which were smoking hot and exuded a heavenly scent from their plates.

Just like before, you were the first to be promptly served in a chivalrous manner. Sanji set a bowl of rice before you, and just by taking a look at it, you could immediatly notice that it was a genuine work of art. The white grains were embellished with vibrant pieces of codfish, minced spinach, intermingled cherry tomatoes, and basil leaves. It was something refined, yet also simple enough for your taste. The chef who prepared the dish for you crafted it with clear passion and consideration for the ingredients.

"I have the most delicious pot of cod and rice for you, madam. A house specialty.”

The wink he gave you when you exchanged yet another glance with him struck you in the gut, but in order to prevent a third argument from erupting, you responded with a small, tight smile.

"A Bouillabaisse for the lady," he continued, extending a plate of fish soup to your mother. "And for our fine gentlemen, a boulette, bifstek, and Dress Shrimp Paella.”

You were inclined to laugh upon observing the dirty look that Sanji shot towards Christopher, almost halting himself in the middle of his action of setting down his plate on the table. You couldn't help but speculate that Sanji was potentially taking your side despite merely having observed your interactions.

Or at the very least, you liked thinking that was the case for once.

Christopher remained placid without uttering a word of protest, retrieving his fork and promptly engaging in devouring his food. Admiral Joseph and your parents proceeded to immediately take part in their dinner as well, and Sanji politely excused himself with his unique manners, moving to another table nearby.

Without hesitation, you picked up your spoon and scooped a serving of rice, inhaling its appetizing fragrance before introducing it to your mouth. As you started chewing, you closed your eyes in utter satisfaction, allowing the food to melt on your tongue before swallowing. The rice was incredibly rich and creamy, yet not heavy on your stomach. The cod was of significantly higher quality than any other fish you had, and the spinach seamlessly combined with the tomatoes in an exquisite explosion of flavors.

As you savored every bite of the meal, each one better than the previous, a large grin instinctively formed on your face.

Before vanishing behind the wooden doors of the kitchen, Sanji cast a curious glance towards you from afar. You were eating the meal with your eyes closed in ecstasy, savoring each bite of rice with care and delicacy. Your smile was so appealing that Sanji had never witnessed such a sight before.

Just then, you released a melodic cackle that Sanji could only barely detect from his distant position. He saw you turning to the others while gesturing at the bowl, bringing your hand against your chest, exactly where your heart was located. "If this isn't the most delicious thing I've ever tasted, I don't know what is,” you exclaimed.

Sanji's smile grew even wider upon hearing your assertion. He marveled at the sparkle in your eyes as you giggled with every mouthful of the rice he had prepared exclusively for you.

Your parents, Admiral Wheeler, and even Christopher all concurred in regards to the quality cuisine, regarding their dishes as incredibly satisfying and asking for further portions. Throughout the entire dinner, they seated at the table exuding a noticeably elevated sense of contentment. They were at a loss for words, and you definitely appreciated the peace and quiet with a lighter heart.

Unfortunately, the calm atmosphere didn't last long as your mother finally asked the dreaded question you had been avoiding for quite some time.

"So, when are you two going to tie the knot?”

You accidentally gulped down a considerable amount of water, leading to a series of coughs as you tried to alleviate the uncomfortable raspy feeling in your pharynx.

Chris let out a small chuckle, displaying a mixture of embarrassment as he scratched the back of his disheveled and unruly black hair.

"Ah, well. I haven't given it much thought yet," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

"You two are old enough to start your own family," she continued, "Hopefully, you won't keep us waiting for too long.”

You took a deep breath, keeping your composure and refraining from delivering a sharp retort to your mother.

As Christopher extended his right hand along the back of the sofa and brushed it against your bare shoulder, you shivered at the physical contact. You pushed yourself forward, reaching out to grab a slice of bread as an excuse to retreat from him and create some distance.

“Y/N? You don't have anything to say?" your mother questioned, her tone filled with anticipation.

You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating the appropriate response to give. Ultimately, you realized that you were mentally and emotionally exhausted to fabricate a falsehood.

“No, I don’t.”

The entire table's attention was now focused on you, as your parents stared at you intensely, their eyes fixed on your face with piercing scrutiny.

What?" you asked with your mouth full. "Do we really have to discuss this right now?”

"Yes, we do," your father replied. "Your carefree and indifferent attitude needs to change.”

With mounting annoyance, you allowed the remaining chunk of bread to slip into your empty bowl.

"I'm sorry, but we're discussing my life here," you said, asserting yourself. "Are you seriously going to make decisions on it without my consent?”

Once again, your father's temper flared. He stood up from the couch, using one hand to support himself on the table as he restrained his anger.

"Oh, you can rest assured that we will. What are you even good at without our guidance? Do you seriously believe that we would let you throw away everything we've built?”

This time, it was you who slammed your palms. "And what is it that you've built, dad? An empire of lies, hypocrisy, and dirty money?”

“THAT’S ENOUGH!”

A deafening silence spread across the room, causing the other diners who were engrossed in their own conversations to stop and redirect their attention to your table. The two of you engaged in a new staring contest with a comparable level of fervor, but in an effort to maintain a sense of decorum and avoid causing further ruckus in the restaurant, you exhaled a frustrated grunt and shifted slightly in your seat. You assumed a slouched position with your forearms crossed in front of you, diverting your teary eyes downwards.

Christopher attempted to provide you with some solace, sliding his hand beyond your hair while gently stroking the side of your face with the underside of his fingers. Still, you didn't want any of his attention. You moved your head away and shunned him by raising one hand up.

Admiral Wheeler cleared his throat, his gaze shifting between you and your father, as he swiftly downed the remnants of the drink in his glass.

It was an understatement to say that Sanji was infuriated. He was unaware of what led to the man's outburst, but the enchanting smile you had a second ago had been replaced by a much darker expression - a look he certainly did not like to see on a woman like yourself.

Discerning that you preferred not to be surrounded by those people sitting with you was easy for him to figure out. Were it not for his imperative task at hand, he would have acted as a knight clad in shiny armor, whisking you away from the callousness that blatantly depleted your spirit and caused you to have a strong yearning to shed tears.

A lady crying was a spectacle that Sanji couldn’t handle, not without feeling like he wanted to kick the one responsible for it.

For the remainder of the night, he continued to provide service to the arriving patrons and was repeatedly sent out of the kitchen by Zeff whenever he dared touching the stove again. For some reason, he couldn't get your lovely face, appearing completely distraught because of some imbecile's disrespectful treatment, out of his thoughts.

When he returned to your table to take a new order from the dessert menu, he noticed that your seat was now empty. Your mother had blurted out something about you taking too long in the restroom, presumably fixing your makeup that had started to deteriorate and ruin your appearance.

Sanji immediately recognized the mocking tone in her voice. As he returned to the kitchen to deliver the requested selection of sweets, a strange somberness settled in the core of his stomach.

Later, when he came back to the dining hall with the baked treats on a silvery tray, you were still absent.

You didn't even know how much time had passed since you hurried to the restroom. The urge to escape and be alone was strong, so you gave yourself a moment to cool off and fix your makeup as best as you could.

Right now, you looked like a complete mess. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, smudging bits of mascara beneath your reddening eyes. Your reflection revealed someone who was miserable, fragile, and hopeless, much like your younger self that you could still vividly see curled up in a corner of your room.

You were anticipating this night to wrap up in a couple of hours, but your parents weren’t showing any concern regarding how late it was getting now. Even though you tried your hardest to keep it together, it became increasingly challenging with each passing second. Your breathing became labored, your heart raced at an unimaginable pace that made you think it might shoot out of your chest, and your whole body started trembling like a quivering branch.

You anxiously wiped away the tears from your face, removed the smudged makeup from your skin, and took deep breaths to calm your racing pulse. As soon as you managed to regain control of your emotions and appear presentable again, you used your nails to comb through your hair, adjusted your dress, and proceeded to push open the door.

You stood frozen and paralyzed in front of the dining hall, watching as the others carried on with their meaningless chatter, seemingly oblivious to your state of mind.

But the harsh reality was that in truth, they didn't even care.

Your ears started to buzz and your surroundings turned into a muffled murmur, as if you were submerged underwater. Your hands tightly gripped your handbag, holding onto it with sheer desperation.

“…dam. Madam? Is everything all right?”

You quickly composed yourself when you heard someone speaking to you. The second you swivelled your head, you saw Sanji the waiter looking at you with a furrowed expression, his hands tucked into his pockets.

For some reason, his blue-ish eyes seemed to have a grounding effect, causing the ringing noise in your ears to immediatly fade away.

When your nerves became more solid and allowed you to feel stable enough, you gave him a response. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m okay.”

Judging by the way he slightly inclined his head to watch you, it was quite clear that you didn't sound very believable. You could have continued telling lies, even to yourself, returning to your seat and feigning like nothing had ever happened. But there was a certain attribute in him that urged you to let it all go, to stop pretending to be someone you were not, at least for one night.

In the end, a sad chuckle escaped you as you massaged your forehead in defeat. "Actually, no. I don’t think I am.”

"Can I offer you something sweet to bring back your beautiful smile?”

A slight tinge of red spread across your cheeks, causing you to cast another glance at your table from afar.

“Actually, I think I might need a drink now,” you clarified. “A strong one. And no, I don’t really like wine at all.”

A mischievous smile stretched across Sanji's face in response to your comment. "Tell you what, the restaurant has a bar outside. Would you mind if I joined you?" He asked.

You eyed him in bewilderment. “Aren’t you working?”

“I’m on my break,” he said. “And my shift is almost over.”

You pondered the proposal, peering at the dining table one last time to weigh out the undesirable repercussions. Vanishing with the Baratie's waiter would likely escalate your father's anger, and enduring a prolonged argument on the boat later was not an appealing prospect for you. Nevertheless, the more you felt Sanji's focus on you, the stronger your desire became to escape with him for the remainder of your stay. Returning to your seat didn't constitute an option you wanted to choose.

As you pushed your hair away and behind your ear, you issued a resolute nod to him. “Screw it. Let’s go.”

Sneaking out of the restaurant without being noticed by your family was less arduous than you thought it would be. They were engrossed in their continuous conversation, never lifting their heads or paying attention to the movements around them. Sanji softly grazed your back as he accompanied you, his palm making only slight contact against your skin. You relished the pleasant sensation of the heavy ring he sported on his middle right digit, feeling the coldness of the metal in contrast with the warmth of his touch.

Once you reached the mouth of the fish at the end of the ship, the energetic music coming from the speakers immediately captivated you. Patrons were stationed on the sofas with large colorful beverages placed on their laps, some engaged in dancing inebriatedly before the bar. As Sanji retrieved two vacant stools from a corner, he politely offered you one. You couldn't help but yearn for his electric touch again the moment his hand left you.

While you ordered a full tumbler of cocktail, Sanji opted for only a small glass of liquor. It was fine with you, as he needed to remain sober for the purpose of continuing his job later. You gently took small sips of the beverage using the straw, feeling the strong liquid burning down your throat. He took out a lighter from his pocket, idly toying with it while you sat in silence, transfixed by his flawless hands.

Your heart thumped harder as he turned to face you, his broad smile permanently etched on his perfect face. "I hope you don't mind me asking, Madam, but what brings a woman like you together with a man like that?”

You chuckled at his inquiry, amused by how effortlessly he recognized that Christopher was not the lifelong partner you had chosen for yourself.

"Do you ever feel like you're stuck, unable to move forward with your life?” You asked him.

Sanji's eyes appeared to shine when he heard your words. He glanced downwards, and you could see the hesitation tugging at the corners of his mouth. “More than I want to admit.”

You rotated ever so slightly on the stool to orient your face more directly toward him. “You don’t want to work here?”

"It's complicated, sweetheart.”

Downing more of your drink, you gave him an agreeing nod. "I guess that’s just how life works for some of us.”

Sanji stayed silent, but he continued to gaze at you as if you were an incomparable treasure.

His handsome features seemed to shine under the dim lights of the bar, even more brightly than you could have thought possible. You were almost tempted to brush aside those golden locks that covered his left eye, but you had to scold yourself for developing a similar attraction for someone you knew nothing about, and who naturally exuded a flirtatious attitude.

Maybe that drink was already starting to affect your lucidity.

As Sanji looked at you curiously, the gentle smile never leaving his face, you asked him, "Do you know why the caged bird sings?"

He thought about it for a moment before answering, "Because it has a song to give?"

You chuckled at his response and shook your head. "You're not entirely wrong, but no."

Using the straw to casually swirl the ice cubes in your drink, you observed the ripples that formed within the cocktail.

"A free bird leaps on the back of the wind and floats downstream, 'till the current ends, dips his wing in the orange sun rays, and dares to claim the sky. But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage. His wings are clipped and his feet are tied, so he opens his throat to sing."

Sanji appeared slightly puzzled, but he also paid close attention, listening intently.

“The caged bird sings with a fearful trill of things unknown, but longed for still and his tune is heard on the distant hill for the caged bird sings of freedom.”

When you assessed his reaction, Sanji's beaming expression turned into the most delightful toothy grin you had ever witnessed. “Is that a poem?”

You nodded. “One of my favorites.”

He looked away, steadily flicking his lighter on and off in a continuous flow of motion. "The bird sings because it wants to be set free.”

“Yes.”

This time, Sanji took out a white cigarette from a flat box, lit it, and held it between his middle and index fingers. He inhaled the nicotine before exhaling a puff of smoke, making sure not to blow it on you.

For some reason, you found even those actions to be seductive.

"I'm not a waiter, you know," he declared.

You snapped out of your daze. "What?”

"I'm a cook,” he explained, exhaling another puff of smoke. “The best one in all the East Blue.”

Confusion flickered in your eyes for a moment. "You're the chef in charge?”

“Ah, no. The old man is. The shitbag doesn’t appreciate my creative choices in the kitchen.”

You shrugged your shoulders. "Some imagination while cooking is always nice.”

“You should tell him that. You liked the rice, didn’t you?”

Your mind went blank as soon as you thought of that delectable bowl of rice. You looked at Sanji with awe, your eyes widening as the truth suddenly dawned upon you. “You made it?”

Sanji had an air of pride, laughing at your reaction and taking another deep drag from his cigarette.

"Whoa, okay. My mind is blown right now. That was seriously the be-"

"The best thing you've ever tasted?" He interrupted you, looking into your eyes with contentment. “I know.”

In a cheerful tone, you inquired, “Did you hear that?”

"I told you. I'm the best cook in the East Blue,” he replied. “But yes. I might have heard you.”

Sanji winked at you once again, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of anger at yourself as your knees weakened at such a simple gesture.

"Okay, hat off. It was delicious. Thank you for that.”

Without noticing, you had unknowingly gotten closer to his body, nearly touching his upper leg with yours. Sanji didn't seem to mind, as he continued to look at you without interruption.

A little tipsy from the drink, you leaned your elbow on the countertop, resting your head against the side of your palm. “Do you do this often?”

He maintained his smile. “Do what, Madam?”

“Flirt with your customers.”

"Only with the most beautiful ones.”

You licked your lower lip, feeling the heat spreading across your cheeks. “Do you think I’m beautiful?”

"Oh, trust me, Madam. Your beauty is blinding me.”

You leaned forward, lowering your voice to a whisper. "Y/N, please, I prefer simple things.”

You spoke with a slightly more mischievous tone than you had intended, yet you were unable to acknowledge any feelings of embarrassment as he got closer.

Sanji turned his face away without saying anything, proceeding to put out his cigarette and allowing his gaze to survey your body. You allowed him, granting permission for your heart to perform a series of somersaults inside your chest. It felt as though he was consuming you with his eyes alone, yet simultaneously, there was a very gentle aspect within those seemingly ravenous actions of his.

And just when you anticipated his lips to come closer to yours, his grin vanished. "I apologize for intruding, but is there anything I can assist you with?”

You raised an eyebrow, trying to grasp the precise meaning of his words amidst your hazy state. “Assist me?”

“Do you need help?”

And when you finally grasped it, you let out a brief sigh and closed your eyes. Moving your head away from your palm, you let your arm rest against the counter, with your hand inadvertently placed next to his.

"That's nice of you to ask, but no. Everything's good, really.”

"It didn't seem like it was.”

Sanji looked deeply serious, his kind-heartedness now evident. Your lips, slightly damp and chilled from the fresh cocktail, regained their smile. You gently brushed your fingertips over his black tie, sliding them around the knot.

Sanji seemed to swallow, taken aback by your unexpected gesture.

"Just like you said earlier, it's complicated.”

In the midst of the moment, he stretched out his fingers, letting them come in touch with your wrist on the bar counter. Nonetheless, the contact was tender, exhibiting no signs of pressure or ulterior motives. "I just don't see how anybody could clip the wings of such a lovely bird.”

Upon hearing those words, you had to summon all of your inner strength to suppress a new rush of tears that threatened to form. “Some birds are just not meant to fly.”

The anguish in your voice resonated deeply within him, and you could perceive a barely noticeable head shake of protest. But before he could refute your words, both of you were interrupted by the unmistakable voice of someone you knew, filled with anger and disappointment.

"Ah, so you've been here all this time.”

As you turned, your eyes landed on Christopher, who stood before you with a disgruntled expression. In a swift motion, you pulled your hands away from Sanji and straightened your posture.

"I just needed a drink," you said firmly, maintaining your position against the counter.

"Oh yeah? It looks like you needed more than just a drink," he retorted, casting a disdainful glance at Sanji.

"What is this dandy asshole doing with you?" he asked angrily.

Sanji tightly pressed his lips together, rose from his chair, and flashed Chris a significant, sarcastic grin. "How long did it take you to find her, sir?"

Christopher's complexion grew redder with each passing second as his anger escalated, causing you to audibly sigh in annoyance. In an attempt to calm him down, you reached out and touched his shoulder. "Can you let him be? He was just being polite. There's no need to create a scene," you pleaded, hoping to diffuse the situation.

"Well, it's not like you were drawing a line, were you? You seemed quite eager to jump into his pants like a damn whore," Christopher said, his tone filled with jealousy.

Before you had a chance to offer a proper rebuttal, Sanji stepped in front of you. "Do not speak of her that way."

Sanji's intervention only served to further fuel Christopher's rage, but a mix of emotions surged within you. Your heart raced and butterflies fluttered in your stomach, unaccustomed to such a protective act.

"I can speak of her however I want, she's my fiancée! Don't you have work to do, shithead?" Christopher spat, getting dangerously close to Sanji's nose in an attempt to intimidate him.

Despite Sanji's composed demeanor, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his trousers and his unwavering stare locked with his opponent's, you reached out and gently touched his back.

You moved forward to show your support and alleviate the growing tension. "You got it all wrong, Chris. Just let it go," you uttered. “Fights are against the restaurant’s policy, don’t make a fool out of yourself.”

From your peripheral vision, you could see that Sanji had turned his focus back to you. He displayed a clear sense of awe at your respect for their regulations.

Chris's breathing was filled with agitation and hatred. Despite this, he managed to compose himself, straighten the collar of his jacket, and scoff in Sanji's face. "Fine, but this conversation isn't over, Y/N."

When Chris turned away to leave, you noticed your parents seated on one of the large sofas in the lounge area, alongside Admiral Wheeler. While the admiral immersed himself in the music and bobbed his head to the rhythm, your parents sent piercing glares your way, filled with clear disapproval.

Anticipating what was about to unfold, you couldn't help but let out a final sigh of resignation. You refocused your eyes on Sanji, who maintained a quiet silence, examining your face with a slight upward curl of his lips.

“Thank you," you expressed, infusing your words with genuine gratitude and sincerity.

Sanji's lips stretched into another sweet, full smile, watching you pivot on your heels and approach your family. From his perspective, you looked like a victim walking to the scaffold, about to face your inevitable execution.

Go to Chapter 2 ->

#one piece liveaction #opla sanji #vinsmoke sanji #opla sanji x reader #story: why the caged bird sings

60 notes · View notes