#yes chef | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

archive-of-alexandria · 1 year ago

Text

Mind Your Manners (Sanji X Reader)

A/N: ITS KINKTOBER! I have it in my head that head-over-heels, perverted Sanji would absolutely give the Reader snacks or food that are just a little bit too messy as an excuse to watch them clean up after themself and I just had to write it out. Kinda feels yandere? Smutty Food Play, because I haven't seen enough kinky Sanji action on here. xx

Sanji knows better than to play with his food. However, the way you're sitting at the dining table - pretty legs tucked up underneath you and breasts pressed together as you lean on your elbows - makes him think that he may have to make an exception.

Sanji's rule about manners doesn't extend to you, however.

No.

Sanji goes out of his way to ensure that you'll make a mess in his kitchen.

Back during the summer months, the Going Merry had made a pitstop at an island known for their enormous strawberries. Sanji had been eager to try his hand at pastries for a change - tarts, pies, the works - and the gargantuan summertime fruits seemed the perfect challenge.

A challenge the cook didn't anticipate, however, was finding you elbow-deep in the barrel of harvested berries that same evening, caught literally red-handed from the saccharine juices that dripped from your fingertips to the floor with a heavy tap tap tap.

The sight was enough to make his heart nearly stop.

Your eyes had been wide and your flushed cheeks were even wider, stuffed with sweet fruit as juice covered your face and hands...and every bit of you was dripping. Sanji had been unsure of where to look and his eyes darted between your slick fingers, your shy expression, and your perfectly tinted, glossy lips. He had never seen a more heavenly sight.

In his mind, nothing could ever compare...until your tongue ran along the back of your hand in a feeble attempt to clean yourself.

In the darkness of his room, Sanji thought about that tease of a tongue for weeks afterward.

Ever since then, he has taken extra care to make sure that you're given the messiest meals he can make. They're not gross, of course - Sanji is a chef first and a lover second. No, they're not gross. They are delectable. Every hum of enjoyment, every slurp, every squish...Sanji would lie awake in bed and dream of the different foods he wished to cover you in, if only just to watch you lick it up.

You had offered to help him make cinnamon buns one morning - though not without taking a generous helping of frosting on your finger and sucking it clean. "Labor tax", you joked with a wink. The image of your tongue licking the sinful-looking sweetness from your finger, mingled with your contented sigh, was seared into Sanji's brain from that moment forward.

Sanji became obsessed with watching you eat.

Food has always been an extension of Sanji's love for his crew and an expression of devotion. The act of cooking is artistic, and the act of eating is intimate. Hell, the kitchen itself is a lesson in foreplay: the preparation, the getting hands dirty, the building heat, the waiting game...all leading to a very satisfying end.

If only Sanji's cooking prowess had an excuse to leave the kitchen and move into the bedroom.

Sanji has yet to make his cake and eat it too in the ways of romance, though it would seem that you have recently taken a keen interest in his particular set of skills. The cook has noticed an increasing frequency of your kitchen visits, observing the way your eyes seem to latch to his hands and arms as he works. You've grown bolder, assisting him in his preparations and letting your elbows brush up against one another.

Sanji relishes the days you ask for his help and he nestles you between his body and the table, guiding your hands in his much larger ones.

The cook has grown bolder too, sometimes pressing too tightly against your back to allow his front to press up against your firm bottom as he huskily mumbles praises in your ear. He swears, sometimes, he can feel you lean into him.

The kitchen is the way to Sanji's heart, and he hopes that it may be the way into your bed.

And here you were, seated at his table awaiting the meal he had promised to cook for you once the Going Merry restocked at port.

As Sanji wipes down his cooking station, he lets his eyes drink you in without shame. Your breasts are practically falling from your tattered blouse, soft pillows highlighted by the dim candlelight of the galley. You're playing with your fingers, unaware of Sanji's gaze. He smirks.

"Sanji," You sigh, flushing pink as you look up to meet his gaze already set upon you,

"Is it almost ready?"

He chuckles, crossing his arms.

"My sweet girl is hungry, hm?" He muses, tossing his dishrag over his shoulder,

"Just a few more minutes, love."

"Wha-? But-!"

"You can't rush perfection now, can you?"

"Sanji," You whine, wiggling in your seat. His eyes once again meet your chest.

"If I had known it was going to take this long I would have taken up Zoro's offer to go to the pub."

Sanji stiffens.

The chef stands to his full height, a cigarette appearing between his tight-pressed lips as he turns from you to check on the pot simmering on the stove.

You, however, hold your ground.

It's silent.

"I didn't know you and mosshead had plans."

Sanji's voice is low. Much too low, and empty. It unsettles you.

"San-"

"-It's ready."

In a manner much too abrupt for the usually smitten Sanji, a steaming bowl is placed before you with an alarming thud. The spoon rattles in reaction to his aggressive delivery.

The enticing smell of the ramen can't mask the uneasy way Sanji stands perfectly still in front of you, face shrouded in shadow except for the blazing butt of his cigarette.

You're unsure of where to look, splitting your attention between the meal before you and the man hovering above the table. Sanji makes the decision for you.

"You were so hungry just a moment ago," he quips,

"So eat up."

You swallow, heat pooling in your cheeks and between your legs. This was nothing but the "Zoro effect" on Sanji, as you and Nami call it. Gingerly, you take hold of the spoon. Peering into the bowl, the meal looks heavenly - though you're soon aware of the way your hair keeps falling into your eyes, threatening to become part of the soup.

Your hair had grown long during the months at sea, and you had unwillingly lent Usopp your last bauble for slingshot practice. Your frustration doesn't go unnoticed.

“Here, my darling,” Sanji hummed, circling the table until he was behind you, “Let me help.”

At this moment, Sanji feels dangerous.

Your body erupts with heat as the cook looms behind you, your eyes glued to the steaming bowl of soup displayed before you. The galley feels all too warm, and the meal before you begins to feel more like a test - a challenge - rather than a token of whatever unspoken feelings float between you and Sanji.

Without another word, Sanji’s cold fingers glide along your feverish neck, scooping up your hair in their wake. He gives his wrist a well-practiced twist, eliciting a gasp from your lips at the feeling of your hair pulled taught in his grasp. Sanji feels his ego swell, giving your hair a sharp tug. Your head is thrown back as he lowers himself to your ear.

"Go on," His scruff grazes you, and your skin is suddenly on fire.

"Eat."

Heat floods through Sanji as he watches the way your neck moves as you swallow, nodding at his command. He eases up on his grip and observes the timid way you scoop the broth into your mouth.

He catches the way your eyelids flutter closed at the taste of his meal. You liked it. You always liked his food.

Tonight, simply liking wasn't enough.

"Eating so silently? Don't you know it's rude to the chef?"

Sanji's eyes darken as your fingers twitch on the tabletop. So, he muses to himself, you think you would get away that easily?

"Don't you like it?"

"S-Sanji-"

"Don't use your words, pet. Just enjoy."

From above, he watches as the plush peaks of your breasts begin to heave quicker. You allow yourself to fully dive into the meal, this time taking noodles and broth quickly between your lips. For a moment, you seem to forget that Sanji is there. You hum, in something akin to ecstasy - Sanji had made this meal just for you, just the way you liked it.

The obscenely wet squelches of your lips slurping up his creation elicit a deep groan from the chef, fingers tightening their grip on your hair. He can't help but chuckle at the idea of Zoro sitting alone in some corner booth and nursing a drink, all while you're here sucking up and savoring Sanji's affection.

You lift your head, lips puffy from the spice and heat of the meal. Sanji presses himself into your back, as his free thumb comes around and wipes your bottom lip. Your gazes meet, and Sanji brings his thumb to his mouth - tasting remnants of your meal.

A low chuckle escapes his lips.

"What, my love? Finished already?"

You understand his insinuation, whipping your head back to your meal and bringing the ladle back to your mouth.

Eat it all up, love. Made just for you.

In a moment of weakness, Sanji gently pushes your head down.

You gag on the spoon.

Sanji moans.

His hips buck forward, desperate for friction, meeting the soft dip of your arched back. His throbbing cock digs into your back, your buttocks...Unable to compose himself, Sanji begins to rut himself against you – and you don’t protest.

Sanji knows how fowl this display looks, and yet he can’t help himself. He has wanted you - really wanted you - for so long...the idea that Zoro could possibly take you away from him was enough to drive him over the edge.

When Sanji hears your voice rumble from your chest - "nnnugh-! Sanji...!" - he swears by the heavens that he'll do anything to make you his.

His hand moves from your hair and wraps around your throat, slick with the broth that dribbles from your lips. He wishes to lick every part of your sticky, salty skin, gently squeezing your throat as you gasp out his name.

Your head lolls onto his shoulder, hand gripping the table as it shakes under the weight of Sanji's wild bucking.

Sanji is everywhere, mumbling streams of thought between hot kisses along your forehead:

"I fucking love you, you know that? Would Zoro treat you so well?"

"That pretty mouth, always teasing me - you think that's fair?"

"Just wanna fill you up with all of me, darling...Want those gorgeous lips around my cock..."

For all his talk, he fumbles and lurches forward. His hand unceremoniously lands in the bowl, soaking him up to the cuff in warm broth. You're both breathing heavily, the high beginning to wind down. However, you see your moment to gain leverage.

You grab hold of his wrist before he can think, turning your face ever so slightly to meet his.

With a twinkle in your eye, you guide his hand to your lips. Sanji's mind is a fluffy haze, unable to anticipate your next move.

"We don't waste food, right?" You purr.

You take Sanji's fingers into your velvety mouth and he practically sees stars. He has been dreaming of this exact pleasure for months, straining to keep from collapsing on top of you as your tongue swirls between his fingers.

As your cheeks hollow out around his digits, your hooded gaze keeps his in a near mocking way.

So, you had known his game all along.

Sanji's chest heaves against your back, his hot breath fanning across your face with a stutter. His inexperience shows in this moment, numb and capable of doing nothing but watching the expert way your mouth moves around his fingers.

A faint pop of your cheeks accompanies the release, a ghostly string of spit connecting his fingers to your lips. The faint moonlight catches hold of his soaked digits. Sanji inhales sharply.

His hand, frozen in your hold, is easily guided down...

down...

"I've already had my meal," you murmur.

A shiver.

His eager fingers meet your soaking, pulsing warmth.

"It's time you eat yours."

#sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #opla sanji #YES CHEF #Sanji is something so personal #absolute brainrot #sanji imagine #yandere sanji #this is GROSS ahaha #kinktober #kinktober 2023

750 notes · View notes