[TWST JP] SSR Sebek [Relaxing In My Room] Groovy And Sprites! 🐊🎉

whatever they are

Hope you're having a good one matcha!

Okay listen, the mafia one on modern part but they met in prison because Y/N is Kid's personal nurse because someone so notorious and big and scary like him can't be admitted with the other inmates rightttt

Soooo was thinking that he'll break out with her andddd it starts from there 😍 dark romance?? Hehehe ❤️‍🔥

KIDD; mafia

🌷matchadobo's 500 followers event🌷

dialogue: "i told you not to get close to me."

wc: 3971

warning/s: fem!reader, prisoner!kidd x nurse!reader, sfw (though kidd is cheeky and handsy fufufufu), fluff??, get together, idk if this is dark romance enough omg, nothing really crazy hereee hehehe

the most notorious gang of the south blue was the kidd pirates. their name strikes fear in the hearts of many. the crimes they commit are unfathomable to the ordinary. and in the middle of it all stands eustass kidd. the man who carries despair on his wake as he leaves his mark on every act he does yet he remain untouchable.

until he finally got met with a criminal greater than his caliber and the cops had luckily got to him. luckily. if it weren't for the injuries he sustained, the mafia leader would've ran away on the loose.

now settled on the farthest cell of the south blue penitentiary, his restless and bleeding state as he waited for the professional assigned to him. because no one is strong enough to handle the monster that he is. to even care for a damn criminal terrorizing their country.

not for you though, this was big money to you; now that this person is a special subject. the idea of him being a criminal is nothing compared to the digits you'll be earning for just one treatment with him. imagine the accumulation of that. after all, you've been in the healthcare industry for a long while, nothing can faze you.

except that when he's finally a few feet away from you and there was no one aside from you and him and the two guards that he could easily knock out even with cuffs, you felt your throat run dry.

"ah, i got a bonnie this time?" his voice was deep, befitting of a hulking, seven foot man like him. he said it with much interest, a grin on his lips as he eyed you from the doorway.

you took a good look at him from afar. his body littered with tattoos, representing the battles he won. his hair was in a shade of red as fiery as his demeanor. he still exudes power in him despite being injured and having restraints.

he looks like shit though. so beaten up, no wonder the authorities got to him. he had a massive scar spanning the side of his face with blood dripping down from his head, the emergency gauze in his face had already been coated with his blood. it cascaded down his chest up until his brachium. you sauntered to him and assessed his injuries.

"fucked up my tattoos, no?" he looked at his arm, still coated with dried blood.

"hardly." you forced a smile. "it's already fucked up."

kidd chuckled dryly. "hah. they sent an interesting one this time, aye? thought nurses are nice to their patients."

"nice patients get nice nurses. do you think it applies to you?" you sharply retorted. "come closer." you gestured for him to do so and the shuffling of the chains resounded in the cemented room.

you start by taking off the gauze in his facd, circling your arms on the sides of his head to remove it from behind. he got a good whiff of your perfume, smirking afterward as he closely examined how you look like.

"what's with the snickering?" you broke out, continuing your work without looking at him.

"nothin' really. don't mind me, bonnie." he continued to muse at you, as if memorizing how you look. "name, huh?" he read your nameplate pinned on the shirt one side of your chest.

you hummed in response. you revealed his nasty scar, his other eye with its bright yellows now finally looking at you. you grabbed a damp cloth and dipped it in antiseptic. "this'll sting really bad, okay?" you warned him, hovering the cloth above his massive wound.

he chuckled, smile growing at each of your exchanges. "you do know who your patient is, aye?"

"trust me, even a mass of destruction like you would fold from the pain." your face softened, as if teasing him before finally placing the cloth above his wound.

you could see him doing everything in his power to not move a muscle but you can see how much his jaw was clenching, his fists balled up as you press deeper on his fresh wounds. you let out a giggle, mumbling an 'i told you so'.

"still gonna be you tomorrow?" he broke out as you started packing up your stuff after finalizing his chart.

"why? are you going to miss me?" you said as a joke because you get the feeling he'd hate your guts, but what he said did something to your heart. illegally.

"suppose i will." he smiled meekly, dandelion orbs reflecting his anticipation. "careful on your way out, bonnie. don't want ya gone before tomorrow." he said as a goodbye but sounded more of a threat.

you couldn't get him out of your head that night. i mean, your search history has his name all over it. his origin, his crimes, his stories, what the news says about him, who he is—it was almost a crime knowing everything about it at this point.

so when you came back the next day and he was seemingly anticipating your arrival, you can't help but ask about him.

"how did a man of your caliber got caught?" you broke out when you were a few inches away from his face, nursing his wounds as it looked slightly better than yesterday.

"oh? did you look me up when you got home yesterday?" he grinned, eyes boring through you as he observed the adorable blushing of your cheeks. you gradually chewed on your bottom lip from his gaze. "how about it? you in awe, bonnie?"

you just snorted, fighting off the smile in your lips as you fetched him another cloth for his arms. you should really be ashamed, having fun with this criminal.

"no no, disappointed maybe."

kidd's eyes darkened. but you were doing it on purpose, rid him of that arrogance that he has over you.

"you're tryna piss me off or what?" his tone got a bit lower but you remain unfazed, even grabbing his arm and pulling him closer so you would have an easier time nursing his wounds.

"is it working?" you patted on his wound a little too hard and he winced. even the guards got a little freaked out but you felt too bold.

"are other nurses this fuckin' annoyin' or i got the short end of the stick?"

you broke into a smile, a laugh escaping your nose. "you can get a new one if you don't like me anymore, i can place a request for you." your voice was soft because you were pretty close to his face.

"don't you dare." he reached for your wrist but was restrained by the cuffs. the guards nagged him for it but he flipped them off. "been a while since things got interesting as hell. you're at fault for it."

"so i amuse you?"

"aye. don't get too close to me though. you're well aware of that."

"that won't be a problem, don't worry. i'm out of your tail once you're all better, eustass."

but it is a problem, it's starting to atleast. because this man is so very fond of you. from the moment he first tried speaking your name to the now where he naturally makes you laugh. but you're not one playing house with him, he just has his way with words and you somewhat share the same humor. you never forget the fact that the man before you has blood in his hands and you make sure you're not dancing in it.

"got a boyfriend, bonnie?" he said out of the blue as you almost cut your finger peeling some apples for him.

"i don't think it concerns you if i do have one." you carried on with your task, fixated on not cutting yourself. he really has an overwhelming presence even if it's been a few weeks now. you can feel him eyeing you, watching your every move.

"hm? a little cold now, huh? 's like we haven't been spendin' weeks together." he chuckled a little. "i'm askin' so i know if i should book a reservation at that fancy diner once i get out later."

you spared him a look of disbelief, laughing afterward at the absurdity of his words. but he just had a soft grin as he watch you break into laughter. "you're kidding."

he shook his head, smile remaining as he slyly raised his brows. adoring how you became a little red. whether it was out of embarrassment or something else, he knew it was about him.

"like what, you're gonna break out?" you said as a joke but he seemed serious with his scheming eyes and sharp smile.

"aye. it'll be carnage." he angled his head further and closer to your face, you felt his breath against your neck.

your eyes widen. for the first time, you felt fear against him. because you know he's serious about it. he's got a sentence for more than a couple of decades but it's of no significance for the most notorious of south blue. he'll escape in no time either by his mates or by himself.

"how do you know i won't rat you out?" you raised a brow, finally finishing the last apple slice and setting it down the plate next to him. you grabbed a fork and started feeding it to him one by one. he remains restrained ever since he got detained, he's too dangerous to remove from cuffs so even the most basic thing such as eating is done by you.

"just a gut. you don't want me gettin' in any trouble, aye?" he bit off the apple and chewed as his smile grew when you tried fighting off your smile with a subtle shake of your head.

"then if you think i do, you wouldn't break out of here."

"ah, where's the fun in that?" he shook his head and clicked his tongue. he soon motioned for you to come closer because he'll whisper something. "they're gonna be 'ere by midnight, standby till then. aye, bonnie?"

it was foreboding. there was only a couple of hours until midnight and you had to be going before then. he asked you where he'll be picking you up but you just laughed it off with him. he wouldn't do it, right?

part of you was in denial that he'd actually push through, he can't pull it off, right? this is a massive fortress in the middle of the ocean. how did he even communicate all of this to his gang? but that's a fucking criminal who's outsmarted the entire south blue, so it wasn't much of an unrealistic thing.

until the alarms blared a couple of minutes after midnight and you were jolted awake. still not having a grasp of the situation, you took a few seconds to settle in and align yourself with the state of just waking up and the damned alarm that messed with your brain.

you fell asleep on the nurse's on call room, a building away from the inmates. you told yourself you'd only take a moment to rest so you can pack up and leave but it was too late. gunshots had already filled the halls.

next thing you know, the door got knocked over by eustass kidd himself. he got shot in his other healthy arm and ended up collapsing down the floor from the impact. this guy is so fucking battered.

"oh, looks like i still found my way around you." he looked up, clutching his flesh arm that was shot with his newly lodged metal ones. without the cuffs, he generated one for his missing arm.

"y-you're bleeding again! i got you all healed up on one side and you're fucking up the other! is this on purpose!?" you frantically asked, looking around the room for a first aid kit.

kidd chuckled, "still true to your duty even in off times? you're one hell of a nurse."

you heard the steps and the gunshots nearing, and you didn't think twice to drag you and kidd to the bathroom. the guards soon entered the on call room and it was a goddamn mess it looked like a typhoon ran through it. but kidd was nowhere in sight. the only place left to check was the bathroom, which had its lights on.

"w-what the fuck are you- why are you strippin'?!" kidd turned red and all flustered, you had him standing at the other end of the tub with the water running from the shower on the other end. "also, why the fuck did you turn the shower on?!" you hushed him, as if telling him to trust you.

you wrapped a towel around you and then took everything off. only thing left is your panties so you appear quite literally naked. you then got in the tub with kidd. wetting your hair, your face and shoulders before drawing the curtain. kidd remained in his position uncomfortably standing as far as he can and keeping his eyes off of you, even though the proximity was so suffocating.

not even a second passed and the door busted open with the cops and their rifles pointed at the drawn curtain. they instantly dropped their guard and got flustered when they saw you peak from the shower.

"oh shit- sorry, nurse name. we're just- your patient broke out, the mob boss-"

"get out!"

they left apologizing, not questioning you anymore because they have seriously overstepped. the fact that the suspect might be inside flew off their heads when they saw a half naked woman.

"did all that just to save my ass? and now you're half naked before me? aren't you such a doll." kidd said behind you, turning off the shower as he got close to you in doing so, his chest pressing on your back. "let's get that shit off, aye? water makes my metal arm go weak."

it was at that point where everything had dawned in on you. the bullshit you were doing. helping a criminal and you were on your panties with just a towel covering your bare frame before him. you felt cold and you instantly stepped out the tub.

"oh? don't be scared. i won't fuckin' bite. matter of fact, i respect it. made me admire you more." kidd planned to get out but you just rushed to him and drew the curtains once more. pushing him quite fiercely back in the tub he almost slipped.

"s-stop! i-i'll g-get d-dressed first!" you said in much like a blabber, hurrying to just put some clothes on. kidd couldn't contain his smile, leaning his head by the walls and laughing silently to himself. the pain in his arm fading with the burst of joy. his heart getting a little too excited for you.

once it's all over you had him sit down the toilet seat so you can clean his wound and take the bullet out.

"hey, bonnie." he started, observing how you try to calm down with that flustered look on your face amidst prepping his wound to take the bullet out.

"mind tellin' me why you're doin' all this? coulda just left me there, aye? it ain't me to sweat the little things but it makes me wonder a lot about you. ain't you scared of me? for what i might do to you now that i ain't in cuffs anymore?"his voice was dark and he spoke a little slower this time. with sincere and observant eyes. he's making you feel hot with his gaze, so much so that you can't get the damn gloves in your sweaty hands.

"shut up just- shut up." you mumbled, still not looking at him in the eye. his metal hand grabbed your hand, which was earlier busy with tending to his shot arm, to stop you so you can look at him.

"i told you not to get close to me." he started, "so why the fuck are you still playin' nurse while i'm on the run?"

he wasn't teasing nor was he fucking around. kidd was genuinely looking for answers. because he makes a damn good point in calling you out. but you don't know either. you can just leave him lying around. get his head roll so peace will finally be in the south once and for all. but you can't because you're way too fond of him too.

you revere the rush with him. you're such a freak really, the adrenaline you get from the danger he exudes. he makes you excited. feeling like this for a patient is unethical but hell, at this point with the shit you're doing, you're bound to lose your license at this point.

"i didn't forget that dinner you promised." you sat before him, gloves finally in place while holding the forceps you had in your first aid kit. "now keep quiet cause i'll get that bullet out."

kidd was speechless. his heart running a mile per second, the pain in his arm as you carried out the task was almost dulled because he couldn't hear anything but his heart. he never thought you'd feel the same way. he thought you were way out of his league. but here you are now, saving him for another chance and not leaving him susceptible for infection.

but it was not long before he squirmed in pain when the bullet lodged in his brachium moved with you trying to pull it out. you tried alleviating his agony by gently holding him in place by the side of his neck, your thumb soothing circles near his pulse. he was going fucking ballistic at this point with your touch and stimulation and the excruciating pain in his arm.

once you got the bullet out, he was sweating. his body limp and leaning on the tiled walls of the bathroom. you stitched him up soon after cleaning his wound and then bandaged him. he was quiet and was watching you the whole time. very still and was not even teasing you.

"that was the longest i've heard you shut your mouth. was it that painful?" you joked, chuckling as you cut off the final strip of bandage from the roll.

but kidd had pulled you into a kiss with his metal arm when you met his eyes after your joke. he caught your breath as he grinned through your lips, angling his head better to sneak in his tongue. and you just melted like a puddle. your eyes wide open throughout the kiss.

but it was not long before you melted, taking him all in and closing your eyes. his tongue driving you nuts as you squeezed on his thigh, asking him to stop because more of it will make you explode.

once he pulled away, he gave your chin a little poke. the metal playfully meeting your skin with its cold surface.

that's how the most notorious man of the south had escaped with his assigned nurse. news spread out quickly that it was a love out of a novel that sparked in the walls of the prison. some crazy x crazy crap you two danced on.

because why else would you be so keen on making yourself smell good before he picks you up for that dumb dinner? maybe he'd like a sweet smell? or maybe a powdery smell? an erotic one?

and when did the most notorious overthought how he did his hair when he never really cared about it? would you like to see it messy? styled?

kidd had you wore a silk red dress he picked out while he donned a matching one. he pulled up with his convertible on one of his villas that he had you stay in for the time being. he let himself in and waited for you by the couches near the stairs, impatiently at that.

"couldn't wait any longer in your car?" your voice echoed the huge walls of his manor. he looked up and saw you, his heart skipped a beat at how mesmerizing you already look even when you're this far.

"i don't like waiting." he replied, a soft grin as he kept his eye on you as you descended the stairs and finally got close to him. "knew red would look good on you." kidd snaked his flesh arm on your side, placing a kiss down your neck so as to not ruin your make up.

he felt your pulse quicken and your breath hitch when he pulled away. his arm around you tighten. his cologne pungent. and you saw his scar up close, the one you nursed—god, he looked hot.

"hm? somethin' on my face?" he tilted his head a little, discerning the look in your eyes.

you held his cheek close and placed a kiss on his lips. a kiss that's been precarious and has been begging ever since you two parted ways—when he dropped you off of this villa and he went to his own place for a couple of days. you didn't catch sight of him nor did he stop by for a few days, you figured it's some things he's catching up on with the underworld cause he's been MIA for several weeks because of his arrest.

"your lips need more pigment, i don't want you looking dead when i got you all healed up." you wiped your thumb to the corner of his lips, getting rid of the smudged area. you admired your creation with a soft grin.

kidd fought every fiber of his being to not just sling you in his arm and take this all upstairs. after all–with one flick of his finger, that metal ring that keeps your dress together will come right off because that thing you did flipped a switch in him.

"since when did you become so damn cheeky." he slung his arm behind your neck and walked with you out the door. he shut the door behind you before manipulating the car door with his ability from afar so you could get in with ease.

"hm? isn't that one of the things why i amuse you?" you faced him, observing how he would react at your reply. but your stomach was already growling so he ended up laughing in driving off.

"you're kiddin'. how're you only gonna eat a steak dish at a michelin restaurant?" kidd almost berated you at your hesitance when you're literally having a date with one of the richest people in the world.

"i-it's my first time here i want to take it easy, plus i... think it'd be overstepping if i order a lot." you fiddled with your fingers. this wasn't your usual saturday nights so you felt a little shy about it.

"bonnie." he pulled you closer by the curve of your hips, the seat was a semicircular sofa surrounding half of the circular table so he was handsy with you. "this is my treat. the shit i'm spendin' 'ere ain't even a dime to me. so fuck off with that oversteppin' shit you're on about and enjoy the dinner with me, aye?" he slowly laid it out for you in his ear, his fingers digging on the sides of your bare thigh.

as you almost break into a smile, you hear gunshots from afar the restaurant with wares breaking and people exclaiming. kidd's grip around you tightened and he immediately pulled out his gun.

then it dawned in on you. you're both wanted, branded as fugitives. you might as well learn how to fight now, because you'll always be doing it with kidd on your side. constantly being on the run as the first lady of the south blue's most notorious man.

AAAAAHHH 🥹🫶 this was kinda hard to do! i didn't know how to make it dark romancy? as a SN this got me thinkin too much 🫣😳

thank you so much for the request anon! 🌷 kidd as a mafia boss 🤩🔥

if you guys are interested in requesting a fic for my 500 followers event, my askbox is open! click here for the main event post for more info :DD i have slots for forced proximity, hurt to comfort, fantasy, he puts you in your place (smut), and modern aus!

They can never make me hate u Savanaclaw. NEVER‼️‼️‼️

YAHOOO ZINE PIECE REVEALLL!!! I'm actually so glad I got to experience being in a zine and the fact that it's centered around Savanaclaw too??? HELL YEAH BEST FIRST EXPERIENCE (REAL!!!)

Go check out @princes-uprising !!! The zine will be out real soon so if u love Savanaclaw, THIS ONE'S FOR YOU‼️‼️‼️🫵🫵🫵

I'll jumpscare u guys with the second banger tomorrow ;)) lmk if u wanna be tagged! (Looking at the Leona enjoyers especially pspspsps hey come here I got something for u)

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A gift for my boyfriend 💕

the base i use.

things I won't tell you

vinsmoke sanji (opla) x princess!reader

♡—the new royal chef doesn't seem to recognize you without your crown. who's going to tell him? . . . certainly not you.

word count♡— 7.3k (cries)

genre♡— fluff, royal chef x princess au

content notes♡— opla sanji, afab!reader is a princess, reader wears dresses, reader has siblings (oc's), sanji made me google fancy food, mentions of zeff, sanji gets jealous if you squint, no use of y/n, proofread (but only a little)

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is detached from any canon, its basically just a big chunk of sanji fluff. please enjoy!

You've never really dreamed for yourself. You had always just let life fall into place around you.

The kingdom is prospering, entering a new age of commerce. Artists, craftsmen, and inventors sail seas just to be part of it.

Your sister Chrysanth is a wise queen, as you always knew she would be. She’s fair and just, always knowing what’s best for her people.

On the other hand, your brother August is Captain of the Royal Guard. He’s an excellent swordsman, who has yet to be beaten ever since he took command.

As for you, the youngest of the three, you have no idea what you’re doing.

The most likely outcome would be for you to be married off to settle some political arrangement. Unpleasant as it sounds, you would have agreed to it for the sake of the kingdom.

But the moment you said so, Chrysanth gave you a look unbecoming of a queen and immediately shut it down.

“Look,” She gestured to the view outside. “Does that seem like a kingdom who needs help to you? I work my butt off precisely so that we won’t have to depend on anyone else.”

“Besides,” She adds, “if anyone wants your hand, they should fight to the death for it.”

And so, for now, you work for your sister. Helping manage general affairs and the kingdom’s business agreements—even though she could easily hire someone else.

“I love that you insist on working,” Your brother told you once. “You could have been a socialite, but you’re here with us, serving the people.”

Of course you are. Because even though you didn’t necessarily plan it, you are proud and committed to your work. You’re happy with your own, mundane accomplishments.

Or at least that’s what you try to remember when you glance at the tall pile of documents on your desk. You’ll relish the satisfaction that will come when it’s gone.

The candle beside you burns low, flame becoming dimmer and dimmer as the hour grows late. You should probably replace that. Pulling open your drawer, your eyes scan its contents for a candle.

You’re fresh out of the tall ones that fit in the candleholder, but you have one sculpted like a cinnamon bun—a gift from August a few birthdays ago. It’s not exactly the best for illuminating your work, but something makes you strike a match and light it still.

It smells like freshly baked cinnamon rolls, you can’t help but inhale the decadent scent deeply.

The aroma triggers an embarrassing grumble from your stomach. You feel your ears burn despite the fact that no one else is around to have heard it. Perhaps a midnight snack is in order.

Unexpectedly, light seeps through the gap beneath the large wooden double doors to the kitchen. In all your years, you’ve never encountered anyone in the kitchen at two in the morning.

Normally, you wouldn’t want to disturb them. Knowing the chefs, they would likely fuss over you and put whatever they were doing on hold.

But you fear that your stomach will disagree with that, so you decide to knock and enter the kitchen anyway.

There’s only one chef inside—a tall, blond man with his back to you. You don’t think you recognize him. He must be one of the new hires.

When he hears your footsteps on the stone tiles, he turns around.

His expression, at first, is curious. But after a beat, his mouth curves into a charming grin that catches you completely off guard.

“Hello there, miss.” He nods in greeting, eyes alight with a look that no one usually dares when it comes to you.

“I’d be happy to fix up something for you if there’s anything you’re… craving.”

When you expected the chef to fuss over you, this isn’t what you meant.

Your first instinct is to look at his surroundings for alcohol. Perhaps he’s intoxicated and not in his right mind?

But the (sober) chef seems to have mistaken your silence for bashfulness, because he presses you further, “Trust me. I may be new around here, but I know my stuff.”

Unsure how to respond to his blatant (or insolent, your sister would say) behavior, you try to gently decline his offer.

“It’s alright,” You say, still uncertain about him. “I was only going to make a sandwich and be on my way.”

“Nonsense!” He insists. “If you’re hungry at this hour, it means you’ve been busy working too hard.”

He approaches the pantry, retrieving one too many things for a mere sandwich. Your concern grows when he grabs garlic, several leafy vegetables, and a lemon.

“You, my dear,” He points at you with, is that a cucumber? “—deserve a proper treat.”

You sigh, it looks like he doesn’t intend to back down. Maybe you should just let him do what he wants and see if he can back up all the talk. Pulling one of the chairs from beneath the kitchen island, you take a seat as you observe the flirtatious chef.

At least he seems to be enjoying himself. His hands work with the kind of precision that only comes from years of experience; and he smiles proudly when he sees you watching.

“I meant what I said, I’m a damn good cook.” He’s begun chopping the vegetables. “My name’s Sanji, by the way.”

The question now is whether or not you properly introduce yourself. It's difficult to deny that you enjoy his attention. The casual and relaxed manner he addresses you with is… a nice kind of different. When else are you going to experience that if you let this go?

Alright. For tonight, you're not a princess. You're someone who stumbled upon a chef—a handsome one, it dawns on you. This is a chance encounter in the palace kitchens. And, you glance over at the dressing and ingredients he prepared, why should you turn down good food?

You decide to only give him your name. It feels strange introducing yourself without your title, but you don't tell him that.

“It makes sense that your name is as captivating as you are.” Sanji's voice is smooth, easygoing as he moves around the kitchen.

Nothing about his demeanor changes. Either he really doesn't know anything about this country's royalty, or he's skillfully controlled his reaction and is hiding that he knows.

There's also a third possibility: that you look so haggard and tired that you simply do not appear royal anymore.

Subconsciously, you look at your typical office clothes… Maybe you should go on that fitting the royal stylist has been pestering you about.

On the topic of style, however, your companion has unusual attire for a chef. He’s wearing a buttoned shirt with a necktie. His black slacks match the suit jacket draped over one of the chairs.

Your attention is diverted when Sanji begins rolling up his sleeves. He juices the lemon he had sliced in half, arms flexing as he twists the fruit.

Clearing your throat, you ask him a question to distract yourself. “What are you making?”

He smiles as if he’s glad you asked. “A dish that suits a beauty like you, of course.”

Several minutes later, he presents you with a sandwich. The slices of bread are whole wheat; the layers of ingredients between them are all in varying shades of green.

“A green goddess sandwich, made with care for the goddess in front of me.” Sanji pushes the plate towards you. 

It's easy to stay composed despite the flattery because your hunger makes you focus on the food. “It really does look excellent.” You compliment earnestly.

He gestures to the plate before placing his hands in his pockets. “Tastes excellent too, try it.” Shaking your head at how confident he’s being, you pick up the sandwich.

It might just be the best sandwich you’ve ever had in your life. The flavors are fresh, and you catch the hints of lemon blending with the dressing. The bread is soft, contrasting with the crunch of the cucumbers and sprouts.

You're completely surprised, and it must be obvious based on how Sanji reacts. He lets out an adorable, pleased laugh that makes you want to hear it again.

“I knew you’d like it, ma chèrie.” Sanji reaches a hand towards your face. Your heart just about stops when he brushes his thumb to wipe at the corner of your mouth. His eyes look so intense, like you'll drown in them if you stare too much. 

It feels as if your face could burst into flames at any second, so you turn away to hide your flush.

As Sanji grabs you a glass of water, you ask him if he’s eaten. “I did, but it’s nice that you’re worried about me.” He answers. You almost choke on your drink.

Once you've finished your meal, you stand then grab your empty plate and glass. But Sanji mirrors you, blocking the way to the sink. Why must a chef have such broad shoulders?

He shakes his head, trying to get the dishes from you. “Can’t let you do that, love.”

“Why not?” You frown, pulling your arms back so he doesn’t reach them.

“It’s late. You shouldn’t be working any more—”

“But you’re allowed to?” You look up at him defiantly.

Sanji stares at you. You stare back. There's a few seconds of silence before you sprint the other way, running around the kitchen island to get to a different sink.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Sanji yells after you.

You’re almost there, but Sanji catches up to you easily. Before you know it, he’s blocking the way again and you curse, remembering his long legs.

“Sanji, let me do the dishes.” You plead, but he’s as stubborn as it gets.

“The knives I used need to be washed anyway, and I’m not about to let your pretty hands do that.” Sanji winks, and you give up. He pries the dishes from your hands.

Seeing your shoulders slump disappointedly, he offers you a compromise. “If you really want, you could throw the rubbish in the bin and wipe down the counters.” Okay, you can do that.

“Are you sure this is the only way I can repay you?” You ask, grabbing a washcloth to begin cleaning up.

“That’s plenty of help, my dear.” Sanji answers.

But after a moment, he seems to have gotten an idea. Your brows raise in curiosity as you question him, “What?”

“...I was just wondering,” He begins, looking at you with that flirtatious glint in his eye. “Since we had such a wonderful time tonight, would you be willing to join me again?”

“That depends,” You press your lips together to suppress the smile blooming on your lips. “Will you cook for me again?”

Sanji laughs, throwing his head back. “Darling, that’s a given.”

He gazes at you while he dries his hands. There’s a grin on his face as he asks, like he already knows your answer. He probably does. He’s probably right.

“Same time tomorrow?”

Even though you got back to your chambers at an ungodly hour in the morning, you woke up feeling the most refreshed you’ve ever been. There’s a spring in your step as you get ready for the day, and you pick clothes that are slightly more dressy than your usual attire. Sanji shouldn’t be able to notice that you dressed up for him, right?

But your sister does. 

Seated at the head of the table, Chrysanth stops eating to analyze your clothes the instant you show up to the dining hall for breakfast.

You could practically hear the gears in her head turning. Avoiding her gaze, you bow to greet her before taking your seat, “Good morning.”

The queen only smiles at you knowingly, eyes still flickering over you with enraptured excitement. Very much unlike a queen, however, she kicks your shin underneath the table.

“Ow!” You yelp.

“So…” She lets the syllable drag on. “Who’s the guy?”

You focus on piling food onto your plate, choosing to ignore her. “What guy?”

“Your guy.” She says, giddy. “Is he your guy yet?”

“Hm?” Is your only response. Breakfast looks lovely. Should you ask for coffee or tea today?

Chrysanth kicks you again.

“Hey!” You rub the skin to dull the pain. “Stop that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” She persists, waving a hand to gesture at your clothes. “You only wear that skirt when you want to impress someone.”

Mentally cursing her for knowing you too well, you continue to act nonchalant.

“Really, it’s nothing.” You try to clarify. “I just thought that it would be a nice change.”

She doesn't believe it. Not one bit of it. Thankfully though, she drops the topic. Your shoulders relax as the discussion switches to work-related ones. She’s telling you about her plans to approve a restaurant in the museum when your brother joins you for breakfast.

Once he’s seated, August takes one look at you before tilting his head. “Who’s the guy?”

Chrysanth looks far too smug and triumphant than you’d like. You bury your face in your hands. Would Sanji also tease you if he knew?

The rest of the day is uneventful, the only change to your typical work day being that you avoid your siblings like the plague. You have lunch brought to your office and skip on dinner.

Sanji had already started cooking by the time you got to the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind,” He says. Of course you don’t, whatever it is smells amazing. “I thought I’d start early so you wouldn’t have to wait too long.”

“Thank you for going through the trouble.” You say, glancing at the ingredients he had laid out: there are crushed tomatoes on the counter. Pasta simmers in a pot on the stove. You recognize the tubed shapes with ridges surrounding them.

“Rigatoni?” You ask, turning to the chef.

Sanji nods, “With a simple, creamy tomato sauce. Nothing too extravagant, but still specially made for you.” 

He puts the pasta into two bowls, grating parmesan cheese on top. Your mouth waters.

“Here you are, darling.” It pleases you more than you thought it would when Sanji sits across from you to eat as well.

There’s something homey and yet luscious about the taste. He really outdid himself. “It’s delicious, Sanji.”

“I live to please.” Sanji says before standing to retrieve two wine glasses and a bottle of red. “Zweigelt.” He says as he pours for you both. “Juicy and fresh, with just the right amount of acidity.”

You almost swoon at the rasp in his voice. You never realized someone could be so attractive when talking about wine.

As he clinks his glass with yours, you think to yourself that this might be your favorite dish from him. However, true to his word, he surpasses your expectations every time.

After a few weeks, on your sixth (or is it seventh?) time meeting Sanji past midnight, you've reached the point where you're able to open up to each other beyond the pleasantries that come with the food.

He tells you about his dream of traveling the seas in search for the best ingredients the world has to offer. You admit how you sometimes feel like life is just taking you along with the current—that you’ve never had a burning, passionate dream to aspire to.

“I don’t think that’s a bad thing,” Sanji hums contemplatively. “There aren’t any deadlines when it comes to finding dreams.”

“I do worry that you’re working yourself to the bone, though.” He adds, and for once, his smile looks different somehow. It’s a fond, gentle smile that’s sweeter than the macarons he made for you.

“What do you mean?” You take a sip of water.

“While I'm flattered you enjoy my food so well, do you eat properly? Shouldn't the palace be treating you better?” This time, you actually choke on your drink.

Could it get more embarrassing than this? Your ears burn as you cough, trying to clear your throat and settle your heart.

“Breathe, love." Sanji, ever the gentleman, is next to you in a flash of a second. He pats your back gently and supportively. “I'm sorry if I startled you.”

“It's alright—and, I do eat,” Your voice comes out raspy. “It's just that I don't usually have an appetite for dinner.”

“But that leaves you hungry for a midnight snack?” Sanji asks, a knowing expression on his face as he refills your glass.

“Exactly.” You smile. Thankfully, your throat has calmed down. Picking up a vanilla-flavored macaron, you savor the taste that melts sweetly on your tongue. Returning to his chair across from you, Sanji watches you eat happily. 

“I take pride in my desserts, but that chocolatier in Belltower street… The sweets are just—out of this world, I tell you.” He looks so excited as he talks, eyes aglow and gestures animated. “The chocolates are handmade and everything. I'm sure you've heard of it?”

“Um…” Hesitating, you certainly remember issuing a business permit for a chocolatier; but you can’t say you’ve gone there yourself.

Sanji’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Surely you’re pulling my leg. You haven’t been?”

“...”

He observes you quietly, like he's considering what to do next. There have been instances when Sanji stays quiet, doesn't eat, and only watches you chew. The times where he insists that he's content with seeing you eating well. Those were awkward at first, but you learned that was just part of spending time with him. Your reaction was a reward on its own.

But this isn't like that. Something feels oddly different in the way he seems to be gathering his composure. The silence almost worries you, but thankfully he breaks it first.

“You’ve saved me the trouble of thinking of a place to take you to.” Laughing, Sanji practically glows in elation. “You’ll love it, I promise.”

You had a peculiar sense that you would’ve loved going anywhere, as long as you were with him. 

Feeling bold, you suggest, “I’m free this Saturday if that’s good for you?”

He gives you that soft, enamoured look again. Something makes you hold your breath, your fingers tingle and the entire rest of the world slows down. You’re almost certain you’re giving him the same look.

“Even if I wasn’t, love, I would have gone to you anyway.”

The next day, a Thursday, your brother unexpectedly knocks on your office door.

“Hey,” You smile. “Is something wrong?” 

It’s rare for August to look for you in the middle of the day. If either of you need to speak, it’s usually you who heads into the training grounds to talk to him. The other way around occurring is curious.

“I wanted to invite you to watch the knights train this Saturday.” He says coolly. “It would boost their morale if you spoke a few words.”

The commander goes on to speak, not catching that you’ve short circuited somewhat, trying to rack your brain for a valid excuse to decline him.

“And maybe, you could pick out a personal knight like I’ve been telling you.” August prompts. “You really should—”

When he pauses, squinting his eyes at you suspiciously, you suddenly recall why you stopped trying to hide anything from him. 

“You already have plans.” He says, face carefully blank.

“Yes.” Thank goodness he understood. But wait, his eyes are widening. Why is he making that face? Why is he looking at you like he just figured out—

“You have a date.” Darn it all.

August is bewildered, not knowing what to do with the information he put together. He awkwardly brushes his fingers through his hair.

“...Is he a good guy, at least?” He settles with, asking carefully in that concerned way he does when he looks out for you.

Biting your lip, you nod. “He seems to be, so far.”

“Okay.” August responds. “Does Chrysanth know?”

“It’s nothing serious.” Yet. Yet? Do you want it to be? “You’re the first I’ve told.”

A worrying thought suddenly pops in your mind. Your turn to him, distressed. “Please don’t tell her yet, August.”

“Why?” His frown deepens, like he’s about to ask more questions. Unfortunately for him, you decide you’ve had enough talking about Sanji to your brother for today.

“Aren’t you busy?” You grab his arm, guiding him out of your office. “Don’t you have training to get to?”

“I do, but—why can't Chrysanth know?” You open the door for him and try to push him out, but August plants his feet; still trying to figure you out. He doesn’t budge an inch.

But then he makes that face again. That annoying ‘aha!’ face.

“You really need to go, good luck with training! Tell the knights I said hi—” You manage to shove him out with all your strength, but at the last second before you close the door, August turns around again.

“He’s a commoner, isn’t he?” You slam the door at his face. 

It doesn't matter. Sanji's status will never matter to you. Not when he's holding your hand so sweetly while he guides you through the winding streets of the city. You recognize some shops by name, knowing who owns what and when they established their business. But Sanji knows these streets, and he's more than happy to show you.

“Ah, one moment, my dear.” Sanji pulls you towards a quaint little cart overflowing with flowers. He flicks a coin to the vendor, eyes scanning all the vibrant colors and bursting petals. 

Somehow, without you needing to tell him, he picks one in your favorite color. You're starting to feel like that's just part of being with Sanji—that he knows what you want, and knows what you need before you do.

The flower is soon tucked into your hair, behind your ear. His fingers linger on the side of your face—and normally, you'd break eye contact and shy away. Maybe let out a halfhearted excuse that you should continue on your way. But you don't.

You smile back at him, not bothering to hide the genuine happiness you feel. And when Sanji pulls back, you're already holding out your hand before he reaches for it. There’s something in his eyes. Something that makes you feel like you're walking on air when he tugs you along again.

As planned, Sanji takes you to the chocolatier he told you about. The building is small, tucked between larger shops in the middle of a busy street, but there’s no doubting the quality of their confections.

The elderly chef behind the counter greets Sanji like a grandson she hasn’t seen in forever. She ushers him in, enthusiastically pointing to this and that, saying she moved some furniture around as he suggested.

“It looks perfect, grand-mère.” Sanji smiles, taking in the beautiful glass display. Chocolates of every flavor cover the shelves from end to end.

Grand-mère’s eyes light up when she sees you. She casts an approving look at Sanji, “I like this one. She might even be too good for you.”

“That’s because she is.” Sanji laughs, and you pretend to browse the menu while they talk.

“No need for that, ma chèrie.” The menu is plucked from your hands. Sanji sets it aside, pointing instead to where grand-mère is behind the counter. She's wrapping up a box of chocolates that she hands to you.

“No need to pay, dear.” She smiles, patting your hand. “If he ever gives you trouble, let me know.”

Sanji whisks you away through the streets again. You've never been this far into the city before. Looking back at the path you've taken and not recognizing any of it, you know you’d be absolutely lost without Sanji by your side.

“Almost there.” He tells you, pointing to a cobbled path that inclines upwards. 

What meets you at the top of the path is a small clearing. A stunning tree with blossoms on its branches stands at the center. Flowers and petals flutter away and fall onto the iron bench beneath it.

“Sanji, this is lovely...” You trail off, letting go of his hand to catch a flower into your palms. The flower twirls delicately between your fingers before you turn back to Sanji, tucking the blossom into the pocket of his suit.

Sanji takes your hand before you can pull away, bending down to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Not nearly as lovely as you.”

The two of you spent hours under that tree, sharing chocolates and stories—feeling like this is how things are supposed to be. Not necessarily the flowers, or the chocolates, or even the sun setting beautifully in so many warm colors.

Just Sanji. With you, next to you. 

All at once, it sinks in that he could be the dream you've been waiting for. But you don't tell him that.

Being enlightened on your feelings for Sanji becomes a second thought, however, when you’re swamped with work the following week.

“Don’t these people ever get tired?” Chrysanth groans, leaning back on her chair. “Why is planning a festival so hard?”

You approach her desk and place another stack of documents onto it. The numerous piles are getting concerning.

She scowls at the papers, then scowls at you. “Don’t you ever get tired?”

“Of course I do.” You tap a stack of documents to her left. “The guest list for the ball needs to be approved by tonight so we can send invitations out.” She groans again, but picks up the list anyway.

You’re unable to see Sanji as often as you’d like, but you both promised to meet once a week. Even if it’s only for a few short heartbeats together.

You dearly miss him. You think about him as you hand Chrysanth menu plans for the ball. If he saw it, he’d say that he could come up with something better.

She glances at the menu, studying it. Or at least, that’s what you thought she was doing—until her next words proved you wrong.

“So, how are you and that chef doing?”

Your heart isn’t in your chest anymore. It sank down, deep into the depths of the earth. It also must have taken all the air in the room along with it. How did she—

“August?” You blurt out.

Chrysanth shakes her head, “Zeff.” Oh no. Sanji’s boss knows? Does Sanji know that you’re—

“According to Zeff,” She proceeds, cutting off your thoughts. “One of his subordinates has been cooking a lot of personal meals over the last few weeks.”

“I can explain—” But your sister holds up a hand. Your mouth snaps shut.

She calls your name, and then you realize how serious her tone is. “Are you familiar with the kitchen’s rules when it comes to using ingredients and supplies for personal use?”

“...I’m afraid I'm not.” You didn’t know the kitchen had any such rules… but surely Sanji does. Your voice stutters, “I, did—is he in trouble?”

“He isn’t.” She answers, though her expression is still grave. “But I think that you should be aware of how much he’s doing for you.”

Chrysanth opens a drawer to retrieve a list of kitchen rules. Reading it over, everything is standard and straight to the point. You find the answer to your confusion towards the end, a small, nondescript bullet that reads:

All staff must reimburse the cost of all ingredients used for any reason outside of official duties.

“He must know who I am, then.” You say, feeling relieved that he didn’t break some sort of impossible rule. “He wouldn’t have done so much for me if he didn’t.”

Your sister purses her lips, letting the silence linger for a second before responding, “He doesn’t know, love.” She hands you another document. “He’s been paying back every cent out of pocket.”

Tracing over the timestamps and the different ingredients listed, you stare at an outline of your time with Sanji. It’s nice to reminisce, but you can’t help but wince whenever you spot something particularly pricey. What on earth are you to do with this man?

“Zeff recognized your name when he asked Sanji who he was cooking for.” Chrysanth explains. “He didn’t tell him, but he came to me and requested for Sanji to be repaid.”

“Since anything served to me counts as official duties of a royal chef.” You piece together. 

“Exactly.” Chrysanth nods. “However, doing that would expose your title to him. Which is why I wanted to speak to you about this first… You should tell him.”

“I know.” Letting out a deep sigh, you agree. Sanji deserves to know more than anything. Nevertheless, the thought of him changing how he treats you—or worse, leaving—because of your status, frightens you to your core. 

“I’ll talk to him tonight.” You say, but your sister’s expression slowly changes. What did she plan this time?

“Or maybe, you could put the kitchen dates on pause and tell him in a few weeks.” Surprisingly, she hands you an invitation to the ball.

“I can’t bring Sanji as my date.” No matter how much you wish you could.

“Are you sure about that?” Chrysanth is unable to contain her grin. “Open it!”

‘…you are cordially invited to the spring masquerade ball.’

You gasp, “You turned it into a masquerade?”

“Yes, I did. You won’t believe how much convincing it took for the ministers to agree.” She rolls her eyes, but then her smile returns. “Don’t waste my hard work and have fun with your man, littlest sister.”

You laugh, not expecting this outcome after all that. “I love you, even if you made me go through so much emotional turmoil for fun.” She cackles.

“Of course I had to make you sweat after what you put me through.” Chrysanth scoffs, “I can’t believe I had to hear about your love life from Zeff, of all people.”

“Ah,” She says, remembering something. “Speaking of, why’d you guess August first earlier?”

“...”

“...Did you tell him before me?” She gasps. “How could you! Give that invite back!”

“I didn’t think you’d approve.” You admit shyly. “He’s a commoner.”

“If he treats you well—which, he obviously does—I could care less about all that.” Chrysanth reaches for your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Only those stuck up ministers will react negatively, I’m sure. We can deal with them easily enough.”

When she lets you go, she abruptly adds, “He better be cute though.”

That sends you laughing again. “Oh, Chrysanth, he’s the cutest!”

He certainly is. Especially when he sees you and grins, opening his arms wide in expectation. You fall into his embrace when you’re near enough.

Sanji takes your hand and places it on his arm, leading you away from the kitchens.

“Some of the others are still in there planning for the ball.” He explains. “It seems preparations are keeping us both busy.”

Sanji takes you to the greenhouse, which you’ve never seen at night before. Various patches of vegetables and shrubs line the space. There are trees and flowers towards the back too. It feels like a secret hideout, being here with Sanji. 

“I miss spending more time with you, love.” He whispers.

“Me too.” Your heart melts thinking about how much he gave for you. You wish you had the courage to tell him the truth now, while he’s looking at you like you put up the stars in the sky, but you can’t. You’re not ready yet.

Reaching your hands up, you caress his face gently, brushing your thumb across his cheek. He places his hands over yours, keeping them there. 

Sanji closes his eyes to savor the moment, and you let him. You two stay like that, your hands becoming enveloped in so much of Sanji you feel like you could recognize him with your eyes closed, with a single touch.

There’s a certain familiarity to him at this point. You would probably have some difficulty adjusting back to life without him in it. He’s so familiar that you could probably draw him. He makes you want to try.

“...I was just wondering,” You say with a knowing glint in your eye. Does he remember those words when he said them to you that first night? “We’ve been working hard for this ball, wouldn’t it be a shame not to enjoy it together?”

You give him the invitation, and he throws his head back laughing. You send him a confused look, but it all becomes clear when he pulls out an identical invitation from his jacket.

“Ah, how brilliant you are, mamour.” Sanji embraces you again, and you bask in how perfect it feels to tuck your head into the curve of his neck.

“It will be easy to find you even with a mask.” You murmur into his skin. He shivers. “You’re so goddamn tall it’s not fair.”

“I’m not too worried about you finding you, either.” Sanji begins to sway slowly with you still in his arms. It makes your heart skip a beat. You can’t wait to dance with him.

“Are you confident you’ll find me first, then?” You ask, adjusting your hold around his middle to snuggle in better.

“I’m not sure about being first,” He ponders. “But I’ll be sure it’s you when I find you.”

The greenhouse became your new meeting place while the palace was buzzing to prepare for the ball. You could only meet for a few minutes, but you treasured the time you shared just the same. 

Once, Sanji tried to feed you one of the expensive fruits growing there, but you declined, making up an excuse that you were allergic. He had looked at you strangely, but didn’t press you further.

You couldn’t find the time to see Sanji the week of the ball at all. Your time was spent welcoming foreign dignitaries, discussing business and trade. You and your sister had a marvelous time shutting down a marriage proposal from some duke from the north.

It amazes you how much you’ve changed since meeting Sanji. Had the duke asked before you met him, you probably would have considered it seriously. Whereas now, your standard is far too high. The man you choose must be able to get to your heart by cooking you the best food in the kingdom and all the seas. 

You’re glowing by the time you finish getting ready for the masquerade. The dress you chose is in your favorite color, with the skirt twirling dreamily when you turn. 

Chrysanth permitted you to enter the ballroom a few minutes late to avoid a royal entrance. You use the time to compose what you want to say to Sanji when you tell him the truth.

‘I’m a princess, and I think I might love you’, is that a lot to say? You sigh, smoothing your hands over your dress.

The clock on the wall chimes. It’s been fifteen minutes since the ball officially started. You put on your mask, tying the ribbon behind your head to secure it.

After one last glance at yourself in the mirror, you head to the ballroom—looking much more collected than you actually feel.

Maybe you shouldn’t have bragged to Sanji that you would find him easily, because you don’t.

You were mistaken when you thought all you’d had to do was look for a tall, blond man with a blue mask. (Sanji’s mask is surely going to be blue. He wouldn’t consider any other color. You bet your foot on it.) It’s unnerving how many people fit that description tonight.

You even find your brother before you find Sanji. August is dressed in surprisingly simple, all black attire. He looks more like a gentleman than a commander, lacking all those sparkly medals he’s usually required to wear at events.

“Where’s your date?” August asks, ducking his head slightly so that you can hear him over the crowd. “Chrysanth bragged about setting you two up.”

“I haven’t found him yet.” You answer dispiritedly. “I thought it would be easy.” 

August looks around, and you know that if he knew what Sanji looked like, he would be able to track him down in a flash. You’re about to ask what you should do when August suddenly bows, extending a hand to you.

“May I have this dance, fair lady?” He asks in a fake pretentious accent that instantly makes you laugh.

It would be nice to say yes, but you desperately want Sanji to be your first dance. August would understand. 

But you aren’t able to decline, someone else beats you to it.

“I’m afraid her first dance is spoken for.” Sanji’s voice reaches your ears and suddenly the room is brighter than it was.

You almost gasp, elated that he found you. Were it not for that frown on his face, you would have voiced out your joy.

August and Sanji stare each other down. Neither of them say anything, but it’s clear that their first impressions of each other aren’t the most pleasant. Not liking the hostility you’re sensing is building, you tug at Sanji’s hand. 

Your brother’s eyes soften at that, and he bows again, this time to say goodbye. “I’ll see you later then.”

You watch August go, and Sanji grumbles something you don’t catch under his breath. You'll have to properly introduce them at some point, but worrying about their relationship can wait. You really must cheer up this grump who thought he was going to miss your first dance.

“Dance with me, stranger?” Intertwining your fingers together, you smile and take in how handsome he looks. His suit is still black, but there are several accents in dark blue—the same color as his mask.

The deep navy color makes his eyes look almost crystalline, and you recognize why you love him so immensely when he smiles.

“I would be honored.”

Sanji is more graceful than you expected. His movements are controlled and precise, never moving too fast and always making sure you’re falling into step beside him.

He’s proven, once again, that he can surpass your every expectation. Sanji spins you around, catching you by your waist and grinning before sweeping you off your feet again.

By the end of it, you’re left breathless due to far too many reasons, and they all involve him.

You had tried bringing Sanji to a romantic spot; maybe a balcony, or somewhere by a fountain in the gardens—but it seems that a lot of other people had the same idea.

Everywhere was crowded, but you suppose where you ended up is romantic in its own way. With the sky being cloudless tonight, you could see every star twinkling away through the greenhouse’s glass roof. 

Let the stars bear witness to you pouring out your heart to this man.

“Sanji…” You start, mentally preparing yourself.

“Yes, ma chèrie?” Sanji tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, you have his complete attention.

“There are things I must tell you.” You swallow the lump in your throat, not brave enough to look him in the eye yet; though you grip his hands tightly in yours.

Sanji waits. He doesn’t complain that you might be holding onto him too tightly, or nag at you for taking too long to put your words together.

When you finally look up to meet his eyes, you find the strength to breathe it out, “...I’m a princess.”

There’s this moment again, when you hold your breath and wait for his reaction; like when you first told him your name. Suddenly, it feels like you’re in the kitchen eating sandwiches with him again.

And, just as it did back then, his reaction surprises you.

His expression barely changes, the only difference being the barely-there furrow of his brows in concern. 

“I know, love.” He says.

“What?!” You drop his hands in shock. “Since when?”

Sanji blinks. “Since the moment we met.”

“But, I—why did you pay everything back? Why didn’t you ever mention it?”

His eyes widen, “Ah, is that why you wouldn’t eat anything from me these past few weeks? I knew you couldn’t be allergic to pineberries.” 

“Sanji, answer the question.” You pout, and he rubs your arms in an attempt to soothe you.

It’s Sanji’s turn to compose himself, you notice. He looks like he wants for your time together to stay lighthearted, when the thoughts in his mind are far from it.

“You didn’t want to talk about your duties, so I never asked.” Sanji shrugs, but you can see him getting nervous. 

“As for reimbursing the ingredients, I suppose I was worried that… you wouldn’t think of our time together dearly if I was just another chef on your staff.” 

Your heart shudders when he lets out a shaky breath. Oh Sanji.

“But that’s the truth isn’t it? I am, and yet I—” He pauses, eyes searching yours desperately. “If I didn’t pay for it, I would be admitting that a chef was all I’d ever be to you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he cuts you off. “I don’t regret it. I would make the same choice if I had to.” Through the mask, you can see his resolve, but his hands shake as he holds you.

“I didn’t expect to feel this strongly about you.” Sanji continues, “You’re just so lovely, making me feel like I could take on the world for you.”

With your hands quivering the slightest bit, you pull at the ribbon behind your head. Your mask clatters to the floor. Raising your hands towards him, you push his mask up until it’s off, revealing the face of the man who has completely enamoured you; body and soul and all.

You think back to how the colors lit him up beautifully, that one sunset you shared under that blossoming tree. And now, he’s still just as beautiful, in this greenhouse under the moon and the stars. 

You love him all the same as you did then and every moment before. With the weight from keeping secrets gone from your chest, you finally let yourself admit it out loud.

“I love you, Sanji.” You confess. “I’ll go with you, if you’ll take on the world.” You try to say it calmly, but tears build up in your eyes. “You mean so much to me. You’re my dream.”

Sanji inches you closer, wrapping one arm around your waist while his other hand cradles the back of your head. “I love you too. More than you could possibly imagine.”

You quip back at him while wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I have a pretty good idea.”

Sanji leans in the same moment you do, lips meeting in a passionate kiss that sends sparks running through every inch of your being. He pulls you impossibly tighter against him, strong hands caressing your back and holding firm at your waist. Your fingers rake through his hair, touching him to make sure he’s real. He’s here. He loves you. He knew. He always knew.

That night, you realized that your favorite taste from Sanji is his lips on yours. But, once again, he won’t hear you tell him that.

…

Sanji first saw you when a ceremony was held to welcome the new palace staff.

Everyone’s attention had been on your sister, the queen. Understandably so, but his eyes always strayed back to you. You looked gorgeous, wearing a stunning dress perfect for a princess as yourself. A cape draped tastefully down your back. And your crown sparkled brightly under the sun; but try as it might, it couldn’t be as dazzling as you.

Sanji was drawn to you instantly, and he thought he would go on with his life never understanding why.

That is, until you walked into the kitchen at two in the morning to make a sandwich.

It would have been impossible for him to not recognize you. Regular office clothes or not, something was different in the way you carried yourself. It was difficult to miss.

Other people would have thought you appeared mundane. And yet, Sanji found you the most beautiful then.

Because you let yourself smile more when you don't wear your crown. 

But he won’t tell you that.

© togenabi 2023 | see here to be added to my taglist ♡

tags: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @ay0nha @watercolorskyy @holymusicalmothman @appalost

author's note (yes, again)♡— sooo, what do we think about sworn knight!zoro x princess!reader ? 👀

real quick warmup doodle from yesterday

doodle

Here's the variation of this piece . :D

he would 100% have a pink flip phone, maybe even bedazzled