Imagine Being In The Kitchen With Sanji

imagine being in the kitchen with sanji

"What about lobster tartare?"

The newest member of the Straw Hats looked over with a bright, knowing smile. "With my eyes closed."

You leaned forward, elbows on the counter island. Sanji, handsome in his pinstriped button down and tie, laughed when you started rattling out different meal ideas. Each one he promised he could cook with a swag of confidence that intrigued you more than you thought cooking could.

Okay, it wasn't cooking that was intriguing.

But the cook himself.

"Any more ideas? I'd be happy to go over them after dinner...perhaps we could chitchat over some wine?"

Matching his gaze, you shrugged. "I don't like playboys."

Sanji smirked, eyes soft as he placed down the knife in his hand and swiped the kitchen cloth off his shoulder. He cleaned his hands before tucking them into his pockets. His eyes studied you for a brief moment, anticipation heated your veins - you didn't care in that moment that there was a chance he'd ruin you.

"I don't like games. Never have."

He was in.

He knew it, you knew it; and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Reaching over for the grapes he had placed down in a bowl for everyone to snack on, you brought one to your mouth but smiled at the man. "I hate sleeping alone, it gets pretty cold in my bunk."

Sanji looked down shyly at the counter; you could see a hint of blush warm his cheeks but then his expression changed and he looked at you with challenging eyes.

"I think I can help with that, love."

"I think you can too."