The Gift (Blackleg Sanji x reader)
Word Count: ~850
Could be read as platonic, or as the moment Sanji truly falls in love.
The Going Merry tilted slightly as gentle waves lapped at its hull. You pulled your too-thin jacket in closer around you, but it did little to stave off the chill of the night. Still, you hardly felt the cold, the excitement in your stomach burning too hot.
There was only one person you were looking for, and you knew exactly where he would be. You darted across the deck and carefully began the climb up to the crows nest, your bag thumping against your back with every movement.
As you neared the top, you picked up a faint clicking sound, one that told you Sanji was in the process of lighting up another cigarette.
“Sanji?” you whispered, hoisting yourself into the crows nest.
“Ah, I thought that was you,” the man you’d been looking for said into the stillness of the night. You could almost hear the smile in his voice. He was sitting, huddled under a thick blanket, only his head exposed.
He was already opening up his little blanket fort so you could join him underneath it. You slipped your bag off of your back and slid in beside him. The two of you shifted wordlessly, getting comfortable as if you’d done this hundreds of times. You reached into your bag, grabbing a thermos of hot tea and handed it to him. He took it gratefully, crushing his cigarette on the floor. You’d told him once that you weren’t a fan of the smell, and he’d made it a point to try not to smoke around you, which you were endlessly thankful for.
With your cheek pressed against his arm, he finally asked, “What are you doing up, love?”
“I finished something I’ve been working on and couldn’t wait until morning to show you.” Fighting to contain your grin, you reached into your bag once more, revealing a thick leather journal. It was carefully hand stitched with a thread of his favorite shade of blue.
You offered it to him, trying to hide the way your hands shook. You’d been working on this project for weeks. The thought that he might not like it hadn’t crossed your mind in all that time, but it did now.
He took it, inspecting the cover with near-reverant hands. “What is it?” he asked softly, running a finger down the spine.
“Well, open it!” you laughed.
He did, and as he flipped to the first page, he stilled, utterly and completely.
A few months ago, after a particularly brutal storm, you’d ventured into the kitchen to see if anything needed tending to. Expecting some spilled spices or even some broken glass, you were surprised to find a stack of handwritten notes instead, knocked loose from their spot behind the knife block.
Upon closer inspection, you’d learned that, unbeknownst to the rest of your crew, Sanji had been recording everyone’s likes and dislikes when it came to their food; how Robin enjoyed desserts that weren’t overwhelmingly sweet, how much Nami loved that special tangerine sauce Sanji made for her birthday, how to get Chopper to eat something healthy without alerting him to that fact, how Franky liked his hamburgers medium-rare, how Usopp preferred different fish based on the time of year. Of course, Luffy was fairly easy, only needing some type of meat to be happy, but Sanji had jotted down new ideas for how to cook it. He’d even learned what foods Zoro would eat depending on which type of alcohol he was drinking that day. It was all written on those sheets of paper with meticulous detail.
It was so unequivocally Sanji, proving something that you already knew; somehow, Sanji cared for his crew even more than he let on. He wanted you all to be so comfortable that he’d gone through the trouble of figuring out who liked what.
“My notes…” he started, his voice fragile, thumbing through the pages. “They’re all here?”
You nodded. “Copied word for word.” You reached over, flipping to Nami’s section– marked with a piece of orange ribbon. “I even left extra pages after everyone’s portion so that you can add more.”
Sanji sniffled from beside you, wiping his face with his free hand.
“Do you like it?” you asked, nervous that you’d upset him. Maybe those notes weren’t supposed to be seen by anyone but him. Was he embarrassed?
Tears shimmered in his eyes. “It’s perfect. Truly.” He paused, letting his gaze drop. “But you didn’t have to go through the trouble for me.”
You blinked at him. “Of course, I did. You do so much for us. You deserve nice things, even if you don’t believe that you do.”
He reached over, clasping your hands in his, careful of the journal in his lap. “Thank you,” he said. “Sometimes I forget that…” He shook his head. “Thank you, (y/n). I’m glad you’re part of my crew.”
You couldn’t help the smile that overtook your face, giving his hands a squeeze. “So am I.”
Sanji saw the true value in everyone but himself, so you’d just have to keep reminding him.
