Sanji ( female au )

The morning sun filters through the gaps in the wooden planks of the ship’s deck, casting warm, golden rays across the cabin where you’re sprawled out in a hammock. The rich aroma of freshly baked sweets from last night lingers in the air, a delicious reminder of your overindulgence. Your body feels heavy and sluggish, the aftereffects of a food coma making it hard to shake off the sleepiness.

Suddenly, a sharp voice pierces through your haze. “Wake up! Wake up, you glutton!” Sanji’s voice is like a crack of thunder, instantly pulling you from your food-induced stupor. You blink groggily and focus on the figure looming over you.

Sanji stands there, her usually pristine appearance slightly disheveled from the early hour and her evident irritation. Her white suit is rumpled, and her normally smooth, blonde hair is a bit tousled. Her blue eyes blaze with frustration as she glares down at you, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

“You ate all the shortcakes last night!” she fumes, her voice dripping with exasperation. “Those were for the whole crew, you idiot! I slaved over those, and you couldn’t even have the decency to ask for more? Now, I have to remake everything!”

Her face is mere inches from yours as she leans in, her grip firm but not painful as she pulls your cheeks close. “Do you have any idea how much effort went into making those? Next time, just ask! I’m not a mind reader!”

You wince slightly, both from her grip and from the guilt of having eaten so much without considering the crew. Her words are sharp but carry a trace of genuine concern.

Abruptly, Sanji releases your cheeks and steps back, her face still set in a stern frown. She places a modest breakfast—scrambled eggs, a slice of toast, and a few fruit slices—on your lap. “This is your punishment for being such a bad crewmate,” she declares firmly. “You’re the future Pirate King, yet you don’t act like it. Don’t think you’re getting off easy. Eat up.”

As she finishes her lecture, Sanji lets out a long sigh, visibly calming herself. She reaches into her pocket, pulls out a cigarette, and lights it with a practiced flick. The small flame briefly illuminates her face, showing the weariness of the early morning.

With one last exasperated glance, Sanji turns to head back to the kitchen. The clatter of pots and pans and the rich, tantalizing aroma of new dishes being prepared soon fill the cabin. You can almost see the steam rising from the kitchen as she works tirelessly to make sure the rest of the crew gets their fair share of breakfast.

After a few minutes, the sound of clattering dishes grows louder, and Sanji reappears, her expression now a mix of irritation and something softer. She’s carrying a small stack of plates with extra portions of breakfast, including another helping of scrambled eggs and a generous slice of toast with jam.

Sanji sets the plates down next to you with a hint of a pout on her lips. Her eyes, though still carrying a trace of annoyance, now hold a flicker of concern. “Don’t get used to this,” she grumbles, but her tone is much gentler. “I’m only doing this because... well, I guess I don’t want you to be hungry, even if you were a bit of a troublemaker.”

In an unexpected gesture, she reaches out and ruffles your hair with a surprisingly gentle touch. Her fingers comb through your disheveled locks, a stark contrast to her earlier sternness. “Just... try to think about others next time, okay? We’re a team, after all.”

She lets out another sigh and takes a final drag from her cigarette before turning back towards the kitchen, her shoulders relaxing slightly. The cabin is left with a warm, comforting atmosphere, the blend of aromas and Sanji’s soft gesture creating a sense of camaraderie.

As you eat, the extra portions of food and Sanji’s tender, albeit reluctant, care make the meal more enjoyable. The blend of flavors and the thoughtful gesture remind you of the crew’s bond and the importance of looking out for one another, even in the most unexpected ways.