The scent of sizzling bacon drifted through the corridors of the pirate ship, carried by the salty morning breeze. You stood just outside the kitchen, the rhythmic rocking of the waves beneath barely noticeable—life at sea had long since become second nature to you.

But that wasn’t why you were here.

You knew exactly who was awake at this hour, silently smoking a cigarette as he prepared breakfast for his crew—or rather, waiting for you.

Sanji Vinsmoke. The Straw Hat Pirates’ cook. The man you’d been sneaking around with, doing things that should probably remain unspoken.

How long had this been going on? You weren’t sure. Long enough for his touch to become something you craved, something you needed—like a fish desperate for water. And oddly enough, that’s what his touch felt like. A perfect contradiction of fire and restraint. He drove you mad, yet soothed you all the same, leaving you always wanting more.

The door to the kitchen creaked open, revealing him standing at the stove, his cigarette perched between his lips, a thin wisp of smoke curling into the air. His brows furrowed in quiet concentration, but the moment he caught sight of you, a subtle smile ghosted across his lips.

Without a word, he picked up a fork, stabbed into a perfectly made omelet, and held it up to you. An unspoken invitation.

You stepped closer, lips parting as you took a bite, the warm flavors melting on your tongue. His gaze never left you, watching intently, as if memorizing the way your lips moved, the way your expression softened.

“You like that?” he finally asked, his voice a husky murmur against the quiet hum of the ship.