Streams of gentle golden light flit and dance across your eyelids, gradually rousing you from your slumber as you stubbornly turn to bury your face in the pillow beneath you — much too stubborn and sleepy to want to rise quite yet. Though, tragically, the sharp jolt of pain that shoots through your skull at the motion does quite the opposite, forcing you even more awake as you roll onto your back and blink up at the ceiling overhead… which you’re certain shouldn’t be spinning this much.

You blink once to try and clear the sleep from your eyes. Then again to try and stop the nauseating motion of the room around you. And then a third time, half on impulse and half out of desperation, before giving up entirely and bringing your palms up to press down on your eyes, a desperate lazy bid to try and will away the last lingering vestiges of whatever atrocious decisions led you to be this hungover.

But you’re not given much more of a chance to dwell on your own aches and regrets before a voice, deep and rich and lingering in the air like smoke, calls out from beyond the end of the bed. Startling you so severely that you find yourself letting out a sound that’s somewhere between a mouse’s squeak and a crow’s call… before the pain behind your eyes forces you to go still and silent once again.

‘Finally awake, I see.’

The man — or rather men as your vision is swimming so much that you swear there’s currently about three of him, occasionally four, leaning over the frame and smirking at you with more amusement than anyone should — finishes buttoning up his outer coat and, after clearly giving himself a quick once over in the room’s mirror, slowly walks over to your side and places a gloved palm against your forehead. Clearly unbothered, or perhaps even slightly amused, by the way your face scrunches up at the contact before flinching away as fast as your leaded body allowed. ‘And you don’t seem to be too ill, just a bit hungover. Frankly, I’m impressed that you’re only this bad considering how much you were drinking last night.’

As his mildly patronising observations peter off, another voice joins him — this one lilting and loud and theatrical, and sounding off from right beside you with such suddenness that you’re sure you would have volted yourself off of the side of the bed had it not been for the mystery man’s lingering grip on your shoulder… how had you not noticed that before?

‘Oh Bassy, don’t be too mean to her! Our Sleeping Beauty just needed a bit of rest, didn’t you darling?’ The redhead grabs your chin firmly between her thumb and forefinger and gives you a clearly overdramatic pout, before turning her face back towards the man she called Bassy and continuing on like you weren’t even there. ‘And, besides, after what we put her poor human body through last night, can you really blame the poor thing for needing a good lay in?’

The man hums noncommitally and you’re struck with an odd sense of familiarity about the scene — from their voices, to their tone, to the way their hands feel on your skin… and then, through the clinging haze of your hangover, you start to recall flashes of the night before. Of their hands on your body. Of her lips on yours. Of him inside of you. Of heat and spit and cum and… blood?

Skin blazing with embarrassment, and now painfully aware of the fact that you’re completely bare before these two people that you barely know at all and yet also know all to well, you clumsily reach out for the covers to try and cover yourself up. An action that they’re both all too keen to remind you is entirely in vain given just how well acquainted you all became just a few short hours ago… and loathe as you are to give the two patronising figures any sense of grace, as you start to fully piece together the events that unfolded last night you find yourself reluctantly agreeing with them…

— — — — — — — —

The memory comes in pieces at first, all feeling and nothing more: the sharp pain of your back colliding with the sturdy wooden door to the room you’re still in, the uncomfortable chill of deathly pale lips brushing against the curve of your throat, the slow and clumsy grind of unfamiliar hips against your own, the ticklish sensation of sharp nails dragging up your thighs, the sting of unnaturally sharp teeth puncturing the supple flesh of your throat and trailing lower, the warmth of your own blood trickling down your skin and to the floor.

And then, as your focus sharpens, you start to get some fragments of sound: a mirthful giggle against the shell of your ear, the pounding of your own heart that was so loud you could barely make out the words they were saying, a low velvety almost crooning voice whispering against your trembling thighs as the man in black sunk to his knees and hoisted your legs over his shoulders, whining praise and pleas that echoed with startling clarity through your mind even through the thick fog of sleep and alcohol — some words more distinct and complete than others, but all blurted out by the woman in red as she ground her hips desperately against you. Like an animal, all instinct and need and no rhythm to speak of…

— — — — — — — —

You’re suddenly snapped out of the memory by the feeling of hands grasping at your body — both explorative and overly familiar in their touch, leaving your skin burning and your head spinning as you struggled to keep up with the path they took. One, ungloved and cold and shockingly calloused about the fingertips, reached up to stroke the side of your face with a patronisingly soothing motion while the redhead’s other hand snuck lower to toy with your breasts in a way that made your mouth run dry and your cunt ache and pulse. The man, in turn, made quick work of tugging the blankets away from your form to leave you entirely bare to their advances before parting your legs with an unexpected amount of strength and using his dominant hand to skilfully toy with your pussy — alternating between just barely dipping one or two of his long, slender fingers into you, and toying with your sensitive clit, the pattern consistent and soft and maddening in its teasing as the pair continued to tease you.

‘So wet already? My you humans are such easy creatures…’ the man in black mused, his tone low and his eyes never once straying from your most sensitive area. Unwavering in his attention in a way that would surely be unnerving if your head wasn’t already swimming so much.

‘Easy and adorable,’ the woman amends with an almost affectionate kiss to the shell of your ear, her voice playful and low and dipping to an almost purring sound as she continued, ‘and very very lucky that we were the ones who found her. Isn’t that right, darling?’

Instead of giving you the chance to try and form a response of your own, she merely pinched your nipple between two of her fingers and plucked it to force a breathy, gasping moan from your lips. The action is so familiar that you find your mind drifting back once again, eyes going glassy in a way that clearly amuses them both as they chuckle and coo over you.

— — — — — — — —

Now you’re laying on your back on a too-plush bed, the redhead sat primly behind you and grinding her clothed cock against the curve of your ass while the man made quick work of ridding you of your clothes — deftly removing every layer with a speed you hardly believed possible until you’re left completely bare and vulnerable between them. Faintly, distantly, you’re aware of an uncomfortable dampness clinging to your inner thighs, but before you get the chance to linger on the feeling the two pounce on you once more.

The woman — Grelle, as you now recall her name to be — focused most of her attention on your upper half, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s all drunken passion and teeth while her hands wander teasing, temptingly, across every dip and curve that your body has to over. Occasionally stopping to experimentally grope, pinch, massage, caress, or mischievously scratch at one area or another before moving on to memorise yet another new millimetre of your form — still taking the time to linger and pay particular attention to the areas and motions that got the greatest reaction out of you, all the while grinning impishly into your mouth and greedily swallowing every moan and gasp and whimper and cuss that you let out.

Sebastian, the butler, meanwhile focuses on toying with your cunt, utilising those sinfully skilled fingers and that devilishly talented tongue to break you down in all the right ways. One moment scissoring and crooking two long fingers into your gushing hole while sucking masterfully on your clit, and the next fucking your dumb with his tongue while massaging your clit between his thumb and finger, all the while using just the right angles and pressure and pace to leave your vision white, your legs trembling, and your lungs sputtering helplessly in your chest. Filling and devouring you in a single motion that leaves you drunk on both alcohol and pleasure, and unable to stop yourself from clawing at his hair and Grelle’s shoulders and making all sorts of debauched sounds you’d never dream of letting out while sober.

And between the two of them you’re left helpless and stuffed and overstimulated in all the right ways.

— — — — — — — —

All at once you feel Sebastian’s fingers slide into you up to the knuckle, crooking in and upwards towards your g-spot with a familiarity and accuracy that has your hips canting upwards and your breath catching in your throat. Tearing you out of the memory and grounding you again in the present as the woman behind you coos patronisingly at you.

‘Still so reactive… how adorable,’

The man between your thighs hums his agreement against your clit and you curse beneath your breath, the words slurred and thick with the last vestiges of sleep that you still haven’t quite managed to shake despite their overwhelming attention. And, of course, that response only makes the two that much more amused as they rough you up even more — treatment that you can’t even form the words to complain about under the white hot weight of your building orgasm and the intoxicating sounds of the woman behind you as she uses your body to chase her own orgasm, clearly spurred on by the view in front of her in a way that leaves you feeling unbearably flustered.

One of her hands falls down from your chest to grasp at your waist, holding you in place as she grinds her cock up against your ass in a stuttering, jerking, clumsy pace — her movements clearly strained and struggling, and only made possible by the beads of precum leaking from her tip and lubricating her length as she rubs herself dumb against you — and you can feel, and hear, as her breathing starts to get faster and shallower as she starts to approach her own climax, the sounds of her shaky pitch gasps only broken up by the occasional startlingly loud moan that sends yet another bolt of near-overstimulating heat straight to your pulsing core.

Sebastian’s pace, meanwhile, remains wholly unaffected by the utterly debauched display of desperation happening behind and against you as he focuses entirely on the task at hand: fucking you stupid with his mouth and fingers. His movements border on a clinical degree of precision, even, as he manages to angle his wrist and crook his fingers at just the right point to ensure he hits your g-spot with every slow, deep thrust into you. Hell, even the mind-blanking pressure of his mouth on your clit hasn’t been at all affected by how much you’ve been squirming and keening and twitching beneath him, a feat that you might have thought impossible or shocking if you had the presence of mind left to question such a thing…

Then with a pitchy, whimpering moan and a splatter of warmth against the curve of your ass that you’re just barely able to process as being there, Grelle finishes and you find yourself sent back once again to last night.

— — — — — — — —

You’re on your hands and knees now, stuffed full from both sides and only held upright by the trembling hands of Grelle grasping at your bruising hips… and the steadying, domineering grip that Sebastian has on your throat — one handed and unrelenting in a way that would certainly feel threatening if you weren’t so far gone. Your eyes full of tears and you can barely breathe over the weight of his cock as he fucks your throat raw, and yet through the haze of alcohol and the tightening coil of pleasure in your lower abdomen you’re distantly certain that you’ve never felt better than you feel right now. Right here. Like you were made to be sandwiched between the two nonhumans and used like this.

There’s spit leaking out of the sides of your mouth and pooling on the sheets beneath you, tears spilling from your eyes, and pre-cum dribbling down your throat, and every thrust of Grelle’s cock in and out of your aching cunt pushes more of your cum and hers out and down your trembling thighs. Yet, despite how much of a sweaty, drooling, cum covered mess you know you must be right now, with all of their attention focused on you you’ve never felt quite so beautiful. So wanted. So needed. And as you feel your third orgasm of the night wash over your quaking body, you find yourself distantly, and only somewhat coherently, wishing that this night could go on forever.

— — — — — — — —

As that last portion of the memory finally fades away, you’re sent spiralling over the edge of climax, spurred on by Sebastian’s devilishly talented tongue, Grelle’s whining praise, and the lingering, buzzing warmth of last night. Your vision whites out, your limbs go limp, your breath stutters and catches in your throat, and you damn near squirt all over his hand from the force of the orgasm that washes over you — and with what fading awareness you have of the world around you, you can distantly hear the two cooing and mocking and praising you for falling apart so easily and willingly for them again… a sound that only makes you hotter, and wetter, and weaker in all the right ways.

The damned thing was an aphrodisiac, a kind of strange stimulant that you’d never encountered before. Once you’d finally found an entry on it amidst the pages of your botanical reference books, your stomach dropped with dread. You’d had the plant aboard the ship for days, though thankfully it had been secluded to the closet serving as your sad excuse for a room - you were cramped in there with your books and tools and that stupid flower, none the wiser to what it was slowly doing to you.

You’d been exposed to its pollen for days, breathing it into your lungs as you pondered over it, touching the delicate petals and coming away with soft grain on your fingertips. At least you weren’t dumb enough to have ever thought about consuming any part of the plant - that would have made things truly unbearable, as you’d come to learn that that was the fastest means for its reactions to take hold.

At first, you thought maybe the flower wouldn’t have any effect on you, considering that you hadn’t felt any different in those days isolated with it. And even once you’d found another entry in your encyclopedia detailing its slow burn results, you thought that perhaps you’d incorrectly assessed it, again because you felt nothing.

But after three days around the thing you felt… something. A twisting in your stomach, a heat stoking at your core. You tried to ignore it as the day went on, but with each passing minute you could feel something taking over - Usopp’s smile made you antsy and nervous, Nami’s pretty legs crossing one over the other shot desire through you like lightning. Shit, you had no business getting all worked up about your friends like that, but it was simply out of your control.

And it only got worse when Sanji tried his usually fruitless flirty tactics, lingering close enough that you could smell his enticing musk, his suddenly silky voice forcing you to clench your legs. Once that happened, you all but booked it away from everyone else and locked yourself up, only leaving your room to chuck the offensive flower overboard in a panic. There was no way you’d risk keeping it here even a second longer, because just your luck the pollen could somehow get to the rest of the crew, too.

You’d already been cooped up in your room for an entire day, feigning illness. Everyone had stopped bothering you after you practically screamed at them to get the hell away from you. Save for Sanji, annoyingly, who simply couldn’t help but check in on you regularly, offering food and drink and even company.

Sanji had probably done so a dozen times before you couldn’t take it anymore.

You caved to your impulses, throwing open your door and yanking him inside abruptly. You pinned him against the door, hands twisted in the front of his jacket, eyes crazed as you looked into his face. You could feel his body heat, could smell him overwhelmingly. Sanji - blissfully unaware of the state you were in - looked far too pleased to be pressed between you and the door, eyes gleaming and grin cheeky.

You loathed to tell him what was going on - you didn’t want any of your fellow Straw Hats to know about this embarrassing predicament you’d landed yourself in. The plan was to stay locked up until it passed, but Sanji just wouldn’t leave you alone.

“Look asshole,” You spoke through your teeth, body clenching at that stupid smile on his face, a wave of heat washing through you, “there’s… an issue and it’d be better if you stopped bothering me.”

“An issue?” Shit, was his voice always that hot? Despite the twisting in your belly, your glower darkened in an attempt to dampen this ridiculous pining.

Frustratingly, his wolfish grin grew larger, and with a sharp intake of breath, you dropped your gaze before you could do something bad, “Yes, an issue, and it’s not your business, so go away.”

“You don’t look so good,” Sanji began, tone sultry - or was that just in your head? As if he was testing your limits, he lifted the back of his hand to your forehead, and you all but jumped with a gasp, “God, you’re on fire. Maybe a little tea to make you feel better?”

“No.” You relinquished your grip on his jacket, needing as much distance between you two as possible, though this damn room was so cramped it wasn’t nearly enough. Sanji looked you up and down curiously, and even that had the unfortunate effect of causing desire to pool white hot inside you.

“Soup?” He offered in a taunting voice, evidently finding your current state amusing, not realizing the enormity of it. His brow furrowed some as he moved towards you, to which you pointed in harsh warning.

“Sanji, just go.” You insisted, trying to resist your urge to jump his bones, to drag him back towards you without restraint.

Though still grinning impishly, he held his hands up in surrender, and, shit, that look on his face dared to make you wet, “I don’t like seeing your beautiful self unwell like this, I’m just trying to take care of you.”

Unexpectedly, you moaned at Sanji’s words; his flirtatious remarks had never worked on you before, and you so wished you’d had more control than this.

Your illicit sound caused both your eyes and Sanji’s to widen, and shamefully you tried to step back, but your legs bumped your mattress, meaning you had nowhere to run as you looked about yourself in a panic.

Though there was uncertainty in his gaze, Sanji’s eyes still gleamed with mirth, he still smirked with playful intent. He gave you another slow once over, eyes crawling the length of your body; you had to press your lips tightly together to hold back any more noises that dared to come out of you, your thighs clamping stiffly.

When his gaze eventually trailed back up to meet yours, you clenched your hands, nails digging into your palms, feeling tense all over with how desperate you were for some kind of release. There was something salacious about Sanji’s stare - you could no longer tell if it was real or your imagination. As if he could sense the effect he was having on you, he grinned wickedly.

“If you do need anything,” he started, voice so much more appealing than it had any right to be. He took a careful step towards you, looking between your eyes intently, “you know where to find me.”

A small whine caught in your throat, and you prayed it was quiet enough to be imperceptible. You had to drop your gaze, feeling utterly flushed with heat. But your luck had already run out for the day, because Sanji dipped his head some, and you caught that alluring musk of him again, making you stir.

“What is going on with you?” He teased before stepping back. He turned, hand twisting the door knob when you abruptly blurted out.

“That stupid flower did something to me!” Your words came out fast, slurring together; you weren’t sure what came over you to babble without a thought, but the pollen had seriously dampened your impulse control.

Sanji stopped and quickly spun back towards you. No longer was his expression flirtatious; instead, his brow knotted in concern, his hands grasping your shoulders before you even had the chance to stall him. You took a sharp breath, heat coursing deep in your center and head flustered from his touch.

“What do you mean? Are you okay?” Sanji’s worried tone just made you crave him even more, his instinct to take care of you way too enticing right now; fuck, when would this pass?

“I’m fine,” You squeaked out, thighs rubbing together desperately, “It's just…”

“It’s what?” With a focused look, Sanji felt your forehead again, then pressed his hand gently to your cheek, “You really are on fire, love, maybe we need--”

Again, your words spilled out like a tsunami, “I need you to stop touching me or I’m going to lose it!”

But Sanji didn’t move, so taken aback that he wasn’t sure what to do with you. His expression twisted that little bit more, driving you insane.

“Sorry, what?”

“The plant!” You grabbed his wrists, sure that you must look like a crazed woman right about now. You tried to push Sanji away, but he stood firm, “The pollen was an aphrodisiac and I’ve been unintentionally dosing myself with it for days! So, please Sanji, I feel like I’m about to burst and it's already embarrassing enough that I told you, so go!”

Sanji showed about a hundred emotions in the span of only a few seconds - worry, confusion, understanding, confusion again, until ultimately landing on that dreaded, impish inquisitiveness of his. You could see the exact moment it all clicked, that gleam of delight at your expense, that relishing curiosity. You practically threw his wrists away when you realized that you were still clutching them, groaning deeply with frustration.

Oh, how you loathed the glee in Sanji’s expression; you’d try to slap it away, except you feared doing so would just make you wetter than you already were. As he looked you over again with that trademark grin, you clenched your legs again, toes curling.

“Aphrodisiac?” Was he taunting you? “So that means--”

“Yes, it means I’m horny, okay!?” You hated how feral and aggressive you sounded, hated the way your attitude only seemed to bring him greater entertainment. With a dramatic, vulgar sigh, you dragged your hands down your face, turning away; when your shoulder bumped Sanji’s in your retreat, you jolted with a gasp.

“Well, isn’t that something?” God, he was enjoying this far too much.

“Sanji--!”

“Wait, wait.” He insisted. You closed your eyes, trying to take a soothing breath, but your body just wouldn’t calm down, the desire burning inside you only grew hotter now that he was in on your secret, “How long is this going to last?”

“I really don’t feel like talking about it right now!”

“I’m only asking--” You cut him off with a mean groan, whipping back around to glare at him. Once more, he held up his hands, but the shit-eating grin on his face was enough to make you throb. He waited a beat before trying again, licking his lips far too sinfully for your liking, “Maybe… I can help?”

“Oh my god.” You whined, your body yearning in spite of your better judgement, his suggestion making your pussy clench with the need to be touched. Foolishly, you met his eyes, which only did the job of making you want to throw yourself at him, “Sanji, don’t be stupid--”

“Is it stupid?” He insisted, stepping into your personal space again, your head dizzy with yearning. He ducked his head, eyes staring into yours earnestly, a look not quite like his usual coy ones, “Because, look, would I enjoy a little romp with you? Obviously.” You mewled smally, to which surprise briefly flashed across Sanji’s face, “So, if you think it might help, then by all means, just say so.”

You bit down hard on the inside of your cheek, trying to keep your desire in check, because you feared that you could burst any second now. Though you tried desperately to look mean and glaring, you felt far from intimidating; if that wanton look on Sanji’s face was anything to go by, then you failed miserably.

You wished that you wanted to say no. Oh, that would be so much better than agreeing to Sanji’s offer, because doing something like that with your crewmate - your friend - sounded like it would open up a whole new kind of trouble. But just the idea of it made you squirm, made your body coil like a spring; even just a moment’s thought about the things you could do made your eyes flutter.

You knew better than to go along with it. You weren’t so far gone that you couldn’t think, after all - you knew this could be bad. Unfortunately, the pollen had other ideas.

“No one can know.” You bite, body clenching again.

Sanji shrugged agreeably, playing it casually, “Of course.”

“And it won’t happen again.”

“Sure.”

“… Okay.”

“Okay.”

You stared at each other for a long beat, your chest heaving, Sanji’s eyes hooded as he shamelessly took in your expression.

God, you hoped you wouldn’t regret this.

The space between you was small already, the warmth of his breath across your cheeks causing you to shudder; the corner of his mouth quirked up in response, finally sending you over the edge.

You flung yourself at Sanji like a woman starved, winding your arms around his neck, bodies crashing together ungracefully. He was so damn sturdy, barely stumbling back as your lips feverishly met, teeth clumsily clashing. His arms wrapped around your middle, hands firmly gripping your back, fingers flexing possessively.

The moan that escaped you was downright sinful, your heart pounding rapidly inside your chest, body like static beneath Sanji’s exploratory touch. Fuck, you couldn’t tell if this was helping or hurting, your core hot and cunt pulsing, your jumping under his tender fingertips. It was pathetic the way you clung to him like a lifeline, bodies flush and mouths brazen.

As your fingers tangled in Sanji’s hair, a groan rumbled in his chest that made you frenzied, your kisses growing sloppier, tongue snaking between his lips. God, his taste was intoxicating, his tongue twining with yours, his hands unyielding nonetheless gentle as he groped at your body. Rolling your hips against his, you made yourself whimper at the feel of his firm chest, his pelvis pressing to yours.

Maybe you should have done this sooner.

Determined not to break from Sanji’s luscious lips just yet, you blindly spun the two of you around, his calves bumping the bed. Understanding what you wanted, he gripped you tightly while dropping down atop the mattress, drawing you into his lap as you moaned again.

Mouths heatedly pressed together, you shifted to better straddle Sanji’s fit legs, his cock twitching near your center. If your head wasn’t already spinning you may have been embarrassed by how wet you were, soaking through your panties.

Sanji’s hands wandered, squeezing your ass hard enough to make you gasp, using his grip to grind your hips down against his. You tugged roughly at his hair as you moved together, rutting back and forth along his growing length, clenching with the need to be filled.

Your mouths were greedy, tongues feverish, kissing as if desperate for one another’s air, noisy sounds of pleasure humming in both your throats. Sanji’s hips bucked just right beneath you, meeting you in time with the deep grind of your hot pussy.

When finally he broke from the kiss, a string of drool connected your lips, a whine sounding from your throat. Keeping up his slow, steady rhythm, Sanji met your eyes darkly, drinking you in with utter desire; you damn near came just from that look alone.

“However you want me,” he whispered against your lips, noses brushing, breath mingling. Your hips stuttered, to which he greedily grasped your ass and matched your rhythms again, “Yours to do with as you please.”

“Fuck--” You couldn’t help but gasp, feeling impossibly more turned on. You almost hated him for how damn effortlessly those sultry words came to him, grinding your hips roughly against his cock, delighting in the way his eyes momentarily crossed, “Promise?”

A short, lustful laugh escaped Sanji, his fingers groping you nice and tight, “Like this, love, I’d promise you anything.”

Another desirous sound whined in your throat as you captured his lips in a searing kiss, fire scorching bright inside you. Hips rutting rapaciously, your hands wandered down his neck and torso, shoving at his jacket as if it personally offended you. Urgently, Sanji threw it off before he grasped at you again, not wanting to lose a moment of exploring your body.

The flex of his muscles beneath your hands was maddening, taut and strong and just asking to be bit and kissed. You frantically worked the buttons of his shirt, nearly popping them as you worked your way down, down, down till the damned thing was open. Your fingers slid along Sanji’s washboard abs, causing you to groan because, fuck, this was the body he’d kept covered up all this time?

As if you couldn’t trust your touch, you split from Sanji’s lips to lean back and drink in the sight of his body, hissing desirously at how damn good he looked. Your nails scratched up his sides, over his pecs and abs, and when your lustful eyes turned back towards his, you practically keened at the focused way he was watching you.

Holding eye contact, you leaned down to nip at his chest, causing him to yelp; your body tightened as you giggled hungrily, mouth trailing up his collarbone and neck, kissing just below his jaw. Sanji leaned his head back as he twitched between your legs, letting you ravage his skin, biting and sucking and kissing to your hearts content, hickeys or teeth marks be damned.

As you all but consumed him, Sanji’s hands slid up the back of your shirt, palms hot as he traced your skin, arching into his touch. Both of your hips had fallen out of rhythm, and so Sanji reached up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you away so he could meet your eyes again.

“Let me touch you.” It sounded like both a question and an instruction, your cunt tight with utter desire. You nodded, catching your breath, and then Sanji abruptly flipped you onto your back.

Splayed on the bed, you ogled as Sanji brushed back his hair and dropped his shirt to the floor. You bit your lip, eyes hooded as he crawled over you; he pressed a single, dizzying kiss to your mouth, pulling back before you could latch onto him again.

As if understanding your urgency to be touched, Sanji’s hands reached beneath your shirt again, yanking it over your head speedily, exposing your hot skin to the cool air before he did the same thing with your shorts. You wiggled under his wandering gaze, drinking in every curve and blemish of your body like you were a three-course meal.

He lowered his mouth to your chest, biting your breast as you had done to him earlier; you bucked and gasped, feeling his smile against you. He sucked at your skin, insistently creating a hickey just above your bra, meanwhile reaching between your warm bodies, fingertips grazing over your pelvis, to which you whined.

Sanji sighed longingly as his hand moved lower and lower, teasing at you through your thin, damp panties; you clenched with a wanton mewl, desperate for so much more of him. Kissing far too tenderly over the hickey he left behind, his mouth trailed down, tongue gliding a wet trail along your stomach, ghosting along the flimsy fabric keeping him from you. For a moment, you held your breath, hands eagerly twisting in the bedsheets.

Hooking his fingers in your panties, Sanji tugged them down to your ankles, his hot breath teasing near your clit as you shucked the undergarment away with a wiggle of your foot.

He lingered painstakingly, and you looked down your nose at him, brow knotted with impatience, mouth agape as you sucked in  a breath of air. His eyes were large and black with lust as he, too, glanced back towards you, expression both sweet yet taunting. You were tempted to reach out and grab his hair, to guide him towards you, but even in this fervor you managed to refrain, though you weren’t sure how long that flimsy self control would last.

“Look at you…” He sounded awestruck, and the lust in his tone made longing swirl tight around your heat, toes curling.

Now, you did reach out, fingers weaving into his hair a little more roughly than intended; it felt as if you had less control the more your desire continued to stew.

“Sanji, please.” You whispered keenly. The sound of his name on your lips like that stirred something deep in him, his gaze dark and craving, “I… shit, I need you.”

He grinned wickedly, though even the taunting in his tone was flirtatious, “About to come undone already?”

You nodded, eyes pleading, “I’m like a fucking cat in heat.”

Sanji chuckled, breathing hot against your clit, causing you to twitch, “Oh, love, I’ve got you.”

And with that, he plunged a finger inside you without warning, a surprised mewl leaping from your lips as you threw your head back. God, there was no way in hell that alone could feel so good, and yet your eyes crossed, hand flexing in Sanji’s hair. He, too, groaned at the feel of you as if utterly enthralled.

Under his breath, he groaned faintly; you were so wet, clenching around his finger, making his cock twitch in his trousers. He pumped once, twice, before sliding a second digit between your slick folds with ease, wasting no time or teasing; your body was so utterly ready for him that it was intoxicating.

The pace of his thrusts steadily picked up, your hips rolling with his movements, gasps escaping your parted lips. Your head lulled, swimming with lust as your body pulsed around him, limbs twisting pleasurably.

Fingering you greedily, the scent of your desire hit Sanji, his hips bucking against your leg in need of friction.You felt nearly pathetic, the way you rocked against his hand, the way you writhed with moaning satisfaction. Even his heavy breathing, hot on your inner thigh, sent burning waves up your spine; and when he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, you fucking shuddered.

God, you thought this would help, but Sanji’s fingers buried inside your cunt only seemed to make you wetter and needier, as if nothing would be enough to satiate you. And when he spread his fingers wide, stretching you out deliciously, you cursed that damned plant, even as pleasured whines slipped past your lips.

As he fingered you nice and deep, Sanji’s mouth trailed hot, wet kisses along the inside of your leg, sighing contently at the taste of your salty skin on his tongue. His fingers hooked, curving up into your cervix, palm steadily massaging your clit as you keened unabashedly, toes curling and knees shaking, yanking roughly at his hair. With a hiss, he bit your flesh, not hard enough to break skin, but enough to surprise you, your hips bucking again.

“Fu-uck--!” You whined, his hand unrelenting as your eyes crossed, orgasm washing over you with a surge. For that split second, it was utter bliss, vision starry and limbs melting; but like some cruel joke, your body almost immediately grew tense and tight and desperately unfulfilled again.

That stupid plant.

You tugged encouragingly at Sanji’s hair, meeting his gaze over the swell of your heaving breasts - he was still knuckles deep inside you, eyes blown and an enthralled grin on his lips. You caught your breath, pussy clamping around his fingers, causing him to moan deep inside his chest; your body shook from the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I need more,” You instructed breathily, more like a plea than anything else. You felt as if your body was crawling, causing shakes and pulses, a twisting heat growing so big inside you that it hurt. Oh, that small bit of logic still within you was embarrassed at the way you were practically begging Sanji, needing him to make you feel good.

“My pleasure…” He said huskily, immediately tossing all of your embarrassment out the window because, fuck, he was so hot right now, making you feel so good, taking care of you like this--

Then his mouth was on your clit in the next instant, and you could have fucking burst right then and there. Your hips bucked up against his warm tongue, Sanji using his free hand to keep you down, fingers flexing in the fat of your thigh. A contented hum vibrated in his throat and your pussy, making your knees quake.

Bursts of pleasure pulsed through you as Sanji sucked your clit, his fingers continuing their wanton pumping, slower and deeper than before, pressing delectably against your cervix again now that he realized just how frenzied it made you. Your hand twisted in his hair, pulling eagerly as your hips rocked against his mouth, eyes rolling back with sinful mewls. Fuck, his tongue was goddamn perfect, swirling where you were most sensitive, lapping from pussy to clit, teasing as he slowly pulled his fingers from you before plunging back in.

Your legs were already shaking again, buzzing with satisfaction; Sanji groaned deeply at the sweet taste of you, and your knees nearly clamped around his head with a gasp.

His fingers stopped pumping, pulling out of you so he could ravage your pussy with his mouth instead. You jolted as his tongue dove between your folds, his hands tightly grabbing your legs to keep you still.

You threw your head back, drool pooling on your tongue as you rode against Sanji’s mouth, tugging his hair harshly, struggling to keep your legs spread for him. He consumed you like a man starved, licking along the strip of your cunt, diving into you, nipping your clit. Every single touch was like electricity shooting through your veins, body twitching and jumping, at the will of Sanji’s touch.

His tongue was feverish, growing sloppier and more insistent, fucking in and out of you, his own hungry sounds driving you crazy. Your body felt out of your control as you writhed, legs shaky in Sanji’s hands, hips stuttering with each lap of his tongue, fingers twisting tightly in his hair.

“Fuck, please, please--!” You muttered a nearly incoherent mantra as your hips rolled greedily, hands tugging harshly at his scalp. Sanji knew exactly what he was doing to you, mouth gaining urgency, causing your legs to nearly clasp around him again; but still, he kept them wide open in his grip. The titillation was practically unbearable as you wiggled beneath him, crying with delight, quaking as your vision went black with another earth shattering orgasm.

As you came, eyes crossed and expletives escaping you, Sanji continued his ravaging, eating you out as if he couldn’t get enough of your taste. The stimulation was nearly overwhelming, whining high in your throat, hands yanking at his hair again and again because you felt so damn good that it nearly hurt.

He finally relented, coming up for a gasp of air. His lips were shiny with your slick as he grinned wickedly, delighting in your blissed out expression while crawling up your body.

Catching your breath, that scorching heat reignited like an unscratchable itch, causing you to groan desperately in Sanji’s face. He chuckled, an enticing rumble in his chest that made your body ache for him. You could smell your fragrance on his mouth as he hovered over you, arms braced either side of your head as your noses brushed.

“You alright, love?” He spoke against your lips, the taste of yourself drawing another hum from inside you.

You wound your arms tight around Sanji’s neck, catching his lips in an impassioned, feverish kiss. Hooking your ankles around the back of his legs, you drew his body atop yours, rolling your hips against his straining erection and causing him to grunt. Your tongue snaked past his lips, tasting yourself everywhere.

As you rubbed your body with his, Sanji’s hand cupped your jaw with a surprising tenderness. There was something almost romantic about it, and you found that thought so intimidating that you abruptly broke away from the kiss, darkened eyes finding his urgently.

You ached again, the lustful needs of your body feeling like a drug high, pussy still wet and desperate, an ache coiling greedily within you. Sanji’s dick teased you through his trousers, and you ground against it insistently.

“Sanji,” the way you whined out his name caused his cock to twitch, both of you gasping with hunger. Normally, you wouldn’t speak so plainly, but considering you weren’t exactly in your right mind, the words just spilled out of you, “It’s getting worse.” When he raised his brow, you elaborated while slowly grinding against him, “Everytime I come, I need more.”

Sanji’s jaw hung slack, enjoying the way you moved against him, enraptured by your unrestrained ache for him. His voice was low and erotic against your lips, “I told you to use me, didn’t I?”

You whined again desperately. Even as you burned for him, you managed to taunt, “Confident you can keep up?”

But even that quip conjured thoughts of all the ways he could make your body feel good, and your legs flexed hungrily around him. If you weren’t so high with need, you would have glowered at that dangerous look he gave you, but unfortunately, it just made you want him more.

“For you? Oh, I could do this all day.”

You tightened like a spring, a desperate moan in your throat as you clumsily began to fumble with Sanji’s trousers, practically ripping them off in your haste. For a moment, the two of you were an awkward tangle of limbs as he shoved out of the remainder of his clothing, skin hot and sweaty to the touch, dick grazing along your stomach and pelvis as you grew hungrier for him. Your nails raked along every bit of skin you could reach, dragging along his abs and waist, trailing down his back to the curve of his ass, where you dug in just a little.

Sanji propped himself up on his hands, drinking in the sight of you as you ripped off your bra, the final offensive article of clothing flung away blindly. You took the opportunity to cast your gaze down between you, licking your lips as you eyed Sanji’s cock, red and swollen and just right.

God, you couldn’t believe that you’d just written him off this entire time, that all this time you ignored this striking man with his wicked smile and sultry eyes, his goddamn perfect physique and--

“Droolin’, love?” He teased, drawing your eyes back up. Yes you wanted him deep inside you, you wanted to take all of him; but you weren’t so foggy with desire that you couldn’t taunt him back.

“Are you?” You ask with a jeering curve of your brow. Impulsively, you opened your mouth good and wide, sticking your tongue out flat with a look of anticipation.

Sanji let out a long breath at the sight of you like this, his eyes growing dark as he grasped your jaw. Much as you would have enjoyed him to be rougher and more domineering, it wasn’t quite in his nature; no, his grip was firm yet careful, finger and thumb squeezing your cheeks as he drew you up to meet him halfway. Without breaking eye contact, he spit into your open mouth, your body shivering, surprised that he followed through with it. You swallowed with a cheeky, flirtatious smirk.

“Fuck…” Sanji muttered, dragging you up for a brief, searing kiss. You grabbed at his hips, nails digging into his skin, growing impatient for him to make you feel good again. His lips broke from yours, pressing your foreheads together, “How do you want me?”

The question alone made you whine, cunt clenching. The instruction left your mouth before you had time to think about it, “On your back.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Sanji grinned, one arm wrapping around your middle and hastily swapping places with you, sheets tangling as you nearly fell off the edge of the narrow bed.

Your head was swimming with need now that you were on hand and knee over Sanji, so hungry for him that you wasted no time ogling his body or nipping at his skin the way you normally would with a lover. No, you were desperately wet, and you needed him inside you now or else you may lose it.

You felt like an animal, the way you situated yourself over Sanji, reaching between you to give his hard cock a single pump in your hand before guiding him to your entrance.

Staring into one another’s eyes, you sat back on his dick in one slick motion, taking him to the hilt as you both groaned shamelessly, his thighs flexing beneath your ass. You lingered for a moment, cunt pulsing around him, Sanji’s hands gripping your hips, chests heaving. And as if he lit the fire inside you, you began to bounce up and down the length of his shaft.

“My god…” He growled, eyes back and fingers squeezing your hips as you bobbed on his dick, so goddamn slick and wet, bracing your hands atop his sturdy chest. He filled you so well, thick head pushing into you with each drop, sliding between your walls like he was meant to be there.

Oh, being on top was a bad idea, you realized as your eyes crossed, your neediness making you sloppy as you rolled your hips, your bouncing rhythmless as you chased your high. But it felt so good, every damn part of you, the fullness of Sanji’s cock making you dizzy, the way he stretched you out, the way he held onto you almost possessively. Shit, you couldn’t tell what felt best because you were so sensitive, going wild for how deep he reached, for the way his head caught inside you because he couldn’t pull out at this angle, the bit of pressure against your clit each time you moved.

You leaned back, steadying your palms just above Sanji’s knees, the shift causing his dick to meet your cervix, your head lulling back with a cry. You ground your hips in an eager, hectic pattern, clenching and whining at how full you were, gasping as Sanji bucked up into you to get that little bit deeper.

Shit, you were too horny and wet, that damned pollen making you feel like you were on the verge again, every minuscule movement felt good enough to make you cum already. And you knew you would, over and over again, Sanji’s cock fitting like a glove, thrusting against your sensitive clit, filling you to the brim--

“Fucking made for me--” You whimper like a woman possessed as you cum suddenly, abruptly, overwhelmingly. Your nails dug into Sanji’s thighs, body going rigid as you stared up at the ceiling. He twitched inside you, the both of you moaning together at the sensation. If you had the wherewithal, you would have been embarrassed by the thing you blurted out, by the fact that you came so fast again, but already desire was winding back through your body with no end in sight.

“Another one already, love?” Sanji whispered with a mystified grin, lazily rocking his hips with yours, hands trailing up to grope your waist and breasts. All you could do was hum with satisfaction, back arching as he tweaked your nipples. He gave a particularly deep, calculated thrust into you, delighting in the way you mewled, “Ah, but you’re not done yet.”

“Not even close.” You challenged, even as your voice wavered.

Sanji squeezed your breasts firmly, urging you to lean down towards him; he kissed you chastely before dipping his head, your back arching as his tongue swirled one of your peaked nipples.

As he bit and sucked at your breast, his hand massaged your other; his hips slowly began to thrust up into you again. Whimpers spilled past your lips over and over, Sanji’s cock hitting you a little harder each time, his tongue and teeth on your nipple causing your head to spin.

His hands trailed down to grab your ass while his mouth continued ravaging you, giving one cheek a firm slap before pressing you down on his cock. You were so hungry for him, needing more even with him balls deep, needing him like fresh water.

Sanji sucked a dark hickey on the inside of your breast, lips popping as he broke away from your skin. When he looked up at you through his lashes, you cupped his jaw and kissed him earnestly, which was far too intimate considering that this wasn’t supposed to mean anything. The thrust of his hips faltered for a moment, as if he, too, realized the warmth of it, but he quickly sped up his rhythm as if to compensate, skin slapping skin as you groaned into one another’s mouths.

When you gasped for air, you kept your forehead to Sanji’s, the angle of his pelvis rubbing against your clit making you clench and shake. His breath was hot on your lips as his cock drove into you, hand slapping your ass again just to hear you whine.

“I ne-eed--” Your voice hitched, his dick burying particularly good into you, “--need deeper.”

Sanji huffed out an ensnared laugh, thrusting inside you then lingering there. He rolled you against him, captivated by the way your pussy tightened around him, “Deeper?”

You bit down on your lip as he taunted you, grinding your hips together, “Mhm…”

Sanji’s nose grazed along your cheek and down your neck, mouth ghosting along your skin as he spoke lowly, “In that case: up.”

He stopped grinding, spanking your ass again encouragingly. You pushed yourself back to sit atop him, and Sanji’s brows rose pointedly.

“Up.” He repeated, and you then realized what he meant. You lifted off his cock, crying at how empty you were as Sanji pushed out from under you. As he stood, you eyed him up and down like a slab of meat, sighing longingly at his goddamn hypnotically perfect cock. He grasped your chin, tilting your head back to look up at him; he looked good like this, taking charge and commanding.

His gaze trailed from your eyes to your mouth then back to your eyes, a silent instruction that you eagerly obliged, opening your mouth so he could spit into it again. Your cunt tightened as his saliva hit your tongue, wet and needy for him to be back inside you.

Sanji gave you a swift kiss before releasing your chin, watching through hooded eyes as you arranged yourself doggy style before him, though your narrow bed forced you to brace your hands on the wall beside it. You peered back over your shoulder, arching your back impatiently as he simply took a moment to ogle your alluring body.

Just as you were about to whine with frustration, Sanji leaned over you, grabbing at your hips and pressing open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. You pushed your ass back, the full head of his cock brushing against your curves; he took in a deep breath of your scent, face in your hair, causing you to shudder.

His lips were so soft and sweet along your skin - too sweet, considering the carnal need eating you from the inside out. Maybe under any other circumstances you would have enjoyed Sanji’s tenderness - not that you’d dare tell him as much - but at the moment, all you could do was groan insistently while pressing your ass back.

“Sanji, fuck me.” You urged, causing him to lift his head and meet eyes over your shoulder; you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there was something serious in his gaze. Just as quickly as you noticed it, though, it was gone, Sanji leaning back to regard your ass, one hand squeezing it while he grabbed his erection in the other, lining himself up with your entrance.

His head nudged at your cunt, teasing up and down the slit, prodding at your clit. Just the baiting alone made you yearn, back arching again needily. He met your eyes once more as he slowly sunk into you, this new angle causing vulgar moans to escape you as he so easily bottomed out, filling you completely. Fuck, he got so deep, head just prodding at your uterus, your pussy constricting around his girth.

He lingered, as if allowing you to adjust to his size, though you were so damn wet and high that you just wanted him to fuck you till it hurt. With a drunken look in your face, you pushed back against his hips, mewling with satisfaction, hands flexing against the splintering wall. Behind you, Sanji, too, groaned, reaching around you to swirl his fingers over your swollen clit; the sensation caused your head to lull back, falling onto his shoulder.

You were damn near tempted to beg for him, to plead that he take you rough and quick. But as the words almost left your mouth, Sanji pulled out, stopping when all that was left was his head, before slamming back into you. You yelped with surprise, eyes crossing as he began to pump his hips, sinking into you over and over, so fast and deep that it was nearly painful - exactly how you wanted it, that goddamn mindreader.

The sounds spilling from your lips were so crass and pornographic - you were never so vocal before, but now you simply couldn’t help it. Not with Sanji’s cock buried perfectly between your folds, his hands squeezing your hips, his mouth hot on your skin. You couldn’t be sure if it was the damned plant making you like this or if it was really, simply him.

As Sanji fucked you like he was the one who needed it, you curved back into him, his chest to your back, hair tangling as his heavy panting blew across your face, the angle of your neck allowing you to rest your sweaty forehead against his chin. God, his own grunts of pleasure were all-consuming, making your cunt tighten and your knees shake; you had to grope tightly at the wall for purchase, feeling as if you could lose your grip at any moment.

“This how you want it?” Sanji muttered hoarsely, to which you hummed eagerly, “More?”

“God, ye-es,” You slurred.

He immediately started snapping his hips with even more intensity, a deep cry leaping from you. He leaned into you heavily, bracing his hands on the wall either side of yours, and you felt like you were going to come undone from how good he made you feel, how his hard cock plunged deep into you, how his hips slammed against your ass urgently.

Shit, there were stars in your eyes as you took him, pussy soaking wet and clenching tight, legs shaky with pleasure. You couldn’t help the way your limbs began to dissolve into jelly, struggling to stay upright, arching as you pressed forward, cheek to the wall in front of you, drool teasing as the corner of your mouth.

Feeling you melt on him, Sanji’s arms snaked around you again, cupping your breasts and forcing you back against him, sweat slick between your bodies as the angle change caused you to keen. His hands were delectably rough, one fondling your nipple as the other snaked down to your front, lingering just out of reach from your clit. His fingers splayed across your pelvis, pressing you back into him firmly, holding you steady as his cock thrust up into you.

“Really am made for you,” Sanji grumbled into your hair, teeth nipping at your ear. With the way your head spun, you nearly forgot what you’d said earlier until he recalled it, the gruffness of his words making you pulse around him. He moaned deep in his chest at the feel of you, hips driving with particular intensity, the pressure above your clit making you dizzy.

Sanji’s hand on your breast trailed up your neck to your jaw, urging you to turn your head so he could kiss you sloppily, his tongue shoving hungrily into your mouth, thrusts unrelenting.

When your lips broke apart, he kept you there, forehead to yours as he groaned, “Say it again.”

The request made a spring tighten deep inside, a moan falling from your mouth into his. Again, under different circumstances, you’d be nearly embarrassed by your dirty talk, but now it just made you wetter.

“Your cock was made for me,” You mewled, voice hitching, lips brushing Sanji’s with each word. He whined, hips persistent up against yours, only encouraging you, “Fits me so fucking good--”

Unexpectedly, his cock slammed up hard into you, the both of you yelping as he stiffened and held you tight. You could feel him cumming deep inside, twitching and grunting, filling you to the brim. And you were right there behind him, turned on so much by the fact that he was spilling into you; you lost control with a wild cry, body trembling with your release.

For a long beat, the two of you stayed just like that, tangled together and panting heavily. Your head was still spinning, Sanji’s cum slowly leaking down your thigh; and like the curse that just wouldn’t quit, your body lit up again carnally, ready to keep going and going and going.

“Shit,” Sanji hissed into your hair, finally coming back down to earth.

The both of you quivered as his hands dropped to your hips, easing himself slowly out of you with a low keen; the loss of him caused his seed to ooze out of you, soaking the inside of your legs. He rested his sweaty forehead between your shoulder blades as he caught his breath.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d cum that fast.”

You hummed contently, blindly reaching back to knot your fingers through his hair. Even as your body ached for him again, your lips curved up with jest, “You can do this all day?”

To your teasing, Sanji roughly squeezed your hips; you could feel his smile against your clammy skin, “Oh, I promise that. Just gimme five minutes.”

True to his word, Sanji recovered in record time; you spent those few minutes waiting touching yourself, though even that couldn’t make you feel as good as he did. That goddamn pollen was unrelenting - you’d lost track of how many orgasms you had once Sanji returned to you, using his hands and mouth and cock to bring your ruination time and again. And even then, you kept begging for more.

By the time your body had stopped burning, you realized just how spent you really were, muscles aching in all the right ways, limbs quivering even while you did nothing.

Fuck, even once you were back in your right mind, you couldn’t stop thinking about Sanji - that was the best fucking sex of your life, but how the hell could you tell him that? This was your crewmate, your friend, an obnoxious flirt, and, apparently, some kind of sex aficionado, considering all the ways he managed to make you cum. Once he eventually left the safety and comfort of your room, the spell would really be broken, you weren’t sure how you were ever going to look at him normally ever again.

But right now, as you watched him redress slowly - because he was just as worn out as you were - you tried not to let the panic set in. You were certain there was no fucking way you could just be normal with him moving forward. The thought that you and Sanji would be sharing a secret this big made something coil inside you, and for a moment you nearly panicked, thinking that maybe the plant’s effects hadn’t totally worn off and were back with vengeance.

But, no, it had nothing to do with the damned pollen. You realized, frighteningly, that it was completely and utterly you getting worked up thinking about what Sanji was able to do to you; your reaction had nothing to do with that plant at all.

You weren’t certain if Sanji could tell that you were panicking, because you weren’t sure what was going on in his head, either. Yet, when he met your watchful gaze while shrugging into his shirt, he gave you that dazzling, gorgeous grin of his, and you couldn’t help smiling back; though, the butterflies swirling in your stomach filled you with something akin to dread.

Sanji bit the inside of his lip as he studied your face; it seemed like he was trying to make up his mind about something, which only made you more nervous.

Before you could think or react or stop him, Sanji swiftly dipped down to where you lay on the bed, tenderly cupping your cheek and swooping in to steal a kiss that made your heart skip a beat inside your chest.

Shit, maybe this did mean something after all. And that terrified you most of all.

.

.

Addt, Author's Note | Been a little while since I've written smut, so hopefully this wasn't just repetitive or disappointing lol. I don't totally love the ending, but it isn't the worst, so c'est la vie~

Of course, Luffy proved that wrong.

Tears pour out of his eyes as he witnesses his own captain waiting for him. From the looks of it, he hasn't eaten for many days— the bones in his body, the structure of his jaw too prominent for a normal, well-fed human.

Sanji could not help but feel frustrated.

Luffy would never let that happen. The others do feel the same way, especially you. Getting in trouble with one of the Four Emperors did not scare you one bit.

It was losing Sanji that did.

“Sanji..” His captain weakly calls out to him.

Luffy's appetite immediately became stronger as he picked up the scent of Sanji's cooking. Opening the bento box, it may look unappetizing, yet he did not hesitate to pick up a chunk of the food—he immediately recognized that each food holds a significance to his crew.

“SO YUMMYYYY!!”

He picked up the cooked pasta with his fork. Luffy was already replenishing his energy. "This is [Name]'s favorite food!” He lets out a giggle, savoring the twinge of spice in his taste buds.

Sanji's frustration waver at the mention of your name.

What face do you have right now? Will you ever forgive him?

Maybe it is for the better if you find someone else better than him. Sanji's heart clutched at the thought of you being with someone other than him. His eyes landed back on his captain, who was happily enjoying his food.

"Sanji, I'm here for you."

Wearing a white tuxedo, he remembered his moments while in enemy territory—how Pudding looked at him with such “love” even though deep down, Sanji knew her true personality.

"Can you make this for me?"

Your words rang over his ears, suddenly feeling his heart beat fast. He furrowed his eyebrows, missing the way your smile brightens up his entire day.

The way your scent makes him swoon when you walk past him, the way you reciprocate his flirtations without hesitation, the way your casual touches on his skin send him to a spiral of bliss, and the way you protect him when he has to deal with women who are considered a threat to his friends.

You're the only one.

When he hadn’t heard your voice from one of Brulee’s mirror pieces, he figured you were upset.

You should be. He could never blame you.

Hearing his friends' voices made him feel relieved. He was so touched to hear them miss him. They were crying for him, for his sake.

The guilt doubled over when you walk passed by him while being inside Capone Bege's devil fruit. It hurts when you still acknowledge him with a dim smile— as if he did not betray your heart.

He would rather have you act like Nami. It was too pitiful, undeserving of him to see you act kind towards him.

Have you not harbor any hatred at him at all?

Or have you finally moved on with another man which is why it is easy for you to brush him off?

.

“Sanji!”

Nami, Carrot, and Chopper shouted out to him with relief in their voices. He wore a grin as they latched onto him, taken aback when Sanji witnessed how Nami's teary eyes gazed upon him, making him touched.

“You guys..”

A moment of peaceful silence passed after successfully getting away from the enemies bombing them, with the waves of the ocean breezing to fill the noise.

Nami parted her mouth open.

“She's waiting for you inside, y’know,” She informed with a sentimental tone, making Sanji's heartbeat pick up. He can imagine his courage slowly slipping away at the thought of having to face you.

Sanji dragged his whole body inside the ship. His nose picked up the scent of someone cooking—the spices of bell pepper made him realize that you were cooking a dish. “[Name]-chan?”

Your ears finally perked up, hearing Sanji's voice for such a long time. You switch off the stove before turning to him. Sanji blinked before getting close to you with an endearing look, “You don’t have to tire yourself out! It’s my job to feed you all.”

You gaze at him without speaking, making Sanji wallow in guilt—you were free to shout at him, scream at him, hit him, and just let out your frustrations.

“[Name]-chan, l..”

Sanji’s lips quiver; tears were about to spill out of his eyes, making you alarmed. You immediately walk towards him, resting your hands on his shoulders while he wears a good white tuxedo.

“Why are you crying?” Your voice rang softly in his ears, making him sniffle. He can feel your soft fingers wiping the dirt away from his face.

You know the answer, but for once, you can't give yourself to be mad at him. You were just so glad to have him back on your ship.

Fingers wiped his cheeks, making him look at you with so much vulnerability. “You look good in a tuxedo, Sanji.”

You want to lighten up the mood with that remark, making only you chuckle in response to your own statement. “I didn’t you were that eager to be married that much,” You tease with a smile.

“I miss you, Sanji. I’m very glad you’re back,” Your fingers run through his blonde hair, getting a feel of his stubble—pinching the loose skin.

This makes you furrow your eyebrows, noticing that he looks skinnier than usual. "Have you been eating? Why do you look like you faced hell?" You click your tongue. “Did they beat you up? I expected something better from the Vinsmokes.”

Yes, he faced hell. Not only did he have to get to meet his shitty father again, but he had to face the harsh truth of the woman that he had to wed, who mocked his situation.

That his cooperation with the marriage did nothing to spare not just your lives, but his sister’s and his family in the East Blue—he was truly hopeless for him to rely on a half-assed relationship to avoid his problems.

Sanji wrapped his arms around you, and you let him. You missed the warmth of his embrace. He buries his face on the crook of your neck, your scent comforting him.

His mouth opened a little while holding back a sob.

You are a woman with a gentle and kind soul; he feels unworthy of your care. His knees already gave out as he let out an ugly sob; your arms automatically wrapped around his body. “Shh… shh…”

Sanji wept quietly, loving the warmth of your embrace as he took a shaky breath to calm himself down. He rested his head on your chest, letting himself become comfortable with getting vulnerable with you. No flirty remarks, no worshipping, no swooning—just a heart-to-heart talk with you.

He looks into your eyes with longing, wanting to show you how badly he missed you. How he wants to touch you more. How he wants to be closer to you than before.

But Sanji knew it wasn’t his right yet to love you until you had forgiven him. He pushed himself away from you, sitting across from you while turning his head away out of shame.

He should be ashamed! Who does he think he is?!

“I'm sorry, [Name]-chan. For hurting you, for not relying on you all..”

His words touched you, your hand caressing his jaw. You gave him a soft smile when his eyes already met yours.

Sanji flinched in response because all he can see is warmth and love in your eyes. It makes him want to curl up in a hole for experiencing such a blessing.

Don’t do this to me. Sanji thinks in sorrow and guilt.

“[Name]-chan… please get mad at me, punch me, beat me up, or even ignore me! Just please… you do not deserve to be with someone like me.”

.

“Is that so?” You look at him with an amused smile, enjoying how he panics. The blonde cook in front of you keeps muttering apologies and several ways to punish him for being a bad crewmate.

You tug his tie before your lips crash with his, effectively shutting him up with a kiss.

He was too shocked at your action, making his mouth agape. You slid your tongue inside his mouth, taking the opportunity to make him quiet. Your ears met with a whimper. “Nn—!”

Both of you exchanged salivas, the desire and the tension between you two fueled. Sanji wants to control himself and pulled away out of shock before it gets even farther.

“W-Why?”

“Don’t you have to make it up to me?” Your lips whispered like honey melting his mind, the ringing inside quieting down at the sensation of your lips peppering kisses on his neck. “Sanji, I only want you.”

Ba-dump

Did he hear you right? His heart is beating erratically, your confession rendering him speechless. Because he thought all of it was just one-sided.

That you’re only indulging in his flirtations out of boredom.

Ba-dump

“[Name]-chan!”

He can feel his blood rushing to his cheeks, his body trembling. Sanji choked on his saliva when he saw the hunger in your eyes while guiding his hand in underneath the hem of your dress.

The blood rushes down to his cock.

“Do you know how difficult it is for me to finish without you?” You whisper in his ear sensually, making Sanji gulp down the saliva in his throat at your erotic words—he lets out a breathy groan when he boldly slips his fingers into your panties, feeling the damp spot by rubbing you through them.

What color are you wearing right now? He feels his pants getting tighter.

It feels so warm in his fingers. He notices how your face tries to not scrunch up in desperation for more friction at his slow pace. He moves your panties in one side, the feeling of your wet pussy lips triggers his fingers like an electric shock.

Sanji tests the waters by giving a slight nudge on your clit with his finger, making you gasp. He crashes his lips once again over yours, swallowing your moans when he slips his fingers inside your cunt and slowly thrusting them with acute precision.

Shlick. Shlick.

You are so wet for him. He spreads his fingers apart inside your pussy— making your breath morphed into a muffled whine when you bite your lip.

You sound too beautiful, he doesn’t want the others to hear you fall apart. His cock desperately wanting to be free with how cute and messy you’re falling apart from his fingers.

The lust inside your body heightens quickly when you watch him lick his fingers and moan like he has tasted the finest dessert. “I’ll make it up to you, sweetheart,” he starts while his hand slowly falls on your lower back, peppering kisses over your neck. “In my room,” Sanji continued breathily, feeling himself salivate.

Fuck. Your sly hand untying his tie, quickly unbuttoning his shirt before you two head to his quarters with an intense gaze—he lets himself get dragged by you with a dazed grin.

“Because who am I to not please my dearest?”

Alongside the aforementioned and your lack of spatial awareness, you’re entirely oblivious to the person approaching the bench you’re sitting on, until one of your friends has to grab your face to make you stop talking - stop talking about the very person who’s now observing you curiously. You don’t take the hint until you hear Akaashi clear his throat from behind you and bend down to pick up the volleyball that landed by your feet.

“Sorry about that.”

“O-Oh,” is all he receives from you in response, to which he smiles kindly. A smile that has you inches away from bursting into tears about how much you miss someone who isn’t yours.

He eyes you once more before jogging back to the corner in which he and Bokuto appeared to be practising, your eyes following him as he did so and observing his every jog and step.

Following that interaction, your group falls silent for a few seconds, until you slam your head onto the bench table and let a muffled scream rip from your throat—enough to express your humiliation but also keep it among your friends, unlike your previous conversation.

“Kill me, I can’t ever look that man in the eyes again. Do it now, quick and painless while I’m not ripping my hair out.”

One of your friends snorts out a laugh and smacks the top of your head. “Girl, as if you could ever look that man in the eyes. Don’t worry about it, he was smiling.”

At that, your head snaps up and you launch yourself across the bench until your face is centimetres away from your friend’s. “Was he really? Don’t lie to me, I didn’t see him smiling.”

She shakes her head. “That’s because you were too busy wallowing in your self-pity and staring at us to realise. He walked off like he got the biggest birthday present of his life.”

And as told, Akaashi had jogged back to Bokuto with a massive grin, rather uncharacteristic of the man who typically—at most—cracked an amused smile. Thus, when Bokuto sees him coming back with such an expression, the ball becomes the last of his concerns. He leans over to observe Akaashi closely, humming curiously.

“Did something happen?”

“Ah, nothing really. Don’t worry about it.”

“Akaaaaashi.”

“Bokutoooo.”

The owl-like man groans and snatches the ball in mock frustration, to which Akaashi chuckles and gently pats him on the back. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to inform anyone that he’d started grinning at the mere sound of you giggling about the prospect of interacting with him.

For the past ten minutes, you and your friends had entered a routine of squealing about the prospect of being Iwaizumi’s lover and shushing each other when the excitement became too loud. Eventually, it reached a point where the latter was no longer done—no one was supervising the volume of your swooning and dreaming.

“He’s so dreamy,” you sigh, resting your right cheek on your right fist.

“And jacked, I mean he could probably pick you up easily,” one of your friends comments, waggling her eyebrows and laughing at the drastic change of colour in your face.

You’ve interacted with Iwaizumi a few times, enough to classify him as a friend, but not enough that you’d expect to see him frequently or even anticipate him thinking about you. In actuality, the man doesn’t go a day without you crossing his mind, to the point where he starts questioning where the hell he developed his interest for you from. That’s not to say you’re not an intriguing person, just that he hadn’t had a serious conversation with you that wasn’t interrupted by something—whether that was the both of you needing to head to class or Oikawa yelling his name.

“I’m telling you, I’m getting taller, you asshat,” Iwaizumi grumbles to a very tired and sluggish Oikawa.

“And I’m telling you I don’t care whether that’s true or not as long as you’re still a reliable spiker.”

Iwaizumi smacks the top of his head with a passion so strong it would seem as though the two were words away from killing each other.

The two continue to walk through the school’s lengthy corridors until they approach the gym’s open doors. A message was sent out to the Seijoh team group chat, following which all that came as responses were thumbs up reactions to the message. At least they weren’t ignoring it.

As the two men walk into the gym and toss their bags in a corner, Oikawa can hear chatter and laughter from people other than him and Iwa, sufficient enough to distract him from the impending practice match. After greeting the others and agreeing on a rotation for the game, Iwaizumi’s ears perk up at the sound of his name. He knows it doesn’t come from his lot since they’re too busy stretching to care, so he’s fairly certain it’s coming from the group of girls he can see in the gym’s far other side—the spot reserved for basketball. His interest is only truly piqued when he notices your familiar face.

Though, he can’t just walk over there and question you.

Matsukawa has his hands on the ball, tossing it into the air and catching it. He’s not really paying attention to what Oikawa is babbling about behind him, so Iwaizumi seizes the opportunity and politely asks for the ball from him. Once Matsukawa hands it over with a heavy sigh prior, Iwaizumi practically launches it to the other side of the gym.

“Oikawa, you absolute trash,” Iwaizumi grumbles with faux annoyance before jogging over to get the ball, providing him with enough of a chance to get within your close proximity and overhear your conversation.

“Iwa’s so hot. I need him as mine so so bad. I die every time he talks to me.”

“That is highly concerning,” Iwaizumi intercepts into the conversation after retrieving the ball, to which you scream and slap your hands over your mouth as if you were caught leaking confidential information (which isn’t too far from the truth).

Your friends are gaping and avoiding eye contact with both you and Iwa in an attempt to appear apathetic to the whole situation, something they fail at tremendously.

“T-That was not about you,” you sputter.

Iwaizumi raises a brow and feigns consideration, though he doesn’t say anything to point out the fact that there is no other Iwaizumi in the school, let alone one that talks to you. “I’d hope not. Wouldn’t want you dead now, hm?”

And that’s all he says before flashing you a knowing smile and heading back to his group.

"His brother is so much more my type, but I definitely get why Atsumu's causing your heart-eyes," your friend snickers, nudging your shoulder a little roughly as if to knock you out of your "daze."

You glare at her lightheartedly. "Heart-eyes? No such thing, never experienced it," you object weakly, to which your friends share a knowing look.

Because heart-eyes was the exact way to describe how you looked at Atsumu. Even if it was the quickest glance, you seared the sight of him into your mind and made him your incentive for even attending school. Well, that and needing good grades.

The group of you are walking home together, an hour past school's final dismissal bell. The streets were empty aside from a few locals walking their dogs or coming back from the supermarket, and it was the main reason you liked staying after school—it meant no crowds and no rowdiness that made your head split.

Atsumu has just finished up practice and is tying his school shoes as he walks, hopping on one foot and desperately grappling with the other. He has the paper documenting next month's line-up between his lips.

Osamu deadpans at his stupidity. "So you couldn't change shoes when benched?"

Atsumu snorts. "Yeah, like that ever happened," he retorts, words mumbled from the fact that he could barely part his lips to not risk dropping the paper. "You're a sore loser."

"You're an arrogant winner."

"Still better."

It's Osamu's turn to scoff then, though there's no real malice behind it.

The two wave goodbye to Kita and the others as they go they separate ways, and once Atsumu finally ties his shoes, he lands flat on his feet and shoves the paper into his bag, sighing loudly.

"He's cute, I know... no, I'll never talk to him... out of my league," Atsumu hears, ears twitching at the intriguing snippets of conversation.

When he and Osamu turn the corner onto the main road, they see a familiar group of girls waiting for the light to turn red to cross. Osamu spares them a brief glance before sliding a pineapple bun out his bag and unwrapping it. Atsumu instinctively tunes out Osamu's chewing sounds when he sees you amongst the group, eyes lit up with something akin to excitement.

"This light always takes forever," one of your friends groans, checking the time on her phone.

You hum and nod your head in agreement, staring at the still-red pedestrian signal.

"Atsumu's playing a match next month, I think it's against Karasuno. No doubt that we're winning," the same friend mentions suddenly, glancing at you.

"Karasuno's getting good. I wouldn't underestimate them," you mumble, placing your foot forward when the pedestrian light turns green.

"Nah, we're winning for sure."

You yelp at the familiar voice and almost trip over your own feet. Managing to actually not fall flat on your face, you look over your shoulder and see the very topic of your conversation(s).

"Atsumu," you murmur idiotically, as if reunited with a past lover.

He grins at that and nods at the green signal. "This light takes forever, remember? I'd get a move on if I were you."

You raise a brow, and he pales a little.

"Not in a rude way—I don't know why I said that, I just meant we should walk now—" Atsumu's cut off by his own pained grunt when Osamu nudges him in his ribs. Compose yourself, is what Osamu was essentially communicating. You like her. She won't bite as long as you don't mess up... anymore.

"So, you were talking about the match?" The blond asks, clearing his throat as the lot of you begin crossing the street.

You purse your lips. "Yeah..."

Ten seconds pass in complete silence, nothing but the sounds of your footsteps and the low purrs of car engines reaching your ears. Until another one of your friends speaks up.

"We can leave if you guys wanna, like, kiss."

"Oh my gosh, no—" you gasp out, slapping your hands over your face.

"W-what? That's not—" Atsumu stutters, swallowing thickly to steel his voice and expression.

Osamu huffs out an almost inaudible laugh. "This guy wouldn't have it in him to kiss her before a ring."

You are now relaxed.

Having your alone time in the bathroom—feeling at peace with being by yourself, just taking your time to clean yourselves up. Your naked body submerged underwater, a scented bath oil that calms your mind. The stress of your meeting with the other members of the Underworld vanished in one single snap.

If only you were truly alone.

“Heavens, if I didn’t know the true nature of you two, I’d die of a heart attack,” you snapped with a scrunched face. Claude’s sneaky fingers fondle your chest, still swollen in sensitivity to the stimulation. “Stop sneaking around me like a bunch of creeps—oh!”

Sebastian joins you in the bathtub and grips your hips roughly, pulling you on his lap to let you feel the bulge in his pants. You clicked your tongue in annoyance when you felt another raging, hard boner at your backside.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” Claude whispers against your ear from behind, already unbuckling his belt that makes you sigh tiredly. “And I don’t want to wait any longer.”

Sebastian growls at him out of jealousy. “You already had your share earlier, Faustus,” Bloodlust curls around his human form, growing heavier and more suffocating, snapping Claude out of his lustful daze and boring a neutral expression.

“It is not my fault that I’m the favorite, Michaelis,” Claude flashes a smug smirk, his fingers wrapped like a hollow around your neck. His erected cock already twitching to life as it slaps on your cheek.

Your face twists into irritation.

“Ugh, men.”

You find yourself 30 minutes late for your meeting, satisfying your two demons.

It gets worse when you interact with other supernatural beings.

Apparently, you’re forbidden to talk to the Undertaker—even though he’s your best friend in the whole world.

“Your shop does not stop getting dirty, it’s gross.”

You breathe out in annoyance, while you wear a cloth over the lower half of your face. A broom is in your hands, sweeping off the dust that is spread out in every corner of the shop.

Undertaker hums innocently, watching you with a cup of tea. “Then I’m very lucky to have a servant clean that for me,” he giggled mischievously, watching you with a fond look on his face. The side of his face rests on his palm, stirring the cup with a spoon.

You scoffed loudly. He really is lucky that you like him.

“Your rendezvous with them must be reallyy good, doesn’t it?”

You choked on your spit at his words, embarrassment flooding over your cheeks when he sends you a grin full of mirth. He points to the nape of your neck, immediately making you cover the marks your demons left on you.

“Shut your mouth!” You seethed with humiliation, covering your face with your hands as if it could hide it.

“The look on your face. Hah—!” Undertaker cackles.

He strides towards you with a bounce in his steps, before wrapping his arms around your neck. He nuzzles his cheek into the temple of your forehead, mumbling quietly. “You’ve been preoccupied lately, that you became a lackluster visitor to me.”

“Stop being dramatic, I only missed one day.”

“Still.”

You laughed at his overdramatic play, kissing his cheek platonically. Undertaker lets out a pleased hum, his grip on your waist tightening—the action reveals the bright hue of his eyes under his bangs.

“I will see you again the next day,” you promised with a bright smile.

Undertaker cups your cheeks, returning the forehead kiss to you. “Be careful, my dear. You know I truly care about you,” he gives you a serious expression before it returns to his soft, compassionate one.

“And I too.”

This did not go unnoticed by the two demons stalking you. Your behaviour ticks off their minds, already planning ways to eliminate the grim reaper. And of course, they made an agreement not to let you off without a little punishment.

“Have you two seen my—oh.” You blinked abruptly, sensing the dark aura that is emitting from them. Butler uniforms already shredded into pieces, their true forms slowly being exposed as their eyes look at you with hunger and anger. “Why do you two look so angry?”

Your question was answered with a night filled with traces of their carnal desires.

.

.

“You’re walking a bit funny,” Ciel pointed out with a disturbed expression on his face. He points the fork with his cheesecake at you. The more your legs wobble while you try to take a seat across from him, the more he becomes concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”

You only send him an awkward smile before letting out a grimace when you try to sit down. “Leg cramps.”

Sebastian gets close to you, giving you your cup of tea before giving you an innocent smile. On the other hand, Claude steps himself up by refilling his young master’s cup, while keeping an eye on you.

Alois’ eyes dart between the two demons—immediately getting an idea of the situation before stifling his chuckle, already knowing the reason for your current state. He drinks his tea, giving you a knowing smirk with a tinge of distaste. “Oh, that flexible, huh?”

“What?” Ciel has no idea.

And it will remain as that. For a while.