⋆˙⟡ I am VoodooChild, and this is my MySpace page Tumblr blog ⟡⋆˙
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I'm here to tell you about the smut* I write (mainly on AO3) and to look at pretty gifs of Jensen Ackles, and it looks like I'm all done telling you about the smut...
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*everything on this blog will be very filthy and NSFW, blanket MDNI!
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Had to dust off the old pinterest account. I'm never on there so it'll be interesting to see what it gives me. Thanks for the tags @bettystonewell, @aseafullofstars, and @reginaphalangelobster!
I just gotta say that I love how the outfit feels like it embodies both of my current hyperfixations character-wise. Like it's giving Spencer Reid but also the plaid throws in hints of Winchester.
No pressure tags: @chroniclesoftime @chevroletdean @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth @jollyhunter @zepskies @voodoochildthings @h0lym01y @kblognar @aniresrene + anyone else who'd like to jump in!
Oh fun, it's been a while since I've done one of these! Let's see:
...not what I expected, my takeaway from this is that Pinterest thinks I'm way younger than I actually am. Except for Kirby. That fucker has been with me for a long time.
No pressure moot-tags: @yeowangies @chroniclesoftime @kizarus-wife
The rain on the latest island you landed on makes you feel things you wouldn't otherwise. Or does it?
Word Count: 2.3 K
Tags: Smut, MDNI, sex pollen, love confessions, a tiny bit of oral (m receiving)
A/N: WELL here we are again. Looks like I just can't let this man go, and we're about to get serious! I might be slipping out of OPLA and into anime territory with all the nosebleeds and angry fangs but that's the beauty of writing your own stuff, you can just do whatever the fuck you want <3
Also, I had this whole post prepped and was searching for a title when I realized I literally could go with purple rain. The brain isn't what it was anymore.
“What do you mean she's gone?? I told you to make sure that nobody leaves the ship!”
Nami sounds equally angry and exasperated, both at you not being on the Thousand Sunny and Luffy continuing to pick his nose while she tries to make sense of him.
“She said she was going out to, uh, buy something maybe? And I told her to be back by sunrise, just like you told… ouch!” His forehead immediately starts swelling where Nami's fist connects with it as she yells at him.
“SunSET! I told you to make sure everyone was on the ship by sunSET, the weird storm is about to hit any minute and we don't know what it's going to do…”
She growls angrily, pinches the bridge of her nose with her fingers. Over at the other side of the table, Robin flips through the pages of one of the books Nami borrowed from Weatheria.
“If I'm interpreting this correctly… this storm might just turn people into… into pervs?”
Next to her, Chopper's mouth drops open as he yells in disbelief. “A storm that will turn people into perverts? What kind of island is this?”
“It looks like the rain activates the psychoactive properties of the native flora that can make people feel aroused, and the winds seem to carry the substance all over the island. It's all very interesting. But we should probably keep all doors and windows shut.”
A high-pitched shattering sound makes everyone turn their heads. Over at the sink, Sanji's standing there like a pillar of salt, remnants of the glass he was drying in hand as blood starts dripping both from his fingers and his nose.
“You're saying… this island makes women… horny?”
Nami almost pounces on him, her teeth strangely looking like fangs for a second. “Are you for real? That’s your take-away? This is a serious situation, a member of our crew is out there and God knows what's going to happen to her, does she even know this storm is coming?”
Luffy opens his mouth to defend himself, but Nami's fist gives him a second swelling, just on top of the first one. In the meantime, Sanji gets a grip on himself. He quickly bandages his hand with a rag, wipes his nose.
“I'm going to get her.”
He's almost out of the door when Nami pulls him back by his collar.
“Are you insane? I just told you we can't go outside, weren't you listening? And who knows what this creepy phenomenon is going to do to you, you're already a perv. For all we know it would make your heart explode or something.”
“I don't think that's how it—” Robin chimes in with her academic point of view, but Nami shoots her a nasty look, making her keep her opinion to herself.
“I don't care, Nami.” Sanji has a stern look on his face, laced with concern as he speaks your name. “If she's out there, I have to go get her. It doesn't matter if I'm in danger. If there's a chance I can save her, I have to go.”
And with that, he pries Nami's hand off his collar, presses a short kiss to her knuckles and vanishes out the door.
You're standing on the edge of a cliff, looking over the vast blue of the ocean. The sky is gray with a distinct purple hue that you've never seen before. Beautiful, you think as thunder rolls over the raging sea.
You can feel the storm coming in, the air is dense and agitated, it's making the hairs in the back of your neck stand up. But you've never feared the tides and you had been in desperate need of some fresh air after being cooped up on the Sunny for so long, thoughts and emotions wandering in directions you'd never intentionally allow yourself to go in. Trying to sort out why all the time secretly spent with Sanji was somehow making you itch even more instead of just relaxing you.
You close your eyes, enjoying the wind tousling your hair, take a deep breath of freedom. Another thunder claps, and then you feel the first couple of raindrops falling on your face. You smile into the sky, one with yourself and nature, when all of a sudden you feel a strange, tingling sensation.
Somehow, the droplets on your cheeks leave a weirdly warm sensation seeping into your skin as they scatter over your face. You lift your hands, palms turned towards the sky, watch as the rain – again with that slightly purple hue – wets your skin, and after a couple of seconds, causes the same tingling sensation you're feeling on your face. Even though it's not unpleasant, it starts dawning on you that this isn't just regular rain, and that you probably should try to get out of it. You look back at the forest you walked through. The path is easy enough to follow, but it's going to be a while until you make it back to the ship. So you start walking. Fast.
The wind rustles through the leaves angrily as more and more water starts pouring from the sky, raining down on you, drenching your clothes. And with every step you take, your skin feels warmer and warmer, so warm the heat seems to be reaching your innermost parts.
By the time you reach the clearing about halfway to the bay the ship is anchored in, you've broken into a sprint, the heat has become a burning ardor. Lit a fire in your core that you know all too well, one that can only be kept in check in one single way. Your heart is racing and you're confused, but there's one thing you know. You need to get to him. As quickly as possible.
You're running along the gravel road, turn left on a big oak tree, and bump face-first into Sanji. The impact sends you flying to the floor, you land on your ass harshly, and half a second later, Sanji is kneeling in front of you, trying to help you up.
“Sanji!” You only got a whiff of his scent, but it's made the fire in your veins shoot straight between your legs. Before he can even say a word, you're on him. You leap at him like a cat, throwing him on his back, hands cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss. You can feel his arms snaking around your waist as your tongue hungrily demands entrance in his mouth, little moans accompanying your wild kisses.
Your body moves on its own as you feel your hips grinding into the gorgeous man pinned beneath you. You only let him come up for air because you need more, sit up to start undoing the buttons on his shirt.
“Love, are you… are you alright? Nami said the rain on this island might—”
You don't let him finish his sentence, swallow half of it with another kiss after you've undone his buttons in record time.
“Sanji, I— I just need you so badly, I just, please? I need you to—”
You kiss him again because apparently, you can't let yourself finish a sentence either. And while Sanji looks like he's a little overwhelmed, you know there's nothing he wouldn't do for you. He's made sure you know that, over and over again.
When his hands move to your breasts, you moan so wantonly you're shocked to hear such a sound from your own mouth, and it's the moment you just can't take it any longer. You crawl down from Sanji, violently try to yank his pants down and curse at his belt impeding you from doing so. You have a hard time opening it because your fingers are shaking and slippery from the rain, it makes a wave of anger flood your system, but not enough to override the raw want that has invaded all of your senses.
“Baby, we should get out of the rain, Nami said that this storm does this weird thing where it makes people go crazy with lust, I am loving this but we really should get you to safety…”
You barely listen to what Sanji is saying as you work him out of his pants, and the second his hard cock finally springs free, you bow down to take him in your mouth. Sanji shuts up immediately. You can hear him groaning as you bob your head up and down while, simultaneously, shimmy out of your panties. Sanji gasps, and for a moment you wonder if you're sucking him off too hard. But you don't have the mind to think about that right now, finally let him drop out of his mouth and crawl back up again.
It almost feels like an out of body experience as you hear yourself rambling about how you need him to be inside you, and next to no time later, your already throbbing pussy swallows his cock whole. You moan loudly as you make yourself comfortable on him, shifting left and right so he can reach as deep as physically possible.
You lean back, hold on to the wet fabric of the pants you didn't bother to take off him, and start riding. The sensation washing over you is heavenly. The fullness, the sound of both your desperate moans over the soundscape of the rain pattering on the surrounding leaves. Sanji's hands on you wandering, trying to caress every inch of your body. It feels like paradise.
“Mon cœur, I need to know that you're alright.”
You look down at Sanji, enamored with the excited yet soft expression on his face, the exact one he always wears when the two of you are alone. It makes your heart flutter.
“I'm good, Sanji, I'm so, so good,” you say as you give his dick a squeeze, prompting a happy groan from him.
“You make me feel amazing, like, fuck, like nobody has ever made me feel before.”
You keep working yourself into a trance-like state, head tilted up into the rain, eyes closed, steadily on the edge of being overwhelmed by the myriad of things you're feeling.
You blindly run your hands all over Sanji, and at some point, grabbing him by his collar, pull him up to you. Then you cup his face, pepper kisses all over his jaw as you hungrily grind down on him at the new, changed angle.
“Mh,” you moan into his open mouth, “Sanji, you feel so good. You taste so good. Fuck. You're amazing. I love you so, so much,” you pant, voice almost sounding exasperated. You're so entranced that you don't even realize what you just said, nor that Sanji goes rigid against you for a split second. All you can focus on is the all-encompassing pleasure consuming your every single cell. And so you keep going, and going, and going.
You only feel yourself closing in on your climax as the rain slowly starts to subside, Sanji looks like he might have stopped breathing, but he's still solid as a rock, letting you use him for whatever you need. You dig your nails into his back as you come, continue riding him as long as the orgasm stretches, and only feel him shuddering with his own release under you when your hips finally stop moving, only the walls of your pussy continuing to angrily twitch around him.
You slump down against Sanji's chest, he catches you while he's still pulsing inside you. Only now you're suddenly very aware of how exhausted you are, you can barely move your legs, your knees are raw and covered in mud.
You mewl, press your face into Sanji's chest before he, gently caressing your cheek, lifts your chin up to look at you.
“Hey there. You still good?”
You blink at him, unsure of whether you actually are alright, but then nod carefully. You look at him beneath you, equally drenched and covered in mud, then up at the canopy where the dark clouds have finally parted to reveal a star spangled sky.
“Fuck,” you groan as you roll off him. You're going to feel this. For a long time.
Sanji laughs, wraps an arm around you to keep you from moving too far away from him, pulls you to lie down with him. You rest your head on his shoulder, let him card his fingers through your soaked hair.
For a while, you just lie there, looking up at the firmament. Run your hand over his chest as the wet clothes on you slowly start feeling cold and clammy.
“Sanji?”
You don't have to look at him to know his attention has been on you all along anyway.
“Hm?”
“That was… intense. But… Why weren't you affected by the rain?”
He thinks for a second.
“Maybe it's because I always feel that way.”
“You… you always feel like that?”
You can hear him smirking, feel him nodding against the top of your head. You laugh.
“Wow. That sure sounds exhausting.”
“It absolutely is. But I've had years of training to control it.”
“You really are an impressive man.”
He picks a curl off your still moist face, twirls it between his fingers.
“Hey.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you said it in the heat of the moment, because of the rain and everything, but… I love you.”
You shift to look at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. Then you move to straddle him again, bow down low to run your nose over his
“I love you too, Sanji.”
You physically feel the air leaving his chest at your words. You bend down a little lower, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as your hips start grinding against him again. His hands move to your ass, and you feel a new wave of that familiar heat. What a weird little island this is.
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Ah, Luffy. I've seen lots of Luffy smut around, but personally, I just don't see it. To me, he's the idiot baby brother who has only one thing in mind, and that's becoming king of the pirates. I ADORED all of the Amazon Lily stuff, for me, him being so above all sexual desire is just one more thing that makes him so damn special, and I don't wanna take that away from him.
I do wanna pinch his rubber cheeks and stretch them as far as my arms will allow tho
PAIRING: Sanji/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Only One Bed Trope, Explicit sexual content - Cunnilingus, Fingering, Cowgirl, Smoking (reader attempts to smoke at some point), Praise, Lots of Terms of Endearment, Lots of Dialogue WORDCOUNT: 5650
Summary:
"One bed is one thing, but only one pillow and one blanket?" You sighed in frustration.
Sanji didn’t seem to be having any problem regarding that matter.
Notes:
Inspired by this post.
I've been thinking about this man for way too long (hasn't even been a month). I just need to do this once and I'll get over it, I promise (lying)
I have a few things to say: I never actually finished the manga or the anime, I have just been keeping up with one piece in general, so i'm a little insecure about his characterization, but at the same time it's like. this is how i imagine he is. he's a guy who'd do anything for a kiss basically. And this is also how his dynamic with the reader would be: a little power dynamics, and she's a little more dominant than he is, but it's nothing Big. And lastly, in my mind, this is post time skip sanji, you can obviously imagine him however you want, but it's what i had in mind when I wrote this.
I wanted to go back to writing a little more funny fics like i used, so i had fun and gave sanji 3 nosebleeds during this fic lmaooo
Please enjoy, and if you have a few bucks to spare, considering buying me a kofi!
"One bed is one thing, but only one pillow and one blanket?" You sighed in frustration.
Sanji didn’t seem to be having any problem regarding that matter. He was giddy, you could feel his ecstatic energy as you walked around the room, in hopes of finding a solution you knew wasn’t there.
“This is the most inconvenient situation we could ever be in!” He claimed with a giant, dopey smile on his face.
You snorted, trying not to laugh.
“I can sleep on the floor, if it truly bothers you.” Sanji added after a beat of your silence.
“That sounds swell!” You grinned mischievously when he visibly deflated, shoulders drooping as he let out a disappointed sigh. “Don’t be ridiculous, no one needs to sleep on the floor, especially if there’s only one blanket.”
“You’re truly an angel!”
Despite the situation, his smile seemed genuine, and your heart skipped a beat.
“I’m taking a shower.” You needed to take a step away from the current event that was unfolding, and ignoring whatever lascivious comment Sanji threw your way, you made a beeline for the bathroom.
It wasn’t like you didn’t want to share a bed with him. Your contradicting feelings regarding the situation were the actual problem.
Being paired with the handsome pervert that was Sanji was a complete coincidence. Nami had the pleasure of pairing up the entire crew, and luck made you and Sanji have a grocery shopping date for the rest of the day. He was pleased to be graced with your presence, and made it explicit every time he opened his mouth to talk to you.
Bless your extremely good luck that paired you up with Sanji for also granting you a heavy storm that broke out just when you were about to go back to the Thousand Sunny.
You sighed as you washed your face, breathing in and out to calm your nerves. Everything was crystal clear, Sanji wasn’t the one confusing you. Your feelings were to blame, they were completely mixed up in your mind. He acted like that with every beautiful woman he encountered, and you weren’t any different. He did make you feel wanted, but it wasn’t real. You had to remind yourself of that.
You liked the attention. You weren’t attracted to him at all.
You repeated that in your mind like a mantra.
Sanji eyed you up and down in the most conspicuous way possible when you stepped out. At least the place you were staying at had good soft robes.
“How was the shower? Nice and warm?”
“Just go shower!” You replied, exasperated.
You wanted to get this night over with quickly. Maybe you could retain your mental stability once it was over.
You laid on the queen size bed once he occupied the bathroom, considering sleeping with just the robe on; it’s not like you had any other option, you didn’t want to dirty your clothes even more. Staring at the ceiling, you tried to calm your nerves. You played with your hair, stared at your nails, bit your lips, listened to the strong wind whistling outside along with the steady tip-tap of the rain. You even briefly wondered what he was thinking; did he expect something from you tonight? It’s not like you gave him any indication that you even find him cute. He was a pervert, maybe he expected a peek. Would he try something? Would he touch you ‘accidentally’?
What was taking him so long?
“Ready to do this, gorgeous?” Sanji asked with a wide smile as he stepped out of the bathroom, wearing a similar robe.
“To sleep? Yes.” You countered, watching him as he undid his robe, which made you gasp. “What are you doing?!”
“I’m taking off the robe.” He replied flatly, looking at you curiously. “Are you sleeping with it on?”
“Y-Yes!” You wrapped your arms around yourself as blood flowed rapidly to your face. You got a peek of Sanji’s clearly defined abs, along with his heart-themed boxers. Your abdomen tightened in a knot in consequence.
Damn it, this was pathetic on your part when he was the pervert.
“Oh.” He pouted, straightening out the robe once again.
You steadied your breathing as he got into bed right beside you.
“Do you want the pillow for yourself?” Sanji asked you. He seemed genuinely concerned, with no undertone of lecherousness.
“We can share-”
“I know you’d be more comfortable with it.” He smiled warmly, handing you the one pillow with the silk pillowcase. “I sleep better without one anyway.”
He was clearly lying, but you let it slide.
“Thank you.” You looked at him with a glare as he scooted closer. “Sanji, there’s a neutral zone between us, if you cross it, I’ll consider it a direct attack.”
“A direct attack? What does that mean?” He asked with little hearts in his eyes, clearly misinterpreting your words.
“It means I’m throwing you out the window.”
“Fine.” He sighed, scooting a little farther apart.
You tried not to laugh at his reaction. Placing the pillow underneath your head, you settled as comfortably as you could, covering your legs and feet with the blanket before turning to the side.
“Goodnight.”
You paid attention to the way the bed shifted. You heard Sanji sigh very quietly; the only reason you even heard it was because he was so close to you. The mattress shifted underneath you again, you knew he had laid down as well.
“Goodnight, darling.”
When he turned off the light of the nightstand, the warmth coming from him gained your complete attention, and you took a few deep breaths before attempting to sleep, despite your own temperature starting to rise.
Very hard to doze off when anything and everything startled you. It was difficult enough that you could feel his body behind you, even if he wasn’t touching you at all. You just were incredibly aware of how close he was.
The sound of the storm outside was bothering you as well.
You tried to find the peace that was required to sleep, but any slight movement was enough for your mind to drift off. You felt Sanji move, turning as he tried to sleep. Were you bothersome for him? Was your own body heat bothering him? You even heard him sigh a few times until it was completely quiet, except for the occasional rumbling of a strong wind outside.
After a while, you turned around, facing the ceiling. You turned your head to look at Sanji; he had also turned his back to you, and it was your turn to pout. He was too distracting even when you couldn’t even see him. His hair was pretty, though, and you satisfied yourself with that.
The lighting brightened the room occasionally, making you gasp the one time a roaring thunder happened alongside it.
“Can’t sleep?”
Sanji’s soft voice made you jolt, and you looked for him in the dark. You didn’t notice when he turned to face you, but he was gazing at you so intensely, his one visible eye gleaming, it made you nervous.
“Yeah… Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“I wasn’t asleep, no need to apologize.” Sanji smiled, sitting up against the headboard before turning on the light by the bedside.
You watched him look for a cigarette by the nightstand before lighting it up and taking a firm puff. Smoke filled the air when he breathed it out. You hated, sometimes, that he was so attractive when he smoked.
“Smoking is bad for you.” You commented flatly.
A stupid, completely idiotic thing to comment on; Sanji had smoked since before you even met him. There hasn’t been one moment when he even considered not smoking. However, you couldn’t help yourself.
He laughed quietly, gazing at you with a fond eye that made you melt.
You didn’t know what prompted you to do what you were about to do, but you didn’t question it. You reached for the cigarette, taking it from his lips and bringing it to your own. Sanji looked at you, completely wide-eyed, as you took a deep breath of the smoke into your mouth.
You didn’t exactly know how to smoke, it was inevitable you’d start coughing.
“This is awful!” You said, trying to catch your breath.
Sanji laughed nervously when you handed him his cigarette back. You eyed him curiously while recovering from the dumbassery you just pulled, and saw him wipe the blood suddenly dripping from his nose with his robe.
It was your turn to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” He asked, visibly nervous.
“Nothing. Pervert.” Your tone had no malice, only playfulness.
“You’re the one who took my cigarette,” Sanji replied, agitated by what just happened. “Nonetheless, I’m blessed now that this has touched your lips.”
It was your turn to feel blood rapidly flowing towards your cheeks. You started to feel a little weak in the knees, and luckily you were laying down, because the need to reach out and touch him was there.
Your gaze remained on Sanji as he took a deep drag on his cigarette. It was possibly the hottest you ever felt. You had never done something like that, but you understood why he got a nosebleed when you saw him wrapped his lips around the foot, the same place where your own lips had been.
As you considered maybe taking a risk within these four walls, he turned to look at you with a fondness in his eyes you had rarely seen. He usually reserved those for Nami (or so you thought).
“What?” You asked with a timid smile.
“You’re beautiful.” Sanji said, breathlessly.
Taken aback and embarrassed, you were momentarily reminded that he was like that with every gorgeous woman.
It wasn’t real.
“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” He asked, noticing the change in your expression.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Do what, love?” Sanji asked, looking at you with concern as he noticed your trepidation.
“You know… Flirting, complimenting me.”
“I should always tell you how beautiful you are.” He replied with a chuckle.
“It’s just…”
“If it truly bothers you, I’ll tone it do-”
“I don’t think it’s true.”
There was a moment of silence, except for an unusually loud thunder that broke the atmosphere.
Sanji stared at you with a frown, and you were nervous about what he was going to say. You weren’t fishing for compliments or validation. You simply didn’t feel like your appearance was deserving of all the things he said (especially when Nami and Robin were far more beautiful), in addition to the fact that you didn’t believe most of the words that came out of his mouth.
“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” His face showed sincere uneasiness. You only eyed him briefly in response. “I fear I don't actually say it enough then.”
“Don’t be silly.” You scoffed, amused. “It’s fine, I appreciate your words but-”
Sanji exhaled the smoke towards the side, avoiding your face, as he laid down beside you, propping himself up with one arm. Your face felt warm with how close he was, and you were glad the room was dim-litted, or else he'd have inevitably noticed how nervous you were.
“I meant it every time I have said you’re gorgeous and beautiful and sweet-”
“Okay, okay!”
“I think I should say it more to convince you!” Sanji grinned roguishly. In your anxious state, you couldn’t come up with anything to say as he took your hand in his, squeezing it affectionately. “Your beauty knows no bounds. Your freckles are like stars on a clear night. Your smile lights up the entire room.”
You cringed at the incredibly eloquent speech he was using, sinking more into the mattress.
But the action that made your heart flutter was the kiss he placed on the top of your hand.
“Sanji.”
“Yes?”
“The neutral zone.”
“Oh.” He pouted, shoulders drooping.
He didn’t let go of your hand so quickly, running his fingers over your knuckles and giving it one last squeeze before letting go.
“I truly meant every single word.” Sanji added, voice so serious that it made you look at him with surprise. There had been only a handful of moments when he stopped acting like a simp around you, and this one was making your stomach turn. “It pains me that a wonderful woman like you doesn’t see her own beauty. You’re even kind, strong, always looking out for all of us instead of yourself. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.”
Your eyes were as big as flying saucers when you stared at him. Everything indicated that he was dead serious about what he just said.
When Sanji took a long drag on the cigarette, you had to look away.
Maybe you were overthinking. Maybe it was time to admit, at least for that one night, that not only did you find him attractive, but that you also wanted to touch him in the most sinful way.
“You know… Maybe it’s not a bad idea to violate the neutral zone for tonight.”
You yelped, bewildered, when Sanji was suddenly on top of you, practically caging you to the mattress, as soon as that last word left your mouth.
“Do you mean that?!” He almost yelled, and you could actually see his pupils turn into little hearts.
“For tonight!” You repeated, afraid you’d break so easily underneath his gaze.
Sanji gasped, delighted, and leaned down to get even closer, only to realize he still had his cigarette in his mouth. You watched, amused and in shock, as he pulled back enough to spit it out to the other side of the room before burying his face in your neck. A giggle escaped your lips, and you ignored the fact that what he did was a hazard (in hopes that the room wouldn’t catch on fire).
Your laugh soon turned into pleasant hums when he began peppering the skin of your neck with kisses. His fingers tangled in your hair, caressing it as if you were the most delicate being. You ran your hands up his back, feeling the soft fabric of the robe underneath your fingertips, just as he pulled back enough to gaze at you.
“Can I?” Sanji asked, focusing on your lips.
“Yes.”
It all seemed to be happening in slow motion. He softly pressed his lips against yours in a sweet first kiss, and it completely took your breath away. It was delicate, experimental, just lips pressing together, but it made you all the more weak.
As you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, Sanji pulled back only to press another kiss to your lips. And another. And another.
“Sanji!” Another giggle escaped you the more he kept on kissing you.
“Oh, baby! Sweetheart! I can’t believe I get to do this with you!” He exclaimed, trailing kisses down your jaw. When he sneaked one arm around your waist to play with the tie on your robe, he pulled away to look at you with pleading eyes. “Can I take this off?”
“You don’t have to ask every time, honey.” You replied with a smile.
“Okay, y-yeah, okay…”
With a peck to your lips, Sanji sat back between your legs as he undid your robe with nervous fingers.
You had forgotten that you had no underwear until the moment you saw his eyes bulged out of their sockets at the sight of your bare skin.
“No underwear?!” He cried out, covering his nose as blood splurted out. You only giggled in response; he was anything but dull.
With his hands on your hips, Sanji kept staring with a wide-eyed gaze, drinking in all your curves, in all your naked glory. Feeling a little self conscious, you tugged at his sleeve, urging him to do something.
“J-Just a minute, I wanna admire you a little longer…”
You scoffed, taking the opportunity to undo the tie on his robe while he leered. Once you opened it up, you licked your lips at the sight of his chiseled torso. It was your turn to stare as you softly ran your fingers down his chest and abdomen. There was a prominent bulge in his boxers that made that warm knot in your belly bloom. You were curious and more than eager to feel his cock in your hand.
Before you could pull down his underwear, Sanji pressed his body to yours. Squeezing your chest in his hands, he planted open mouth kisses on your cleavage.
“You’re the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He praised you as his lips wandered down your chest. “More beautiful than what I had imagined.”
You were about to ask him more about whatever scenario he had imagined prior to this, but his tongue licking one of your nipples emptied your mind. You moaned softly, arching your back when he wrapped his lips around it, eagerly suckling on your sensitive skin. A jolt of pleasure traveled up your spine as he pinched your other nipple, and you couldn’t help but spill all kinds of noises. He was definitely enthusiastic about you, groping, licking and sucking with a burning passion that made your body burn up underneath him.
It was insane how dripping wet you already were. Maybe you were the pervert; you felt like you were on fire just from him playing with your tits.
“I need to kiss every freckle on your soft skin.” Sanji trailed his lips down your abdomen, kissing around your belly button, ripping a breathy giggle from your mouth. He focused his eyes on your face with a grin. “The sounds you make! I can’t wait to hear more of your wonderful voice.”
You hated how good Sanji was with his praises, it was like he knew what you liked before you even told him anything.
Running his tongue down your lower abdomen, he grazed his teeth on your belly, making you squirm. You gasped when you felt his breath right above your pussy.
"I want to taste you so badly." Sanji pleaded, with a gleam in his eyes you’ve never seen before. Full of lust and almost desperate, serious, like he might die if you were to deny him such pleasure.
Sitting back on your elbows, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it back so you could see his pretty face and meet his gaze, and spread your legs enough to present your glistening lips for him to see how keen you were.
“Then do it.”
With a gasp, Sanji darted out his tongue, not wasting any time. You both moaned simultaneously, loud and lewd, when he drew a stripe with his tongue, from your pussy all the way up to your clit. Your hips jerked up in response, searching for more.
With a newfound confidence once he perceived your desire, he wrapped an arm around your abdomen, grabbing and kneading your belly as he dived in for more. Licking up your pussy again, tasting your arousal, he groaned wantonly. His mouth found your clit in an instant, and your hips bucked against the warmth of his lips. Bursts of pleasure pulsed through your body, making your thighs quiver with every lick and kiss he gave.
You tried to keep your eyes fixed on Sanji as he fervently ate you out, but his warm tongue and soft lips were making you roll your eyes back. Even he seemed to be lost in his own pleasure, groaning and humming as he slid his tongue over every inch of your pussy, like you were the first meal he had after wandering the dessert for years.
You threw your head back with a gasp when he plunged a finger inside you. Your hand twisted in his hair, pulling hard enough to let him know that you were beyond pleased with his actions. He moaned in the most sinful way, as if he was the one getting pleasured.
Have you discovered just how good Sanji was at giving head? You couldn’t believe your own luck the more he suckled on your clit, leaving you completely breathless. Once he added a second finger, curling them inside just right, you couldn’t control the desperate whine that spilled from your mouth. His touch added more to the knot in your abdomen, heat increasing more and more every time he pumped his fingers.
When he pulled his mouth away from you, you’d have protested if it wasn’t for the fact that his fingers still kept going, sliding in and out steadily as he pressed his thumb to your clit. You let go of his hair, holding onto his wrist instead, squeezing it hard when he stroked that sweet spot that made you see stars.
Sanji crawled back up to you, fingering you with a hard and fast rhythm, as he kissed your neck.
“Does it feel good, princess?” He breathed, gazing at you with eyes blown by lust.
“Yeah…” You replied, barely able to hold eye contact.
In your haze, you took the opportunity to reach inside his underwear and wrap your fingers around his cock. Sanji visibly shuddered and his fingers faltered inside your pussy. You couldn’t see it but his dick was warm, hard and wet with precum. It pleased you to know that you couldn’t wrap your hand around it. You moaned, desperately, once you felt him twitch enthusiastically in your fist.
“Fuck…” He cursed, kissing you promptly.
The kiss was full of unrestrained lust, tongue gliding inside your mouth as he moaned desperately. You accepted it, tasting yourself and the nicotine on his lips, getting even more wet, dripping your slick down his fingers.
You twisted your hand around his cock, slowly pumping it once, twice, before Sanji promptly stopped moving his hand to take a hold of your wrist.
“Wait-” He begged, breathing heavily. You thought you might have hurt him, but when he rested his forehead against yours, you knew better. “I’m gonna come if you keep going…”
With a chuckle, you kissed him again, soft and sweet.
“If that’s the case,” You pushed at his shoulders, sitting up. “Then, I wanna be on top.”
The look on his face was one of the funniest expressions you’ve ever seen in him (and he had done many during the years). He gaped at you with eyes close to popping out as soon as he heard your last words, and he didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. His disheveled hair was a nice addition, thanks to your own ministrations.
“Ye-Yeah, however you want me, sweetheart!” Sanji managed to get out, swiftly shrugging off his robe before lying down on the bed to let you do as you pleased.
You bit your lip, nervous and excited, as you took off your own robe. As you straddled him, you seized the chance to admire his naked body. Sturdy chest, defined abs with dips and curves that you traced with your fingertips. A wonderful cock, long, lean, flushed at the tip, and leaking precum. The thought of maybe sucking him off crossed your mind, but you figured it was better for the both of you to have him inside your pussy.
Hovering above him, you couldn’t wait anymore and quickly guided his length to your entrance. Sanji had prepped you well, and once the tip was pushed inside you, you both let out a relieved moan. In one slick motion, you slid his cock inside, taking him to the hilt.
You let out a stuttered whimper. The warmth that had grown in your lower abdomen felt close to bursting. Maybe you were close to your release sooner than you expected, too.
His hands gripped your hips firmly, chest heaving as he took in the view of your body on top of his. Sanji panted like a wounded animal, leering at you intensely. A very quiet curse ripped from his lips the longer you took to move. You lingered for a moment, hands bracing on his chest, reveling in the feeling of his dick, warm and twitching inside your pussy.
When his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, a fire lit up inside you. You rolled your hips experimentally, and the fullness of his dick made you dizzy.
“Oh my God…” Sanji moaned, low and desperate, sliding his hands down your legs to squeeze the fat of your thighs.
He held onto you like you might slip away and disappear any second. It made you feel all the more desirable, especially when he kept looking at you with wide eyes and his jaw hanging open.
Lifting your hips, you began bouncing yourself on his cock. The way it stretched you out, how hot it was to feel it pulsing inside you. It all made you lightheaded. You threw your head back with a cry, lost in your own pleasure.
Leaning back, bracing yourself with your hands on his thighs, you dragged out a moan when you felt the tip of his dick hit your cervix. It was a better angle, stroking your most sensitive spot, going even deeper than you thought was possible. Dropping your hips down on his thighs, you fucked yourself over and over, tits bouncing with your every move.
“Feels so good…” You breathed out, mind going blank with how good his cock was.
You had easily pushed shame and insecurity towards the back of your mind. Sanji’s dick was so good it made you forget whatever doubts you had, but also his words, his praises, his touch, they had smoothed over your edges, and you let yourself go.
When his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs, hard to the point of bruising, you gazed at him, and almost tumbled over when you noticed his nose was bleeding.
“Sanji!” You cried, worried and amused, as you reached for one of the robes.
“What…?” He asked, completely oblivious.
“You’re bleeding!”
You tried not to laugh at how funny he looked as he sat up; completely dazed, eyes wide open with hearts instead of pupils, and a full on nosebleed. His face was red as you pressed the fabric to his nose, snickering quietly.
“Keep it together, I don’t know how I would explain to the guys that you died like this!”
“Who cares?” Sanji grinned, squeezing your waist in appreciation. “I just couldn’t find the right words to describe your beauty, princess.”
“So you got a nosebleed instead?”
“Couldn’t be helped.” He shrugged when you discarded the robe to the side after cleaning up the blood.
“I left you speechless? That’s a first.” You teased him.
“You just drive me crazy, my love.”
Sanji promptly kissed you, holding tightly onto you as his cock fluttered inside your pussy, making your heart flutter as well. You moaned and returned the kiss with a smile, thighs quivering against his hips.
Grinding down on him, you tried to pick up the pace with the same intensity you had moments ago. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, steading yourself as he kissed your neck, groaning against your skin once you found your previous rhythm, hips swiftly slamming down.
With every roll of your hips, Sanji panted, gasped and grunted. The noises that slipped from his lips made you even wetter. The storm outside still rumbled with thunder, but it didn’t compare to the wet sounds of skin slapping against skin inside the room.
“You’re perfect.” The whine that escaped him gave away how completely lost he was in the warm sensation of your pussy. He held firmly onto you, grabbing and kneading your ass as you rode him.
You decided (maybe against your better judgement, but who could blame you when his thick cock was inside you?) to admit to something you had never said out loud.
“You feel better than what I imagined.” You moaned into his ear, low and sultry.
You felt the way Sanji tensed up underneath you, and you were pleased when he let out a nervous, breathy laughter that turned into a groan, like he couldn’t believe what you just confessed. As a reward, he sneaked his hand between your bodies to earnestly stroke your clit.
Shuddering at the sudden burst of pleasure, you dug your fingernails into his back, ripping a moan from his throat. His fingers had brought you closer to an orgasm before, and it would only take so long until you got there again. You wanted to make it last. You had been holding off for a while, trying to enjoy this moment for as long as you could, but you couldn’t contain it anymore.
When his hips bucked up into you, ramming his cock hard enough to reach the deepest spot inside, the warm knot in your abdomen snapped. Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. It completely overwhelmed you, like fire burning through your body. Your vision turned white as your toes curled and you quivered uncontrollably.
“Fuck, baby,” Sanji panted, staring at you, memorizing your expression as you came. “You’re so fucking beautiful.”
The way your pussy clenched bought him closer to the edge, and soon enough, he was groaning while his hips thrust up unsteadily.
“Where do I…?” He asked with an imploring gleam in his eyes, while he still retained some kind of common sense.
“Anywhere you want.”
You knew Sanji wouldn’t think of pulling out, and you didn’t want him to.
His hips stuttered when he came, a grunt ripping from his throat as he pumped out his load. His cock pulsed as his cum filled you to the brim, and you couldn’t help the whimper you let out, overstimulated from your recent orgasm.
“Fuck, thank you.” Sanji groaned against your neck, rolling his hips to ride out his bliss.
It was amusing and endearing that he was thanking you, you could only manage to stroke his hair as a response.
You yelped when Sanji tumbled backwards onto the bed, bringing you down with him, still keeping his arms tightly wrapped around you. His cock slipped out, making you both hiss as his cum leaked from your pussy, down your thighs.
His grip on you only loosened after a beat, and you pushed yourself off with wobbly arms to lie beside him. You were still trying to catch your breath when he turned to you, wrapping an arm around your waist.
“You’re so pretty when you come.” His words were warm as he squeezed your side, looking at you with so much affection that it made your heart skip several beats. “You’re beautiful all the time but… Thank you for letting me come inside you.”
His praises rolled out of his tongue like they would any other day, but even you could tell that he was being genuine, not the usual over the top compliments he gave when he was being dramatic. It captivated you all over again.
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” You said with a giggle, though your cheeks were warm with embarrassment.
Sanji planted a brief kiss on your lips that surprised you before he got off the bed. As you fluffed the pillow to get back to the shape it originally was before you fucked each other, he returned with a wet towel and a glass of water.
You gladly hydrated yourself as he cleaned you up. Your face got even hotter when you noticed how much he stared at your pussy, still oozing out a few drops of cum.
“Pervert.” You smiled in jest, poking the side of his head with your foot.
With a grin, Sanji caught your ankle, planting a kiss on your foot’s sole.
You giggled when he crawled up to you, putting the empty glass on the nightstand before kissing you softly. It was sweet, tongues gliding together as you hummed, cupping his face and caressing his cheeks, feeling his stubble with your fingertips. He ran his hands up and down your sides, kneading every curve of your body.
Afterwards, you laid in a somewhat comfortable silence, curling beside him as he lit up a cigarette while keeping an arm around your shoulders. It had been a while since you were intimate with anyone; you were utterly spent, muscles pleasantly aching, and a certain soreness beginning to grow between your legs.
You eyed him carefully as he took a long drag of his cigarette. You didn’t know how you’d be able to face him again and act normal after that night. You didn’t have a lot of experience, but you knew enough to reckon that Sanji had given you the best orgasm ever. Once the sun came out, whatever spell that was between the two of you would be broken. And you tried not to let panic settle in.
Sanji could probably feel your anxiety, or that’s what you thought when he suddenly kissed the top of your head.
“We can keep this to ourselves, if you’re uncomfortable.” He said, and you gazed up at him with a lot more hurt in your eyes than you’d like to admit. He could hardly miss that, and immediately went on. “Or… I’d be happy to do it again, my love, whenever and however you want me.”
You smiled, big and warm.
“You still have a lot of freckles I wanna count with my lips.” Sanji added with a grin, letting you know how much he still desired you. “I didn’t get the chance to complete that task, princess.”
“Well, then.” You leaned up, pressing a loud, mushy kiss to his lips. “Whenever and however I want you, you say?”
As the sun came out the next day and you woke up with his arms around your body, his lips on your shoulders, certainly doing the task of kissing your freckles, you realized that everything had been real.
By the way, I was dipping my toes into a new fandom, all innocent and without giving it too much thought, and then I read this and got swallowed whole.
I'm honestly soooo intrigued and curious about the story you're creating in a mutually beneficial arrangement, I hope you add more to the series because i'm eating it all up 😋😋😋
Ahhh you're so sweet! It'll probably be a minute until I write something new because I am in the "oh yeah? FUCK you"-phase of my cycle and that's not great for smut.
HOWEVER, I've been rolling some ideas around in my head. I just gotta see how I can tie them in with the existing series, this Sanji has really grown on me 🥺
I was thinking, maybe something from Sanji's POV? Something fluffy perhaps? Maybe some sex pollen? Fake dating? Maybe we'll add another person?? SO MANY OPTIONS ✨️
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Word count: 3 K
Tags: smut, MDNI, jealousy, toxic relationship?, former lovers, dirty talk, rough sex, spanking, biting, hair pulling
A/N: SO. I guess I'm a One Piece girlie now. It is what it is. This is the first time I'm writing a character I haven't studied as obsessively as my usual suspects, but here we are.
In my head, this reader is the same one as in Live to serve, she doesn't have to be though and this fic works perfectly fine on its own. Just know she's getting some serious Worst-Generation-dick.
Law's stomach turns when he sees the jolly roger wafting in the wind, the unmistakable straw-hat-skull grinning at him from across the ocean. He knew the day would probably come, now that it's here he doesn't feel like he's prepared for it. Or that he'd ever be ready to face you again after you decided to join Luffy's crew.
He's on edge all day, constantly scanning the periphery to see if he catches a glance of you, he knows he's being unreasonably harsh with his crew, but he just can't help it. And when he sees Usopp and Franky sitting outside of the tavern his crew chose to spend the evening at, he knows the moment he would have loved to avoid is finally upon him.
Most of his crew are already inside when he slowly pushes the creaky door open, sitting at a table near the entrance. He doesn't really look at them as he sinks down in an empty chair next to Bepo, his gaze is wandering over all the other patrons, quickly finding the loud table further in with the small reindeer and green-haired swordsman sitting at it. His jaw tightens.
Right next to Zoro, back turned to him, there you are. Leaning over the table, talking to your friends, and – of course – a hand, belonging to the Straw Hats’ pervert cook, wandering over your ass. Law freezes, knowing this is the better option instead of getting up to punch Black Leg Sanji in the face. He stares at you without blinking, and, as if you felt it, you turn around.
He notices how the cook's hand travels up your stomach, pulling you even closer into him, pilfering fingers grazing that soft, beautiful skin of yours as if he owned you. It makes his blood boil. Sanji’s not supposed to be touching you like this. Nobody is. It annoys him.
All air leaves his body when your gaze locks with him. He can see your eyes going wide, that gorgeous smile of yours spreading over your face as you recognize him. You cock your head in that way that makes him want to bite your neck, and you wave. Law looks at you for a second longer, then turns the other way, pretending to join the conversation that's been happening on the other side of him.
A couple of hours later, the evening is becoming livelier by the minute. People are eating, drinking, having fun, except for Law who's not only been miserable but also doing a terrible job hiding it. His crewmates know not to take his monosyllabic demeanor personally, and he's thankful for that. He becomes even more annoyed when you start making your way over to the Heart Pirates' table, first to make conversation with Penguin and Shachi, but then, even though he tries to ignore you away, he feels your hand between his shoulder blades.
“Law.”
Your voice is as sweet as he remembers it, and hearing you say his name stirs something deep inside him. He doesn't like it. Doesn't like the power you apparently still hold over him. When he responds by greeting you with yours, the sound makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It's been a while since he's said it out loud.
He turns to look at you, and you're so much prettier up this close. A tidal wave of memories crashes down over him, he can see the scenes playing out before his inner eye. How lost and vulnerable you looked when you first met on Sabaody, how he and the crew took you in, nursed you back to health. How he had quickly become intoxicated with you, your brilliant mind, your delectable taste, how he had almost forgotten about his dreams and responsibilities because he was so wrapped up in you. And then, of course, how you had mutually decided you couldn't be together anymore. For the sake of his destiny. For the sake of his crew. How you left because you knew you'd destroy each other if you stayed close.
He had heard that you had become a member of the straw hats after that. He just didn't want to believe it. But now, with you staring straight into his soul again after all this time, he had no other choice. “Great,” he answers through gritted teeth as you ask him how he's doing. He doesn't reciprocate. He's not sure he wants to hear how great life is on the Thousand Sunny. He had thought he had moved on, but apparently, he was wrong. Seeing you like this, unbothered and being touched in such an intimate way by another man had made a green-eyed monster awaken in his chest.
“Walk with me,” you say, and for a second, he just wants to tell you off. He doesn't need this. Doesn't need you. And still, he gets up from his chair, wordlessly, moves to step outside the crowded tavern. He can feel the eyes of his crew mates burn holes into the back of his head. He doesn't care.
The early evening air is cool and refreshing. The first couple of stars start showing themselves, a pleasant breeze rustles through the nearby trees. Your shoulder brushes against his arm as you walk past him. You act like it doesn't mean anything. But he knows it does.
You set a quick pace, don't look back to see if he's following you. You probably know that he doesn't have it in him not to follow. How very rude of you. With a couple of long strides, he catches up to you. And then the two of you walk. In silence.
You pass restaurants, shops about to close, then houses with people sitting in front of them, enjoying the weather and each other's company. When the road starts winding up a hill, the housing becomes more scarce. The paved road turns into gravel for a while, and when you stroll past a farm the gravel turns into rocks.
And then, just like that, maybe because the hill is getting steeper, or maybe because you just want to see what it does to him, a small huff leaves you. Nothing indecent per se, but it immediately sends him back to all the times he took your breath away, when you moaned under him. It makes him freeze. He looks at you, and, when you stop in your tracks as well, you look back at him. For a beat, you just stare at each other, both ready to pounce, static crackling in the air between you.
“Come on, Law. This is stupid. You can still ta—”
Law grabs your hand. And then yanks you along in the direction of the open shed a couple of feet away. You stumble inside, him still tugging you along, catching yourself as he throws the door shut behind you. He plants himself in front of you, towering over your smaller form. The way you're looking up at him makes the predator inside him roar.
“What do you want?”
You look surprised when the question bursts out of him. And then, beneath the surprise, appears that cheekiness. The confidence, the preeminence he fell in love with all that time ago. He knows exactly what you want. And he's going to give it to you. Because he wants it every bit as much.
“Law, I—”
“Tell me.” He feels like his body moves on his own when he steps even closer to you, crowding you against a beam that's conveniently right behind your back. His hand shoots up, gripping your upper arm. Pulling you close to him as his thumb tentatively strokes over your skin.
You chuckle. Look up at him with those big doe eyes, teeth grazing your lower lip as you do that thing with your head again. Making yourself vulnerable in front of him so he only needs to lean in and take a bite. He can already feel his pants getting tighter.
“Make me.”
Law's mouth crashes into yours without any further warning. The hand that's not on your arm shoots to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair as he pulls you in to devour you. He doesn't wonder if he might have misread the situation. He can feel you smiling into his open mouth even though he's almost gnawing your face off, and you're kissing him back every bit as fervently as he's kissing you.
With sloppy kisses, he starts trailing over your jaw, down to your neck, to that spot where your scent is the most vivid. He bites down on it, making you squeal. You resist for a second, then let yourself go soft in his embrace again. Moan at him sucking his mark into your skin.
“Does he satisfy you?” Law pushes you back into the beam, dust trickles down as it creaks. Your faces are only inches apart, but he can see your lips are already red and puffy from that violent display of lust just seconds ago, from his beard scratching all over your face. Your breath hitches as he smoothly slips a hand under your shirt, finds your nipple with practiced ease, twists it until you gasp.
“Who?”
“Don't play dumb. The cook, does he satisfy you?”
“He's a great chef. I never go hungry.”
Law chuckles. He's missed this banter with you. He liked how you always kept his mind sharp.
“You know that's not what I mean.”
With the hand that's not rolling your nipple between thumb and index, he pulls your shirt down, lowers his head to suck on the other bud. Takes it between his teeth. Tiptoeing just on that line between pleasure and pain. You moan, having an increasingly hard time forming coherent sentences, but you're still not giving up.
“Then what do you mean?”
He lets you slip free with a wet plop, straightens up to look you deep in the eyes. Then he goes back to kissing your jaw with so much ardor you have to turn your head to the side, and he whispers in your ear.
“Come on. It's obvious that you're fucking. The way he had his hands all over you? You don't let people do that if you're not getting something out of it.”
“Oh, you noticed that, huh?” Law smirks at how weak your voice suddenly sounds. Must be all the making out, or him tweaking your nipple, or maybe it's his thigh that he's firmly pressing between your legs.
“‘Course I did. So tell me. Is he any good?”
Law bites your neck again, splays his fingers under your shirt. Gets a proper feel of all of the soft flesh of your breast.
“...the best.”
He pauses, then huffs.
“The best?”
You nod.
“He's so good to me, you don't even know half of the sounds he coaxes out of me.”
Law leans back. Looks at you and your smug, pretty face. Then, without a warning, he lifts you up with one arm, shambles a sturdy wooden crate that's a couple of feet away to the place you were just standing in, puts you back down on it. He swirls you around a little faster than he meant to, almost making you lose balance, but you catch yourself with your hands on the beam. Ass sticking out. Perfect.
“Hm. So how does he do that?”
Law kicks your legs apart with his knee. Then he yanks your skirt and panties down. He could have just lifted the skirt up, pulled your underwear aside. He likes it better like this. You eagerly kick the pieces of fabric away, position yourself arching your back at him.
“Well, first of all, he takes his time.”
He decides to reward your sass with a good old spanking. You whine as his broad hand connects with your skin.
“I have a ship to run, time is a luxury I can't afford.”
He smacks you again, then runs his hand over your ass. Squeezes, not wasting any time before he finds your wetness. Unceremoniously, he pushes two fingers in. And he's happy to notice that you're way wetter than you'd ever admit.
“He'll make me come before even thinking about getting his cock out.” Your breathing is starting to become more ragged, you clench around his fingers as Law scissors you open with surgical precision. He adds a third finger. It'll make it easier for you to take his cock if you're nice and open already.
“He's all selfless, huh? Only thinks about your pleasure?”
“You have no idea.”
His fingers make a filthy squelching sound as he pulls them out, he spreads your slick all over your entrance. Then he unbuckles his belt, lets his pants drop to the floor as his achingly hard cock springs free. He shakes his head at your words. He absolutely does care about your pleasure. But Law's not trying to spoil you. He wants to ruin you.
“Tell me what he does to you,” he says as he teases the throbbing head of his cock along your slit.
“He always starts by eating me out. Gets his face all up in my pussy, I sometimes worry he'll suffocate from how thoroughly he eats me out. He does this thing where he sucks—”
Your voice falters when his hand smacks down on your ass again, a low, pained moan almost getting stuck in your throat.
“You were saying?”
“Nevermind.”
He laughs, guides his tip through your folds, enjoying how you're pushing your ass in his direction and him holding the power to hold off on finally giving you what you're too proud to say.
“Come on. Don't get shy now. What else does he do?” Another sharp slap on your ass, he can slowly start seeing the imprint his hand is leaving. You mewl in pleasure.
“He… he makes sure he gives every inch of my body the same amount of attention. He'll kiss me. Tell me how beautiful I am. Sanji doesn't fuck. He makes love.”
“Mh. Is that how you like it now?” He lines himself up to you, but recoils as you desperately try to push yourself down on him. “Slow and gentle?”
He runs his hands over your hips, feeling the goosebumps his fingers cause to appear and then, with one deep, hard thrust, sinks into you.
“Mh-hm.” Your head drops forward, but you keep your back arched. You're already a mess and he hasn't even really get started yet. “It's just so nice to get… pampered… like that.”
You make a point out of finishing the sentence, even though you're being rocked into the beam so hard with every single one of his thrusts that all air leaves your lungs.
“Oh yeah? And is that why you're dripping all over my cock while I'm fucking you against the wall in a goddamn barn?”
The sound you make is somewhere on the whiny side between a moan and a laugh, and the quick and dirty rhythm he set falters big time as he feels you clenching down on him with your pussy.
“You don't like it gentle.”
“But I do.”
You twitch around him.
“You like to get railed. Properly.”
He watches, mesmerized, as his cock keeps disappearing inside you, coming back out glistening from your juices.
“I like it when you rail me.”
Law groans. There's nothing else he can say to that, he's already about to burst, so he just drills into you with the urgency you've told him you liked so many times. He knows he's not going to last very long today, but that's okay. You're close, too. He can feel your heart working overtime, and he knows exactly how to interpret those tiny muscle spasms ripping through you that keep continuously increasing in frequency.
There's just one more thing he needs from you. His voice is strained when he says your name, and for a second he worries it's come out softer than he meant to. Not that you'd judge him for it. He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulls just enough so you have to turn your head to look at him.
“And tell me, does he make you scream his name?”
You smile. Let your eyes flutter shut as you blissfully sigh at the ecstasy he's making you feel.
“He doesn't. He makes me moan it.”
“Thought so.”
He lets go of your hair, reaches over to your mouth. You gladly part your lips, suck on the two digits he offers you. He pulls them from your mouth when they're coated in spit, then reaches down between your legs to start rubbing circles around your clit.
“Fuck…”
You're so sensitive already, he barely has to do anything other than keeping his movements steady.
“Come on. Do it.”
Still, he speeds up. Pulls you into him with the one hand that remains on your hips, buries himself to the hilt over and over again.
“F— I'm gonna…”
He bends forward, whispers in your ear.
“Do it.”
The reaction is immediate. You cry out, thighs quivering, breath stuttering as the orgasm rips through you.
“Fuck. Yes. Law. Please, I need you so bad—”
He smiles. Finally.
“There we go.”
He closes his eyes, thrusting steadily to let you ride out your high for as long as he can before your pussy squeezing around his length becomes unbearable and he allows himself to fall as well.
His hips stutter as he comes deep inside you, holds you still, makes you take all of his release. He only moves when your legs actually give in, steadies you even though he feels like lying down himself. He cleans you up best as he can using your discarded panties. You’re probably going to have to throw them out. He didn't like that pair anyway.
When you're decent again, Law holds you at an arm's length, looks you up and down. Checks every inch of your body for bruises, any sign of something that might have made you uncomfortable. Proudly traces a thumb over the bite marks on your neck. You're gonna have to wear your hair differently to hide them. Or put on a scarf. Whatever, not his problem. You knew what you were bargaining for.
He cups your cheek, pulls you in for a last kiss. “You're beautiful.”
You smile into his lips. “Shut up, Law.”
For a brief second, he considers telling you that he loves you. But he knows that it wouldn't change a thing. Both of you already got what you needed. To let that old flame that burned so brightly consume you once again. Just for a moment.
Law came back to the cabin looking like someone had carefully removed every working part of him and left the attitude behind out of spite.
He shut the door with his heel, Kikoku still in hand, hat low over his eyes. His shoulders were tight. His jaw was worse. There was blood on his sleeve that probably wasn’t his, which meant he would ignore it until someone else made it inconvenient.
You were already on his bed with one of his blankets over your legs, reading a book you had stopped pretending to care about twenty minutes ago.
“You look charming,” you said.
Law gave you a flat look. “Don’t start.”
“That bad?”
He set Kikoku against the wall with too much care. “No.”
So yes.
You put the book aside and stood. He watched you like he expected you to ask him what happened, and you didn’t. You just took his hat off, placed it on the desk, and reached up to push your fingers through his hair.
For a second, he stayed perfectly still, then his eyes shut.
“You’re eating,” you said.
“I’m not hungry.”
“You’re eating.”
“I’m your captain.”
“And I’m very impressed. Sit down.”
His mouth twitched like he wanted to argue, but he was too tired to make it worth the effort. He sat on the edge of the bed while you brought him the bowl from the little warmer you had stolen from the galley. Rice, broth, fish. Nothing fancy. Nothing heavy.
Law stared at it. “You poisoned this?”
“I considered it, but Bepo looked sad.”
“Mm. Weak.”
You sat beside him and held the bowl until he took it. He ate slowly at first, like he was doing it only to shut you up. You kept your fingers in his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp between pauses, and the longer you did it, the more his posture sank.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
Enough for you.
There were entire confessions in the way Law accepted being touched without making a miserable comment about it.
When the bowl was empty, you took it from him and placed it aside. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, face hidden in his hands. You kept stroking his hair.
Neither of you said anything for a while.
The Polar Tang hummed around you, deep and steady under the sea. The sound filled the room, safer than silence, gentler than the things neither of you wanted to name.
Eventually he turned his head just enough that his cheek rested against your thigh.
You looked down at him. “That’s new.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re cuddling my leg.”
“I’m resting.”
“On me.”
“Mm.”
You smiled, but you didn’t tease him further. Your fingers slid through his hair again, slower now, nails barely touching his scalp. He exhaled through his nose, quiet and rough.
It should not have felt intimate, but it did.
He turned his face slightly, and his lips brushed the inside of your wrist.
You stopped breathing for half a second.
His eyes opened, sharp even half-dead with exhaustion. For a moment, he looked at your wrist like he hadn’t meant to do that. Like his body had moved before his control returned.
Then, because he was impossible, he did it again.
A warmer kiss.
Your fingers tightened in his hair. “Law.”
“Problem?”
His voice was low, tired, almost bored. You hated him a little. “No.”
“Then stop looking offended.”
“I’m not offended.”
“You look like you’re trying to decide whether to hit me or climb me.”
You stared at him. He looked back, deadpan, mouth barely curved.
“You’re the worst man alive.”
“Probably.”
Then he kissed your palm. Not quickly. Not as a joke. His mouth pressed there like he was testing your pulse, your patience, both.
Heat crawled up your arm.
He pulled back just enough to look at you properly. His eyes were dark, shadowed from lack of sleep, but clearer now. More present. More dangerous in the quiet way.
“You’re still thinking too loudly,” he murmured.
“I’m thinking you should sleep.”
“I was.”
“You were kissing my hand.”
“Multitasking.”
You laughed under your breath, and something in his face changed. He reached for you then, one hand closing around your hip, and pulled you down with him under the blanket. It was clumsy only because he was exhausted. Law being clumsy felt illegal.
You ended up half beside him, half on him, your knee between his legs, his arm around your waist. The blanket slipped over both of you, trapping heat fast.
“This is a terrible sleeping position,” you said.
“Then leave.”
His hand spread over your back and held you there.
You looked down at him. “You are very bad at bluffing.”
“I’m excellent at bluffing.”
“You’re literally holding me hostage.”
“You’re not resisting.”
Fair.
His mouth found your wrist again, then your forearm, slow little kisses that did not match the sharpness of his face at all. You watched him do it, feeling each one settle lower in your stomach.
Comfort turned strange that way. One moment you were keeping him together. The next, his lips were on your skin and the air was too warm and his hand had slipped beneath the back of your shirt.
His fingers were ice cold.
Law’s mouth twitched against your arm. “Sensitive?”
“Your hands are freezing.”
“I’m a doctor.”
“That explains nothing.”
“It explains enough.”
His hand flattened against your lower back, then slid up, warmer now from your skin. He touched you like he was still trying not to ask for anything. Like he could make this practical if he moved carefully enough.
You leaned down and kissed him.
That broke the last useful thought in the room.
He kissed back slowly at first, his mouth firm and tired, one hand cupping the back of your neck. Then your fingers tugged lightly in his hair and he made a sound so low you almost missed it.
You didn‘t miss the way his grip tightened.
“Do that again,” he said against your mouth.
You smiled. “Ask nicer.”
His eyes opened. Exhausted, half-wrecked, still somehow arrogant enough to ruin your life. “You’re warm, fed, and in my bed,” he said. “Don’t get ambitious.”
“You dragged me here.”
“I made a medical decision.”
“Was kissing my palm also medical?”
“Your circulation looked poor.”
You laughed, and he kissed you harder to shut you up.
His hand slid under your shirt again, and this time he didn’t stop at your back. His palm moved over your waist, your ribs, then higher, dragging heat after it. He gave you just enough time to pull away. His thumb brushed under your breast, light enough to be cruel.
Your breath caught.
Law’s mouth paused against yours. “Still fine?” he asked, quiet now.
You nodded once.
His eyes narrowed. “Words.”
“Yes,” you said. “Still fine.”
Then his hand covered you properly, and the sound that left you was embarrassingly soft.
He kissed your jaw, your throat, the spot below your ear, while his thumb moved slowly over your nipple through the thin fabric. Not rushed. Not sloppy. Precise enough to make your hips shift without permission.
His thigh slid between yours under the blanket, pressing up just enough to make you tense.
You broke the kiss with a shaky breath. “Law.”
“I know.”
That was the problem. He always knew.
His hand left your chest and slid down over your stomach. Slow. Warm now. His fingers traced the waistband of your shorts like he was considering the most annoying possible way to take you apart.
You grabbed his wrist. He stopped immediately. For half a second, his face went still. Careful. Too careful. Then you guided his hand lower.
“Brat,” he murmured.
“You were taking too long.”
“I was being considerate.”
“You were being evil.”
“That too.”
His fingers slipped beneath the fabric.
Your whole body went hot.
Law watched your face as he touched you over your panties first, slow pressure between your thighs, finding the wet warmth there. His mouth parted slightly, the smallest crack in his composure.
“You’re soaked,” he said, low.
Your face burned. “Don’t sound surprised.”
“I’m not.”
“You sound proud.”
“I am.”
You should have had a comeback. You did not. Because his fingers moved, and the blanket made everything worse. The heat. The closeness. The tiny space where every breath hit his mouth and every movement rubbed your body against his. His hand stayed steady between your thighs, stroking you through the damp fabric, watching you try not to fall apart too quickly.
“You’re quiet now,” he said.
“I hate you.”
“Mm. Of course.”
His fingers pushed your panties aside and your nails dug into his shoulder.
He exhaled once, controlled but rough, when he felt you bare. His fingers slid through you slowly, gathering slick heat before circling your clit with the kind of patience that made you want to bite him.
You buried your face against his neck.
He let you for exactly three seconds, then his free hand caught your jaw and tilted your face back. “Don’t hide.”
“You are annoying.”
“You knew that already.” His fingers circled again, a little firmer, and your hips rocked into his hand.
That made his eyes drop. There was something devastatingly hot about him like this. Still tired. Still half-dressed. Still acting like he had control while his breathing slowly betrayed him. His hair was messy from your fingers. His shirt was wrinkled. His gaze kept moving between your face and the shape of your body shifting under the blanket.
He touched you like he had all the time in the world. Like the world outside his cabin had finally shut up.
When one finger slipped inside you, your breath snapped.
Law kissed the corner of your mouth. “There?”
You nodded.
“Words.”
“Yes.”
His mouth brushed yours. “Good.”
He worked you open slowly, one finger at first, then two, his palm pressed against your clit with every shallow thrust. Not rough. Not gentle either. Intentional. The kind of touch that made your thighs tighten around his wrist.
“You’re making this difficult,” he muttered.
You laughed breathlessly. “For you?”
“For my self-control.”
Your eyes opened, and for once you caught him before he could hide it. The hunger in his face. The strain in his jaw. The way his hips had shifted closer without him seeming to notice.
“Oh,” you whispered.
“Don’t.”
“You’re turned on.”
His stare went flat. “Excellent medical deduction.”
“You’re really turned on.”
“You want me to stop?”
“No.”
“Then stop talking.”
But you felt him against your thigh now, hard and hot through his clothes, and the knowledge made your body clench around his fingers.
Law inhaled. His eyes sharpened. “You did that on purpose.”
“I didn’t.”
“Liar.”
His fingers curled inside you.
You gasped, hand flying to his shoulder, and his mouth found your throat again. He kissed you there messily now, less controlled, teeth grazing skin as his fingers kept their slow, ruthless pace.
Under the blanket, your hips moved against his hand. His palm rubbed your clit every time his fingers pushed deeper. You were hot everywhere, trapped between his body and the blanket and his voice near your ear.
“You’re close,” he said.
You hated how calm he sounded.
You hated more that he was right. “Shut up.”
“Very close.”
“Law.”
“Mm.”
A laugh broke out of you, shaky and breathless, and he kissed it straight from your mouth. His fingers moved faster then. Just enough. The angle changed, his thumb pressing directly against your clit, and your body went tight.
You grabbed his hair and he groaned, not a neat little sound. Not controlled. Low, rough, dragged out of him before he could stop it.
That was what pushed you over.
You came against his hand with your face pressed into his neck, trying to keep quiet and failing in small, broken sounds. Law held you through it, fingers slowing but not stopping too fast, his mouth at your temple, his voice low and close.
“There,” he murmured. “That’s it.”
Your whole body shuddered.
“You’re evil,” you whispered again, weaker this time.
His lips brushed your hair. “You keep saying that.”
“Because it keeps being true.”
He was quiet for a moment. His fingers slipped out of you slowly, and you felt the loss of them in a way that made your stomach twist. Then he pulled back just enough to look at you.
The exhaustion was still there, but underneath it was something rawer. Needier. Law, caught between wanting to pretend he was unaffected and being very obviously affected.
You looked down. His belt was still fastened. His shirt still buttoned. He looked unfairly composed for someone who had just ruined you with his hand. “That seems unbalanced,” you said.
His mouth twitched. “You’re recovering fast.”
“I’m talented.”
“You’re annoying.”
“You’re hard.”
The silence after that was deeply satisfying. Law stared at you.
You smiled.
For once, he did not have an immediate answer. Then his hand caught your waist and pulled you closer until your thigh pressed between his legs. He shut his eyes for one second, jaw flexing.
You moved against him lightly.
He sucked in a breath.
“Oh,” you said softly. “Sensitive?”
His eyes opened. “Careful.”
“No.”
“No?”
You reached down between you and worked his belt open under the blanket. Your fingers were less elegant than his, mostly because your hands were still shaking. Law watched you struggle for three seconds before looking personally offended.
“You’re going to break it.”
“I am not.”
“You’re attacking it.”
“It’s dark under here.”
“It’s a belt, not an enemy.”
“Help or shut up.”
He huffed a tired laugh and helped, undoing it with one hand like an irritating show-off. You pushed his pants open just enough to slip your hand inside.
The moment your fingers wrapped around him, his entire body went still.
He was hot in your hand, hard and heavy, and the sound he made when you stroked him once was almost silent. Almost.
You kissed his jaw. “There?”
His eyes cut to yours. “Don’t start.”
You stroked him again, slower, and his forehead dropped briefly against yours.
That shut both of you up.
The room got quiet except for breathing. Yours uneven. His controlled until it wasn’t. Your hand moved beneath the blanket, fingers sliding over him, learning what made his mouth tighten, what made his hips shift, what made his grip on your waist go almost too firm before he forced himself to ease up.
He was beautiful like this in the worst way. Still trying to hold himself together while letting you touch him. Still trying to be Law about it, even with his breath breaking against your mouth.
You kissed him softly.
He kissed back harder. His hand returned between your thighs, slick fingers finding you again, and you jolted. “You’re sensitive,” he murmured.
“I just came.”
His mouth curved faintly. “You’re welcome.”
You squeezed him in warning.
His smugness died immediately.
Worth it.
He groaned against your mouth, hips pushing into your hand before he could stop himself. His fingers pressed against your clit again, slower now, less calculated, more distracted. That made it hotter. Law losing precision because your hand was around his cock felt like something you should put in a museum.
A terrible museum.
For horrible people.
You moved together under the blanket, messy in a quiet way. Your hand stroking him. His fingers rubbing you. His mouth dragging over yours, then your cheek, then your throat. Neither of you fully undressed. Neither of you needed to. It felt almost more intimate like this, half-hidden and overheated, clinging to each other in the small private dark.
His voice dropped near your ear. “Can you come again?”
Your stomach clenched. “Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“You’re very demanding for a man I fed rice to.”
His laugh was barely there, rough and low. “Answer.”
“Yes.”
His hand changed pace.
He kissed your cheek like he was pleased with himself and too tired to pretend otherwise.
The second time built slower, deeper, your body still oversensitive from the first. He kept touching you like he knew exactly how much you could take, while your hand grew slick around him from his own precum. His breathing got worse. His jaw pressed against your temple. His hips started moving into your fist in short, restrained thrusts.
“Law,” you whispered.
His fingers stilled for half a second. Not stopped. Checked.
You nodded quickly against him. “Keep going.”
He did. Your legs tightened around his hand again. The blanket had slipped down to your hips, but neither of you cared. Your shirt was pushed up. His pants were open. Everything was too warm, too close, too much.
And still, somehow, soft.
Because his other hand was in your hair. Because his mouth kept brushing your forehead between kisses.
Because even while he was touching you like he wanted to ruin you, he held you like something precious he would rather die than name.
You came again with a broken little sound against his mouth.
This time Law followed almost immediately. His body went tense, his hand closing hard around your hip as he came into your fist with a rough, muffled groan. His face pressed into your neck, breath hot against your skin. For a few seconds, he did not move at all.
You held him through it, fingers gentle now.
His breathing slowly evened out. “Messy.”
You laughed, exhausted and warm. “That’s your first comment?”
“It’s accurate.”
“You’re romantic.”
“I’m tired.”
“You came on my hand.”
“You were involved.”
“You’re stupid.”
His mouth brushed your shoulder. “You’ve said that too.”
“And I’ll keep saying it.”
He shifted carefully, cleaned you both up with a towel from beside the bed. He was efficient about it, but his touch had gone softer. Almost shy, if Law could ever be accused of such a thing without committing murder.
When he settled back down, he pulled the blanket over you both again. You ended up against his chest, your leg tangled with his, your hand resting over his ribs. His heartbeat was slower now. Heavy. Human. He held your wrist for a while, thumb moving over the inside of it.
You thought he was asleep.
Then he murmured, “You’re still not allowed to tell anyone I cuddled you.”
“You didn’t cuddle me.”
“Good.”
“You medically restrained me under a blanket and then got me off twice.”
His chest moved with a quiet laugh. “Accurate.”
You smiled against him, boneless and warm. After a long silence, his hand slid up to the back of your head. He held you there, not tightly. Just enough.
“Thank you,” he said.
It was so quiet you almost pretended not to hear it.
You kissed the side of his throat. “Anytime, Captain.”
“Don’t call me that in bed.”
“Oh, you like it.”
“I don‘t like it.”
“You’re lying.”
He sighed, but his arm tightened around you.
Later, he woke you up with his mouth already against your neck and his hand flat on your stomach.
Not soft. Not sweet. Possessive and warm, his fingers spread under your shirt like he had been holding you there for a while and had only just decided to make it your problem.
You opened your eyes into the dark cabin.
Everything hummed low around you. The walls were thin. Too thin. Somewhere outside, metal creaked, pipes clicked, and the ship sounded alive in the worst possible way.
Law’s mouth moved against your skin. “You awake?” he murmured.
You swallowed. “No.”
His teeth grazed the side of your neck. “Liar.”
You shifted back against him just enough to feel him hard behind you.
His hand stopped moving. For one long second, neither of you breathed right, then his fingers tightened at your waist. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“You’re bad at it.”
“You woke me up.”
“You moved first.”
“You were touching me first.”
His mouth brushed your ear. “I was checking your pulse.”
“At my waist?”
“You’re alive, aren’t you?”
You almost laughed, but then his hand slid lower, over your hip, dragging you back against him with enough pressure to make your breath catch.
Law heard it. His voice dropped, mean and quiet. “Careful.”
You turned your face halfway toward him. “Or what?”
That was the mistake. His hand came up and covered your mouth before you could say anything else. Firm. Just enough to remind you exactly where you were, exactly who slept outside that door, exactly how much trouble you were in.
“Or you’ll wake someone,” he murmured. “And I’ll make you explain why you can’t behave.”
Your stomach tightened hard. His eyes caught yours in the dark. “Yeah,” he said, too calm. “That’s what I thought.”
You made a muffled sound against his palm.
Law’s mouth twitched. “Still mouthy. Impressive.”
Then he moved. The blanket shifted over both of you as he slid down your body, disappearing beneath it. Heat flooded your face before his hands even reached your thighs.
“Law,” you whispered.
His answer came from under the blanket, low and dry. “Lower.”
Your fingers twisted in the sheets. “Law.”
“Better.”
His hands pushed your thighs apart, not gently, not cruelly. Just with that controlled strength that made your body obey before your pride could complain. His mouth pressed to the inside of your thigh first, slow and hot, then higher.
You grabbed the blanket. He kissed you once over the thin fabric of your panties. You jolted.
He huffed against you. “Sensitive.”
“You’re annoying.”
His fingers hooked into the waistband and dragged it down just enough. “Still talking.” Then his mouth was on you.
Your head fell back into the pillow, breath breaking immediately.
He did not ease into it. He ate you out like he had woken up starving and decided manners were a disease. His hands gripped your thighs under the blanket, holding you open while his tongue dragged through you slow, then deep, then mean. He was quiet about it except for the low sound in his throat when he tasted how wet you were.
The sound alone almost ruined you, so you bit your knuckle.
One hand left your thigh and pushed your wrist away. His fingers laced with yours instead, pinning your hand beside your hip under the blanket.
“No hiding,” he murmured against you.
“Then let me be loud.”
His mouth paused. The silence under the blanket felt dangerous. Then he gave a low, humorless laugh.
“You really want to embarrass yourself that badly?”
Your whole body burned.
He didn’t wait for an answer. His mouth returned to you, hotter, wetter, filthier. His tongue circled your clit with awful patience before he sucked lightly, just enough to make your hips jerk into his face.
His grip turned bruising. “Don’t move.”
“You’re under the blanket eating me out,” you whispered, breathless. “And you’re giving orders?”
His eyes flicked up from between your thighs. Even in the dark, you felt that stare.
“Yes.”
Then he lowered his mouth again and made you regret being funny.
You were close too fast. Embarrassingly fast. It climbed sharp and hot through your stomach, your legs shaking around his shoulders, your fingers gripping his hair beneath the blanket. He groaned when you pulled, and the vibration went straight through you.
“Law—”
Voices passed outside.
Both of you froze. You stopped breathing. Law went still between your legs, mouth still close enough that you could feel every exhale against your soaked skin.
Two crew members walked past the door, speaking quietly. Too close. Too awake.
You stared at the ceiling, one hand clamped over your own mouth.
Under the blanket, Law’s fingers dug into your thighs.
The voices slowed. For one horrible second, you thought they would stop. Then the footsteps continued down the corridor. Their voices faded. The ship hummed again. Silence settled.
Law did not move for another few seconds, then his mouth pressed one slow kiss to the inside of your thigh.
You whispered, shaky and furious, “You didn’t let me finish.”
He emerged from under the blanket just enough for you to see his face. His mouth was wet. His hair was a mess. His eyes were dark in that flat, devastating way that made him look meaner than he actually was.
“I wasn’t trying to make you finish.”
Your brain stalled. “Huh?”
His hand slid up your thigh. “I wanted to taste you.”
You stared at him. He looked completely serious.
“Do you ever hear yourself?”
“Unfortunately.”
“You’re disgusting.”
His mouth curved faintly. “You’re wet.”
You had no response ready for that. He kissed your stomach once, over your shirt, then climbed over you with an efficiency that should not have been attractive. His hand caught your hip.
“Turn over.”
Your pulse jumped. “Ask nicely.”
Law’s eyes narrowed. Then he leaned in, mouth beside your ear. “Turn over before I decide you don’t get to come at all.”
You huffed and turned. Fast enough that you heard him exhale a quiet laugh behind you.
“Asshole.”
“I’m about to fuck you into the mattress and you’re still insulting me.”
“You started it.”
“I’m going to finish it.”
He pushed you flat onto your stomach, hand between your shoulder blades, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to keep you there. Your legs were pressed together beneath him, thighs tight, body stretched out under the blanket. He straddled them from behind, knees bracketing your legs, trapping you in place with his weight.
The position made you feel pinned before he even touched you.
It made you quiet.
Law noticed that too. His palm slid down your spine, slow, possessive. “There,” he murmured. “Finally learned something.”
You turned your face into the pillow. “I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.” His hand slid beneath you, finding you between your pressed thighs. He felt how wet you still were from his mouth and went still for a second.
Then his voice dropped. “Still dripping.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. “Stop talking.”
“No.”
He leaned over you, chest against your back, and his arm slid around your throat, forearm firm across your upper chest and collarbone, hand gripping your shoulder, holding you exactly where he wanted you. Your breath hitched anyway.
Law’s mouth brushed your ear. “Tap twice if it’s too much.”
Your hand found his wrist. You tapped once just to be annoying.
He went still, then you dragged his arm tighter around you. “Bad idea,” he whispered.
“Then stop.”
He did not. His other hand disappeared between you, belt shifting, fabric dragged down just enough. You felt him press against you from behind, hard and hot, sliding between your thighs first, coating himself in how wet you were.
Your fingers curled into the sheet. “Law.”
His hand came over your mouth again. “Quiet.”
Then he pushed in.
The angle stole your breath.
Because your legs were together, because he had you pinned flat, because he was above you and around you and everywhere, he felt deeper than before. Tighter. Hotter. You made a broken sound into his palm and his arm locked more firmly across your chest.
He stopped halfway in, forehead dropping against the back of your head. “Fuck,” he breathed, so low it barely had sound.
You clenched around him. His hand tightened over your mouth.
“Don’t.”
So you did it again.
Law went silent, then laughed once, dark and breathless.
“You really are asking for it.”
He drove in the rest of the way. Your body jolted under him, trapped between his chest and the mattress. His hand swallowed the sound you made. The blanket hid the movement, held in the heat, made every thrust feel secret and filthy and too close.
He didn’t fuck you fast at first.
He fucked you hard.
Slow, deep, punishing thrusts that made your thighs tremble together under his weight. His arm stayed around your throat, holding you up just enough that your back arched beneath him. His mouth hovered near your ear, breath rougher than he probably wanted it to be.
“There,” he murmured. “That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
You nodded against his hand.
His hips snapped forward again. “Of course it was.”
Your eyes rolled shut.
“Look at you,” he said, voice low and mean. “Couldn’t stay quiet from my mouth, and now you’re trying to take this without waking half the ship.”
You whimpered into his palm.
He slowed just to make it worse. “That was not quiet.”
You bit lightly at his hand.
His rhythm faltered. Barely.
But you felt it.
Law’s mouth pressed to your temple. “Careful,” he whispered. “I’m already being nice.”
You almost laughed. It came out as a muffled sob when he started moving again, rougher now, hips grinding deep every time he buried himself inside you. The pressure of your legs together made everything tighter, every stroke dragging against your clit through the way he had you pinned.
It was unbearable.
He knew. He had to know. His hand slipped from your mouth only long enough to catch your jaw and turn your face slightly.
“Breathe.”
You dragged in air.
“Good.” Then his palm covered your mouth again. It should not have been sweet. It wasn’t, not really. But there was something in the way he kept checking, kept holding you together while taking you apart, that made your chest ache under all the heat.
Law’s voice roughened near your ear. “You can take it.”
Your nails dug into his wrist.
“You can,” he repeated. “You’re doing it.” A hard thrust made your whole body jolt. “Quietly.” You made a desperate noise into his palm. His breath shook. “Mostly.”
That almost ruined you. The dry little correction. His voice half-wrecked, still somehow sarcastic while fucking you into the mattress under a blanket with people sleeping down the corridor.
You pushed back against him as much as you could.
Law’s grip turned rough. “Greedy.”
You nodded.
“Yeah?” His mouth brushed your ear. “That all you wanted? Me pinning you down so you’d finally stop pretending you don’t like being handled?”
Your body clenched hard around him.
He cursed under his breath. “Thought so.”
His thrusts got rougher then. Less patient. His chest stayed pressed to your back, his arm around your throat, his hand over your mouth. You were completely trapped under him, legs together, body pinned flat, taking every deep stroke while the bed barely creaked beneath the blanket.
He was trying to keep it quiet.
That made it hotter, because you felt how much effort it took him. The strain in his arm. The way his breathing kept catching. The way his hips wanted to move faster but he forced them into deep, controlled thrusts instead.
“You’re close,” he said.
You nodded quickly. His hand slid from your mouth to your throat for half a second, just to hold your jaw, to keep your face turned enough that he could see you.
“Not loud.”
You swallowed. “Then don’t make me come.”
His eyes darkened. Wrong answer. His hand returned to your mouth, and his other arm tightened across your chest.
“I told you,” he murmured. “Brat.”
Then his hips changed angle.
Your whole body went rigid.
He had found exactly the spot he wanted, and because he was Law, because he was cruel when he was right, he kept hitting it. Again. And again. Deep and rough and controlled, his mouth at your ear, talking you through every second like he could feel your mind slipping apart under him.
“There. That’s it.”
You shook beneath him.
“Don’t fight it.”
Your fingers clawed at the sheet.
“Just stay quiet.”
You came with his hand clamped over your mouth and his arm locked around you, the orgasm tearing through you hard enough that your body tried to curl under his. He held you down through it. Kept you flat. Kept fucking you while you pulsed around him, every sound trapped against his palm.
Law groaned into your shoulder. Not quiet enough. Not nearly as composed as he wanted to be.
You heard it and clenched again, that made hips stutter.
“Don’t,” he rasped.
You did. His control snapped in a way you felt more than saw. His thrusts turned shorter, harder, less even. His face buried against your neck, teeth grazing your skin, breath hot and broken. “You’re unbearable,” he muttered.
You made a muffled sound that might have been a laugh.
His hand pressed more firmly over your mouth. “Still not funny.”
It was absolutely funny.
Then he drove into you deep and stayed there, his whole body tensing over yours as he came with a rough, smothered sound against your shoulder. His arm around your throat held you close while he shook twice, breathing harshly into your skin.
For a while, neither of you moved.
The cabin was silent except for both of you trying to remember how to breathe like normal people.
Then another set of footsteps passed outside.
He froze instantly. So did you. His hand was still over your mouth. He was still inside you. The footsteps paused.
Your eyes went wide. Law slowly turned his head toward the door, expression murderous in the dark.
Someone outside yawned, then kept walking. The footsteps faded.
You started shaking beneath him. Not from fear. From trying not to laugh.
Law’s hand tightened over your mouth, but his own breath hitched once near your ear. “Do not,” he whispered.
You shook harder.
He pulled out slowly, and you both winced. He cleaned you up with infuriating efficiency, still under the blanket, still half-dressed, still trying to look like he had not just lost several pieces of his sanity. Then he dragged you back against him, your back to his chest, his arm around your waist this time.
Much safer. Much less threatening. Still possessive.
You whispered, “You didn’t make me explain.”
His mouth brushed the back of your neck. “Next time.”
Your stomach flipped. “You covered my mouth.”
“And you still almost got us caught.”
You smiled into the pillow. Law exhaled slowly behind you, then pressed one quiet kiss to your shoulder. Soft enough to make the whole thing worse. After a moment, he muttered, “You okay?”
You reached back and touched his wrist. “Yeah.”
His fingers laced with yours. “Good.”
Morning on the ship was usually quiet in a way that felt medical. Dim lights. Low engine hum. People speaking in tired voices because being loud before coffee was how accidents happened.
Law walked into the galley looking like death had filed a complaint against him and lost. Hat on. Shirt buttoned. Face blank.
Completely normal.
You were already at the table with your cup in both hands, trying to look like a person who had slept. You had not. Not properly. Your legs still felt suspicious. Your throat had one spot that made you want to slap him and kiss him every time you swallowed.
Law did not look at you first. That was how you knew he was looking at you.
Bepo was making breakfast with too much cheer for the hour. Shachi and Penguin were half-dead over their plates. Ikkaku was reading something and pretending she was not watching the room with deeply feminine intuition.
Law sat across from you. Calmly. Like he had not had his hand over your mouth a few hours ago because you were both idiots in a submarine full of people with ears.
“Morning, Captain,” Penguin mumbled.
“Morning,” Law said. His voice was normal.
Terrible man.
You lifted your cup to hide your mouth.
Law reached for the coffee pot, then stopped. Just for half a second. Barely anything. His fingers flexed around the handle.
You noticed because you were a bad person. A ruined person. A person with evidence.
His hand was close to his face, and he had smelled it. Not strongly. Not obviously. Just enough.
His eyes went flat.
Oh.
Oh no.
You looked down into your cup so fast your neck nearly cracked.
Law poured his coffee with terrifying precision.
You were going to die.
Not from shame. From trying not to laugh.
He set the pot down. His thumb brushed once over his index finger, like he was trying to decide whether his own hand was guilty of a crime.
It was.
You bit the inside of your cheek.
Across the table, Law’s gaze flicked to you. Sharp. Warning.
You widened your eyes innocently.
His jaw tightened. That was when it got worse. He took a sip of coffee. Then his chin dipped slightly, and the faint shadow of his beard brushed the rim of the mug.
His whole face changed by exactly nothing.
But you saw it.
He smelled you there too. On his own skin. From last night. From under the blanket. From the way he had buried his face between your thighs and then still had the nerve to act like breakfast was a normal social event.
His eyelids lowered for one second.
He stared into his coffee like it had personally betrayed him.
Your shoulders started shaking.
Law looked up slowly. “Something funny?”
“No.”
Your voice was too high.
Shachi looked at you. “You okay?”
You nodded quickly. “Coffee went down wrong.”
“You didn’t drink any.”
“Emotionally.”
Ikkaku’s eyes lifted from her page.
Law’s stare could have amputated you.
Bepo turned around with a plate. “Captain, do you want eggs?”
Law did not answer immediately. Because he had moved his hand again. Because his fingers were near his mouth. Because, apparently, his own body had decided to spend the morning reminding him exactly what you tasted like. His nostrils flared once. Very slightly.
You pressed your lips together so hard it hurt.
Law shut his eyes for half a second. He looked like a man trying to survive war.
“Captain?” Bepo asked, worried.
Law opened his eyes. “No eggs.”
Bepo’s ears drooped. “Oh. Sorry.”
Law’s face softened by a millimeter. “It’s fine. Rice.”
“Okay!”
You watched him pick up his mug again. His hand was steady. His face was blank. His control was flawless. Except his ears were faintly red.
You placed your cup down very carefully.
He looked at you. You looked back. Neither of you said anything. Then you smiled.
His expression turned dangerous.
Under the table, his boot nudged your ankle.
A warning.
You nudged him back.
A mistake.
His eyes sharpened. You looked away first because you were not suicidal before noon.
Penguin squinted between you both. “Why is it weird in here?”
“It’s always weird in here,” Shachi said into his plate.
“No, this is different.”
“It’s your face.”
“My face isn’t weird.”
“It’s morning. Everyone’s face is weird.”
You made the mistake of glancing at Law again. He was staring at his rice like the entire concept of appetite had become complicated.
You knew exactly why.
You imagined him trying to eat breakfast while still smelling you on his chin, still catching it on his fingers every time he moved, still pretending that it was not making him think about throwing the whole tray across the room and dragging you back to his cabin.
He would rather be executed than admit it.
That made it so much better.
You took pity on him. Mostly. You leaned forward slightly and said, very casually, “Captain?”
His eyes lifted. “What?”
“You have something on your face.”
Law’s stare went black. Ikkaku slowly lowered her page. Bepo turned around. “Where?” Bepo asked, deeply concerned.
Law did not move. You reached across the table before he could stop you, thumb brushing lightly over the edge of his chin.
His skin was warm. His eyes did not leave yours. The whole room narrowed around that tiny touch.
You pulled your hand back and looked at your thumb. Nothing there. “Nevermind.”
Law’s expression stayed perfectly blank. Too blank.
He was going to kill you.
Penguin blinked. “What was it?”
“Nothing,” Law said. His voice was calm enough to be a medical threat.
You took another sip of coffee. This time you could not stop the smile.
Law leaned back in his chair, one hand around his mug, the other resting on the table. His fingers flexed once.
Still guilty. Still remembering. Still pretending. Then he said, without looking away from you, “You’re assigned to inventory after breakfast.”
You stared at him. “What?”
“Medical inventory.”
“That’s not my job.”
“It is today.”
“That sounds personal.”
“It’s organizational.”
Shachi pointed his spoon at you. “You should never question medical inventory. That’s how he gets mean.”
You looked at Law. Law looked back.
There was no expression on his face.
None.
Except his eyes said very clearly: Keep laughing and I’ll give you something to be quiet about later.
Your stomach flipped. Unfortunately, your mouth was still alive. “Do I need gloves?”
Law’s hand stopped around his mug. Ikkaku made a tiny sound and hid behind her page. Penguin frowned. “For inventory?”
You looked at Law with the innocence of a war criminal. “Just asking.”
Law stood. Very calmly. Pushed his chair in. Very calmly. Picked up his tray. Very calmly. Then he leaned down as he passed behind you, close enough that only you heard him.
“You are going to be quiet when I deal with you.”
Your smile vanished so fast it was humiliating.
There you are. I knew you would stay.
The Masterlist is here. If that still does not satisfy you, requests are open.
Pre time skip, they see each other at the human trading place. It's not all the straw hats, but the heart pirates save lufffy after marineford and take him to Amazon lily (after treating him)
Post time skip, we don't see law until punk hazard. Just law. They stick together for a while. In dressrosa, half of the strawhats go to Zou. Then they all meet up at Zou (heart piratess reunite with their captain). Then half of the strawhats go to whole cake, while Law and the other half go to wano in secret. It looks like law didn't really interact with the strawhats in wano since he'd be too recognizable. At least not until Luffy goes to wano and gets a bunch of attention.
And that's the last we've seen of him basically 😔
Theres probably fillers, comics, Or movies that they interact and see each other, but I haven't seen those
Thank you so much, lovely anon, for taking the time to run me through it! Give me a couple of days to figure out where to sprinkle our reader in there, your recap has already spawned lots and lots of new ideas!
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Prequel to Live to serve. Can be read as a stand-alone.
Word count: 3 K
Tags: SMUT, MDNI. Pining, oral, p in v, Sanji is a giver. And he gets nosebleeds.
A/N: It's been hot, my brain is melting, and I'm just having too much fun playing with Sanji. Cooked enough to share with all of you, enjoy!
Mercilessly, the sun burns down on the Thousand Sunny's deck. You smash the cup on the low table standing before you, earning an approving look from Zoro.
“Alright, I'll say it. You can hold your liquor. Not bad for someone as tiny as you.”
Your nostrils twitch angrily, but Nami pulls you away from your drinking contest with the swordsman before you can protest. She ushers you over to the other side of deck where they put up the small pool, where Robin is giving Chopper back scratches that make him purr like a cat. She plops you down in a lounge chair under the umbrella, orders you to stick your feet into the cool water.
“You need to stop letting Zoro get under your skin like that, I don't want you puking all over the ship because you underestimated his drinking capabilities. You know he's been an alcoholic for years, right??”
You grumble something under your breath, but accept her looking out for you, let the water around your feet cool down your heated spirit. With a soft groan, you stretch, make yourself comfortable, grab a slice of watermelon that's sitting on the table next to you. You take a bite, close your eyes as you savor the explosion of taste on your tongue and sigh blissfully, trying to relax when you suddenly feel the most pleasant breeze waft across your cheeks.
You open one of your eyes to see Sanji in his flowery print shirt sitting in front of you, the usual enamored look on his face as he gently fans you with a huge banana leaf that he must have picked up at the last port. With how he's ogling you, you're suddenly very aware of the fact that you're barely wearing any clothes, and that your body must be glistening from the sweat the tropical heat has been causing.
For a split-second, you want to scold him. Tell him to roll his tongue back up, the way you've learned to do from Nami. But you don't. For some reason, you don't want to. Instead, you bite your lip, and when you speak, your voice sounds a little raspier than you meant it to.
“Sanji, dear, would you mind getting us something to drink? The heat is becoming unbearable.”
Sanji is up on his feet before you even finish your sentence, already disappearing into the galley. You look after him, sighing, your mouth acting faster than your brain.
“He really is a cute little pookie, isn't he?”
You have to giggle when Nami nudges you with her elbow, immediately making you regret your words. “Oh is he, now? Maybe you should tell him, I'm pretty sure that's something he'd like to know. Just be prepared, he'll never let off you once you cross that line!”
You keep your eye on Sanji after he comes back with options of lemon-infused water, Margaritas and a smoothie. You've slipped on your sunglasses to be less obvious, but you have to remind yourself not to drool. Sanji keeps pampering you and the other girls, serving you snacks, fresh fruit, granting you any wish your minds can come up with. Fanning you and giving you foot rubs, only getting one single nose-bleed when you ask him to hose you down. And it's driving you crazy.
It's obvious that his attention isn't focused solely on you. Sanji loves to serve Nami and Robin just as much as he does you. But you don't care. The fact that he's so willing to do your every bidding, the unadulterated devotion he has for you, and maybe you having one drink too many makes things stir deep inside you. Very deep inside you.
He keeps flaunting that lean body of his in front of you all evening, shirt unbuttoned way too low, handsome face crowned by that perfectly charming smile without even noticing what he's doing to you. And when he finally disappears into the ship again and everyone else seems busy enough, you get up and sneak away from the party.
It's almost dark outside already and the ship's interior is lit only by a candle here and there. You're confident enough to know your way around the Thousand Sunny with your eyes closed and you're not even that tipsy anymore, what you didn't account for is someone standing right behind the corner to the kitchen.
You groan as you bump into him, almost losing your balance, but a quick arm snakes around your waist to catch you.
“Careful, love.”
You've been close to Sanji before. Many times. But in this state of arousal, it's almost painful to bear. The way he's pulling you against him, how he smells of freshly cut herbs and cloves. You know you're supposed to say something witty, but all you manage is a pathetic mewl with a cracked voice.
“Are you okay, dear? Do you need anything? And... Why are you breathing so hard?”
Sanji examines you, brushing the hair out of your face, landing his hand at the base of your neck. His brows furrow.
“Your heart is racing, what's going on? Do you need to go see Chopper? Come on, I'm taking you to…”
Sanji tries to pull you along by your hand, but you resist. He turns back to look at you, brows furrowed.
“This isn't something Chopper can help me with, Sanji. I… I'm famished.”
“Why didn't you say so? I'll whip you something up, you know I'll always turn on the stove for you if you just—”
While he's still speaking, you pull Sanji back to you, turn him around, press him against the wall. You run a hand down his chest and whisper, “no. Not that kind of hungry.”
“You– wha– what do you… oh.”
And then, after a couple of seconds, his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.
“Oh.”
Sanji's eyes follow the movement of your hand, incredulously, as you run it over his chest to finally find purchase on his lapel. You stand on your tiptoes and press yourself against him, eyes involuntarily fluttering shut at his delicious scent, the soothing warmth radiating off him.
One of your hands leaves his shirt to run over his cheek, the slightest stubble tickling your palm as you bring your lips so close to his that you can almost taste him. Then you give him a firm squeeze and with the last ounce of reason your brain can muster up, you say, “breathe a word of this to anyone and I'll kill you.”
Sanji's arm shoots up as soon as you let go of his face, firmly pressing the back of his hand against his nose, and you know it'll come back bloodstained whenever it's safe to release the pressure.
You can't really see, because the second he moves again he's already swept you up, holding you close to his chest as he carries you down the stairs to your quarters.
When he kicks the door shut behind him, you still in his arms, you look at each other. Sanji raises the arm holding your back a little, prompting you to sit in a more upright position, your face coming closer to his. You hesitate for a moment, unsure whether this really is such a great idea as you thought moments ago, and then Sanji's voice sends a renewed wave of heat straight to your core.
“How do you want me?”
He looks you deep in the eyes, seriousness and excitement equally present on his face. At the ready, waiting, hoping for you to command him. You press your thighs together. Firmly.
“Uh— just… take your pants off, I just need to get off real quick,” you say, clearing your throat, not daring to express what you actually want. You're not sure you could ever again look him in the eyes if you told him you really want him to ravage you, to eat you up leaving no crumbs. Your cracking voice might have betrayed you, though.
Sanji looks at you. Studies your face as you try to play it cool when, really, you're all riled up. He lets you slide down from his arms, making sure you're steady on your feet before letting go completely, then cups your cheeks with his big working hands. You're awfully aware of how close you are, and that growing bulge that's pressing into your stomach.
“Désolé, mon amour, but I don't do quick. Not when it comes to making love.”
And with that, both of you hastily start undressing each other.
Sanji tilts your head as he presses his lips against your pulse point, your hands fumble as you try to undo the few buttons left on his shirt. A jolt of electricity zaps through your body as your fingers brush against the treasure trail starting just under his bellybutton. Incredible how wanting he already got you before even really getting started.
Sanji has it easier since you're already down to your bikini top. He pulls on the lower string, loosening it, and then the upper one, causing the skimpy piece of clothing to drop to the floor unceremoniously. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the staggered groan spilling from his lips was caused by pain, but the way his eyes become almost heart-shaped while looking at your exposed tits speaks for itself.
Both his hands drop to your chest, carefully running over them, fingers splayed so he can touch as much of you as possible. His thumbs graze over your nipples, the sensitive buds immediately hardening under his touch as he starts to rub small circles over them. You sigh blissfully, the coil in your core winding even tighter with every touch, every squeeze, but you're impatient.
You let him adore you for only a moment longer, then you start peeling him out of his shirt, seizing the opportunity to feel him up properly. Sanji is every bit as firm as you had expected, muscles rippling under the skin wherever your fingers touch him. You mutter under your breath.
“Fuck, you're fit. Do you have any idea what you've been doing to me all day? Parading all of this in front of me? Damn tease.”
Sanji's mouth curls into the cheekiest little smile as you gesture towards his naked torso.
“Sorry, love. Didn't mean to make you suffer.”
He pulls you in close, runs his hand over your hair, shoulder, down your arm. He lets his nose ghost over your cheekbone, hungrily breathing in your scent. You press yourself up against his chest, seeking out every inch of his you can reach, skin on skin feeling warm, fuzzy.
“You smell amazing,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.
Your open mouths dance around each other, mewls and sighs alternating, and when your lips finally meet, the heat that's been building up in your chest explodes into every cell of your body.
His lips are plush, warm, soft, and he's tiptoeing right on the line between cautious and passionate as he kisses you in a way you've never been kissed before. It makes your head spin and your heartbeat flounder. You can feel Sanji gradually losing his restraint as his kisses become wilder and wilder, tongue darting out, seeking to explore you.
You sling your arms around his shoulders while he slowly ushers you in the direction of the closest bed, hips and a rapidly growing erection pushing you back while his hands, splayed over your waist, pull you into him at the same time.
When the back of your knees finally meet a mattress, he gently lowers you onto the sheets, making sure not an inch of your bodies is further apart than it absolutely needs to be.
You let yourself be guided by Sanji's firm grip, moan into his open mouth as you're devouring each other, the last trace of that cautiousness finally gone as he covers you with his body.
You can feel your hips bucking up, seeking out the friction of the massive hard-on Sanji's sporting by now, but instead of bringing you closer to him – which, even if you desperately want it, seems physically impossible – he suddenly pulls back.
You whimper at the loss of his mouth on yours, open your eyes to a scene that makes you even wetter than you already are.
Sanji's chest is heaving, his hair is disheveled from the way you've been running your hands through it, his cheeks are flushed. Lips puffy and red from kissing you.
As you prop yourself up on your elbows, he climbs down from the bed to drop to his knees, ocean eyes asking you for permission as he starts to fidget with the buttons on your shorts.
“You deserve to be worshipped like the goddess that you are.”
You take in a sharp breath, nod, lift your ass so he can make quick work of the rest of your clothing. When you're finally fully unclothed, you see Sanji mesmerized, staring down at your naked form in front of him. His movements look like they're warped as his hand reaches up to his face to firmly press against his nose again. You know you didn't actively do it, but you've definitely got him hypnotized.
You have to smile at the reverence, give him a couple of seconds to wrap his mind around the fact that this is actually happening, and when he doesn't you coo him with the softest voice you manage even though you're already feral for him.
“Sanji,” you say, and his gaze immediately snaps up to your face. “I'm dripping.”
“Fuck, sorry,” he pants, and you have to giggle at how quickly he suddenly moves. Gently, he spreads your legs, angles them up. Runs his lips up your thigh, planting little kisses here and there until he finally reaches your heat.
You sigh contently as he kisses your pussy with the same fervor he had kissed your mouth moments earlier, and when he runs his tongue through your folds you let yourself drop back down on the mattress again. Sanji moans as he sticks his tongue deep inside you, mumbling little curses and something that might have been French in the short moments he comes up for air. For a second, after a particularly dramatic gasp from him, you worry he might suffocate going down on you, but you know that would be his way of choice to go, so you let him continue his ministrations.
When Sanji finally decides to move up, to focus his attention onto the little bundle of nerves sitting on top of your entrance, you know you're not far from reaching your climax. You arch your back, rake your fingers through Sanji's hair, hear him moan again when you find a good grip and press him into you.
You curse loudly when you feel him slipping two fingers into you without your body giving even a hint of resistance, a filthy squelching sound indicating how ready you are for him to be inside you.
You whimper in pleasure as he curves his fingers, pumping into you without his tongue slowing down ever so slightly, and, torn between wanting to make the feeling last and desperately needing release, you barely manage to get the words out.
“Sanji, I'm gonna…”
“Wait–”
The disappointment of him stopping with you being so close is almost unbearable, but fortunately, he's quick.
“I want to see what you look like when I make you come for the very first time,” he says, and the words almost make you come on the spot without him even touching you. You groan, close your eyes, concentrate on getting absolutely everything you can out of this moment. Commit it to memory.
You hear the clinking of his belt buckle, and then a soft thud when his pants hit the floor. You can feel him towering over you when his thumb brushes over your cheek.
“Will you open those beautiful eyes for me, love?”
You swallow, then comply. You only have a second to admire how gorgeous he looks above you before he lines himself up to your entrance and, slowly but with purpose, sinks into your heat.
You try to keep your eyes open for him, but the sensation of his cock inside you, hot, girthy, throbbing is just too much. You moan wantonly as he thrusts into you, stretching you out into every possible direction, reaching so deep inside you it makes you see stars all over.
His grip on one of your shoulders is firm as he thrusts, thrusts again, and then stutters because the way you're clenching around him as you come undone pulls him right over the edge with you. The orgasm rips through you as you clutch at Sanji's arms, nails probably streaking him as you try to find an outlet for all the pent up energy that's being expelled into the universe.
Sanji keeps pumping into you until your body stops writhing underneath him. You finally manage to open your eyes again, the blissed out look on your face probably matching his.
“That was… beautiful,” he pants, arms slightly shaking and dick still buried deep inside you.
You swallow, nod. “Fuck. We really should have done this sooner,” you grin, chest still heaving from the ride you've just been on.
“Well,” he says, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “We can always make up for lost time, can't we? Because I don't know about you, chérie, but I'm only getting started.”
