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You should be sleeping peacefully. Just like the rest of the crew, you should be curled up under your blankets. Snoring away without a care in the world, while the Thousand Sunny rocks you pleasantly on the gentle waves like a babe in their cot. But unfortunately, that is most definitely not what you're doing. Instead, you stare out of the small porthole next to your bed, tired eyes watching the ebb and flow of waves lap smoothly against the side of the ship.
It’s late, late enough that you can only see a few feet out into the ocean, the soft, amber glow from the other rooms on the ship illuminating the otherwise inky darkness of the sea.
With a quiet groan of annoyance you reach up and rub your bleary eyes, finally admitting defeat as you move to get out of bed. A quiet hiss escapes you when you’re met with the chilly night air outside of the cocoon of blankets, and if you weren’t in enough of a bad mood before, you certainly were now.
A warm tea, that should fix you, you think. Soothe the chill in your bones and the storm cloud of weariness hanging over your head with one warm mug. And as you plod down the hall as quietly as you can to the kitchen, the thought alone is enough to perk your acidic mood a little.
Surprisingly, as you push the heavy, wooden door to the kitchen open, you’re apparently not the only one who had the idea of a midnight snack.
Sanji sits slouched against a small, wooden bench on the other side of the room, his head tilted back with his palm pressed against the eye not covered by his golden bangs. You don't alert him to your presence at first, just taking a second to study over his form—the way the fingers not pushing back his hair delicately cradle a still-lit cigarette in his lap, the smoke curling into a spiraling column that dissipates as the blond exhales heavily. You’re just about to say something, when the door behind you shuts with an echoing clack that breaks the silence sharply.
Sanji’s head snaps up, eyes wide as he raises the hand obstructing his vision, and instantly, his previously stoic expression morphs into a bright grin as his gaze falls on you.
“Darling!” He exclaims excitedly, instantly sitting up straight in his seat to get a better look at you. Although, just as quickly as the smile had pulled at his lips, it falls into a small frown of concern when he registers your sour expression—normally you’d reciprocate his cheery greeting, making Sanji’s heart flutter with a wave and sweet smile in return. But tonight, you do neither of those things.
“Wait- why are you awake so late? Are you alright, my love?” He examines your form tenderly, his smokey gaze taking in the bags under your heavy-lidded eyes and uncharacteristically gloomy posture.
“I’m fine, I’m fine, don’t worry.” You casually try to soothe his qualms quickly, but it’s already too late.
Sanji is up and pacing towards you before you can blink, cigarette stubbed out and forgotten as his hands raise to cup your face—the gentleness imbued into his touch softens the melancholy within you slightly. It was always hard to be in a bad mood around Sanji. Even though the two of you had only finally solidified the months-long dance of mutual flirting recently—in that short period of being your partner, Sanji had seemingly made it his life's mission to shoulder your every trial and tribulation alongside you.
You lean into his hands, trying your best to give him the most reassuring smile that you can. “I'm okay, Sanji. Promise. I’m just tired.” Your hands raise to cup his own, not missing the tiny wince he gives as your chilled skin meets his own.
For some stilted moments, he doesn't speak. Just studies over your features with narrowed eyes. Though after a few beats, he seems to find whatever he was looking for.
“Lavender and chamomile tea.” He nods once, expression softening in contrast to yours pinching in confusion.
“Uh, what?”
“Lavender and chamomile tea. It’ll help you sleep and it’ll get you warmed up. I'll make you some.”
The warmth of his palms against your cheeks are gone, and he’s busying himself with placing a kettle on the stove before you can tell him otherwise. You sigh, relenting without a fuss and moving to slide yourself onto the stools bolted to the kitchen island.
“So, you know…” You begin coolly, resting your chin on the hand of your arm now propped up on the countertop. “You seem to be very worried about me being up so late, when here you are, awake as well…”
“Well, sweetheart, that’s because I'm always still awake at this hour.” Sanji doesn’t turn to face you, keeping his back to you as he pours a dose of dried, potpourri-looking leaves into a tea strainer next to the stove.
“You are?” Your eyebrows furrow at his explanation, trying to think back to past times where you and Sanji had spent the night together—as far and fleeting as they had been. Since you were dubious about making your relationship exclusive to the rest of the crew just yet. Now that you’ve stewed on it though, Sanji did always slip into your quarters late into the night, sliding into the bed next to you when you were already half-dozing.
Sanji hums affirmatively, hair swaying as he nods lightly. “Course I am. I wait up until I know you and the rest of the girls are safely asleep… just in case.” You don’t need to be able to see his face to know the light blush that’s flushed his cheeks at the admittance, the way his head ducks and the shifting of his weight from one foot to the other is tell enough.
Cute, you think to yourself. Because with any other man, a flare of jealousy would rise in your gut at the mere mention of him staying awake for other girls. But, as strange as it may sound, you trusted Sanji’s loyalty. Even before you’d become a couple, as soon as you actually started to match his flirty advances, the man blatantly only had eyes for you. Sure, he was still charming, almost doting to an extent when it came to Nami and Robin, but the way he treated you was on a whole other level.
Sweet smiles, lingering touches, he’d find any excuse to parade you with compliments in a way he just didn’t with anyone else. Despite his dedication to upholding his personal morals of treating every woman with undue respect, he’d never faltered in making you feel like the most special person in his life.
You're broken from your thoughts by the whistle of the kettle, the shrill sound piercing the tranquil calm that had fallen over the room. Sanji kills the heat immediately, the squeal tapering off into a puttering hiss as he pours the freshly boiled water into an intricately detailed teapot in front of him.
Finally, he spins to face you. A warm smile and pretty flush on his cheeks as he holds the pot gingerly in one hand, and two teacups, hooked onto his fingers by the handles in the other.
“C’mon, darling, come sit.” Sanji strides back to his earlier seat, sitting himself on the cushioned bench and shuffling over to make room for you. And as you slide onto the seat next to him, he’s already holding one of the cups for you to take. Once you take it from his outstretched hands with a small, thankful smile, he begins to speak again.
“Now… you wanna tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, or am I gonna have to start guessing?” The man pins you with a knowing, but still warm look, taking a sip of his own tea before turning his attention fully to you.
It always surprised you how quietly attentive Sanji could be. Out of everyone, he was always the one to notice when something was amiss, even from day one. So of course he was going to clock you acting so out-of-character.
“I…” You don’t even know where to begin. You honestly don’t even know where this has come from. “I just… I’m having a hard time sleeping. I can’t turn my brain off, you know? Too many thoughts racing around up there to be able to drift off.” You try to keep it light, voice more chipper than it had been since you’d first stepped foot in the kitchen to detract from the heavier implications.
Though, as you suspected, Sanji doesn’t buy it.
“Right—so you’re just having some insomnia? That’s it?” He doesn’t believe you at all, his tone makes that perfectly clear. You can feel his gaze, heavy and dubious on the side of your face since you keep your eyes downcast, firmly fixed on the gently rippling surface of the honeyed liquid you hold in your lap.
“Yeah… just some insomnia.” Your confirmation is half-hearted, the words wilted and soft.
“Okay, so guessing it is then.” Sanji sighs and you can feel his presence shift, his teacup placed carefully on the table as he slouches back, forearms draped over the back of the bench and his head tilted towards the ceiling. “You said you can’t turn your brain off, yeah? So I guess you’re just sitting up, worrying yourself awake. So what is it you’re worrying about, sweetheart?”
There’s no denial from you to his assumptions, because that’s exactly what you had been doing for the past fortnight.
Before you answer, you bring the ceramic cup to your lips and sip, letting the herbal warmth soothe you before placing it next to Sanji’s, and finally turn your head to face him.
“I really, really wish I could say that I have some big, grand problem that’s the cause of all my worries. And all we have to do is a quick detour and do some speedy, vengeful beatings on some bad guys, then everything will be a-ok again. But, I can’t do that.” You sigh and shake your head, frustrated. “Honestly, it’s just lotsa little things that’ve mounted up. I'm just… stressed.”
Sanji sighs himself and hums at your first remark, and when your eyes flick up to his face to gauge his reaction, you can practically see the cogs turning in his brain. More than likely trying to think of any way he could to help. He must come up blank as his head tips forward to hold your gaze.
“My poor love.” He coos, genuine sympathy lacing his words. “Is there anything I can do to help you relieve some stress?” The way he asks is almost innocent. Almost.
You don't miss the way Sanji’s lips curl upwards by a fraction at the corners. Or the way his eyes narrow minutely, curled eyebrow raising in what looks like coyness if you squint. And you can confirm it’s exactly that when his stare flickers down your body for a second too long, the look of longing clear in his visible eye.
It’s an offer.
A virtuous one if you want it to be, you could easily just ask him for more tea, or just for him to be an ear to listen to your bleeding heart. He’d nod smoothly and do exactly as you asked, because of course he would.
Or, it could be a not so virtuous offer, so to say.
And God, if the latter didn’t sound like a good idea right now. Because truth be told, the more you thought about it, the more you realized the stress had made you antsy—touch-starved in a way that nearly made your skin physically hum with need. The need for a certain man's long, and expertized fingers to run over you, caress you in that same way that always left you trembling and sated.
“Well,” you smile, glum mood noticeably ebbing as you slide yourself an inch closer to Sanji. “I could think of a couple of ideas…” Your words drip with innuendo, despondent to coquettish in a matter of moments. Sanji seemed to have that effect on you.
“...You could?” Sanji splutters, eyes widening and cheeks heating like he wasn’t expecting you to match his subtle, provocative undertones so readily. But he quickly attempts a recovery, clearing his throat and dropping his voice back to that suave facade that you found so heart-achingly endearing. “I- I mean, yeah, of course you could. But would you care to indulge me in these ideas of yours, my darling?”
This back and forth between the two of you is fun, but your patience is starting to wear thin now that you’re consciously aware of it. So, deciding to take it a step further, your eyes flick downwards to Sanji’s lap—and you’re moving into action just a second later. Fortunately, Sanji catches onto the intent behind your glance immediately and is already holding his arms out by the time you throw your leg over his, straddling him lightly and leaning back.
“Darling- shit. This is the kinda stress relief you’re looking for?” He groans softly, honeyed words catching in his throat when you sit your weight down on his thighs. Like it’s natural to him, his hands move to the curve of your waist, fingers gripping your frame with tenderness as his thumbs rub up and down over your nightdress.
“I think it’s one of the better ideas I had.” Your arms wrap loosely around his neck as you respond, a small, teasing lilt to your tone as you lean closer, closing the gap between you and him slowly. A breath of pure relief leaves you when your lips first meet his.
Kissing Sanji has always been an experience, he was just so eager to please, following the movements of your mouth dotingly. You nibble at his bottom lip, he parts obediently. Your tongue slides once just past the line of his teeth, his tongue comes to meet yours with a slow slide that always has your breath hitching in your chest.
His reactions do nothing but encourage you on.
The breathy little sigh that escapes him when your tongues first meet. The way you can practically feel his delight to have you like this, his heartbeat thrumming against your own racing one as you press your chests flush. The groan Sanji lets out in return makes you shiver, his fingers flexing against the silken material of your dress as he deepens the kiss. He still holds you like you’re fragile, like your skin will fracture and break under his pressing fingers if he grasps you too tight.
Normally, the romance of that would make your chest flutter with affection.
Tonight, it makes you feel a strange mix of aching longing and restless frustration.
Sanji breaks the kiss reluctantly, the need to breath unfortunately outweighing his will to keep his lips locked to yours. Without missing a beat though, his kisses instead travel to your neck, where his teeth tease the sensitive skin of your pulse point. You gasp softly, head tipping back and a moan escaping your lips before you can stop it. Simultaneously, your hips rock down against his lap gently, just trying to find a way to relieve the heated tension that’s building in your core.
“Sanji… need more, please.” You’re whining, hands clutching to his powder blue dress shirt as you beg for something unknown to you. You just know you need more. More of his touch. More of his lips on your flushed skin. More of his fingers pressing into your skin. More of the press of his arousal that you can feel hardening under your thigh.
But somehow, Sanji understands exactly what you need.
“Of course, my sweet girl. Now, let me make you feel good.” His cooing words fan warmly over your skin, sending shivers up your spine.
You nod enthusiastically as his large hands smooth down to your thighs, slipping under the hem of your dress to shuck the fabric up to your hips. Sanji’s fingers dig into the plush of your flesh lasciviously, long fingers curling around your curves and pulling your weight down onto him.
The sound you make would be embarrassing if you had the capacity to care. A broken, pitchy whimper pushing past your lips when he presses your core down against his lap.
Sanji tenses at your reaction, the breath catching in his throat. He thinks you might just be the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, all flushed and worked up so easily from just a few of his touches—you’re his dream come to fruition. And that’s exactly how he intends to treat you.
With a gentle grip, the man’s hold on your hips tightens, lifting you up slightly from his lap and shushing your little disgruntled huff at the loss of contact. He shuffles you over, hoisting you over so your leg slips between his own and you sit back down on his thigh instead of his lap.
“Want you to move for me, my darling, just like this.” Sanji breathes, then his thigh is tensing in example and his hands forcibly—but still gently—grind you down against his leg.
It’s rapturous. Breath-stealing, almost. Makes the little pool of heat that had been steadily building in your gut rise to a tidal wave, turning into the driving force that rolls your hips down with Sanji’s guidance, The drag of the material of his pants against the sheer fabric of your panties makes you shiver, and you immediately start to rock in tandem with him.
“That’s it, you’re doing so well for me. Is this enough for you, my dear?” He’s digging for praise, and you know he’s a glutton for it when it falls so prettily from your parted lips.
“Y-yeah… feels so good, Sanji. So good.” Like always, you don’t hesitate to indulge him, and when your hazy gaze flits up to meet his, you’re met with an expression that’s just as needy as your own. Sanji’s cheeks are flushed pink, his silvery eyes half-lidded as he watches you like you personally hung the moon and stars in the sky for him alone. And at your reply, he chokes out a small moan, fingers tightening their hold on your hips.
“Fuck… you’re so wet, can already feel you soaking through my pants.” He groans, leaning forward enough to reattach his lips to your neck, trailing soft kisses up the column of your throat until his breath brushes over the shell of your ear. “Can I… can I taste you, my darling? I just wanna make you feel good, want you to use me for your pleasure.”
The words leave you reeling, and you’re nodding before even really processing his request, you don’t need to, not when he pulls away, eyes wide and hair mused—looking all too tempting to ever deny him.
Sanji doesn’t wait for you to say more since he’s already moving you into position before you’ve even finished nodding. His hands leave your hips and move, one molding itself to the base of your back, and the other raising to cradle the back of your head. He uses the leverage to turn you, laying you underneath him with care back against the bench.
Since the seat is small, your form laid back against the patchwork cushions takes up the whole length, although this doesn’t seem to bother Sanji in the slightest.
Once he’s got you settled, he drops to his knees at the end of the seat, his grip encircling your ankles and gently tugging you until your ass hits the edge of the wood. A small, little yelp leaves your lips as you're moved, but Sanji quickly soothes you with light, breathless kisses down the inseam of your thigh.
“Sorry, baby. I just can’t wait. I need my mouth on you right now, need to taste your sweetness.” His words are mumbled against your increasingly clammy skin, his mouth only leaving you to pull your now-saturated panties down and off of your legs.
The groan Sanji makes as he parts your legs is filthy, a heady sound of pure want and need at the first sight of your glistening folds. Usually, he’d make some remark, some whispered praise or even tease about how utterly soaked you are for him. This time, however, he’s too driven by lust to speak. Any noise dying in his throat as he immediately leans in to press a kiss to your slick slit, tongue reaching out and dipping to lap at your clit once carefully.
“God, you always taste so fucking good-” Sanji groans, cutting himself off to spread your sex on his tongue, he licks a firm stripe from your entrance to clit before closing his lips around it delicately. The noise that escapes you in response must be from pure ecstasy, your legs clamping around his head as your back bows at the electric shiver of pleasure that shocks through you.
Your reaction spurs him on, small, wanton moans escape him as he coaxes your legs apart again, grabbing the back of your thighs and slinging them over his broad shoulders. He pushes his face further against you, suckling and tongue flicking at the bundle of nerves like it was the only thing he cared about doing.
Subconsciously, you begin a slight rock which Sanji downright encourages.
“That’s it, my angel, doing so perfectly… c’mon, you can use me, please, please.” He breathes against your sensitive flesh before resuming his broad licks, one hand slides to your side and curls over your flesh to help you roll your hips against his face. While the other hand worms just below his chin, two long and slender fingers tracing along your slick folds gently.
You, on the other hand, have almost no control of your body left. Reacting purely on mindless feeling as your back arches and hips grind down against his tongue hard, his fingers slipping inside you at the action—which only drives you further into brainless abandon.
The tidal wave of heated pleasure within you roars to a tsunami, and when Sanji curls his fingers in just the right place, rubbing firmly against that spot, you mewl loudly.
“That the spot, my love? Fuck, you’re clenching down on me so hard, sucking me right in. You must really need me, right, sweetheart? Must really wanna cum in my mouth, huh?” Sanji babbles between panting breaths, and now that his fingers have found their target, they curl against it continuously. The frankly filthy words falling so effortlessly from his lips leave you dizzy, and you feel yourself tighten around him. A new wave of heat rolls through you, and you hear Sanji’s resounding groan as the evidence of it sheens his digits and lips.
“Good girl, such a good- ngh.” His words cut off when your hand finds his hair and grips, fingers tangling in his blond locks as you coax his mouth back on to you wordlessly.
He dives right back down to your sex with a needy groan, obeying your silent command with enthusiasm and circling his tongue around the swollen bud there.
The world goes white for a moment, you’re too wound up, too sensitive, a shaking mess of pants and broken squeals beneath his lips and tongue and god, his stupidly long, and expertized fingers, too—you only have enough sense left to slap the hand not fisting against his scalp, over your mouth—not even enough time to warn Sanji of your impending release. And just as Sanji’s relentless pleasuring reaches its crest with one last circle of his tongue on your clit, you succumb to the pleasure. Hard.
You see stars, constellations forming and fizzling out behind your eyelids as you bite back cries into your own hand. Not that you trying to keep yourself quiet matters since your lover moans louder than you as your walls clamp down on and flutter around his fingers, the noises debauched and staccato as he works you through your orgasm.
He only relents laving his tongue over you once you attempt to twitch away from him in overstimulation with a hiss. Sanji wipes his mouth with the back of his hand as he pulls away, fingers receding from you with care and popping into his mouth as he licks your wetness up from them. His lips then find your trembling body again as he brings you down slowly, singing your praises into your skin as he litters kisses up your body.
“You did so well, my dear, you’re so perfect. So pretty when you lose yourself like that for me.” Each word Sanji purrs is said so reverently that it makes your heart flutter, beating against your chest like a songbird in a cage with every one of his breaths on your skin. Every press of his softly puckered lips against you feels like another mark of his love and devotion.
When he reaches your neck, his kisses turn sweet, giving you space to breathe and recover as he ghosts his lips close to yours. “Are you okay, my love? Do you need anything else?”
You don’t answer Sanji immediately, instead looking over him with a slightly clearer gaze.
Your love always tells you that you’re perfect—that you’re beautiful, amazing, stunning, flawless. Any positive adjective that man can think of he’s more than likely called you. But as you stare up at him, his golden hair mused, cute little strands sticking out at all angles as he hovers over you carefully. A soft smile on his swollen lips, eyes heavy as he gazes down at you with equal intensity. You realize then that he himself is all of those compliments, and more. And suddenly, you have the overwhelming urge to take care of him.
In response to his earlier question, you nod. “Wanna make you feel good, too.”
With the way Sanji’s face lights up, he acts like you just told him the best news of his life.
“You do? Darling, you really don’t need to do that, but I-” Before he can finish his polite reply, you’re already surging up to capture your lips against his, much to his delight.
“Shush, I wouldn’t if I didn’t want to.” You hush him outright between soft, peppered kisses that lead you both up slowly to sitting. “Wanna ride you, can I, baby? Please?” And fuck, how is he ever supposed to deny you when you ask like that? All airy and doe-eyed while you kiss him so dotingly.
“Anything you want. You can do whatever you want to me.” Sanji replies, breathy and raspy as he leans up along with you, already pushing himself back to sitting as you straddle him—mimicking your earlier positions.
It’s with a practiced ease that Sanji lets you take the lead, sweet kisses to your lips turning yielding as you push his back against the wood of the bench further. While he won’t admit it to you verbally yet, he loves it when you get like this. Just a little more demanding, your tone had that certain edge that makes his knees weak and cock that much harder. If that was even possible by this point.
You're already tugging at his belt, unbuckling the leather and metal deftly by the time his own hands spring into action. It’s obvious you’re wasting no time, too worked up and aching to feel him to care about any build up. Luckily, he feels the same, and the second you tug the belt loose, he’s already working on his fly to free himself.
Sanji hisses when his erection meets the open air, and your eyes widen comically. He’s turned on. Painfully so. Cock achingly hard with precum beading at the cerise tip and practically throbbing in arousal.
“My darling… please.” Sanji breaths softly, almost desperate in his neediness as his colorless eyes meet yours with a pleading look. “Do you see what you do to me now? You’re so beautiful, I want you so much."
“Oh, Sanji… you’re so worked up.” You sigh breathily, a gentle hand reaching down to encircle around his length, stroking up and down, slowly and experimentally. He throbs in your grip, a strangled whine of pure relief pushing past his lips as his head falls back against the back of the bench in ecstasy. You can’t help but smile down at his reactions, his hips arching into your touch as much as he can with your weight pinning his thighs to the seat.
Soft little whimpers of “baby, angel, darling, please, my sweet girl, please, need you.” falls from Sanji’s lips as you pump your fist over his cock torturously slowly. For a moment, you toy with the idea of just keeping this up, tease him to the edge and let him hang there just to see him squirm. You know he’d let you, too. He’d probably beg you for more.
But you scrap the idea when his watery gaze meets yours, his lips pulled into a slight pout as his cheeks flush a dark red—too cute for you to want to break apart right now.
And if you were being honest, seeing Sanji in such a state of desperation was fueling your own lust to almost unbearable levels.
“Okay, but only because you deserve it right now.” You murmur with a teasing smile, lifting yourself up onto your knees and shifting yourself directly over Sanji’s lap. The hand that’s not still languidly stroking his length moves to hike your dress up and hold it out of the way, and as you lower yourself just enough to feel the tip of him brush against your heated slit, you speak again.
“You always look after me so well, Sanji.” You begin, voice soft as you drag the leaking head of his cock over the mess between your legs, your slick and his precum mixing as you ease yourself down teasingly. “Always so sweet to me, so loving.”
Sanji groans loudly when you drop yourself down by an inch, enough for the tip to sink into your tight wetness. His gaze stays trained on where you meet, watching enraptured as you fill yourself with him. The praise adds to it, and his hands find themselves clutching to your thighs, trembling with the self-restraint it takes to stop himself from thrusting up and burying himself to the hilt right there and then. Instead, he melts into the gentle adoration you continue to shower him in.
“So good, you deserve to be the one who’s spoiled for once.” You take another couple of inches—now halfway down his length—and despite him stretching you out on his fingers just moments ago, his thick cock still has your breath catching in your throat.
“A-and you… you fill me so fucking well- god.” The words catch on your tongue, the end tapering off into a gasp from you, and drowned out by a moan from Sanji. Your hips meet flush, and that sight alone is almost enough to make him lose it. His eyes roll back and his fingers dig gently into your thighs.
“My darling, so tight… feels s’good. You look after me even better.” His praises slur, eyes rolling back into his head when you experimentally lift yourself up, just to drop right back down onto his cock heavily. “Fuckfuckfuck- please. I-I’m not gonna last if you keep doing that.” Despite his whined warning, his hips rise to meet yours, pushing his cock so deep within you it’s dizzying.
You set a rhythm, it’s slower than your usual, but god, is it deep.
Sanji feels like he might lose his fucking mind with every measured downward cant of your hips. He can feel your walls flutter around his aching cock, the tightness alone making him grit his teeth. The base of his back tingles with that familiar, mind-numbing threat of release, and in response, his hands smooth up to your hips to encourage you to quicken your pace.
You catch on quickly, falling forward to press your forehead to his as your bounces accelerate.
Panting breaths mix between your parted lips, too brainless to even have the capacity to kiss each other as you fuck yourself down on his throbbing length quickly—movements more of a rut than anything else. Not that Sanji minds, if anything the now continuous, fluttering squeeze of your walls around his cock almost intoxicates him.
You, on the other hand, already teeter on the edge. The coil of pleasure in your core tightening to the point where it's almost intolerable.
“Close, close… so close.” You whine. He can already tell, and before you can finish your tiny pleads, two of his fingers work their way between you both to stroke small, tight circles on the swollen bud of your clit.
Your orgasm is sudden, a few spirals of Sanji’s calloused fingertips over the nerve bundles is all it takes to send you careening into oblivion. Moaning high in your throat, you bury your face in his shoulder, whimpering sweetly as your body convulses and trembles as lightning hot pleasure blooms from your gut.
“Darling, love, can I… I’m close, wanna—inside, fuck.” By some miracle you understand his strained, mindless pleas, and you nod gently.
“You can, please cum inside me, Sanji. Want you to, want you to fill me up.” Like you just murmured prayers against his skin, his head tips back in rapture. What would’ve been a lusty moan muffled behind his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as his warmth floods you.
For a moment, you both slump against each other, breathless but perfectly sated.
It isn’t until your knees make you keenly aware that you’d been kneeling on thinly cushioned wooden planks for the past ten minutes, that you feel the need to move. With a groan, you litter small kisses on Sanji’s neck as you pull yourself up, gently slipping his now-softened length out of you. Both of you shudder at the sensitivity, and you move off of him to slouch down by his side.
“I love you.” Sanji whispers, tilting his head to look down at you with a tenderness that makes butterflies swarm your stomach. “I love you so much, my angel. You’re so amazing. Thank you.”
“Love you, too.” Comes your murmured reply as you meet his gaze. The dusting of sweat at his hairline, cheeks rosy and eyes bright, expression lax and warm—you don't think he’s ever looked more beautiful. “While it was incredible, next time we do that we are not doing it on this damn bench. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to feel my knees for the next week."
Sanji chuckles and presses a kiss to your cheek, delighting in the way you preen and smile softly at his affection.
“I’m sorry, my love. Next time I’ll make sure to give you the full princess treatment, flower petals on the bed and all.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Your teasing reply comes easy and you stretch your limbs out happily, settling into the relaxed atmosphere that settles over you both. Though, when you move to sit up, the pretty white teacups sitting forgotten on the table catch your attention.
For a second, worry seizes Sanji when your head snaps around to him with an expression of pure horror on your features.
“The teas gone cold!” You sound so distressed, heartbroken as you clutch the cup to your chest like a good friend who had just taken their last breath in your arms.
Sanji sighs and shakes his head, but a little lovesick smile curls at his lips, entirely endeared by your dramatics. “How about I make us another pot and we take it back to your room, then get you a good night's sleep, my darling? Is that a deal?”
You eye him dubiously, almost having entirely forgotten the reason you’d even come to the kitchen at such an hour in the first place. But curling up in the warm embrace of his arms sounds like heaven right now, the increasingly growing ache and drowsiness in your muscles from the events of the night spurring on your little nod and loving smile.
“Hm, okay. You’ve got a deal.”