A Helping Hand

aftermath

Getou Suguru shows up on your doorstep. It’s not the first time, but when you look at him, at the blood spattered across his clothing, you think it might be the last.

There will be consequences when the dust settles, you know.

You let him in anyway.

notes: i think a lot about 18 year old suguru and the immediate/direct aftermath of his final mission for jujutsu tech, particularly in regards to him suddenly having two traumatized little girls to take care of. i don’t think he has any remorse about his actions at all, but there’s still a lot for him to process.

word count: 1.8k

as always, minors & ageless blogs dni.

gn!reader, major jjk spoilers (gojo’s past arc), child abuse, implications/references to institutionalization and mass murder, vulnerable suguru/he’s kinda in shock, non-sexual nudity/intimacy, bathing/washing, angst, some hurt/comfort (maybe?), lapslock bc again i shouldn’t be allowed to write in my drafts.

“Hey.”

Sometimes you wish you were capable of shutting the door in Getou Suguru’s face, but you know you never will be. Not even when you should.

He’s serene on your doorstep, his shoulders loose, but that smile of his—polite in name only, a sweet tilt of his lips with a kiss of smugness tucked into the corner of his mouth, flickering into something more and more real the longer you know him—is missing.

The air tastes sharp, like the first bite of an ozone-thick summer storm. You think of the slowing spin of a top, of the final bobbles of it, the promise of a fall.

Because Suguru wears the future on his face. It’s in the brutal calm of the set of his mouth. It’s in the keen edge of his vulpine eyes, gone wine-dark. And while he’s scrubbed away the worst of it, there’s a thick streak of blood going tacky on his temple, already fading into a rusty brown.

Something behind your ribs starts to crack open.

(Sometimes you think all sorcerers begin to grieve before they even know what they’ve lost.)

He is holding hands with two little girls.

Keep reading

Home is Where the Heart is (That Heart Just Won't Stop Racing)

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

Rating/Content Warnings: pretty much none/the same as the first one. Has strong d/s themes but in a very soft, entirely sfw way. Mostly just fluff and emotional hurt/comfort.

Summary: unplanned sequel to Too Much (Take Me Home), reader works up the guts to ask for a repeat performance and Sanji takes on the responsibility of fixing a human piece of fine china. Starting with their aversion to compliments.

Disclaimer(s): none that I can really think of? Reader is called 'puppy' again numerous times but again, in a sfw context. Reader is very briefly referred to as a "lady" in reference to Sanji being a fucking simp, but other than that it is very gender neutral. But definitely keep that line in mind if it might trigger any nasty feelings for y'all, stay safe!!! <3

Since that night, things had been rather normal between you two. Eerily normal.

He's sure it's some mix of the genuine bond the two of you have keeping your interactions mostly the same and your awkward embarrassment- which he's happy to say he's getting to see more often nowadays, especially any time the events of that night are alluded to.

The fidgeting hands, the faint blush, the avoiding eye contact and trying to look serious with a "yeah, whatever" completely devoid of any of the intimidation it attempts.

He doesn't mind, though. The return to normalcy gives him time to plan his next move. He knows that this is delicate, something he will have to take strategically. And, okay, yeah. He's been thinking about it. Of course he doesn't actually stop thinking about it, how could he!? Instead, the break gives him time to come up with new ideas, prepare for the next time you eventually ask him for that type of help.

He waits patiently for the next time you seek him out, knowing there would be one at some point.

Even so, the anticipation kills him. He wants desperately to hear what you want from him in your own words. He knows it's something to do with his approval. The more he thinks about it, the more it seems like it's about approval in general. Though a selfish part of him wants to think that his specifically has some particular sway.

It was obvious the first time how hard it was for you to accept his affectionate words and approval even when you wanted to, and he knew that was something it would take a while to work out of you. The righteous self-reliance, the lingering feeling you didn't deserve soft things. Thoughts so deeply embedded for so long would take work to undo.

So when you come to him shyly one night, wordlessly offering up his ring in the palm of your hand as you refuse to meet his eyes, he knows what he wants to try.

He feels that familiar fluttering in his chest when you offer the ring back in silence. He can tell by your expression that there's so much going through your head, and that it has something to do with what happened that night when you asked him to take the responsibility for making you feel small.

"You wanna tell me something, puppy?"

His voice is soft and expression patient, like he's already working to create that warm, safe atmosphere that made you so pliant before.

The subtle use of the pet name tells you he knows exactly what you want, that he remembers that night as vividly at you do. But the gentle, hopeful uncertainty in his voice tells you he needs your words to know this is okay.

Your words are barely a whisper as an embarrassed blush burns up your face.

"I...want to- to be able to-" Your words are barely a whisper as an embarrassed blush burns up your face. "...let me submit to you again. Please."

His heart melts at your words, the way they shift and stutter. You always seem to change your wording when asking for things - "let me" and "can I" instead of "I want" (or god forbid need) - like it's shameful for you to want anything at all.

"Of course, love."

He answers softly, putting down his drink and closing the book that had been resting open in his hand, setting it down on the end table next to the couch. He keeps his legs open enough to give you a space to sit between them in his lap, gesturing his head towards himself in calling.

"C'mere."

You blush and look down, still avoiding his eyes as you nod and slowly pad towards him, nervous, embarrassed energy radiating from you as you drop to your knees at his feet like the last time.

Though the sight is just as gorgeous as it was then, he shakes his head softly with a click of his tongue, having something else in mind. He holds one of his hands out for you to take, the other cupping your cheek and caressing the skin comfortingly with his thumb.

"Not this time, puppy."

He chides lightly, voice soft and without even a hint of chastising for your assumption, pure care and warmth and fondness in his smile as he pats his lap gently.

"Up here."

Your flush darkens at the idea of being that close but you do it anyway - of course you do, perfect, obedient little thing that you are - climbing onto the couch until you're situated in between his legs, studying his tie with an intensity that gives away your shy desire to look anywhere other than his face right now.

He smiles sweetly, his hands resting on your thighs when you sit in his lap. His gaze is soft and sweet, as if looking down on a child. His voice is warm, talking to you like something precious.

"No need to be nervous, love. But I'm gonna have to ask you to look at me this time, okay?"

His gaze stays soft, as if he isn't expecting an answer from you, his hands moving to your cheek as he tilts your head up.

You go willingly, letting him tilt your head up to face him with two fingers under your jaw, his thumb gently pressed to your chin so he can angle your face as he pleases. Your face is pink and you're obviously still having trouble with eye contact, especially in a position as vulnerable as this, but he can see that you're trying.

And that's all he'd ever ask of you anyway.

Now that you're looking at him, all up close and personal like he'd planned, he can start his real plan for the evening- to start rewiring those frustratingly selfless parts of your brain, get you accustomed to praise and love and care and reassurance and the fact that you deserve all of it until he starves that horribly anxious, self-hating part of you out.

"Look at me, puppy."

He can't help but chuckle fondly when you instinctively turn to look away, turning you back to face him. He does it so gently, not scolding you for it whenever you look away, instead turning you back patiently each and every time. You almost want him to get mad at you, but his expression is the same every time he turns you to face him- never-ending patience.

"That's it, good. Just like that."

His fingers stroke against your cheek again soothingly, his gaze holding yours in place.

The lack of any anger or annoyance or exasperation makes your chest feel all fluttery while at the same time burning your face with guilt- this is all too good for you, Sanji is entirely too good for you.

He can practically see the thought process on your face, not that it surprises him. After all, that's what he'd set out to start fixing tonight, planning to slowly work away that reflex each time you give him the gift of letting him put you under like this.

"Listen to me, alright love?" He smiles once more and moves his free hand to your knee to give it a gentle squeeze. "I'll be saying a lot of words, and all I need you to do is listen and keep your eyes on me. D'you think you can do that for me?"

He speaks slowly, softly, so that you can still keep up even if you space out once or twice. His gentle tone is reassuring, as if everything's okay and would continue to be as long as you keep looking into his eyes.

You sigh breathlessly at the pet names and the gentle tone of voice and the way he touches you like you're made of porcelain, fragile and precious and expensive. You swallow before feeling yourself nod, managing to mumble out a quiet, shy-

"...okay."

He grins at your agreement, all warm and fond and proud of himself - proud of you, maybe, you can't tell. It almost makes you nauseous.

"Good. This is gonna be a long talk, alright? I'm gonna tell you a lot of things, and I expect you to remember them. You need to listen, love. Is that understood?"

You nod your head wordlessly in obedience, the slight firmness to his gentle tone and the commands that come with it making it so easy to melt into this. The instruction that he expects you to remember, that you need to listen making your mind go hazy with the bliss of simplicity- no choice, no confusion, no control, simply following instructions for someone you know will always take care of you.

He pats your cheek lightly, his voice soothing and sweet as he begins talking.

"You do everything you can for other people. You do everything you can for me. And it's not that that's bad or even that you don't want to. But you let other people get away with so much more than you'd ever let yourself. You make excuses for us, but for yourself you're harsh and you're critical and you're never satisfied. It's not fair."

When he starts talking, the first few things he says make your brow crease in confusion. He watches a brief flicker of panic spark in your eyes when you realize what he's doing, that he wants you to sit and look at him and listen as he praises you and reassures you and says things far too nice to possibly be true. You feel raw and exposed under the intensity of his words and yet...you stay. You trust him enough, want to be good for him enough that you breathe through the panic, trying to relax into the words that threaten to make you flinch.

His breath hitches in his chest seeing the anxiety in your eyes. Your trust for him is overwhelming, and he feels his heart swell with gratitude.

"So perfect... I'm proud of you for trusting me, sweetheart. I have a lot more I want to tell you, alright? Can you look at me again, so I know you're still listening to me?"

You sniffle lightly and nod, looking back up at him though you feel positively flayed alive by the words "I'm proud of you". When you look back up at him your eyes are glassy, a mix of the glazed-over look of subspace and unshed tears.

He thinks he's never seen anything so precious.

Eventually, he promises himself, whether it takes days or weeks or months of sessions like this, he's going to get you to a point where simple praise like this doesn't leave you trembling and teary-eyed.

But for now, he lets himself enjoy just how stunning you look like this.

He can feel you trembling underneath him, but he doesn't bother to move his hands from your thighs to hold you steady. He figures it isn't needed if he keeps talking slow and steady. His thumb gently brushes away one of your tears, and he pouts at how quickly you're overwhelmed by praise with fond sympathy.

"Oh, precious. You're doing so well for me, love. You're being so patient, and you're doing exactly what I asked you to do. You're so good, sweetheart."

The gentle feeling of his touch - how lovingly he caresses you, the rhythm steady and slow as he brushes his thumb across your cheek - you drag in a breath as well as you can, the air feeling like it rasps through your throat and gets stuck in your lungs. You part your lips as if to say something but the words won't come, only a tiny wounded noise, barely audible even in the unbearable quiet.

Despite yourself you shiver- "doing so well, precious, exactly what I asked, patient, sweetheart, good", the words nothing but sugar when he speaks. For a moment, despite his instructions, you close your eyes. You have to - it's too much, not enough, you can't tell anymore - but to his heart-rending pride, you open them again after a shaky, steadying breath.

He smiles at you, his heart aching at how precious you are in this moment.

"Good job, love. You can do this...you're doing so well. I know it's hard, but there's so much more I want you to hear."

He pauses, and for a moment you think fearfully that he's going to say he loves you. Not that that would be a bad thing.

...shit, you didn't really just think that, did you? That- that it wouldn't be bad? If he-?

In any case, it wouldn't be good for your pride. You know yourself, at least. That's one thing you could say, you were self-aware. And if Sanji ever said anything like that to you, you know you'd cry. Thankfully, that's not what he says. What he says instead is sweet, just not in the way you thought it would be.

"Can you be good and keep your eyes on me, sweetheart? If it's too much, or if you need a break, all you have to is tell me, alright?"

You sniffle quietly and do your best to blink back the tears, nodding your head in a slow affirmation of both of his questions. If you need a break, tell him. Keep your eyes up. You want so desperately - and isn't that another problem in itself, that you want - to tell him that you're trying, you're trying so hard, you want to be good.

You've never been very good with eye-contact, even without the added discomfort of being seen like this, being praised like something special, something entirely too soft and gentle and sweet for a warrior.

His free hand caresses your face, moving back the strands of hair that hang over your eyes. He can see how hard this is for you, in the way you hold your breath in between swallows, the shake of your voice, your trembling hands clasped in your lap. The way you look up at him.

But you're trying. Really, you are. And you don't need to say it - though you try to do that too before discovering that talking is too much right now - he knows. Of course he knows. Sweet, obedient, desperate-to-be-good-puppy, who's never done anything else but try your best for him.

"Puppy...I know you're trying. I know how hard it is for you. But I also know you like it, at least a little bit. Or maybe a lot. Maybe that's why you're still sitting here?"

Your face floods with pink at the words and it's hard to follow his instructions, it's so hard, your immediate reflex to that kind of embarrassment is to look away, pretend you don't notice how his eyes catch on your blush and his lips pull into a smirk.

But you don't.

Somehow, somehow, you keep your eyes trained to his.

That is why you're still here, of course. You do like it - a lot, in fact - though sometimes you desperately wish you didn't. Just like the (ignored) desire to look away, this too is a reflex- the way you bend towards praise and reassurance like flame to a pan or water to the ground.

His smirk falters and his expression softens.

"Oh love, that was so good. Keeping your eyes on me like that when I know it's hard for you...for a moment there I was afraid you'd let me do something you didn't want. I know how good the praise feels to you. Even if you want to pretend you're a warrior who's never wanted something so lovely."

He teases playfully, voice sweet and loving.

It's far too close to the truth when he speaks - you had tried for so long to convince yourself that you didn't want anything this lovely, but then all of a sudden it was here and your heart ached and for the first time you noticed it, because this time Sanji was here.

Here and real and solid and warm and right in front of you.

Sanji who wanted nothing more than to take care of his crew. Sanji who worked and labored tirelessly to keep your little family together. Sanji who had never treated you as anything less than a miracle. Sanji who took care of you.

It was the first time you ever even considered you could have something like this, the hope that you'd tried to smother increasing tenfold when Sanji joined them because it turns out it's so much easier to want something when you can see it right in front of you.

His fingers stroke your jaw gently, voice filled with affection.

"There's so much to want in life, love. Just because you've never wanted them before doesn't mean you can't start. Just because you didn't know what to do with it when you first had it doesn't mean you can never learn what it means to have something."

He tilts your face upwards gently, brushing his fingers against your cheek lovingly. And then, quietly-

"...you have all of us. You have me. And you have the right to want me. And you do, don't you?"

"Please."

Is all you can answer, immediate and breathless and mumbled as your bottom lip trembles. It's hard to explain how you're feeling- it isn't bad, isn't anything you don't enjoy, it's just so much. It's so much to be allowed to want, allowed to be good, to be touched like something gentle rather than a weapon. It makes every muscle in your body seem to shift and relax, everything going loose and pliable even as light shivers wrack through you.

"Good, love. Just be like this for me as long as you want. You're doing so well."

He pats your thigh affectionately, his gaze staying soft as his other hand comes to caress the back of your neck. You can feel his gaze on you, his smile.

For a moment he lets the words sit, giving you time in the silence to absorb them.

"...I think I've managed to say all that I need to say for now. Unless you think there's something else we need to talk about."

When you don't say anything he smiles softly, shaking his head.

"Okay. That was a lot for you for one day, yeah? You can close your eyes now, love, if it helps."

You let go of a sigh of relief you didn't even know was in you when he gives you permission to close your eyes, immediately shutting them as you try to calm down, focus on just his words and his touch.

He has no reservations about playing it safe from here- he knows he's pushed you pretty hard already. So he sticks with basic praises, the ones he knows don't mess with your head so much. The 'such a good puppy' and 'precious little thing, you're so perfect like this' that work to turn your brain off and let you shut down, washing over you in gentle waves as opposed to the overwhelming words he'd been using before.

Your breathing was quick and shallow, and he could feel your heart racing. That doesn't stop his fingers from stroking your face softly, caressing you lovingly.

It hits you that for the first time in a long time, you feel safe. You feel completely safe, don't you? You'd forgotten what that felt like.

Maybe it had been too long.

His hand moves from your head down to the back of your neck, giving it a soft massage.

"We can talk about some more important things tomorrow, yeah? But for now...just let me take care of you."

You nod with a hum when he practically pleads to be allowed to take care of you, letting your eyes stay closed as one of his hands massages your shoulder lightly, the other scratching at the sweet spot behind your ear that he found last time. You'll be good for him, so good for him, sitting there without breaking eye contact while he praises you. He intends to completely spoil you with affection and touch in reward.

Like exposure therapy. Getting you used to hearing things like that through positive reinforcement and slow, gradual steps.

"Can I ask you a question, love? You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

You nods slowly, head already staring to feel heavy. It's quicker slipping into subspace this time, he assumes from immediately coming off of such an overwhelming amount of praise and all of a sudden you're just falling, nothing to tether you to solid ground.

And you're...okay with it.

Just like last time, the easy submissive haze you fall into makes his heart melt.

You're happy after all that just to sink into him, to melt in his lap and let your thoughts go, let someone else take care of you for a change.

"Why do you insist on taking care of everyone? You're the one who takes the worst jobs on the crew, and I know most of it is just so you can spend time with us, but why do you always do it?"

He can feel your body sink into his as your weight leans against him, snuggling into his chest. He keeps his voice gentle and slow to not startle you, his fingers moving to your hair and running through it as if to encourage you to answer.

And, really, who are you to deny him anything?

Even if you know - and you know, of course you do - that the one, honest answer you have won't be the one he wants.

"Wanna be useful. So you'll be proud."

You admit quietly, voice soft and mumbled as your words slur together, sweet and right and perfect despite the way his heart drops to his stomach at the answer.

"...and- 'nd so you guys keep me around."

He draws in a shaky, gasped breath, though he tries for your sake not to make it too obvious.

He knew, he thinks. Even from the beginning. He knew that's what you would say. Even though he hoped - and god, did he hope, a hope beyond hope like nothing he'd ever felt before - that he would be wrong. His voice trembles when he finally convinces himself to speak, trying not to be sick.

"So we keep you around?"

He pauses, his hands slowing to a stop in your hair as he waits for you to respond. He needs to hear it. No matter what you say, no matter how much it kills him, he needs to hear you say it.

"You're just-"

You swallow and look away as your cheeks color in an even deeper pink, not sure why you're getting so choked up about this.

Actually, that's a lie. You know exactly why- because when you keep feelings like this one buried, it's easier to pretend they're not there. But saying it...saying it makes it real.

"...you're all so affectionate. And- and love-y. I just-"

You force yourself to draw in another breath, wishing it weren't so hard to do so. Why is oxygen suddenly so difficult? Why is hot embarrassment burning so shamefully up your face? Why is it hard for you to speak when all he's asking is why you work so hard for your crew?

"I n-need to earn it."

Your words make him wince, his expression darkening when you continue to turn away from him. That was too real, too raw, for him to ignore. He reaches a hand out to cup the side of your face, turning it gently to face him, voice firm and stern when he speaks.

"No, love, you don't. You don't need to "earn" anything. Attention and love are things you are owed. Especially by us. By your family."

Your eyes widen at his words when his voice goes stern. He raises a brow at you in warning.

"...unless, of course, you think you know better and intend to stop me from giving you the treatment you deserve?"

"I-"

The sudden authority in his tone makes you blush and fumble over your words, cutting off what was sure to be a protest about needing to earn affection.

Good, he thinks, because no one is allowed to talk that way about the things that belong to him, not even themselves. It's endearing how the firmer tone makes you stumble over yourself, like it takes hold of some part of your mind and squeezes, your voice a sheepish mumble when you fall in line immediately, response barely a whisper.

"...no sir. Sorry."

"Then I'll say it again: this treatment is not something you "earned." It's what you deserve. It's mine to give, and it's yours to accept. Understood?"

His voice remains stern, a look of warning in his eyes. He isn't sure what words exactly would trigger you like that, wrap themselves around your subconscious and tighten, but he hates to see you talk to yourself like that. You're family and family looks out for each other, and that means he had to look out for you.

"U-understood."

You can't help but shiver and melt into the firmness of his voice, and he makes another note of that, adding to the growing catalogue of you in his head. You like when he's gentle, but you fall in line quite quickly when presented with any semblance of authority, crumbling into obedience with your voice little more than a whisper.

He smiles, his voice taking on a softer tone.

"Good. Don't ever talk badly about what's mine again, yeah? You deserve all the love in the world, and if you try to deny it again I'm going to have to use force to get you to admit how wrong you are. And you know I don't like getting forceful with ladies."

He chuckles, gently stroking your hair.

"Can you open your eyes for me? I want to look at you again, you precious little thing."

You open your eyes obediently when he asks, blinking open glassy eyes with big, blown pupils. All of the things he said seem to swirl around in your head for a moment as you try to process all the wildly varying information- the words "precious little thing" going straight to your cheeks in the form of a blush, "good" and "you deserve all the love in the world" collecting warm in your chest with the rest of his praise, "I'm going to have to use force" feeding into some morbidly curious, possibly masochistic corner of your brain.

The last thing that manages to penetrate your subconscious is, ironically, one of the first things he said: "don't ever talk badly about what's mine".

Mine.

That word rattles around in your skull for a moment and makes you shudder pleasantly, lips parting around a request before you can think.

"Say it again. Please."

"...'Mine'? Sure. Mine."

His voice is soft but his eyes are sharp with intrigue, looking for something that he can't place in your gaze as he acquiesces.

"Why, does it feel good to hear someone say it? Are you wondering if I really mean it, or did you just want to hear it again?

Your blush spreads all the way to your ears at his questions, how immediately he pinpoints exactly what you're feeling ("why, does it feel good to hear someone say it?"). Yes. Of course, yes. To be someone's, belong to someone, the idea floods you with a near unbearable warmth. His.

"...I think I like when you're possesive."

You admit in a shy mumble, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, face hot with blush as you fidget with his shirt buttons sheepishly. Your voice is barely audible, only more evidence to how embarrassed you are by the revelation, but he's pretty sure he's never heard something more adorable.

"Feels...warm."

You watch the smile bloom across his face, slow and warm and blindingly bright and how did he have the right to smile like that? To look like that at all?

"...I think I like it when you ask for things, brave little thing."

The smile on his face is as soft as it can get, his voice gentle and loving. He strokes your hair softly, his tone light and playful as he speaks.

"You like being mine? Being something belonging to me rather than something that belongs to the world?"

You nod against his warmth, the softness of his words hitting you directly in the chest. Something belonging to him rather than the world. Christ, isn't that an idea?

"Will you- will you keep s-saying things like that? Please?"

When you ask, your face is hidden in his shoulder and your voice is muffled. For now, he decides to allow it, knowing how hard it is for you to ask for anything at all, always the type to assume you don't deserve whatever it is without even bringing embarrassment into play.

And oh, does embarrassment come into play.

Even with your face hidden against him, the mortification is obvious in every aspect of your being. It seems to roll off of you in waves at the prospect of even admitting that you like those things, but here you are. Shame seeping from every pore and still, somehow, he brings these things out of you.

He's never been more proud at the fact that you asked him anything at all, even if you're hiding.

"Makes me feel...w-wanted. Belonging to someone."

His lips touch your cheek in the softest kiss, a reward for your bravery, and he can feel every skip and ache in his heart the longer he has you like this.

Power, uncoiled and twitching in his lap like it's harmless.

"Oh, love. Belonging? That's what this is about? Of course you belong. You belong to this crew, to your family. You belong to me. It's a shame you've not felt that more in your life."

His lips move to your ear, and he nuzzles the sensitive skin gently, words whisper-soft.

"You were brave for asking for those things, especially when you're not used to them. Allow me to make up for lost time, lovely. Please."

By the end, his begging seems more for himself than it is for you. Like he'll fall apart if you don't let him cradle your broken pieces, coddle you like you should've been your whole life.

And he will. Of course he will. How could anyone see a thing like you and not - vulnerable and soft and wanting and the most stunningly enchanting thing he's ever seen, breathtaking in a way that has him wondering how in the world anyone could ever miss that you were something to be handled lightly, a delicacy to be protected with careful touches and soft words. He has a whole lifetime to make up for and, if you'll let him, he'll compensate for every single year

Every second, if it's what you want. It's what you deserve, that he's sure of. But he knows that as much as he wants to smother you completely with the weight of his affections, it's something you need to accept. Something you need to be willing to ask for.

Even if you don't think you deserve it, something you'll allow. You don't have to be used to it, it doesn't have to be easy. As long as it's allowed, that would be enough. He could work from there.

"...okay."

Okay.

A/N: Hey lovelies!!! Have some sustenance! Even though it's been a week into winter break I'm only just now getting over finals which is why I haven't been so active. BUT that being said, now that I'm over it and it's break expect WAY more frequent food!!!

Buzz Buzz - Sanji x Reader NSFW

Girl........I am down bad.

Word Count: 7,200 words!?!? Girl what the fuck.... This is self-indulgent af.

Sanji finds something of yours that you really would've preferred to keep private. But maybe it wasn't all bad?

Warnings; NSFW MDNI. cis!fem reader, sorry 'bout that, Both Sanji and reader are incredibly awkward, self-conscious, and like one-upping each other, plus size!reader, vibrators, no p in v soz lol. 100% this was written with pre-timeskip anime Sanji in mind, love that cringefail malewife energy. Surprisingly switches all round...also yes I know those with dicks have a refractory period...I just don't care lol

--------------

You had barely made it inside the women’s room when you caught the ship’s cook. He was crouched, holding something small and looking befuddled. What was that? Wait! No, how did he find that!?

"Sanji! Put that down!" You screamed, face on fire.

Sanji shot to his feet, looking terrified at the prospect of being caught, and yet, he still periodically eyed the implement in his hand, making no move to abandon it.

"What is it?" The question sounded innocent, but you knew the flirt was just trying to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately you're only human, and Sanji always seemed to bring out the worst of it.

"You know EXACTLY what that is!" You hissed, trying to lunge for it. Sanji side stepped you with ease. With fire in your eyes, you quickly captured his wrist, backing him against the wall. Sanji blinked at you blankly. His questioning look stopping you in your tracks. "You...you don't know what that is, do you?"

You wanted to faint when Sanji shook his head. What the hell did he mean? You were sure if any of the men on board knew what that was, it would be the perverted cook. With a blush you stared him down.

"It's a massager."

"Oh my dear, you should come to me, I'd gladly rub your stress away."

You honest to gods squealed at that. Recovering, you caged the man in between you and the wall, fist resting next to his head. Your eyes burning as you sized him up. "Are you fucking with me Black Leg?"

"No, I would gladly give you a massage! My hands may be for cooking, but for you my dear, I'll make an exception. Maybe I could use it some time?"

If your face got any redder you would faint. Spitting out a growl, you regarded the man with a sneer. How dare that asshole make fun of you? "You fucking pervert."

Sanji jumped, clearly offended. "How?! I was only offering a shoulder massage. I don't have any ulterior motives, chef's honour."

"It's a personal massager, Sanji." You gritted out. The blonde stared down at you, confusion evident. Gods he was so stupid sometimes! A growl ripped from your throat. "It's a vibrator. A sex toy. I use it to cum."

The velvety soft bullet clattered to the ground. Darting your eyes up, you took in the frozen man. Sanji was growing redder at a rapid pace. He squeaked out something unintelligible. You watched the blush spread down his neck, blooming beautifully. Huh, he really didn't know what it was.

"Oh." He managed. "You...uh...a toy?"

"I have needs Sanji." You deadpanned, pulling away. You didn't miss how he sighed in relief at your retreating form. Man, fuck him! It's not like you left it out in the open for anyone to find it!

"And you...you use it?"

"Well duh...it's not for decoration." You crossed your arms over your chest, feeling uncomfortable at the way he looked at you incredulously. "Look now that we've got that explained, can you piss off and let me wallow in my embarrassment?"

Sanji didn't budge, still looking at you with that odd look on his face, like he didn't quite understand. It caused anger to burn brighter in your chest. You snatched the vibrator off the floor, causing Sanji's eyes to widen. With a huff you stomped to your bed, flopping face down onto it. 

"Miss (Name)?" Sanji asked quietly. You ignored him, trying to suffocate yourself with your pillow. This was humiliating. Why the hell did you have to like Sanji of all people? "Look, (Name), I was just surprised is all-"

You snapped at him from your hiding spot. "We don't all chase the first pretty thing we see to get relief Sanji! Some of us have to take care of our own business."

"Wh-what?" 

All you were doing was digging yourself a deeper hole, but you didn't care. "I saw how disgusted you looked. I didn't ask you to find it. You can go tell the crew how pathetic I am! Oh, (name) can't get anyone to look at her like that, how sad. Poor thing, having to rely on something like a toy. Hahaha! Never mind there's never any stupid privacy on this stupid ship. A-and I can have the urge too! So don't look at me like that! I haven't had sex since I got on this godforsaken ship, so excuse me for getting something to help."

You were purely catastrophising, clear that anxiety had gotten the best of you. Sanji would never be that cruel. You weren't sure when, but judging on how damp your pillow was, you had been crying for some time. Well that's embarrassing. Sanji was the last person you wanted to cry in front of.

The bed creaked from extra weight, causing you to wince. You tried desperately to make yourself smaller, to shy away from the man. Instead you felt his large hand pat the small of your back. You jumped in surprise, causing the hand to falter. It began rubbing small soothing circles, You sighed. 

"Why aren't you leaving? I asked you to piss off."

There was a pause. Then you heard Sanji speak. It was faint, unsure of what to do. 

"And leave a lady to cry alone? I don't think so." You scoffed. "If it makes you feel better-"

"Look I'm sorry for crying-"

"I think it's hot."

You stiffened. Sanji felt you go rigid beneath his touch. The silence grew suffocating, You whipped your head to meet his gaze, eyes wide.

"Fucking excuse me?"

Sanji looked embarrassed, ducking to avoid your questioning eyes. The hand on your back spasmed. "I didn't think it was pathetic...thought it was hot...And I don't think it's true that no one shows you interest-"

That drew a callous laugh from you. "Oh please. You and I both know I'm not drop dead gorgeous like Nami or Robin. You've seen the attention I get from men. You don't look like me and not see the way men avoid you like the plague."

The hand on your back tightened into a fist. grabbing the back of your top. You tried to twist to lie on your back but the hand held you in place. Sanji's voice was dark, an unspoken threat dangling in the air. "Excuse me?"

"C'mon Ji, it's cute you're trying to cheer me up but look at me! You think I'm the kinda girl that has men lining up out the door to fuck? I know how I look, it's why I got this back in Loguetown. Don't need to scare anyone off this way." You waggled the vibrator, laughing.

Sanji clearly did not like the way you were talking about yourself, if the way he quickly flipped you onto your back was any indication. You squealed in alarm, feeling the hard mattress dig into your back. He hovered over you, caging you under him, his legs on either side of your plush thighs. You gulped.

"Are you serious?" He snarled. You stared up at him, his eyes were burning with anger, lips drawn into a frown. You protested weakly.

"Sanji, c'mon man. I know its your whole philosophy that every woman is beautiful, and all that, but let's be real here-"

"Yeah?" He breathed out, daring you to continue. You raised an eyebrow at him.

"You don't have to act like I'm attractive Sanji. When we were in Alabasta you literally tried to cover me up with your jacket after I wore that stupid dancer costume."

The man above you blanched. "Oh (name), you thought I-"

"Was disgusted? Yeah? I don't blame you, it couldn't have been a pretty sight."

"Will you stop that!?" He growled. You froze.

"Wait, you're actually mad?"

Sanji scoffed. "Mad? I'm furious. Who the hell told you you aren't breathtaking?"

"Wh-what? I'm not! I don't need explicit words to see that people don't see me that way. Whenever we go out, it's always men fawning over Nami and Robin, and rightfully so, they're hot. If we need to distract someone? It's always Nami being sexy. You do it too. Nami shows a little skin? You're wagging your tongue like a stray dog. I show a bit of skin? You look like you're in physical pain. What about that day on the deck when we were sunbathing? Nami and Robin had hyped me up to try a bikini. I'd never worn one before. When you saw me in a swimsuit, you couldn't get out of there fast enough, like the mere sight of me hurt you. Haven't worn one since."

"I was in pain." Sanji spat. "I was fucking hard."

What?

You gasped. "What?"  

Sanji's face was a dark red, his ears burning, but he held your gaze, looking furious. If looks could kill you'd be nothing but ash under him. "I was fucking hard." He repeated. "I had no idea you were going to be there half-naked. Had to get out of there quick before anyone saw."

You opened your mouth to speak, but Sanji wasn't done.

"And in Alabasta? I tried covering you because I realised it was a mistake. That I wanted to be the only one to see you like that. And I wasn't lying when I said you having a vibrator was hot! I was in shock at the thought of you using it. I don't think it's pathetic. I think me having to fucking jack off in the bathroom because you bent over in front of me, or made those noises enjoying my food, or I watched you kick some guy's ass, is pathetic. Why can't you understand that you're sexy?"

Sanji took in you under him, chubby cheeks a bright red. Your eyes were wet with unshed tears. His eyes softened. "I'm sorry I ever made you think you weren't gorgeous."

"But..." You started, clearly flustered. "Nami and Robin?"

"Are beautiful, yes. But they aren't you."

"But...you really think I'm pretty?"

"Pretty? Darling I think you're so fucking hot you've made me cum in my pants like a boy more than once."

"Really?!" Your eyes were sparkling. That was a welcome change, Sanji mused. He would gladly embarrass himself tenfold, if it meant you'd see yourself how he saw you. 

"Yeah. Once was not long after we met. You wanted a sparring partner. I thought you were gonna go easy on me, and I wasn't gonna fight back. You were vicious. It was hot." He tried to shrug in his current position. "If you remember you got me in a headlock between your thighs."

"I thought you slunk away because you were upset I hurt you? You made that whimpering noise and looked in pain."

"I do not whimper!" He protested weakly. "I 'slunk away' because I came."

"Oh."

"So I can assure you, I'm a pervert for you too, especially you."

"I think of you when I masturbate!" You blurted out.

It happened quickly. Sanji's eyes grew wide, his breath hitched. You watched as his forearms shook. 

Then he lost his balance. 

You'd love to say he fell head first into your tits, moaning in pure bliss. But that only happens in romance books.

No. He headbutted you by accident, flopping directly on top of you like a dead fish. The two of you hissed in pain. Your head throbbed. Motherfucker. For a scrawny bastard he sure was heavy, clearly all muscle, you mused. All muscle, including the very firm one that was poking you in the hip.

"Are you fucking hard?" You hissed. Sanji propped himself up with one hand by your side, the other rubbing his forehead. 

"Of course I'm hard." He hissed back. "You just told me you masturbate to me. I'm assuming you're using that stupid toy."

"It's not stupid!" You defended. "It can pack quite a punch."

"You could have used me, darling?" He offered halfheartedly, masking his nerves with a fake smile.

You shot him a wry grin back. "Oh that was smooth. Unless you can magically vibrate-"

"I could do better."

"You could let me use it on you."  Hmph. Cheeky. Sanji felt faint at the implications. His cock twitched against you. You widen your eyes at him in interest. "Oh? Would you like to try it? 

"I'd rather try you, thank you."

You laughed honestly. Sanji felt the air knocked out of him when you caged him in with your legs, ankles crossing to dig in his back. He shuddered as you dragged him deeper against you, a dangerous look in your eyes. Sanji loved you, honestly. But sometimes he wanted nothing more than to make you feel as nervous as he did. Mustering all his charm he winked at you.

"So you masturbate to the thought of me?"

Oh that did it. Red bloomed deliciously from your cheeks, your ears, down to where your neckline began. Sanji felt his cock twitch eagerly, pride filling him. You diverted your gaze in embarrassment, puffing out your cheeks. Cute. 

"And if I do?"

"That's cute." He grinned, You scowled up at him. He felt your thighs tighten around him. "Oh, I affect you that much, hm?"

Sanji couldn't help the involuntary squawk that escaped when you flipped the two of you with your hips, taking advantage of your lower centre of gravity. Your weight sat deliciously on top of him, allowing him to effectively crush his cock against your clothed mound. He groaned as you adjusted your position, making yourself comfortable. 

"What was that, cook?" You panted out, trying to minimise how riled up you were. With pure purpose, you leant forward, caging his head between your arms. "Because from where I am you look pretty affected." 

The man below you gulped as you leant forward, moving to rest on your elbows, bringing your face closer. The blush on your cheeks showed no sign of calming down, the only telltale sign Sanji could find that you were embarrassed. Your voice dropped. "If you must know, it's a common occurrence. You drive me wild you silly man. Can I kiss you?"

Sanji laughed, dragging your face down to meet him. He kissed you passionately, hands cradling your face firmly. You smiled into the kiss, sucking gently at his lower lip. With a groan, Sanji reciprocated and then some. The impromptu makeout session halted when you propped yourself up to breathe. You stared down at him with stars in your eyes. 

"Wow." You breathed.

"Yeah." Sanji panted.

Silence. The two of you basking in each other. 

"Would you let me play with you, Sanji?"

You were rewarded with a moan as he nodded, eyes scrunched shut. Eagerly you sat back on his hips. Exploratively, you ran your hands down his chest, rubbing your way back up. Sanji shivered as you began unbuttoning his shirt, fingers clumsy with want. When you got the last button done you couldn't help yourself, feeling all over his chest, as if you were mapping it to memory. Sanji hissed as your nails lightly scratched over his nipples, hips lightly bucking up into you. You hummed appreciatively. 

"Can you stop teasing me, love?" Sanji bit out.  You laughed. 

With no pomp or circumstance, you divest yourself of your shirt, tossing it somewhere behind you.  Sanji whined, reaching up for you. You avoided his hand, crushing your bra-clad chest back to his. You were rewarded with a stuttered sigh.

Sanji felt himself freeze when you licked a stripe up his neck. You were savouring him, stopping to nibble his ear lobe. You had one arm stretched far past his head, the other braced on his shoulder. Sanji bucked his hips at a particularly harsh bite. He could feel you grin against his skin. If Sanji was honest, he felt faint as you kissed back down his neck, stopping when you found his pulse point. Sanji bit back a moan as you sucked harshly, bringing your outstretched hand back to cup his pec. Small whines being the only thing to reward you. 

"S-stop teasing, love." He was more flustered now. Perfect. 

Bzzzz

Sanji froze, eyes wide. He breathed out a small "What the fuck?" watching with bated breath as you pulled yourself back up, a wicked grin on your features. A jolt of electricity shot through him as he felt a vibration against his neck. 

You eyed him hungrily, slowly dragging the vibrator down his neck. The man beneath you was panting, eyes scrunched tight as you dragged the vibrator down to his chest. You circled a nipple with the vibrating tip, causing Sanji to jump. You bit back a moan. 

"Look at me Sanji." You purred. A wave of arousal washed over you as he peered up at you with wide eyes. You languidly toyed with the vibrator, tickling your way down his stomach, the man beneath you squirming. "This okay?"

"Yeah." A whisper. You grinned. 

"Good boy. Balance this for me, okay?" 

The vibrator on his abdomen buzzed idly as you shuffled back. With a wicked glint in your eyes you trailed your hand downwards. Sanji accidentally bucked his hips when your fingers found his belt, making quick work of undoing the buckle. You paused, the man beneath you trying desperately to still. When you deemed him still enough you moved to opening his trousers, fighting your way through a button. You'd never really noticed that Sanji wore his pants higher up on his hips. It made sense, you realised, from a fighting point of view. Huh, you'd have to tag that away for future reference.

"I didn't expect you to have such a sexy happy trail. Gods, so coarse." You moaned, feeling your way down through his hair, You let your fingers lightly touch under his pants. Sanji squirmed. You cooed.

"What a good boy, I'll be taking this back, thank you." You purposefully tickled him as you took back the vibrator, staring at him through lidded eyes. Sanji felt himself freeze, knowing full well what you were planning to do.

Sanji felt an undignified groan escape him as he felt you press the vibrator to his clothed groin with featherlight pressure. You were killing him! 

"Please do something (Name), you are driving me insane."

"Oh? More like this?" You feigned innocence, cupping both the vibrator and his bulge with one hand, and cranking the vibrator up with the other. You watched with perverse satisfaction as the man clenched his fists into your bedsheets. Good. With one hand you slipped the zipper down painfully slow. You made a show of sticking your hand through the opening and began palpating his clothed cock, making sure to squeeze every now and then. 

The man below you began panting, trying to talk but instead babbling something incoherent. You laughed.

With the now intensified vibrator, you slipped it between his parted thighs, placing it directly at the apex. Sanji squealed at that, scrambling to move away.

"Too much?" You cooed, though a genuine questioning tone laid underneath. Looking up to survey his expression, you found him biting onto his hand to muffle his noises. He shook his head.

"Just unfamiliar." He willed his eyes open and tried to fix you with a glare. It failed miserably, and the man instead looked like he was going to cry. 

Would it be so bad to make him cry?

You hummed as a way to acknowledge you saw him. Sanji managed to choke out a strangled, "You're not putting that in my ass."

The laugh that ripped from you was raucous and joyful. You playfully swatted his knee. 

"I wasn't going to go anywhere near your ass!" You managed out through giggles. Sanji blushed. "Geez, getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?"

"Just hurry up and touch me." Sanji muttered. You giggled, withdrawing your hand. The man below you whined at the loss. 

"Relax! Right now, I really just wanna blow you. That okay?" 

"Y-yeah! Fuck, I mean, if you want to?"

"Really wanna. Can I put this against your balls? It'll feel good, promise?"

Sanji shuddered beneath you, the vulgarity of your words hitting him. You were looking at him with hopeful eyes, a far cry from what you were saying. He supposed he could always say no if he hated it. He nodded slowly. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay."

You squealed happily, hands flying up to try pulling down his pants. When they refused to budge you swatted at his thigh. Sanji let out a little yip, lifting his hips. You grinned wolfishly, tugging at the garment till it reached his mid thigh. You lightly trailed your hands up his thighs, tickling his inner thighs with your light touch. Sanji squirmed. 

When your eyes met his pelvis you whistled lowly. "Now isn't that something? Definitely more than a mouthful. Didn't take you for a briefs kinda guy, to be honest."

Sanji clearly didn't like the tone he perceived from that. He snapped at you, face red. "They are boxer briefs, thank you! They offer the best support. Why am I even explaining this to you anyway? I shouldn't have to justify my underWEAR-"

Sanji's voice pitched high as you cupped him. You rubbed small circles, grinding your palm against him. "Relax! It makes sense, you don't want a ball popping out when you're doing those high kicks. Thought you'd be thankful I pointed out that and not the giant wet patch."

"Would you be quiet? I can feel myself going soft." Sanji whined. You laughed.

"That's not what I'm feeling sweetheart." As if on cue you felt his cock jump at the pet name. You grinned, swallowing the extra saliva that filled your mouth. "As fun as this panty chat is, I'd really like to unwrap my present now."

Sanji stared at you through lidded eyes as your thumbs hooked under his waistband, pulling lightly. He hissed at the feeling. With no real ceremony, you began peeling the fabric away from him. Eyes sparkling as his cock came into view. The head was red and angry, a clear representation at how frustrated he must feel. His cock was lithe, curved, and definitely long. You found that a fitting comparison to its owner.

"Fuck." You whispered. "I'm sorry sweetheart, you're gonna have to tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? I gotta suck you off."

Sanji barely got to respond before you were on him, hands squeezing him. Whatever he was going to say got cut off by a guttural moan. You pumped him a few times, coating his cock in his pre-cum. If Sanji was wriggly before, he was practically fucking your fist. You braced one hand on his hip. 

"Bon Appetit." 

You engulfed him, taking as much as you could into your mouth. A moan tore its way out of you as you tasted him. Gods it was so musky, you needed more. You sucked harshly, causing the man below you to squeal and scramble for purchase. You really weren't going easy on him. 

The wet sounds that ensued were sinful, causing the both of you to feel embarrassed. You didn't care too much, needing to suck this man dry. You'd spent way too long thinking about this. You pumped what you couldn't fit in your mouth, laving your tongue on the underside of his cock. Sanji felt dizzy by the sensation, the heat in his groin growing. He couldn't help himself, hips bucking into your mouth. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat.

"Sorry. Sorry baby, feels too good." You hummed around his cock happily, causing Sanji to whine. "Baby, love, I'm not gonna last long, I promise I'm better than this."

You pulled off with a lewd pop, cooking a brow at him. A hoarse voice you didn't recognise as your own regarded him. "Y'perfect. Now calm down and cum in my mouth, can fuck me some other day."

Sanji whimpered as you resumed your ministrations, scrunching his eyes shut. Fuck, the pleasure was too much. He couldn't stop the way he lightly rocked his hips. He was so close. So close.

BZZZZZZZ

Ohoho. There was no way you'd forgotten what he'd agreed to. You firmly held the vibrating bullet against the back of his balls, resting on his perineum. Electricity coiled inside him, balls growing tight. Sanji honestly keened, a high whine escaping him. Oh shit that was...

Fuck. Too Much.

"(Name), I'm, oh fuck-"

Sanji tried to pry you off, embarrassed at the thought of cumming in your mouth. You growled around him, swallowing around him. Sanji moaned, hips delivering a final stutter.

He came. Hot seed spilling into your mouth and down your throat. Sanji's whole body shook. You gently licked at him, milking him through his orgasm. When you deemed the man thoroughly spent, you removed the bullet and pulled him out of your mouth. Sanji looked at you with frantic eyes.

"Spit that out!" He hissed, afraid to be heard. This was embarrassing. He hadn't even touched you yet, and here he was, trying to get you to get rid of his cum. Sanji felt himself grow light headed as he watched you swallow, your throat bobbing with the movement.

"You know we don't waste food Sanji. And how could I turn down such a treat?" You laughed, voice raspy. 

Sanji whined. How dare you use his words against him! He felt awkward. You pulled his underwear back up, patting his hip. 

"Lemme touch you!" He pleaded. You laughed. "No, really. Let me eat you out!"

You flushed beautifully. "Oh. Um. I don't think you want to do that!"

Sanji huffed. "I do! You're not gonna use that stupid toy, sit on my face, please darling." 

You squeaked. "No! I'm not gonna sit on your f-face! And it's not stupid. Made you cum."

Sanji rolled his eyes, a blush high on his cheeks. "That's not hard when you're involved. Please?"

"I'm too heavy and I won't taste nice! N-no!" You scrambled to the other side of your bed while Sanji pulled his pants back up. His eyes softened.

"That's not true. I'm sure I don't taste good." He faltered when you shook your head. He tried to muster up his signature charm. "Oh, you're worried you're too addictive and I'll never leave you alone?" 

That drew a laugh from you. Sanji smiled. "C'mon love? Can I...can I finger you at least? Really wanna touch you."

Your face was glowing red, eyes shifting away from him. "Oh. Um. I suppose that's okay."

Sanji leapt off the bed. "Good! Yes! Get comfy!" He watched as you settled where he'd been, clearly feeling embarrassed. You covered your stomach with your arms. Sanji frowned. "Love... You know that won't do."

"Ah. Sanji c'mon." You pleaded.

"Uh uh. You were so confident before. C'mon lay back. Just relax, I won't bite, unless you want me to?" 

There was that cocky grin you found so endearing. With a sigh, you sunk back into the mattress, letting your hands fall to your side. When you nodded, Sanji took that as his cue. 

Fervently he scrambled onto the bed, pinning you under him. He began peppering kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle. He was acting like an overexcited puppy. You captured his lips in another searing kiss. Sanji rested a hand on your waist, causing you to gasp. Sanji greedily took advantage of this, licking his way into your mouth. You whined. You heard Sanji groan, evident he could still taste himself. 

He pulled back with a pop and you startled at the look he gave you. It was so full of love and warmth, lust evident. He gave you a wink, before he ducked down to start kissing you everywhere. Your non-existent collarbones. He sucked lightly over one of them. You squeaked. He kissed his way down your breasts, free hand groping your smple chest. Sanji grinned against your skin, pleased with the noises he was getting. He trailed both hands to your back, rubbing soothing circles. You sighed as he explored your back.

When you felt his practised fingers make quick work of your bra hooks you gasped, red faced. He pushed them out of the way, lightly clawing at your back. You felt like fainting when your strap started to fall. What if he was disgusted? Sanji felt your breath picking up. 

"Oh my dear! Don't be scared. I'll take good care of you I promise! May I see them? I dream of them! You wouldn't deprive me of such a sight?"

You smiled at how cheesy he was. With a light cough you nodded. You wanted to cry at how gentle he was treating you, hands rubbing both your arms. You began to relax. Sanji grinned, eyes wild, as he pulled the straps down your arms, He gestured to the cups, wiggling his eyebrows. You laughed, nodding. He really knew how to ease the tension. Sanji looked awestruck as he pulled your bra away, discarding it off the bed. 

"Wow."

Sanji's eyes were positively sparkling, You watched as he nodded, seemingly at nothing, face dangerously red. With shaking hands he reached up to cup your breasts. He let out a shuddering breath. You felt your weighty breasts being lifted, Sanji supporting them with a blissful smile. He bounced his hands lightly, watching as they jiggled. 

"So hot. Better than I imagined."

"Yeah?" You tried not to sound too hopeful. Sanji grinned, squeezing experimentally. A cute whine ripped its way out of your throat, head lolling to the side. He was so gentle. You felt guilty for teasing him. "I'm sorry for teasing you. You're so cute you make me wanna make you blush."

Sanji stilled. "Oh. I...I don't mind. It's kinda hot. I'll get you back, don’t worry. Right now, wanna make you feel good."

You tried to push down the butterflies when Sanji kissed your tits as his hands reached your shorts. Embarrassment overcoming you, you buried your face in your hands as he popped open a button.

"Love? We can stop if it's too much?"

"No." You whined behind your hands. "Been a long time, and you're so hot. Don't want you to be disappointed. 

"I'm flattered. You know I could never be disappointed (Name)." 

Butterflies multiplied when he spoke your name. You nodded, wincing as he played with your zipper. With a sigh, you peeked through your hands. The breath that left you was airy and shaky. 

"Okay."

Sanji shot you a dazzling grin. "Then hips up my love!" 

You obeyed him, and watched as he dragged your shorts down, not stopping till they hung off one foot. With a shake of your foot the offending article hit the bed. Sanji gasped, cooing at you.

"Ah, your panties have little kittens on them, so cute." 

You froze, face dangerously red. Sanji watched out of the corner of his eyes as you floundered beneath him, stuttering. 

"I didn't know we were gonna...y'know? Wasn't like I wanted anyone to see 'em. It was uh....laundry day?" Your protests fell on deaf ears.

Sanji chuckled, eyes glinting dangerously. "It's cute. So cute. Can think of another pussy I'd like to see."

You swatted at him in embarrassment, he dodged you playfully. 

"I understand why you enjoy teasing me so much. Your face is so cute, love. May I?"

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Sanji grinned. Stupid cook. The object of your affection studied you, clear he was savouring this. You squirmed. Sanji rested his hands on your plush hips. 

"You're going to have to spread your legs sweetheart." Sanji bit his lip when you squeaked in response. "C'mon. Let me make you feel good."

Sanji watched, utterly enraptured as you shuffled, spreading your thighs apart. Your thighs looked so inviting, all he wanted to do was bury his face in there and lap at you like a man starving. But he'd respect your wishes, there was always next time. Eyes flicking upwards, he took into account how you weren't looking at him, eyes scrunched shut. 

You startled when Sanji crawled between your legs, hands cradling your thighs. The touch tickled and burned, sending electricity buzzing through you straight to your core. Sanji slid a hand up your inner thigh, resting at mid thigh.

"Fuck." You heard him swear, voice full of awe. "You're so wet."

A squeal escaped you and you tried slamming your thighs shut, but Sanji had caught them, staring. You cracked an eye open and gasped, thighs shaking. 

Sanji was practically drooling, biting his bottom lip. "You're SO wet..." He trailed off. You felt a hand gently hook your thigh onto his shoulder. He kissed the skin softly, relishing as you quivered under him. "Fuck. You gotta let me eat you next time."

Next Time. The thought made you lightheaded. You whined. Sanji soothed you, rubbing circles on your thigh. When you pried your eyes open you found the man staring directly in your eyes. You startled. Sanji maintained intense eye contact as you felt his knuckle run up your clothed slit. You muffled a shriek, blush returning tenfold. Sanji smiled, eyes turning back to your pussy. You shook as his fingers danced over you, pushing the fabric against you. When he caressed the area you moaned. 

"As cute as these are, can I please take them off?" Sanji pleaded playfully. 

"Please." You nodded. 

You squirmed as he began pulling your panties down, hands tickling the skin uncovered. 

"Okay baby, knees together." Sanji coached, picking your other leg up to join the one on his shoulder. You mewled at his gentleness, feeling him drag your underwear down. You tried angling your hips away from him, instead giving him a good view of your rear. "What a cute ass." He mused, continuing to trail the fabric to your feet. With nothing but gentleness, he slipped the underwear off you, balling the fabric up. 

You were too busy trying to disappear and hide your nakedness from the man, so you didn't notice how he rubbed it between his fingers before stuffing them in his pockets. He'd make sure you didn't even realise they were missing. He salivated at the thought.

In the meantime you had clamped both hands over your sex. Sanji tutted at you. That wouldn't do. With a sigh he gripped your right leg, beginning to pry them apart. You shrieked, pointing your knees inwards.

"(Name)." Sanji warned. When you didn't respond he swatted lightly at your ass. He grinned when you rewarded him with a squeal, bucking your hips away from his hand and towards him. He'd file that away. Sanji sighed. "Darling please. I'll die if you don't show me that pretty pussy. I'm trying to be gentle, but knowing what's behind those hands, I want to wrench your thighs open." 

Sanji watched you surreptitiously rub your thighs together. He cocked an eyebrow. So you were enjoying this. An over-dramatic sigh escaped him. He'd just have to deal with the consequences. Sure you could fight, but Sanji was stronger than you, and when he wrapped a hand under your thigh, thumb wrapping into the inside near your apex, you knew you were fucked. 

"Darling. You can be a good girl and show me, or I can do it for you." When you continued squirming and stuttering Sanji tsked. "Then I'm sorry (Name). You can get me back later." 

You squealed when he yanked your thighs apart, quickly slotting himself between your legs, rendering you unable to close them fully. If your face got any redder you'd faint, and it was a very likely possibility when you felt his hands circle your wrist. The switch to being more dominant was making your head spin. Sure, you adored submissive Sanji, but the idea that he was acting like this because he wanted to see you that badly ignited you. 

"Sorry my love." He apologised before wrenching your hands back. You tried desperately to slap your thighs shut, squirming in his hold. All this did was rut your sex closer to him. You heard Sanji groan, causing you to go deathly still. 

"F-fuck."

Fighting the tears in your eyes you avoided his eyes. Sanji breathed out a long sigh, the air hitting your sex. You whined. 

"Holy fuck. Gorgeous." 

You stared down at him. Sanji's eyes were glued to your pussy, pupils dilated. Anxious, you fiddled with your fingers. Sanji kept muttering praises, rubbing your thigh reassuringly. 

Shame flooded you when you felt him spread you open with two fingers. A loud squelch rewarded the man, and he clearly enjoyed it. 

"Oh fuck! Love, love, please?"

"Yeah." You breathed out. Sanji grinned up at you before turning his attention back to his prize. With his index and middle finger he parted your labia back open, whining at the wetness that greeted him. He gently prodded you with his thumb, causing you to jump and whine. 

Sanji acted like a man possessed, thumb rubbing circles, gathering up your juices. He ground his thumb against your clit, causing you to moan and squirm against him. He pivoted his hand position so just his thumb was on you, rubbing sweet circles on the nub. Your body was abuzz with pleasure, clit throbbing.

"Here we go, my love. Tell me if you don't like it." His honeyed voice kissed your ears. All you could muster was an eager nod.

Thumb still stimulating your clitoris, you felt his pointer circle your opening. Pleasure overtook you, helping abate some of your nerves. The long digit dipped into you and you squeaked. Sanji took this as a good sign, and he slowly sunk the finger inside you, curling up at the end. When you big out a low moan Sanji knew that was the spot. He rubbed the rough spot gently, causing tears to spring to your eyes. 

Sanji's movements grew clumsy, causing you to stare down at him. The sight that greeted you caused you to choke back a laugh. Sanji growled, crooking his finger and making you whine. 

Sanji was deep in you with one hand, the other was struggling with your vibrator.

"How do you even turn this thing on?" He growled, grinding his thumb a little hard when you giggled. 

"Twist the base. No, no the other way...There you go!"

Sanji withdrew his other hand, causing you to mourn the loss. He grinned up at you. "Here we go darling!"

You blushed as he spread you open again, hearing him sigh in awe. You bit back a moan when he pressed the vibrator against your clit. Sanji grinned at how you shook. With a cheeky smirk, he plunged a finger inside you, pumping in and out at a gentle rhythm. When you began squirming, Sanji took that as a sign to add another finger, making sure to crook them just right.

Sanji took you in. You were panting, moaning freely as he pleasured you. He watched mesmerised at how your chest heaved, your hands playing with your nipples, a hiss tearing from his throat. That was hot. He became more desperate to make you cum. 

The vibrator cranked up in power, causing you to moan wantonly. Sanji crumpled himself against you, hand pumping furiously. The vibrator was firmly dancing against your clit. With his free hand Sanji slapped one of your hands away. You wanted to protest, but then he began sucking harshly at your tit. A whine echoed through the room when he bit down on the skin. 

Your moans pitched up in tone and frequency as you reached your end. Sanji stared up at you, in awe of your reactions. He felt your thighs quiver, a wave of giddiness washing over him. He could do this all day if it meant you'd react like that. He resumed sucking and nibbling at your breasts, his ego inflating at the way you chanted his name. He liked this version of you, too caught up in pleasure to worry about how you looked, or how you sounded. Even if it drove him wild, he really loved when you were confident.

"There we go my love. Let go. So hot."

You had tears in your eyes, your hips rocking in time with his thrusts. "Oh Sanji...you're so good to me. Good boy." Your voice hitched at a particularly hard bite. "Oh! I-I'm gonna cum b-baby."

Sanji whined against your sweaty skin. "Cum for me (name), please love."

Stars burst behind your eyes as you reached your white hot peak. You clenched around his fingers, walls spasming. Sanji marvelled at how you threw your head back, brows knitted together. Your fingers clawed for purchase, one settling in his locks, the other scratching at his neck. Sanji groaned. You uttered a stuttered call of his name. Sanji felt his mouth go dry as you came, wet squelches reaching his ears, and watching as your back arched beautifully.

You fell back into the bed, completely spent. Sanji fumbled with the vibrator, throwing it aside when he couldn't turn it off, simultaneously removing his fingers gently, eyes blown wide at the cum decorating his digits. He couldn't stop himself, trying to sneakily guide his fingers to his mouth. You watched, mesmerised as he began licking the digits clean, humming in delight. A gasp tore its way from your throat. Sanji froze, fingers in his mouth.

"M'sorry." He mumbled around his fingers. "Really wanted to taste you."

"And?" You breathed out, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Sanji sucked them clean, then pulled the fingers from his mouth with a wet pop. You cringed at the lewd sound. "Oh love, it's exquisite."

He climbed his way on top of you, collapsing against your chest with a huff, earning a giggle from you. You placed a kiss into his hair. Sanji snuggled deeper, trying to crush you in a hug. Happily, you felt him shiver as you drew circles on his bare back. The small grunt he made causing a languid grin to spread across your face.

"Was that okay?" The tentative voice you spoke with sounded foreign to you. Sanji laughed, kissing your skin.

"More than okay. Would you let me make love to you when I'm hard again?"

Sanji preened at the delighted sound that rewarded him. "I would love that." You paused. "Hey Sanji?" 

The tired man hummed, feeling you fiddle with his hair with one hand, the other splayed on his back. You were silent. He tilted his head up, peering up at you through heavy lashes. Your eyes were big and nervous.

"I kinda...like you, you know? Like...love you."

You felt the breath knocked from your lungs at the dazzling grin that spread across his face. He pushed himself up, pulling his body upwards so he could meet your eyes. 

"Yeah?" He breathed. You nodded. Sanji captured you in another kiss. "Love you too my sweet." You grinned, causing the man above you to kiss you repeatedly. You pulled back cheekily.

"Even liked the vibrator?" Sanji scowled but nodded faintly. You giggled, dropping your voice low. "You know you can get one that goes around your cock? Stops you from cumming without permission."

A soft whine ripped from Sanji's throat as he stilled, burying his face in your neck. You raised a brow.

"Are you fucking hard again?"

"Sorry darling."

social skills training, solmaz sharif

good things will happen 🧿

things that are meant to be will fall into place 🧿

I’ve Got You

Summary: Reader, terrified of needles, injures themself badly enough to need stitches, and does what they can to avoid getting them. Sanji, however, would never let you suffer so.

Tags: Sanji x gn!reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, blood, medical needles, open wounds

Word count: 4.4k

I made one for Law ages ago, and thought it’d be fun to write a version for Sanji, (you all should thank @yourboyhack for encouraging me <3 <3 <3)

Several mistakes were made on your part. First, you had let yourself stray from the rest of the group. You weren’t one to get lost easily, and so when you wandered farther than everyone else, it didn’t raise any alarms. You yourself were confident, and there hadn’t been any clear threats. It was an uninhabited island like any other, the forest like any other. But that had been your second mistake. You underestimated the terrain. A cursory glance left you thinking you could venture out without any real equipment. It was a simple walk. But the air held that earthy scent that meant it had just rained, the earth loose beneath your feet. The third was just not taking anyone with you. A second set of eyes would have pointed out the drop, or at least have caught you when you slipped. Instead, you threw your arm out behind you, desperate to grab any sort of branch or root, or even the ledge, but you found purchase in neither.

The drop wasn’t that far. It was the sort of fall that would have merely been embarrassing, only leaving you disgruntled because of the mud in your clothes and your own stupidity, if it weren’t for the rock jutting out. You hit it on the way down, thigh catching and tearing along the jagged edge. The breath left your body as you hit the ground, and you laid there for a moment, completely still, to breathe deep and try to reorientate yourself. You dreaded the bright pain that was building in your leg, not wanting to know the extent of the damage. When you finally brought yourself to do it, a hiss slipped between your clenched teeth. It was difficult to know how deep the gash was with all the blood that had already welled up and began to drip, but you knew it was bad. Your stomach turned at the thought of what it’d take to heal it, your mind touching and recoiling away from the thought of stitches.

You hurried to stand, ready to prove that it was not that bad. Your legs shook as you stood, but less from pain and more from the shock. As you started your search for a way out, you found it difficult to put too much weight on your injured leg, but it was manageable. What kind of Straw Hat were you if you couldn’t? You were fine, you told yourself. You could suck it up and fix it.

The little gap in the earth you had fallen into wasn’t all that deep. You couldn’t even call it a ravine, really. The little hill up and out to leveled ground was close and short. It made it all the more easier on your part, but also more irritating. This, out of all things, was what had caught you unawares? It was not something you were going to be eager to explain.

You hobbled your way back. It took longer than your way in, but at least you knew the path there. You kept a hand pressed to your wound, an effort that wasn’t doing much but making your hand a sticky mess, but you didn’t have much else to do for it. In this one instance, you were relieved to find the ship empty when you made your way back. Carefully, you climbed the gangway and stopped on the deck, listening. There wasn’t a reaction from the crow’s nest, nor one from the upper decks, which meant that whoever must have stayed behind was busy in one of the rooms or below deck. It meant you had to tread carefully.

Usually, you would head straight for Sanji and let him tend to you. It was a ritual at this point. One of you got hurt and offered themselves to the other, relishing the admonitions to be more careful and the skin to skin contact. The trust and love required to allow the other to dirty their hands as they helped them in such a vulnerable state. But this time, you hesitated. You’d never been hurt like this before. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sanji to help you this time. He was more than capable and would be more than willing. His soothing hands and sweet words were all you wanted at that moment.

It’s that you were afraid. The threat of a needle and thread loomed over you. You didn’t know if it was something that Sanji could do, but his skill wasn’t the worry. It was the needle going in and out, slicing through and dragging the thread through your skin, an intrusion that wouldn’t be removed for a while.

You trudged ahead to the bathroom. You could handle this. Sanji was busy anyway, wherever he was; it would have been rude to interrupt and ask him for help over something as simple as a cut. It wasn’t all that deep. Blood had made a fine layer on your leg, but that’s what blood did. Like most wounds, blood made it look worse than it actually was. There was a simple first aid kit that sat in the cupboard of the bathroom, and that was all you would need.

You moved as quietly as possible, as the bathroom was behind the kitchen and getting to it required walking atop it. You hoped that the gentle sounds of water lapping at the hull would mask the creaking of the wood beneath your footsteps. When you made it near the kitchen, you could hear the sounds of Sanji cooking, and cursed your luck that it had been him to stay behind. It made sense, as he would be making lunch for a voracious group of pirates that would be tired from their ventures. You hoped that you could be cleaned and fixed by the time you saw him again. It would make it easier to brush it all away. You kept your steps light as you continued, praying he would not notice. But Sanji had keen senses, and a radar that was attuned specially for you.

Dread became a terrible weight in your stomach at the sound of the voice calling out behind you. You’d reached the door of the library, and quickly shoved yourself behind it in case his head popped up.

“Y/n! Is that you, my love? Lunch is almost ready!” Sanji yelled.

“Yeah! I just need to go to the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right down.” You shut the door and scurried up to the bathroom before he could answer.

It made it more difficult now that he knew you were there. A timer had been set. If you took too long, he was going to come and check.

You stripped down to your underwear, your clothing a dirty mess and now a hindrance. You grabbed the first aid kit and a towel, and settled yourself on the tiled floor, facing the door you’d locked. The trek had left you exhausted and woozy. The task at hand was beginning to feel insurmountable and the sudden feeling of hopelessness washed over you. Sanji’s pampering had left you soft. You wanted his hands on you more than ever, for him to take the weight of responsibility and take complete care of you. But you just couldn’t let him.

First, you used the shower head to rinse all the blood and dirt off, biting hard into your lip as you flushed out the wound. You tried to dry the water off afterward, but it was difficult when the blood wouldn’t stop flowing. You pressed the towel down, waiting for a bit as the blood soaked into the fabric before trying again, but it simply was not working. You had to close it before trying to get any cleaner. Flipping open the kit, you rooted around for butterfly bandages. You were able to apply two before your skin was too slick for the bandages to stick. You grabbed the towel and tried to wipe away the blood with a clean patch, but it smeared it more than anything. Your head was starting to swim and the blood was getting everywhere, all across your thigh, leeching onto your other leg. All over your hands and under your nails. In some spots, it’d dried down and become sticky. The rest left you too slippery. One side of one of the bandages you placed popped up. Your eyes started to burn with frustration.

And then there was a knock at the door.

“Y/n? Is everything all right? You’ve been in there a while,” Sanji asked from the other side.

“I’m fine! Just getting cleaned up.” You hoped you sounded normal, that no strain peeked through.

“Cleaned up? Did something happen?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual grime from hiking.”

“Ah, do you need any help, my dear? I could scrub your back for you.” His voice took on a sultry, flirty tone.

“No!” You said it too fast, too aggressively, and tried to fix it immediately. “It’s just a quick one, no need for help.”

It was wrong. You knew it as you said it. Normally, you would have said yes, ready to take full advantage of an empty ship, or if not, you would have at least flirted back or teased him. But it was hard to think of the right thing to say at the moment.

“Oh.” The dejected tone of his voice sliced right through you, worse than the rock had. “Have I done something wrong?”

Of course he would ask. Of course he would think himself at fault. Why else would you reject someone you loved so dearly, craved so constantly? You didn’t know how much longer this would take. You could send him away, but he’d come right back if you didn’t leave soon after. And the clothes and the towels, what would you do with those? And the wound itself, just how the hell were you supposed to keep that hidden? It would hurt him to know that you didn’t come to him for help.

“No, no, of course not. I just…” You trailed off. The throb of your leg and the tangy scent of blood and the wetness of the floor was making it hard to think. The light was too bright and yet its sharpness didn’t make fixing your wound any easier. You kept moving in a helpless circle of wiping blood and trying to get the butterfly bandages to stick.

Maybe a little truth could help. “I got a little scrape and wanted to handle it myself. I’ll be out soon, I swear.”

“What? Are you alright?” The door handle jiggled. “Why didn’t you come to me?”

Fuck, why did you think that would help? You had just told yourself how it wouldn’t help to tell him. “You were busy. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Sanji knew, though. He always knew. You loved to distract him in the kitchen, doing anything to keep his attention on you. “Let me help you. I’m not busy now.”

He was never going to let up until he got a look at it himself, to at least assuage his own worries. You would want to do the same for him.

“I can’t—“ No, that wasn’t right. “It’s fine.”

“If it’s fine, then let me see it, baby.”

Shit. Shit shit shit. Say no, and it would confirm suspicion. Say yes, and you had to let him in. And you were in no state to find a better way around it. You snatched some gauze, pressing them to the wound, and started wrapping your leg. “Y-yeah. Just a second more.”

“Y/n,” his voice was serious, the closest to stern he could get with you, and dripping with concern. The door handle was jiggling again, now like he was doing something to it.

“Just a moment, I swear.” Lifting your leg to move the wrapping under it hurt and you harshly sucked in a breath, fingers shaking. A few tears snuck their way down your cheeks. Why, why, why was it so damn hard?

The door swung open and all you could do was feel the fear and shame that flooded your body. You were like a child caught doing something naughty, and your mind reeled with how you could defend yourself. The gasp that Sanji let out rang against the tile, and made even louder to your ears by your panic. You looked up, hair hanging in your face.

On Sanji’s end, only one eye poked through that curtain of hair, the rest of your face hidden. It was wide, red-rimmed, and filled with threat. You were a feral animal, back hunched and body tensed, ready to sink your teeth in. Blood was smeared across every available surface, and all over you. Mud still clung to your skin, bits on your shoulders, arms, and ankles where you hadn’t cared to clean yet. If it were anyone else that had stumbled upon you, they would have backed right out from fear. That look in your eye and the redness that surrounded you would have set off alarm bells, the scene making it seem like it was not your own blood you were coated in. And that you weren’t going to stop at one victim.

But it was Sanji, and it was you. You could be crouched over a corpse, soaked to the elbows in another’s blood, an organ pressed to the mess of your mouth, and he would still approach you. Cradle your face and wipe a thumb across your chin and ask if you needed anything else. And so he lept towards you.

“Oh gods, my baby—”

“Don’t!” It was a shrill, ugly noise. You lifted your hand, palm out and fingers spread wide to keep him at bay.

He froze, unable to disobey any command from you. But it pained him to do so, for you to ask that of him. “What happened?”

“I fell. It’s fine, though. It’s not bad. The blood just makes it look bad. But it’s not.” The words came out in a rush.

“Y/n, it looks very, very bad.”

“It’s not! It’s not. I don’t need anything more than bandages.”

Sanji swallowed and slowly crouched down. “Can I look?”

“N-no. Because it’s okay.”

He only looked at you, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed, his lips pressed together and the corners tugging down. He looked so worried, so scared. A pain twisted in your chest.

“I don’t need stitches,” you whispered, trying to reassure him.

And then he understood. He understood your sneakiness and your panic and your refusal. It wasn’t exactly him you were rejecting.

“Oh, oh baby,” he said as he reached towards you.

Unconsciously, you flinched away from those hands. The softness of his voice let you know that he knew the root of your fear, that your words had been an admission, which meant he would do what he could to make those stitches more bearable for you. But you didn’t. Need. Them.

“Stop it. I’ve got it,” you snapped.

Hurt flashed across his face, but he stopped reaching for you. Instead, he sat down and rested his elbows on his knees. Softly, he said, “It’ll go faster, smoother, if you let me help you.”

You bit down on your lip and hunched your shoulders. You knew he was right, but you didn’t want him to be. Tears started to well in your eyes again and it made your stomach burn brighter with anger and shame. “I don’t need your fucking help.”

“It’s okay to be afraid,” he continued. “We all do things while scared all the time. And I’ll hold you through this one the whole time. You know I’ve always got you.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, wanting to hand yourself over to him so, so badly. But you could see it so clearly, the needle breaking your skin and diving in. Dragging itself so painfully through and out, emerging red with your blood. And the thread that followed, prolonging the pain as it dragged through as well. And the dipping and tugging and pulling that followed, again and again. Your throat felt dangerously tight.

“I don’t want to,” you cried.

“I know. I know, I know, I know.” You felt the slightest brush of skin along the ankle of your uninjured leg, and when you didn’t flinch or pull away, he wrapped his fingers around, rubbing soothing circles. “But you have to. And you can do it. I know you can do it.”

You shook your head, back and forth, back and forth. You tried to tug your leg away but he held firm, and you hadn’t tried all that hard in the first place.

“My baby, my lover, my heart, please?”

His plea broke through it all. Fear could be so tiring. Exhaustion made it harder to fight, to keep your eyes open. Sanji’s words washed over you again and again, always a balm to the worst pains. You wanted him to whisk away all your problems, but this one you had to sit through. However, you’d be in your lover’s embrace, and couldn’t that mean that you could tough it out?

“I’m gonna go get Chopper, yeah?” he asked.

You didn’t answer, instead leaning back and letting your head fall to the side. You sluggishly shrugged one shoulder.

He pressed a kiss to your knee before leaving. In his absence, the fear slowly coiled its way back, the anticipation making it return. You pressed your palms to the tile and tried to push yourself up to run away, but your body was disobeying you. You just couldn’t get your legs beneath you, which meant there was no way they’d hold your weight. Your stomach flipped at the sound of footsteps and hooves clipping.

“Oh no! Oh, Y/n!” Chopper’s little voice exclaimed. You started to curl in on yourself, dragging your injured leg in and away, opening your mouth to snarl, but then Sanji was there, wrapping his arms around you. He pulled you close and you shoved your face into the crook of his neck, a move of pure want and instinct. You inhaled his scent and it left you feeling a little more steady.

He buried his nose in your hair and rubbed your arms as he said, “You’ve got this. You don’t have to look, just sit like this. It’s nice, right?”

“I’ll be able to numb the area, but it does mean I’ll have to inject it with a syringe. You won’t feel any pain from the stitches though!” Chopper explained.

It was nigh impossible to fight back now. Out of all people to snap and bite at, could you really make it Chopper? You would really feel like the villain then. “Okay,” you croaked.

“Okay. I’m gonna start now, first by cleaning up the wound.”

Your blood had gone tacky in the time it took to fetch Chopper, and so the gauze being peeled off your skin left you tensing your muscles. You gripped a handful of Sanji’s shirtfront, tugging it towards you.

“Breathe, my sweet, breathe,” he cooed as he petted your hair.

Both boys inhaled sharply at your fully revealed gash. You didn’t turn to look, quickly frankly sick of looking at the damn thing. Sanji’s hold on you tightened and you felt guilty at all the anxiety you were causing him.

You tried to be as still as possible as Chopper cleaned, but it was difficult not to twitch at every sting. There was a silence when he finished, only interrupted by the sounds of Chopper rifling through his supplies.

“Now for the numbing. Are you ready?” Chopper asked.

“Go ahead,” you said, trying to get your voice to cooperate, to sound steady. It wobbled anyway.

“Lunch is sandwiches, if you’re still hungry after. If… it’s still there, actually. I’d thought you would come out sooner, so I left it in the kitchen with everyone else’s, and you know how Luffy is, that insatiable asshole. Hopefully the others keep it from him, but with him, it’s always a fight.” Sanji’s rambling caught you off guard, and in trying to pay attention to what he was saying, the needle went in and out without bothering you much. Your breath hitched a little at the fluid entering your muscle, but you were too distracted thinking about Luffy stealing your food to give it more thought. You didn’t really have an appetite at the moment, but it was your sandwich that Sanji made for you. And you each had a favorite, one specific to each of you, so Luffy knew better.

“He better not,” you huffed.

“If he did, I’ll kick his ass,” Sanji answered.

You let out a little huff of laughter at that.

“I’m still deciding what dinner is, though. Is there anything you’ve been craving?” he asked.

It was hard to think of what you’d want. “I don’t know. Maybe something with pasta?”

He hummed. “Red or white sauce? Or maybe something different?”

“Um, probably white. Or something more cheesy?”

“Ooo!” Chopper butted in with. “I want something more cheesy.”

The conversation went on just like that. Sanji’s hand roamed, kneading and rubbing at your arms, then your hips, then upper thighs, all in an endless circle. You could feel the stitches, the needle entering and exiting as Chopper worked, but you never felt any pain. It was an odd sensation, like it was more the idea of it than the reality. Sanji’s other hand never left your head, either cupping your cheek and pressing you to his chest, or running his fingers through your hair. Each time you turned your head, wanting to maybe steal a glance, he’d push you right back, knowing that letting you look could send you reeling all over again. His thumb would softly trace your jaw after he did, or his fingertips would ghost over your cheekbones. It was grounding, and safe, to be so engulfed by him.

“All done!” Chopper said after a while.

You pushed off of Sanji’s chest, swatting away the hand that protested it. Your gaze bounced off your thigh, only catching it in your sight for a second before grabbing Chopper and pulling him in for a hug.

“You’re the greatest doctor to have ever existed. Thank you, Chopper,” you told him.

He giggled and wiggled in your grasp. “Aww, you’re just saying that. You can’t flatter me.”

After you put him down, he reached for fresh gauze and bandaging to finish helping you, but Sanji butted in.

“I can do that later, Chopper. For now, they still need a bath.”

“Alright,” he answered. “I’ll be out on the ship then. Make sure to not submerge their wound, though!”

Sanji gave him a thumbs up. “Got it.”

After Chopper left, Sanji slipped out from behind you, slowly and gently as he could so he wouldn’t jostle you. He started up the bath and then turned back to you, kneeling between your legs, so that he could remove the rest of your underwear.

“Think you could lift your hips for me, sweetheart?” he asked.

You were stiff from sitting so long, and now the pain from the other bumps and bruises from your fall were making themselves known. It took you a second, but you were able to do as he asked.

“My poor, poor baby. I’ve got you, though. I’ll take good care of you,” he cooed.

When Sanji lifted you up, you couldn’t help the little whimper that came up and out of your throat. Immediately, he apologized and kissed all over your face as he lowered you into the bath. He started with your injured leg first, beginning with the mud caked to your foot and ankle and then worked his way up, removing the remaining crusts of blood. His fingers barely brushed your skin when he cleaned your injury the best he could, his eyebrows twitching and apology ready at every flinch and hiss. He massaged you as he scrubbed and rinsed, trying to remove the aches and hurts from your body. Every so often, he pressed kisses into your skin, long and loving. You were fully limp by the time he washed your hair, only emitting a satisfied sigh as his fingers worked through your locks. When he finished rinsing, you reached up and pulled his face to yours, and kissed him.

“Thank you, my love. You’re much too good to me,” you said.

He tutted. “I only give you what you deserve, and even I’m not fulfilling that properly; you deserve so much more. You are my everything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and that I pushed you away. I’m sorry that I snapped and swore at—”

He cut you off with a kiss, this one more urgent. “You have nothing to apologize for. Ever. I’m the one who should be sorry. I failed you.”

You sat up straighter. “What? How could you have failed me?”

“I should have been there for you, but I stayed behind. I should have made sure you weren’t alone, or been selfish enough to ask you to stay.” He ran his thumb over your cheekbone, his face full of regret.

“No, no. You’ve done more for me than you could ever imagine. You made me feel safe, you always make me feel safe. It was my own stupid mistake, not yours.”

Sanji’s mouth twitched upwards only a little, and you could tell he was still beating himself up, that no matter what you said, a small part of him would always blame himself. He would just never know how truly amazing he was.

You sighed and kissed him softly, on his mouth, his nose, his cheeks and then his mouth again. “Will you lay with me?”

“Of course.”

“For a long, long time?”

“Yes.”

“For however long I want you too?”

“There is not a single demand of yours that I would ever deny.”

You were being needy, taking more and more of Sanji than you should have. But it was impossible not to when he made you feel like heaven. You were ready to let him dress you and coddle you for a lot longer, and looked forward to a cuddle session that lasted hours.

With Sanji around, there wasn’t ever anything to worry about.

better to reign in hell, than to serve in heaven - Suguru Geto x Reader

Warnings: explicit smut, dub/noncon, mega manipulative Suguru, minor spoilers for the Premature Death arc (this takes place between that and 0)

Word Count: 14,332

eeeyah writing based on manga is harder than on anime or games! Hopefully I did him justice, I really love Suguru. Like. A lot. A looot. Also I have a voice kink for his Japanese va so… there’s that. This is a generic plot I KNOW however, this is my sleepover so I get to choose the cliché!!!

//

Living alone suited you. Well, having your own bathroom you didn’t have to share with anyone else suited you.  You were of the strong opinion that a nice, hot shower could fix anything. It washed the blood, sweat, and grime from your skin, eased the tension in your shoulders. It helped you breathe easier. For as long as you could remember, that was your go to. Bad day? Shower. Lost a fight? Shower. Feeling sad? Shower. Regretting everything you’ve ever done? Shower. The mindless pitter-patter of water on the floor, against your shoulders, spinning in a bubbly whirlpool before draining away. Sometimes, you imagined it was a torrential downpour that would wash the world away in a flood. Sometimes you turned your face upward and imagined drowning in it, your lungs filled with water and body bloated and blue. Sometimes you closed your eyes and pressed your cheek to the cold tile and just breathed. In and out, slow and steady. You didn’t need to listen to the parade of thoughts in your head, you could just lose yourself in the deluge.

You blinked, a shiver running down your spine. At some point, the water had begun to run cold. The pipes squeaked when you turned off the stream, its steady thrum replaced with a rhythmic drip, drip, drip and the soft whoosh of the plumbing behind the walls.

It hadn’t been a bad day, not really. None of them were bad days. This was what you wanted. Peace and mediocrity. A normal life. The shaggy rug was soft on your feet, squishing between your toes. Mechanically, you dried off and slathered yourself in lotion, the movements holding an air of ritual. This was what you wanted. Again and again, until the meaning of the words was lost. Even then, you clung to the syllables themselves, hiding behind them as protection from your thoughts.

You pulled on your pajamas and brushed the tangles from your hair, wiping the steam from the mirror to see your face reflected in those blurry streaks. It was you, the same old you. Tired and worn, despite your best efforts. But still you. The mirror fogged back over. You turned away.

Opening the door let a cloud of floral-scented steam into the main room of your apartment, the cooler air brushing your damp, flushed skin and making you shiver. You flicked off the bathroom light and balanced against the doorway so you could put on socks, struggling to do so one-handed.

The truth was that, right then, you didn’t feel any sort of paranoia. You didn’t get the tingling sense that something was amiss. You were distracted by your own internal turmoil. You had grown complacent. You put too much trust in the safety of your apartment complex, the additional locks you’d fitted onto the door, and your subscription to a third party security system. No, it was only when you noticed movement out of the corner of your eye that you thought to cast a cursory glance over your apartment. Your dark kitchen, the living room with furniture you were still paying off, the mess of paperwork scattered across the coffee table, and the person on your sofa.

Comprehension struck with an inharmonic resonance of bronze and steel right in the pit of your stomach, metallic fear zipping through you. There was somebody in your apartment. You didn’t scream, you were above that, but your audible intake of breath and the thump of your foot hitting the floor was dangerously loud in the hollow absence of the bathroom fan’s hum.

Fight was, of course, your first instinct, cursed energy sparking to life in your gut. A normal person was nothing to a semi-Grade One jujutsu sorcerer, even one who was retired and weaponless.

But that was stupid, wasn’t it? If it were a normal person, it was unlikely they’d be able to get through the security measures. If it were a normal person, blind and unconscious fear wouldn’t have frozen you solid right in the doorway between your humid dark bathroom and the dimly lit den. Because although it was dark and although you were panicked, recognition struck you with the same near-instant jolt as the fear did. You knew, on a deep and base level. And you knew that he wasn’t normal.

Suguru Geto had draped himself across your couch on his side like he had every right to be there, one of his legs bent up and the other stretched out across the edge of the sofa. He lounged comfortably, his head lolling into one hand while the other held a phone. The blue light of the screen illuminated his face—that achingly familiar sculpted nose and jaw, those thin brows, the strands of dark hair flipped over his forehead. He didn’t even look up, too engrossed in whatever he was looking at.

This couldn’t be real.

Keep reading

so are we just gonna act like milo and morbius didn’t almost make out like 10 times

Sony doesn't realize that the gay romance main plot of venom was what made it successful. Morbius doesn't have that.

It's not enough to just be a villain of Spiderman's.

You must have the pure, sizzling, compelling homoeroticism of being in love with what makes you evil.

What makes you go feral.

Without it, no dice.

Sorry not sorry-

Tagging: @marisyworks @legendarydinosaurhologram @hxnnigrxms

i would have booped you my brother, my captain, my king