Bubblyluffy - Luffy My Beloved

idk moodboard

where is luffy to save and liberate this country?

some one piece tributes ~ which character should i do next??

“he’s fictional” ummm he’s literally my soulmate

How many dreams to say "I love you?" (iv)

Summary: Zoro can't keep his feelings bottled up anymore. They've got to come out sooner or later. Will he be able to bring himself to confess how he feels, or will you beat him to it? ~5k words.

Part 4 of 4. (read part 1 here!) CW: Afab reader (w/gendered language, she/her pronouns). Reader gets drunk (sorry to those of you who abstain!), pining, tension, heart ache! (and... kissing). This is sfw but other parts of the story are very much not.

Part 4: "So, there."

Have you ever had a dream that was just emotions? No images, concrete thoughts or concepts, just raw, harrowing feelings?

The night after the encounter with the hostile pirate group, Zoro had one of those dreams. His sleep was fitful, distorted by intense feelings of worry and anxiety. He woke up early in the morning, sweating and distraught. He felt sick.

Unable to go back to sleep, he started his day. An ice-cold shower to distract himself and rinse off the stress from his dreams. He ate a sparse breakfast and sat on the deck, looking at the peaceful sea as the sun rose.

It was high time to get this over with, Zoro thought. He was tired of feeling scrambled in the head and tired of feeling guilty for evading being truthful to you. As your crewmate and best friend, you deserved his honestly. The mental gymnastics needed to end, and he needed to get this off his chest—the fact that he was in love with you—as soon as possible.

When you broke the thick chains and opaque brick concealing and masking his capacity for love (placed there by trauma and years of regret) you freed feelings that boiled and festered for many months. Your presence in his dreams and the workings of his subconscious slowly forced him to come to terms with this part of himself. The part of himself that was very much capable of love, that wanted it, and wanted you. He was forced to become acquainted with this aspect of himself, to sit with it, and to speak with it.

The self-realizations were at the same time elucidative and perturbing. What else about himself had he yet to become aware of? What else was there inside of him that he needed to recognize?

His stoicism thus far was nothing more than a farce, he told himself. To reckon with and control himself he had to be self-aware. Truly self-aware.

Zoro knew that ignoring your persistent presence in his mind and heart wasn’t going to solve any problems—it wasn’t going to aid his control over his emotions, wasn’t going to clear his head, wasn’t going to make himself feel better, and damn well wasn’t going to make you feel better. You were lodged in his heart and brain like a splinter that he couldn’t get out.

So, it was settled. Out with it. For better or for worse, it needed to happen.

The following night, the pair of you finally had drinks together and talked. You grabbed a couple bottles of sake and asked Zoro, “So, where do you want to go?”

He shrugged. “Crow’s nest?”

“That’s what I thought you would say. You love it up there.” When you smiled at him, Zoro felt like he couldn’t look at you—he was worried you see how tortured his eyes were, that you could read everything in his face.

The feeling was mutual. The tension in the air was palpable, as much as you tried to tell yourself that you were imagining it.

You were exhausted. Not from lack (or quality) of sleep, like Zoro, but the combination of the battle yesterday, your (actual) wound, and your lovesickness were crushing. Resigned and at your wits end with this man, you told yourself that if Zoro asked you the right series of questions, he would find answers for himself. You were at a breaking point.

If he prodded you for more information on why you felt like shit, he’d crack open something that should be left alone. You really didn’t want to share more about the fact that you felt alone and empty the past few weeks. But… you had a feeling that Zoro wanted to dig into the topic again. You dreaded it.

You climbed to the crow’s nest with Zoro around sunset. Opening the windows, you let in the golden rays of the setting sun and a cool breeze.

“It’s gorgeous out,” you observed, relishing the sea air that drifted in, salty and familiar. “Wow.”

The pair of you sat on a bench parallel with the row of windows. You were facing each other, straddling the bench so your knees almost touched. This was a sort of routine for you two—you used to do this frequently together, but it had been a while.

It was the early hours of sunset, right when the sun started to descend, and the horizon was stunning shades of pink, orange, and indigo. Zoro took a second to admire you as you stared out the window. Tendrils of sea air brushed your hair back, shining a heavenly shade of golden that reflected in your irises and off your cheek bones.

The make-believe you from Zoro’s dreams—the fantasy version of you that he spent every night with for the past two weeks—paled in comparison to the real you, radiant, material, tangible, and true. As he gazed at you, his heart twisted a bit.

“I love this type of sake.” You smiled once again, filling in the silence that took over the air as Zoro gawked at you. After a beat, Zoro opened the bottles, handing you one.

“It’s my favorite,” Zoro replied.

“I know it is.”

You raised your bottle for a toast. “Cheers to finally catching up after far too long!”

Your eyes flashed and Zoro’s heart did a flip. This sensation of being flustered felt so out of character, but he was caught up in the fact that tonight was the night he was going to confess.

The conversation started upbeat and friendly. You laughed together—you were one of the only people who could make Zoro laugh so hard he cried. You were making each other feel better, too. Spirits on the ship were a little low since yesterday and both you and Zoro felt it. But as you spent time together, Zoro felt a bit better because he missed you and wanted to be close to you, and he didn’t know it, but you felt the same.

You talked about Zoro’s new weight-lifting routine, some crazy dance move Usopp pulled out the other night, and the delicious soup Sanji made the other day (Zoro admitted that the shit cook’s soup was delicious, but he could only say that to you, no one else). The conversation wandered to sea kings, silly interactions with Chopper, and Franky’s new shirt (it was neon orange and camouflage, quite the attention grabber).

Your giggles made him feel like he was floating, and his smiles felt like home.

Zoro wished he could pause this moment in time and save it—that it could last forever, or that he could return to it sometimes when he wanted to. All of it was picturesque. He couldn’t believe how many of these nights you’d had together, nights that he never appreciated like he should have.

He had been in denial for months, egregiously so. He had been blind to the love for you that was brewing within him. Now that he could see his emotions for what they were, now that he was jolted and rocketed out of the opacity that locked his heart up, he could see that his love for you was plain as day. It was screaming at him, begging him.

 He was in agony, and you had suffered far too long.

Zoro’s thoughts raced while you told him some cute little story. One part of him was laser focused on your beauty and the rays of setting sun that lit your eyes up. It was breathtaking. Another part of him was trying to keep up with what you were saying, but he was distracted. And a third part of him felt intoxicated. Everything you did overwhelmed him. It was like he was being hit over the head with realization after realization—a sequence of memories flashed in his mind.

One night, two or three months ago, you two were drinking. You had gotten far too drunk and you were on the verge of falling asleep somewhere random on the deck. Your shirt rode up a bit showing your stomach, the strap of your tanktop fell down one shoulder, and your eyes were sleepy.

“Zoroooo,” you mumbled. “Wanna go to bed.”

He looked at you, tutted, and pulled his hoodie off. He then helped you put it on—it was a chilly out and he saw goosebumps on your skin. You murmured out a thank you and slumped into his arms. He sighed and scooped you up, carrying you to your room.

He liked how you felt in his arms. Your weight. Your warmth. The way your head rested on his chest. The look of you in his hoodie. How close you were. Back then he tried to ignore it.

Zoro then tucked you into bed. You looked like you were out cold, but when he pulled the covers up so you would stay warm, you opened your eyes, half-asleep. You lifted both arms up and looked at him with puppy dog eyes.

“Zorooo,” you slurred out your words, blurting them carelessly. “Wanna hug.”

He leaned over the bed and into your arms, clasping you into an embrace. You hummed and didn’t let go for a few moments. When he pulled away, you petted his hair for a second, mumbled out a “night night” and went to sleep for good.

Looking back at the moment you asked him for a hug, Zoro realized that his heart had done that twisting thing; it was butterflies. He recalled that he just stared at you for a second. Your face was peaceful, eyes heavy, lips pouting. When you petted his hair, his heart did the thing again. He ignored it.

The next morning you had been sheepish, possibly because you remembered the affection you gave him, the hug and the hair pets. You thanked him for his hoodie and he said, “no problem.” That was that.

Another memory flashed into Zoro’s mind.

Some day, months ago, you and Nami went shopping. When you came back to the boat, you both tried on your new outfits and showed each other, fashion-show style. In passing, Zoro got a glance of you in a white dress. He had to stop himself from staring. It complemented you perfectly.

Sanji practically screamed, “MY LOVEEE~ You look absolutely ravishing tonight!” Then he got down on one knee and kissed both of your hands. Zoro remembered that something about that interaction pissed him off. He remembered thinking who does that shit cook think he is, fawning over you like you were a piece of meat.

When Nami very pointedly asked Zoro what he thought of your white dress, all he said was “suits you.” Looking back at that moment, Zoro kicked himself. The dress didn’t just suit you, it was made for you. Sanji had a point. You looked ravishing. He tried not to muse on it.

Another memory blitzed into his mind, a dagger to his heart. You were having drinks in the crow’s nest just like this, many months ago. You had looked at him earnestly and said, “Zoro, I like you. I really like you.”

Was this your attempt at a confession? You continued. “I could be around you all the time—I think we make a great pair.” You had that sweet smile on your lips.

Zoro had nodded and raised his glass. “To good friends!” He didn’t really notice it then, but now he realized that your smile faltered.

Looking back at that moment, he saw that you may have been alluding to something else. He unwittingly, cruelly, friend-zoned you. It was sort of brutal. When it happened, he shrugged it off like it was nothing, hadn’t had a second thought about it. Now he wondered how deeply that must have wounded you, if you felt any sort of way about him.

The final memory that his brain threw at him (while you were in the middle of giving him your story) was the moment when he first looked at you. It was a simple moment, insignificant until he realized that he loved you.

He felt drawn to you, from day one, immediately interested in you. Right off the bat, he thought you were beautiful, brilliant, and hilarious. When he thought back on that twisting feeling, the butterfly feeling, he could tell that it happened back then, too. Something fell into place that day, whether it was fate or luck. That day, he had you and you had him.

Zoro already came to terms with the fact that he loved you, and these memories further enforced the realization that he loved you all along. He just didn’t know how to express it and never thought himself capable of that sort of emotional depth. But you changed that. You flipped a switch in his mind. It was you all along.

“Zoro?” You asked, shocking him back into the present. “Are you okay? You looked like you zoned out there for a minute.”

“Fuck, sorry. I did. What were you saying?”

You smiled, told him no worries, and the conversation continued. His eyes were glued to your face, his heart and brain felt all shaken up, and he only knew two things—he knew that he loved you, and he knew that he wanted you to know that. No matter the consequences, it needed to come out. Preferably now.

The sun set by now. The horizon was a dark purple, the stars were starting to shine overhead, and the golden rays on your skin disappeared. There was a lull in conversation. Zoro took his chance.

“How have you been feeling since we had our lunch on the deck? I remember you said you were feeling down?” He attempted to ask with casual ease though his heart was racing. He was going to get to the bottom of it. All of it. Now. The privacy was perfect, you were perfect, the setting was perfect, all of it was perfect.

Your answer was reluctant. “I’ve been okay...”

“What’s up?” Zoro avidly watched your every movement. He inspected the way your eyes fluttered and the way your lips parted.

“Ugh.” You groaned. So it was going to be like this tonight. As you expected, he wanted to revisit the subject. “I don’t know, Zoro. I’ve just been feeling weird recently.”

“How so?”

“Hmmm. I guess I’ve been feeling a bit lonely. And empty.” Your lips were pursed, looking out of the window, at the sea. You could see the moon in the reflection of the waves. All was quiet except for the sound of the sea lapping the hull of the Sunny.

“Empty?” Zoro feigned surprise. He knew you were lonely. He overheard you sob about it a couple weeks ago.

The painful truths that you had been trying to keep bottled up when he was around? They started to shake inside. They wanted out of that bottle, stat. And you could only ignore those feelings for so long before they’d fucking explode. It had to come out sooner or later.

If Zoro pressed you any more than this, you might start losing it. The explosion was imminent.

“I know it’s going to sound ridiculous because I’m surrounded with people all the time, but I just feel empty. Like…” you hesitated, “I feel like I’m missing something. Someone. I just feel so lonely.”

“Oh?” His heart was pounding. You averted your eyes for a second and he thought you looked bashful. He took note of that.

“Sometimes I just wish I had someone by my side all the time. Like someone I could share everything with? If that makes sense.”

Zoro paused. “Yeah, that makes sense. It doesn’t sound ridiculous at all.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled. He could see it now, glaringly, a sadness that lingered in your eyes. He could see it and his heart ached.

"It might sound absurd, but I’ve been craving a sort of… Well, I don’t know. A sort of company? Love, maybe?” Your voice was strained. Zoro’s breath hitched at the word ‘love’. “I just get so sad thinking about it sometimes. Like I have this profound emptiness inside. And it feels so out of reach, like that love will never happen for me. And maybe that sounds ungrateful because I have company, and I’m surrounded by my best friends all the time but… I just want a different kind of company. A different kind of love.”

You looked at him and frowned. If you said any more than that, you were worried you would start crying.

More silence for a few moments. Zoro was trying to figure out what to say.

“Why do you feel like it will never happen?” He prodded. He meant well, but that was enough to send you over the edge.

You were emotionally distressed and recently it felt like it was all coming to a head. You had been trying to flirt and send signals to Zoro for months, to no avail. Any time he was near you, you felt like you were suffocating. And now that he was asking you these things, trying to get answers or explanations out of you, you felt like you would fall apart.

The problem himself was in front of you, asking you what was wrong and why you felt like love was out of reach. You didn’t want to say anything and ruin your friendship and you were convinced he would never see you that way. It was just a blatant reminder that he didn’t care about you the way you wanted. He seemed unphased by the whole conversation—he was cautious and curious but that was nothing new.

As you started to get overwhelmed, tears welled in your eyes. What the fuck were you supposed to say to him? The risk of altering the dynamic between you two, along with the pressure of possibly altering the dynamic of the crew… You started to catastrophize. The pressure was too much.

A hot tear escaped one of your eyes and ran down your cheek. The emotions were starting to erupt, and his presence was agitating that.

“Hey, are you okay?” Zoro was concerned with your silence and frown. He hadn’t noticed the tear yet, and he thought you looked like you were about to start crying.

You shook your head and turned away from him as more tears started to flow out. Now that the tears started, they wouldn’t stop until the sadness was gone. You were trying to put a cork in that bottle of sadness, but it wasn’t working.

A moonbeam landed on the side of your wet face. Zoro realized now, catching the glint with his eyes, that you were crying. Did you just make her cry? He berated himself. You wanted to talk about love with her, and you made her fucking cry?

“Sorry, Zoro. It just gets me worked up sometimes. Hurts really bad.” Small sobs started to wrack your body.

Zoro stared at you. His heart was actively breaking—he couldn’t bear seeing you in pain like this. He had only witnessed you crying once before, on the deck when you had the conversation with Nami that started all of this.

He scooted closer to you on the bench and your knees touched. His voice was hushed and gentle. “Hey.”

Reaching a hand up, the ran it softly down your shoulder to your upper arm, a tiny movement. He repeated it, petting you, trying to give you some solace, to show you that he was there. His touch was delicate, so unexpected from him.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he continued, “and you can cry all you want. Don’t bottle it all up. I’m here for you.”

That note of sweetness you always saw in him was now bold, in full force as he comforted you. Your stomach flipped. He had never touched you like this before or seen you this emotionally vulnerable, nor you him. He said he was here for you, but how much did he mean that, and to what extent? You told yourself for the thousandth time that he would never be there in the way you needed.

“There are some things I have to bottle up, Zoro.” Your voice was almost a whisper. You were in anguish, and though your tears had stopped momentarily, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Not if it’s eating you up like this. It’s not worth it.” His hand went still.

If Zoro told you to not bottle things up, if he comforted you like this, then you might as well just fucking confess, you told yourself. But before you could force the words out of your mouth, he was one step ahead. The silence was too much for him.

His mouth went dry. Fuck it.

“You said you wanted someone to share everything with? Someone to always have by your side?” Zoro asked. “I wonder if I could do that?”

He was painfully close to you. Your knees still touched, and his hand rested on your arm. Your heart skipped a beat.

He must not have heard you right. There’s just no way. You were convinced that the situation was hopeless.

“Oh Zoro, you’re sweet, but I didn’t mean it in a friend way. I meant it in a romantic way. Like I wish I had someone to hold hands with and kiss and stuff.”

“I know.” His words hung in the air. You were dumbfounded. “How do you feel about me, really? You won’t screw anything up. Just please tell me how you feel about me. I’m going crazy.” His tone was urgent, and he leaned closer. Every inch closer made you feel dizzy.

You were immeasurably caught off guard, too stunned to speak. Meanwhile, Zoro didn’t really know how to handle himself. While you silently collected your thoughts, he started to blurt out words. When it came to this sort of thing, he didn’t have the most tact.

“I’ve been having dreams about you. Really intense ones. It’s been fucking with my head.”

“Dreams?” You asked, again not sure if you heard him right.

“When I look at you, I start to feel weird inside, like something is twisting in me. It’s driving me crazy. It’s been weeks at this point. I thought I was sick, or something, but I think it must be something else so, please, please, just tell me how you feel about me.”

“Zoro…” Your tone was cautious. He was acting weird—the comment about dreams was particularly odd—and you were too caught up in emotions to really process what he just word vomited at you. But if he was asking you questions this desperately, then he would get an answer. Might as well. Especially after what he just said.

“I feel things about you,” you began. “Intense things. I know you just see me as a friend, but… I just—my feelings are intense. It’s okay that you don’t reciprocate, and I never said anything because I didn’t want to make it weird.”

“Don’t reciprocate what?” He pushed further.

More silence. You were trying to decide how to it into words. Your mind raced.

“You won’t make it weird,” he continued, pleading. “Just tell me, really, how do you feel about me? What’s intense about it? Help me understand.”

Ugh. You didn’t have the energy to play it safe or coy right now. If you regretted it, then so be it.

No longer would this eat you up inside.

“Zoro, I’ve loved you for a long time.”

The realization hit him like lightning.

So it was him. In the conversation he overheard, where you were talking about love with Nami, you had been talking about him. You said it was hard to be around him.

It was so obvious now that his ignorance to your advances slighted you; his overt neglect to recognize to your love, his insistence that he didn’t have the capacity and could never find it—it must have hurt you deeply. Now that he knew how he felt, now that he was so sure of it, he hoped he could make it up to you. He would do anything.

You continued, your voice taking on a hurried tone. You needed to get it all out and explain yourself before he had the chance to say anything. “I know you don’t feel the same. I’ve picked up all the signals, and whenever I’ve tried to… I don’t know… flirt with you? It bounces right off you. I get it. We’re close friends and crew mates and I know we aren’t destined to become any more than that. So, there’s no need to apologize to me or anything. It’s fine, really, that you don’t see me like that. And I don’t want to make things weird, and I’m sure you don’t either, so whatever those dreams were then that’s fine. I’m happy just being your friend, you don’t need to be anything more than that, especially if it’s just out of pity. So that’s it basically. I’ve been lonely because when I spend time around you I just wish that—”

Each word you uttered pulled Zoro forward just barely. You could hardly get the words out, rambling to make the awkwardness go away and help him understand. But he cut you off mid-sentence, pressing his lips onto yours.

You went rigid, eyes open wide as he brought a palm to cup your cheek.

The kiss lasted a handful of seconds, brilliant fireworks of confusion and exhilaration coursed through you both.

You melted, easing the rigid tension of your body slowly, leaning into his lips that were softer than you could have imagined. The warmth of his palm on your cheek was comforting, familiar, and welcome.

When he pulled away, he was crimson. “Did that help at all? Did any of that loneliness go away?”

He started talking before you could answer him.

“I already said it but let me be clear,” Zoro said, “I want to be that person for you. I don’t want you to be sad anymore. I want to be that person you share everything with and always be by your side. You said you’ve loved me for a long time? I have, too. It just took me a bit longer to realize it. You’re always on my mind, even when I’m working out, or asleep, or eating... I-I count down the minutes until we talk again and your smiles just… They make my heart feel funny. I’m in love with you. There’s just nothing else these feelings could be. So, there.”

“So there?” You asked incredulously. The sudden deluge of emotions felt like a smack in the face. “Zoro, what?”

He didn’t know what to say next. This conversation didn’t go as he rehearsed it in his head and you were so shocked that you thought you’d faint.

“I said I'm in love with you. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. I’m sorry. But hopefully I didn’t confess too late—and since you feel the same maybe you’ll let me, ah, fuck, I don’t even know how this works. Like, let me hold your hand… or something? Fuck. I’m so bad at this.”

He started to get redder, turning his face away from yours and taking his hand off your shoulder. This was a whole new side of him. An innocent, sincere, earnest side. A loving side. A side you dreamed about for ages.

If that was really how he felt, then you would welcome it with open arms.

This time, you brought a hand to his cheek and softly turned it towards you. His skin was hot, his brows were furrowed and he was doing a sort of grimace.

“Zoro. You’re something else. Are you absolutely sure you feel this way? Like, are you sure sure?”

He nodded and you cracked a grin.

“You should have told me earlier. But, if you’re certain…” you trailed off and held a hand out to him, palm up.

“What?” He looked at it, confused and clueless, and you pushed it towards him again with emphasis.

“Give me your hand, Zoro.”

The swordsman reached his hand out and placed it on yours. You moved your wrist a bit and threaded your fingers together with his, giving his hand a squeeze.

“You said you wanted to hold hands. So, there.” You smiled at him, and he squeezed back, turning even redder somehow. His hand was large; it felt strong, rough, and calloused. You had wondered for many months what it would feel like resting in yours like this.

In an uncharacteristically suave move, Zoro gently dragged your hand forwards, pulling you closer to him. He brought a hand to your waist and pressed his lips on yours again.

His hand felt heavy and strong on your side and his kiss tasted faintly like alcohol. He smelled just… manly and musky. But (surprisingly) clean. He must have showered today.

How was any of this real? How long had he known that he loved you?

Would you tell the crew?

What sort of relationship would this turn into?

You tried not to get lost in the details—those could be worked out later. For now, you needed to focus on how his lips felt on yours.

When Zoro pulled away from you, he kept his face close. “No more feeling lonely or empty, okay?”

You nodded, blown away by the delightful turn of events. Never in a million years would you have guessed that this is how the conversation would go.

“If you say so. Now,” you ventured, “before we get any further, tell me more about those dreams of yours.”

< previous part | masterlist >

taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996 @theilluminatidragonqueen @becca-oak @my-name-is-heartache @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @adamwarlockislife-blog @olasz-2003 @kyllium @chibinasuu

a/n: this is how i feel posting this last part. FINALLY. i was stressing hard with this one because i wanted it to feel authentic. also what is that, eleven dreams and some change for zoro to realize and confess how he felt? on another note, thank you so much for reading this and for being patient with me. love yall so much and i cant wait to write more for you soon!

ONE PIECE 🏀 LOS ANGELES LAKERS

I just felt my frontal lobe develop

Drown in You (Sanji x Reader)

Art by tsuyomaru

Prologue: It is no secret to the crew that you know soul magic. Robin was the first to understand what you were talking about - it is, after all, a practice from a far off island whose resident have all but vanished. While she would ask you actually engaging questions, almost all the others are just begging you to use it, but you refuse to budge and show them. You tell them about it though, wistfully and reverently. At first, Sanji would beg and wax poetic about it the most of all, but as you grow closer he learns to just listen. With your deepening trust and his lack of pushing, you decide it’s time to give him a taste of the heady bliss of brushing souls.

A/N: Getting this up quick before getting back to asks 👏🏻 This was written for me to practice using my magic stuff instead of just thinking about it lol I use it constantly in daydreams so why not try to actually get it down and see if others like it too 🤷🏼‍♀️ as far as this fic goes, visualization is used to control the energy of the soul then have it flow over Sanji then all his happy chemicals go ~W O W~

Word Count: ~3.8 k

Warnings: gn reader, just so much non-sexual intimacy, ✨magic✨, flirting, pet names (all gn), Sanji being down bad, reader finding it cute, it’s more opla down bad not anime down bad in this one, besides that I think he could be read as either

Hope you enjoy guiding Sanji through feeling a soul the first time 🤍🤍🤍

Suggested Music:

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“If you relax it will help,” you instructed.

Sanji was trying his best to relax but how could he? He had seen how dreamily you talked of your experiences with this, of how comforting and relaxing and intimate it felt. After somehow convincing his way into receiving the touch from you, he was ecstatic. Then the reality of it - of how vulnerable it would leave him - started to sink in and anxiety began to taint his excitement.

You laid a hand on top of his, stopping his fingers from tapping at his thigh. You didn’t have to reach far to touch him; both of you were sitting cross-legged on the floor, so close that your knees touched. 

“Really, don’t worry,” you soothed. “We’re only brushing so you can get used to the feeling, yeah? It’ll be a lot at first, but nothing entangling or invasive. And we stop if anything’s too much.”

Sanji’s shining blue eyes took their time examining your own before turning to the floor. He hoped that looking at anything else would help him think; whenever your eyes met, his mind went blank. The patterns in the blanket separating you both from the sleeping mat didn’t help him find his words. Neither did the pillows and extra blankets encircling your seats. As you started to pull away, he felt your soft skin trail against the back of his hand and suddenly the words came.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Sanji rushed out. It took only a second for him to adjust back to flirtation. “Just got tongue-tied looking at you.” 

You giggled at the cheesy line and how flustered he was. His practiced silver tongue didn’t seem to be helping him at the moment, which was probably making him even more nervous. You took mercy on him by not pointing it out.

Instead, you offered him your other hand and he quickly slid his into your upturned palm. He settled it so that your palms nestled into each other, giving you perfect access to run your thumb back and forth over the inside of his wrist. Sanji responds with a gentle squeeze. You pull your other hand away to resituate your hand-holding on that side to mirror the other. Sanji looked between both embraces with a soft affection that had your heart skittering. A deep breath helped steer you back on task.

“Okay. If we sync our breathing it will help the whole process and keep everything moving nice and slow,” you explained. Sanji  gave you a short nod and a shaky smile. “Watch me and follow.”

You started by breathing through your nose until you felt the air refresh every corner of your lungs. Sanji held your gaze and followed the action a split second after he heard the soft sound of your inhale start. You held that air for just a moment before gently pursing your lips and slowly blowing the air through them. His eyes shot down to watch your lips and his breath left him in a short quiet sigh. The gentle breeze you blew out brushed the back of his hands. You started your next inhale fast to exaggerate the sound and it snapped him out of his trance. He smiled in apology, squinting those shiny baby blues of his, and got right back to following you.

The feeling of your lungs stretching out your ribs, and the pressure of the exiting air tingling your lips, was soothing your mind and body. The effect grew with the sounds of your own controlled breathing and amplified with Sanji’s mimicry until there was a pleasant murkiness to the edges of your thought. Judging by how hooded Sanji’s eyes had become, he was feeling it too. Time to start.

“Now keep your hands in mine, it may feel destabilizing if you pull away suddenly,” you gently warned, voice quiet in your unwillingness to disrupt the tranquil air.

“Comforting,” Sanji responded, scrunching his nose. He resettled his expression to the flirtatious one you were much more familiar with. “Promise to nurse me back to health if anything goes wrong?”

“How else am I supposed to get my favorite treats if you’re out of commission?” you teased.

“Say that you’re mine and I’ll give you all the treats the world has to offer,” he promised, earning an enabling chuckle out of you.

“Well, we’ll see if you can handle that,” you said, voice affectionate instead of condescending. “Now less talking, more breathing. I’m going to start and I want you to save your words for anything feeling uncomfortable.”

At his nod, you began.

Sanji watched with curiosity as you closed your eyes and stopped all motion except for your breathing. He thought you looked absolutely radiant sitting in the warm afternoon light cast through the porthole, drenched in bottomless peace. Matching your breath became second nature surprisingly quick, making his mind free to absorb every beloved detail of you sharing this with him and to charge with anticipation for your next move. 

He felt but he did not see - no matter how hard he stared at the feeling manifesting on his skin, whatever was moving there stayed invisible to him. It started with your hands radiating warmth out, growing so gradually that he didn’t notice until it felt like his hands were shoved in laundry fresh from the dryer. The heat held steady for a moment, turning his grip lax as it melted any tension, before he felt the sensation change and grow up his arms. It felt both liquid and air against his skin; a summer breeze that swirled and toiled like an ocean current. A shiver crept up his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Each place the sensation curled and puffed across was stuck between enlivening with an electric flush and sinking into the heaviness of a body deep in sleep. By the time it was encroaching on his shoulder, bleeding straight through his clothes as if they didn’t exist, his breathing stuttered to something of a gasp.

Your concentration faltered at the sound, offering Sanji a light reprieve as the energy lost its ability to ignore his clothing. You opened your eyes to check in on your companion and gasp too. His eyes were hazy and staring at you like you had given him his first sip of water in days. His blue irises  stood out even more above the light blush on his face, even with his love-blown pupils. You flushed at the look, but brushed it off; the first feeling is usually overwhelming and confusing and sets off many happy chemicals to douse the whole brain and body. You thought you hadn’t pushed out too much of your energy on him and it was all soothing and content, but his eyes told you that you had bombarded him with permeating affection. Too bad you couldn’t connect your energy to his to figure out precisely what he was feeling.

“Sanji, honey, talk to me,” you asked quietly, encouragingly. “What are you feeling?”

“I feel…” he started, but he trailed off and simply kept taking you in with his soft eyes. You squeezed his hands and bumped his knee with yours to jostle him a little closer to coherence.

“Sanji, is it bad?” He certainly didn’t look like it felt bad, but too much good can quickly lead that way.

“It’s… strange?” he offered. His brows scrunched from the difficulty he was having conjuring the right words. “Good strange. Breezy. Warm. It’s a lot though.”

“Too much?” you probed, already starting to lighten up the energy.

“No,” Sanji insisted, leaning towards you in his urgency. He caught the surprise in your eyes and forced himself back again. He cleared his throat. “Please.” He exhaled heavily. “Keep going, love.”

“As long as you're sure.” You took a deep breath yourself, needing to settle your own worry back into calm concentration. You gifted yourself a moment to caress his wrist with your thumb again, enjoying how soft the skin felt in comparison to his calloused fingertips. You gave one more warning: “It will peak before you adjust and it settles out.”

You did not wait for a response to continue. Shutting your eyes so sight wouldn’t battle you on your way back to your visualizations, you were back to your task. The way you’ve gotten success in controlling your own soul’s energy was with water imagery. In your mind’s eye, a lake behind your head leaked to the space between your eyes, where it poured down in a roaring waterfall. The majority of the torrent flooded down through your neck, into your ribcage, and along to the cradle of your pelvis. On the way, it bounced and flung off a boulder built of your heart and splashed to make trickles on your ribs, spine, and hips. There was, however, some water that took a different path. The highest rocks it crashed upon rested in your shoulders, making the water spray and rush its way down your arms. Its journey from rapids to stream took place along your forearms to control the flow by the time it reached your hands. There, the water became a gently swirling pool in each palm. By the time this vision had become immaculately clear to you again, Sanji’s grip had firmed back up on you.

Sanji’s nerves had worsened instead of smoothed out, but he'd be damned if he was going to back down from this. He needed to know that feeling you had tried to describe to him and the rest of the crew. And like he had said - it wasn’t bad, but it was.. startling? Unnerving? He knew the feeling was coming from his skin but it almost didn’t feel like it was his own skin; it felt like it was coming from a whole new body. It felt at once thrumming and alive as well as heavy and enveloping. He shut his eyes against the overwhelm.

With your own eyes closed, you had to use the strength and tremble of Sanji’s grip to guide you on when to pause and when to push forward. As you anticipated, the greatest reactions came when the mental water flowing from the pools in your palms up his arms snaked to wrap around his chest and then it inched further down still to dance around his waist and stomach. Through the process, he had shifted himself ever so slightly closer to you, seeking grounding and comfort in the flourish of feeling that threatened to puff his mind into smoke. Noticing his cute nudging closer, your heart burned with fierce affection for him. You had to hold yourself from releasing his hands to pull him into and embrace. That would be too much; he’s too unused to the process and you’re too unpracticed to keep the flow stable through that action.

Finally, you imagine the long journey of the water making its way over his hips and down his thighs to cover the remaining pieces of his body. All except the head. Saving it for last was generally the best idea for someone’s first time feeling the presence of a soul; the heart is where many emotions are held but the brain has the most ties to the soul. It was much better to prep it before the plunge.

“Sanji, are you doing okay? Ready for the last bit?” you checked.

“Anything you’re willing to give, love, I’ll take,” Sanji mumbled. He sounded pleasantly dazed like a drunk existing half in the waking world and half in dreams. You wished you could open your eyes to see him.

“It’s going to rise up over your head and then it should smooth out,” you explained. A lethargic hum resonating from the depths of his chest was his only response.

The conflicting reactions his body was giving to the river of air around him had begun to center slightly by the time you had spoken. All that progress went out the window when he felt little licks of wind flicking at his neck. He trembled under the electricity they buzzed along his spine, but found himself happy to be at their mercy. He felt so very alive and that in itself was stumping him. Had he been alive? Can you live before knowing a touch that feels so implicit after only a small taste? One of the few pieces of his mind that remembered the Before and that there’s an After to this experience was repeating the daunting fact that this is only the beginning of connecting to a soul. How beautifully terrifying.

More brushes of liquid air played off the skin of his neck and he found himself tilting his head back for more of it. The rise was steady, moving past the stubble of his chin, the ears peeking out from his hair, the ends of his bangs, his curled brows, and he was submerged. 

For a split second, the impulse to jump to his feet and run until he was unable to move almost overtook him. He was a lit fuze and needed to burst or surely there would be agony. But agony never came. What came was the comfort of a morning bed on a taskless day. He was surrounded by perfectly radiating body heat in a dark cocoon. The unfamiliar aspect was how he felt like he was sitting underwater, weightless and gently rocking at the whims of a constantly swaying current. He distantly thought that if he’d open his eyes he’d find the dark pits of the ocean yawning around him and all he could find in himself to think of such a haunting notion was ‘how nice’. 

Meanwhile, you were much more sure of agreeing to go through this whole thing because of how languid Sanji had become. His hands lay mostly limp in yours, except for the occasional movement of a finger to enjoy the feel of your skin. The little affections burst joy in your heart and made that path of water that your mind held flow richer and with more ease. Knowing he’d need at least several long minutes in this stage, you let yourself relax fully into your own meditation built on your rushing blue visions and his delicately moving fingertips. Just as he had learned to mirror your breaths earlier, your hands took to mimicking his own.

Time was a muddy thing from the moment he fell fully under until the moment his body was coming back to the world. It trickled in gradually, starting with the feeling of the blanket and mattress pad he sat on and ending with the brush of his clothes on his skin when he finally shifted. The great abyss around him shrunk back to the initial feeling of twirling winds over his skin. Unlike the initial feeling, this didn’t send his body and mind reeling; it left him warm and relaxed like a decadent hot oil massage. There was still a sense of being enveloped, though. It had him thinking back to the last time he had fallen asleep wrapped in the arms of another. Despite the easy comparison, there was no unsatiated hunger plaguing him from the closeness. He was at ease.

Sanji’s eyes began to blink open once they were ready, and he was glad they did. In front of him you sat as peaceful as he had ever seen you. Once he was able to move his gaze away from the little shadows your lashes cast onto your cheeks or the enchanting curves of your resting lips, he began fully taking you in. Slowly trailing his eyes over every detail, his heart swelled with love until it pressed a placid smile on his lips. The pieces he most wanted to store away in his mind forever were the content look making your face even more beautiful to him and the sight of his hands held so caringly in your own. He let out a happy sigh as he watched your thumbs trace him once more.

“Sanji?” you called softly.

“Yes, dear?”

“How are you feeling?” He almost laughed at your question.

“I feel wonderful,” he breathed out. You could hear the smile shaping his words and were struck with the bare emotion in his statement. He sounded just like he said.

“Perfect. You’ve done beautifully, sweetheart,” you spoke through your own smile. Even with your eyes closed, you could tell he was preening at your praise.

You lightened up your conscious control of your energy flowing around Sanji. It continued on its path with ease, enough that you were able to let the feeling of its circulation sustain itself instead of needing your imagery. The repetition of it over the long time spent meditating helped you to focus in on what your energy feels like. Usually, that was something too abstract for you to be able to call on straight away. It would take hours and hours more in that sensation before your brain could own and control it with ease. For now, you were good enough to latch onto it once it was there long enough so you fully release the envisioned control by blinking your eyes open.

Sanji was already looking at you. He was no longer flushed and fidgety; every roused edge of him had polished out to a serene shine. The smile stuck on his face was delicate, only pulling his lips to curl enough to press into his cheeks and threaten to crinkle his eyes. Those eyes were half-lidded but still glimmering as they looked back at you. You darted your eyes back to his smile, which now exposed a hint of his teeth between his gently parted lips.

“What now, love?” Sanji asked. He was loath to interrupt the moment, but truly needed to know what he was supposed to do now that he had reached the goal of this whole endeavor. Would you just suck the feeling out right away? Would you pull your hands from his? Would you leave him to process this whole thing alone? Leave him to starve for a taste he’d never get again?

You took one last moment to check him over before deciding to be a little self indulgent. Sure, this would help him ease back out to no soul contact more than just sitting there, but it also wasn’t absolutely necessary. You didn’t think he would mind though.

“I think we could both use a lay down and maybe a nap,” you offered, nodding your head to the side to gesture to the head of the sleeping mat. Now his smile split wide enough to scrunch his eyes.

“You’re going to spoil me rotten, love,” he jokingly admonished, already leaning himself in the direction you’d motioned towards. He wasn’t going anywhere fast though; his body felt as heavy and slow and syrupy as his mind did.

Deciding to expose more of your soft spot for him than usual, you respond, “Good. You do enough spoiling to deserve some in return.” 

The fondness in your voice let him know that it was true care offered instead of easy flirting. Hearing you send that tone his way had his supporting arm collapse under him, sending him down to his elbow. Were it any other time, he would’ve tried to hide the slip or recover quickly, but it wasn’t any other time and he simply went with it to finish crawling the short distance to the head of the mat. The movement to get to his side was more flopping than laying, but the shift to his back was at least smoother. Those lovely blue eyes fluttered closed and refused to open.

You kept close to him the whole way, smiling and snorting at his lack of grace under the influence of the new and potent headspace brought on by your own energy. Yes, you wanted to be close anyway, but it was functionally to make it easy to keep him within the swirl of your soul. Once he had surrendered to the position his body ended up in, you began adjusting him to make sure he was as comfortable as possible. An arm was saved from its strange angle, his head was raised and placed on a plush pillow, the most luxurious of your blankets was grabbed to place on him. The whole time Sanji was mumbling sweet pet names along with his thanks.

Ever since you had mentioned sleep, Sanji felt it pulling at him. It only got worse when he moved and laid down. He was existing so sweetly in a waking dream, stuck half-lucid in a body that was being tended by your very soul. He thanked whatever lucky stars were up there and shot a “thank you” to whatever past life had earned him this; he didn’t think it could get any better than the bone deep contentment that saturated him. 

That was until you laid down next to him and started snuggling into his right side.

The feeling of your warm and soft body shifting into him until you molded perfectly against each other had one more flurry of tingles and skipping heartbeats work through him. Your cheek was nestled against the top of his pec and you were happy to find that the fabric of his dress shirt felt soft against your skin. The arm that laid over him was reached out so that your hand could rest on the shoulder opposite your head. The whispering sound of your skin brushing over the fabric of his pants filled the air as you bent your right leg just enough to nestle in between his. You couldn’t help the deep, contented sigh that left you at the pleasant feeling of his thick thighs cradling one of yours. You had nearly forgotten to pull the blanket up over the two of you with how harshly the drain from concentrating and moving your energy had started to hit you. It didn’t help that Sanji was just as enviously comfortable as he looked.

Sanji drank in every touch you offered with satisfaction and serenity. Every single one seemed to solidify the heaven that wrapped his every sense in comfort and peace. His left hand managed to make its way up and hold the hand you had rested on his shoulder. His right was placed down lovingly on your waist. You mumbled something that could’ve been “sweet dreams” and he mumbled back with just as much clarity. 

With your last waking action, you gave him a gentle squeeze then fully relaxed your body into his. Sanji stayed conscious for as long as he could, basking in the feeling of being truly held.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

No Pressure Taglist: @click-and-flash-pest-captures @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @hey-august @schoute @feral-artistry @haveatthee83

Masterlist

My Goal

Summary: Sanji's goal after finding the All Blue was you. Who knew you were harder than his main goal.

Song: House Of Balloons / Glass Table Girls by The Weeknd

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶

In the sweltering kitchen of the Thousand Sunny, Sanji's eyes never failed to wander from the sizzling pans to the sultry sway of your hips as you navigated the cramped quarters with a grace that seemed to mock the chaos of a pirate ship.

His flirtations were as relentless as the sea, each one a tiny wave that crashed against the shore of your indifference. The first time he'd tried, you'd been chopping vegetables, your eyes focused solely on the task at hand.

He sailed in with a compliment, smoother than the whiskey he'd once pilfered from a Marines' ship.

"Your knife skills are sharper than my wit," he'd quipped, a rakish smile playing on his lips.

You, however, remained unfazed, not even bothering to look up from your cutting board. "And your wit is as dull as a marlin's," you replied, the blade of your knife glinting in the dim light as you sliced through a particularly tough piece of meat.

Sanji's smile had faltered, but only for a moment.

The second rejection came as you were both navigating the treacherous waters of a storm. Sanji had grabbed the ropes with a dramatic flair, muscles bulging beneath his wet shirt, and shouted to the heavens about his love for the sea and all its mysteries.

He'd glanced at you, expecting some form of admiration, perhaps even a blush to color your cheeks.

Instead, you'd rolled your eyes, your water manipulation devil fruit keeping you as dry as a bone, and said, "If you're going to be so dramatic, maybe you should join a theater troupe instead of a pirate crew."

He'd stumbled over his words, the rain beating a hasty retreat from his flustered face. Yet, his determination was as unyielding as the storm itself.

The third attempt was during a rare moment of respite on a tranquil island. As you lay on the beach, soaking in the sun, Sanji approached with a coconut drink, the straw adorned with a tiny paper parasol.

"For the most enchanting mermaid I've ever laid eyes on," he'd purred, leaning over you with a hopeful gaze.

With a sigh, you'd taken the drink, sipped it slowly, and said, "Thanks, but I prefer my beverages without a side of desperation."

His cheeks had reddened, but he hadn't moved, his hand hovering awkwardly in the air where the coconut had been.

The fourth rejection came as you both scaled the rigging to unfurl the sails. Sanji had tried to be suave, calling you "my lady of the sea," his voice carrying over the wind. You'd laughed, the sound as cool as the ocean breeze that whipped through your hair.

"Save it for someone who's actually impressed by your cheesy lines," you said, reaching for the rope with a deftness that belied your strength.

Each rejection was met with a different reaction from Sanji. Sometimes, he'd feign indifference, other times he'd laugh it off, and once he'd even pouted like a scolded child.

But the fifth time… ah, the fifth time was different.

It was as if the stars had aligned, the sea had whispered a secret into your ear, and you found yourself in a peculiar mood.

The sun had set, casting a warm glow on the ship's wooden deck. You'd been lost in thought, the gentle rocking of the waves lulling you into a sense of peace.

Sanji had approached you, his usual flirtatious grin replaced by a tentative smile.

"I know I've said this before," he began, his voice low and earnest, "but you truly are the most captivating person I've ever met."

For a moment, something in your chest fluttered like a trapped bird, and your eyes met his with a softness that surprised you both. The air between you thickened, charged with a tension that hadn't been there before.

And then, with a smirk that held a hint of mischief, you leaned in close and whispered, "Alright, you win this round, Prince."

And so, it was in that moment of unexpected surrender that Sanji's heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and excitement.

His hand, which had been resting casually on the railing, reached for yours, his fingertips brushing against your skin with the gentleness of a butterfly's wings.

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation that was as foreign to you as the concept of mercy in a pirate's world.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your cheek as he whispered, "I promise to make you feel like the most cherished treasure in all the Grand Line."

His words, though spoken softly, carried the weight of a thousand unsaid confessions and the promise of a passion that had been burning for eons.

You felt your resolve crumble like the sand beneath the relentless waves of his charm, and with a smoldering gaze, you allowed him to pull you into an embrace that was as fiery as the sunsets you'd seen together.

As your bodies melded together, the ship's timbers seemed to groan in approval, the very air around you crackling with the electricity of your newfound connection.

Sanji's hands roamed your curves with a reverence that spoke of his longing, each caress leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding in time with the rhythm of the waves, and you found yourself responding to his advances with a fervor that shocked even you.

Your lips met in a kiss that was as deep and vast as the ocean itself, a silent declaration of the tumultuous emotions that had been brewing beneath the surface for so long.

The saltwater of the sea kissed your skin as the two of you tumbled onto the deck, the planks groaning beneath your weight as you gave in to the tempest of desire that had been building for what felt like an eternity.

Sanji's mouth traveled from your lips to the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing the soft flesh there as he nipped and sucked, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair as you sought to deepen the kiss.

The taste of him was like nothing you had ever experienced, a heady blend of sweat, sea salt, and a hint of the spices that were his culinary trademark.

Your bodies moved in a dance as ancient as the tides, each touch and caress a silent promise of what was to come. Sanji's hands slipped beneath your shirt, his calloused thumbs tracing the delicate line of your collarbone, sending shivers through your body.

Your own hands roamed his broad chest, feeling the heat of his skin and the steady thump of his heart, a drumbeat to the symphony of your growing need.

The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the tempest of passion that had been brewing for so long. The gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny became the rhythm to which your bodies swayed, a metronome to the crescendo of your desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he pulled away to gaze into your eyes, the hunger in his gaze mirroring the ache in your core.

With a groan that was as primal as the sea, he lifted you into his arms and carried you below deck, the urgency in his movements belying the tenderness of his touch.

The door to your cabin slammed shut, the sound echoing through the corridor, leaving no doubt as to the intention of the pirate chef. He laid you down on your bed, the soft mattress enveloping you like a gentle embrace from Neptune himself.

The scent of the ocean and the faint hint of his cologne filled the small space, mingling with the heady aroma of your own desire.

Sanji's kisses grew more demanding as he traced a path down your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving a trail of fire that ignited every nerve ending.

His hands, once so gentle, grew bolder, exploring the curves of your body with a hunger that seemed insatiable. You felt your own hands fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

As the fabric fell away, you gasped at the sight of his sculpted chest, the muscles rippling like the waves you both knew so well.

Your fingers danced over his abs, tracing the lines of his taut muscles as if mapping the treacherous waters of the Grand Line. He groaned, the sound vibrating through you, sending a wave of need crashing through your body.

His hands found their way to the ties of your pants, deftly untying the knots with the same skill he used to navigate the ship. As the fabric fell away, you were laid bare before him, vulnerable as a shipwrecked sailor adrift in a sea of passion.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, his goal, his prize, finally within his grasp. He kissed you again, his tongue delving deep, mimicking the rhythm of the tides that pulled at the ship.

His hands moved with purpose, untying the strings of your bikini top, freeing your breasts to the coolness of the night air.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight, his eyes devouring you like a starving man before his mouth followed, his kisses a sweet agony that had you arching into him. . . . .