(One Piece) Fleur
June 22nd, 2007 01:02![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Fleur
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Robin/Sanji
Rating: R
Words: 604
Notes: For the Sex Pollen challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sanji_is_a_slut.
Summary: It's all about good intentions, and the road to hell. Or heaven. He's not sure.
His Robin-chan is distressed and Sanji can not, will not, stand for it. She is his nakama, she is his sunrise, she is his rich silken cup of coffee, beautifully dark and exotic and endless addictive, and she should never ever look so troubled.
He’d cause the man responsible such a violent and horrific injury that he’d soon be preying for the merciful kiss of death. Except it isn’t a man responsible, so there’s nobody to punish, and no matter how hard he’d glared at the plant, he got the feeling it didn’t really care what kind of reaction its pollen caused in his charming and stunning archaeologist.
Also, he can’t help but be a little distracted, so causing injuries to others, even if there were others to cause injury to, might be out of the question after all.
His Robin-chan is distressed and Sanji can not, will not, stand for it, except for where he’s kind of squirming and blushing and not doing anything to help. At all.
“Uh, Robin-chan, should I ge-” The sentence is cut off by a rather embarrassing yelp which, even more embarrassingly, leaks from his own mouth. He curls forward instinctively, torn between pulling away and leaning into the touch, and the arm sprouting from his shoulder only shifts more frantically under his shirt in response, delicate fingers slipping over to pinch at his other nipple.
Robin is exquisite, experience and mystery radiates from her, and Sanji wishes he wasn’t quite so flushed, wasn’t sweating quite so much, wasn’t whimpering and trembling and panting and looking anything but suave and able.
Robin’s eyes look ever so slightly wild, and the expression is too much to look at, and Sanji has to turn away. But the determined frown, the focus as she tries to reel in her control, the teeth worrying at her bottom lip and the shake to her hands, none of it leaves him, no matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut.
She needs him to be there for her, and she needs him to be a man. And if ever there was a chance to impress her, this would be it, yet he can’t stop whining.
“I should get Cho-” he tries again, and the words catch in his throat as two arms grow from his hips, instantly reaching for his belt. It’s unbuckled before he can think to grab at them, and they disappear in his grasp, but he can still feel the dampness on his fingers, sweat slick pale skin, and that doesn’t help, only supplies images in his fevered mind that seem to make the situation worse.
“I’ll get help!” he practically screams, eyes wide, flailing slightly as perfectly manicured nails rake over his chest.
Robin’s eyes harden.
An arm grows from his thigh, reaching up and grabbing at his tie, and it nearly chokes him as it yanks him forward.
He blinks at the ground, then peers up at Robin, but the grip is unrelenting, keeping him bent double.
“Robin-chan?” Sanji gasps, and she’s no longer looking at him, head bowed and arms crossed in front of her, a pose he recognises all too readily from battle. She mutters something under her breath, something he can’t hear over his own racing pulse, and the skin of his back prickles and tingles as another arm grows from his spine.
“Robin?” he whispers again, and then her hand slides into the back of his trousers.
The scream shakes the entire jungle, before it turns into a messy combination of a wail and a groan.
Across the clearing, the plant quietly begins to purr.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Robin/Sanji
Rating: R
Words: 604
Notes: For the Sex Pollen challenge at
sanji_is_a_slut.Summary: It's all about good intentions, and the road to hell. Or heaven. He's not sure.
His Robin-chan is distressed and Sanji can not, will not, stand for it. She is his nakama, she is his sunrise, she is his rich silken cup of coffee, beautifully dark and exotic and endless addictive, and she should never ever look so troubled.
He’d cause the man responsible such a violent and horrific injury that he’d soon be preying for the merciful kiss of death. Except it isn’t a man responsible, so there’s nobody to punish, and no matter how hard he’d glared at the plant, he got the feeling it didn’t really care what kind of reaction its pollen caused in his charming and stunning archaeologist.
Also, he can’t help but be a little distracted, so causing injuries to others, even if there were others to cause injury to, might be out of the question after all.
His Robin-chan is distressed and Sanji can not, will not, stand for it, except for where he’s kind of squirming and blushing and not doing anything to help. At all.
“Uh, Robin-chan, should I ge-” The sentence is cut off by a rather embarrassing yelp which, even more embarrassingly, leaks from his own mouth. He curls forward instinctively, torn between pulling away and leaning into the touch, and the arm sprouting from his shoulder only shifts more frantically under his shirt in response, delicate fingers slipping over to pinch at his other nipple.
Robin is exquisite, experience and mystery radiates from her, and Sanji wishes he wasn’t quite so flushed, wasn’t sweating quite so much, wasn’t whimpering and trembling and panting and looking anything but suave and able.
Robin’s eyes look ever so slightly wild, and the expression is too much to look at, and Sanji has to turn away. But the determined frown, the focus as she tries to reel in her control, the teeth worrying at her bottom lip and the shake to her hands, none of it leaves him, no matter how tightly he squeezes his eyes shut.
She needs him to be there for her, and she needs him to be a man. And if ever there was a chance to impress her, this would be it, yet he can’t stop whining.
“I should get Cho-” he tries again, and the words catch in his throat as two arms grow from his hips, instantly reaching for his belt. It’s unbuckled before he can think to grab at them, and they disappear in his grasp, but he can still feel the dampness on his fingers, sweat slick pale skin, and that doesn’t help, only supplies images in his fevered mind that seem to make the situation worse.
“I’ll get help!” he practically screams, eyes wide, flailing slightly as perfectly manicured nails rake over his chest.
Robin’s eyes harden.
An arm grows from his thigh, reaching up and grabbing at his tie, and it nearly chokes him as it yanks him forward.
He blinks at the ground, then peers up at Robin, but the grip is unrelenting, keeping him bent double.
“Robin-chan?” Sanji gasps, and she’s no longer looking at him, head bowed and arms crossed in front of her, a pose he recognises all too readily from battle. She mutters something under her breath, something he can’t hear over his own racing pulse, and the skin of his back prickles and tingles as another arm grows from his spine.
“Robin?” he whispers again, and then her hand slides into the back of his trousers.
The scream shakes the entire jungle, before it turns into a messy combination of a wail and a groan.
Across the clearing, the plant quietly begins to purr.
no subject
Date: 22/06/2007 14:55 (UTC)