Salmon Pink (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
salmon_pink) wrote2007-05-13 04:21 pm
salmon_pink) wrote2007-05-13 04:21 pm
Entry tags:
- character: monkey d luffy,
- character: nami,
- character: roronoa zoro,
- character: sanji,
- character: usopp,
- fandom: one piece,
- genre: het,
- genre: slash/yaoi,
- length: 500 words-1499 words,
- pairing: monkey d luffy/sanji,
- pairing: nami/sanji,
- pairing: roronoa zoro/sanji,
- pairing: sanji/usopp,
- rating: nc-17
(One Piece) Share Alike
Title: Share Alike
Fandom: One Piece
Pairings: Usopp/Sanji, Luffy/Sanji, Nami/Sanji, Zoro/Sanji
Rating: NC-17
Words: 987
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50_smutlets, prompt "oral".
Summary: Sanji likes to taste. And Sanji likes to be tasted.
Warm, velvet heat, and Usopp has the softest, plushest lips known to man. Porn star lips, the kind that shouldn’t be legal, the kind Sanji used to fantasise about late at night on Baratie, fumbling awkwardly under the sheets. Perfectly cushioning him, gentle tease around the overly sensitive flesh, even as Usopp sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks.
Mumbling around his mouthful of Sanji’s cock, because Usopp can never stop talking, even whilst making Sanji’s eyes cross. Boasting about his technique, telling stories about the men he’s reduced to quivering wrecks with his passion, or maybe just complaining about the way his knees are pressing into the wooden floor. Sanji doesn’t know. Sanji doesn’t care.
Usopp being able to take enough of Sanji into his mouth to press his nose against Sanji’s stomach isn’t terribly impressive considering the length of said noise. But Usopp’s fist wrapped tightly around the base, squeezing and rubbing, makes up for it. Usopp always draws the most interesting noises from Sanji’s throat, creative streak stretching to playing him like an instrument. Flicks and strokes of his tongue, targeting different points, random changes in rhythm, never content to rely on the basics. Every time Usopp settles between his legs, he seems determined to create a new masterpiece of friction and reaction, and Sanji twirls his fingers through Usopp’s curls and enjoys being his muse.
*
Luffy is always kind of messy and rushed. He finds his own amusement in it, and Sanji sometimes feels as though Luffy is the one who enjoys it the most, even though it’s Sanji’s cock that’s buried in his Captain’s throat.
Not that Sanji doesn’t enjoy it. In fact, he revels in the way Luffy squirms and shifts, never still, always changing position. Sometimes between Sanji’s legs, sometimes sprawled across one thigh, sometimes hanging upside down, hips resting on Sanji’s shoulder.
Luffy laughs, randomly and frequently, and the vibration of it drives Sanji insane. Sometimes he’ll pull back to point out that Sanji’s drooling, and Sanji will kick him in the head (not hard enough to send him flying across the room, just hard enough to make his point). And then Luffy will grin and shrug, and the brief loss of sensation makes everything so much better when his lips return.
And there’ll always come a point where Luffy stops playing, where everything turns serious. Luffy sensing something in Sanji that he himself can’t sense, and then he’ll be all focus, that determination usually reserved for battle suddenly turned to the task of getting Sanji off. Translating so well, and Sanji always comes shouting, and Luffy always swallows, and it seems weird that Luffy can always make him come quickest, although that kind of feels right.
*
Nami is his favourite, and Sanji is always very vocal in making sure that she, and everyone else, knows that. Just the thought of her lips wrapped around him is enough to have him so hard he’s aching, but he always tries to retain a little decorum in front of her. Sits with his hands wrapped around the arms of his chair, knuckles white with the strain of resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair, to cup her face. Eyes usually closed, because the sight of her hooded eyes, her lips swollen and used, is too much for him. Struggles not to buck his hips, to remain still.
Nami is always slow, teasing him while giving him everything he’s ever wanted. Takes her time to lick at every inch of him, slow drag of hot tongue over heated flesh. Mapping him, familiarising herself with every contour, every valley. She can always tell how far along he is by taste and responds accordingly.
That glint that sparks in her eyes when she catches the scent of money always makes itself known as she strips away his layers, as he desperately tries to remain dignified in her presence, even as his thighs tremble and his breath comes in gasps. She knows exactly where to touch to drive him wild, yet her tongue always dances just a touch shy of where he needs it. And he finds himself babbling, begging. Mumbled declarations and frantic promises, until Nami hears something, maybe in his words, maybe in his voice, that pleases her. And then that businesslike demeanour takes over and he’s (nearly) always polite enough to warn her when their transaction is about to draw to an end.
*
Zoro presents an interesting challenge, in that Sanji is always determined to last as long as possible. To swear and spit and tell the swordsman how shit he is, even as Sanji’s hips buck up into Zoro’s iron grip on his thighs. Pressed into the floor, because Zoro always pushes him flat onto his back before taking him.
There’s no technique there, just Zoro’s complete lack of a gag reflex, and white hot suction all around him, everywhere. Light scrape of teeth and insistent press of tongue, and the back of Zoro’s throat. Sanji always tries to keep his voice in check, although he has been known to fail, especially when Zoro growls, low and deep, lips pressed against dark blonde curls and eyes slitted. Especially when Zoro takes it upon himself to find the perfect angle, deeper than Sanji even thought possible. Manipulating Sanji’s legs, spreading them, hands sliding to the back of his knees and pressing them against Sanji’s chest. Calves hooked over Zoro’s shoulders and Sanji’s hand clawing at the floor, anything to stop them tugging at Zoro’s hair.
Feeling his essence, his soul, being ripped out of him, persistent relentless suction, Zoro looming over him. Cursing and dizzy, and he can never last quite as long as he wants. Hates the sight of Zoro smirking and dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, even though he’s kind of come to crave it.
*
Craves them all, really.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairings: Usopp/Sanji, Luffy/Sanji, Nami/Sanji, Zoro/Sanji
Rating: NC-17
Words: 987
Notes: For
50_smutlets, prompt "oral". Summary: Sanji likes to taste. And Sanji likes to be tasted.
Warm, velvet heat, and Usopp has the softest, plushest lips known to man. Porn star lips, the kind that shouldn’t be legal, the kind Sanji used to fantasise about late at night on Baratie, fumbling awkwardly under the sheets. Perfectly cushioning him, gentle tease around the overly sensitive flesh, even as Usopp sucks hard enough to hollow his cheeks.
Mumbling around his mouthful of Sanji’s cock, because Usopp can never stop talking, even whilst making Sanji’s eyes cross. Boasting about his technique, telling stories about the men he’s reduced to quivering wrecks with his passion, or maybe just complaining about the way his knees are pressing into the wooden floor. Sanji doesn’t know. Sanji doesn’t care.
Usopp being able to take enough of Sanji into his mouth to press his nose against Sanji’s stomach isn’t terribly impressive considering the length of said noise. But Usopp’s fist wrapped tightly around the base, squeezing and rubbing, makes up for it. Usopp always draws the most interesting noises from Sanji’s throat, creative streak stretching to playing him like an instrument. Flicks and strokes of his tongue, targeting different points, random changes in rhythm, never content to rely on the basics. Every time Usopp settles between his legs, he seems determined to create a new masterpiece of friction and reaction, and Sanji twirls his fingers through Usopp’s curls and enjoys being his muse.
*
Luffy is always kind of messy and rushed. He finds his own amusement in it, and Sanji sometimes feels as though Luffy is the one who enjoys it the most, even though it’s Sanji’s cock that’s buried in his Captain’s throat.
Not that Sanji doesn’t enjoy it. In fact, he revels in the way Luffy squirms and shifts, never still, always changing position. Sometimes between Sanji’s legs, sometimes sprawled across one thigh, sometimes hanging upside down, hips resting on Sanji’s shoulder.
Luffy laughs, randomly and frequently, and the vibration of it drives Sanji insane. Sometimes he’ll pull back to point out that Sanji’s drooling, and Sanji will kick him in the head (not hard enough to send him flying across the room, just hard enough to make his point). And then Luffy will grin and shrug, and the brief loss of sensation makes everything so much better when his lips return.
And there’ll always come a point where Luffy stops playing, where everything turns serious. Luffy sensing something in Sanji that he himself can’t sense, and then he’ll be all focus, that determination usually reserved for battle suddenly turned to the task of getting Sanji off. Translating so well, and Sanji always comes shouting, and Luffy always swallows, and it seems weird that Luffy can always make him come quickest, although that kind of feels right.
*
Nami is his favourite, and Sanji is always very vocal in making sure that she, and everyone else, knows that. Just the thought of her lips wrapped around him is enough to have him so hard he’s aching, but he always tries to retain a little decorum in front of her. Sits with his hands wrapped around the arms of his chair, knuckles white with the strain of resisting the urge to run his fingers through her hair, to cup her face. Eyes usually closed, because the sight of her hooded eyes, her lips swollen and used, is too much for him. Struggles not to buck his hips, to remain still.
Nami is always slow, teasing him while giving him everything he’s ever wanted. Takes her time to lick at every inch of him, slow drag of hot tongue over heated flesh. Mapping him, familiarising herself with every contour, every valley. She can always tell how far along he is by taste and responds accordingly.
That glint that sparks in her eyes when she catches the scent of money always makes itself known as she strips away his layers, as he desperately tries to remain dignified in her presence, even as his thighs tremble and his breath comes in gasps. She knows exactly where to touch to drive him wild, yet her tongue always dances just a touch shy of where he needs it. And he finds himself babbling, begging. Mumbled declarations and frantic promises, until Nami hears something, maybe in his words, maybe in his voice, that pleases her. And then that businesslike demeanour takes over and he’s (nearly) always polite enough to warn her when their transaction is about to draw to an end.
*
Zoro presents an interesting challenge, in that Sanji is always determined to last as long as possible. To swear and spit and tell the swordsman how shit he is, even as Sanji’s hips buck up into Zoro’s iron grip on his thighs. Pressed into the floor, because Zoro always pushes him flat onto his back before taking him.
There’s no technique there, just Zoro’s complete lack of a gag reflex, and white hot suction all around him, everywhere. Light scrape of teeth and insistent press of tongue, and the back of Zoro’s throat. Sanji always tries to keep his voice in check, although he has been known to fail, especially when Zoro growls, low and deep, lips pressed against dark blonde curls and eyes slitted. Especially when Zoro takes it upon himself to find the perfect angle, deeper than Sanji even thought possible. Manipulating Sanji’s legs, spreading them, hands sliding to the back of his knees and pressing them against Sanji’s chest. Calves hooked over Zoro’s shoulders and Sanji’s hand clawing at the floor, anything to stop them tugging at Zoro’s hair.
Feeling his essence, his soul, being ripped out of him, persistent relentless suction, Zoro looming over him. Cursing and dizzy, and he can never last quite as long as he wants. Hates the sight of Zoro smirking and dragging the back of his hand across his mouth, even though he’s kind of come to crave it.
*
Craves them all, really.