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salmon_pinkTitle: Indulgence
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Robin/Nami
Rating: NC-17
Words: 858
Timeline: Post-Alabasta
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50_smutlets, prompt "touch".
Summary: There's just the sound of her own breathing, and the feel of it.
They’re approaching a new island, and there are a million and one things to get done, and Nami doesn’t have time for distractions.
Except she’s not doing a very good job of saying no.
The carefully maintained paperwork is spread over her desk, endlessly complex series of numbers and multiplications, a meticulously planned budget, the secret to keeping the Straw Hats sailing on to each new adventure. It had become clear early on that she was the most, no, the only one qualified to take care of the crew’s monetary matters, and she doesn’t take the duty lightly.
Yet, several sheets have tumbled to the floor, and she doesn’t care enough to pick them up, can’t will herself to collect them before their order is lost to clutter and disorganisation.
She imagines, wherever on the Merry she may be, Robin is probably smiling.
Nami sighs and allows her eyes to flutter closed, just feeling the way fingers soothe over her, stroke at her sides, brush her damp hair back from her face, fingernails running maddeningly light trails up her arms. Flops back into her chair as hands push her top higher up her stomach, slipping underneath, perfectly symmetrical patterns being danced across her skin.
The arms growing from the chair legs stroke at her calves, ease off her shoes, massage at her toes and rub at her ankles, and Nami suspects she may be purring. Higher up her legs, fingers swirl lightly over her thighs, creeping higher only to brush back down, constant motions like waves that rock through her, her hips twisting in her seat, murmuring, whimpering, needing more.
Hands rub firmly at her shoulders, ease the strain from being hunched over her desk for too long, and Nami feels the tension slip from her body, feels herself relaxing into it, mind drifting further and further from paperwork and duty.
But in the short time she’s known Robin, she’s learnt well enough not to underestimate the other woman, not to try and predict her actions, and the finger that loops under her bra and snaps it against her skin has her yelping, sitting upright before being eased back against the chair, and Nami pretends to frown but she can’t help but giggle. Arches her back so nimble fingers can unhook the bra, tug the straps expertly down her shoulders, manipulating them under the sleeves of her top, and then the bra’s being tossed carelessly across the room, only for another hand to grow from her dresser and catch it before carefully laying it on the bed.
Nami feels the shift in the mood like a change in the weather, and she can almost picture Robin’s soft smile turning into something more predatory. And she wonders briefly where Robin might be, if she’s relaxing in the shade with a book or if she’s maybe in the galley with the others, watching and listening and chatting with them, none of them even the slightest bit aware of the way her hands caress Nami’s body.
And then thought leaves her as those hands begin to squeeze just a touch more forcefully, as the fingers at her legs slide higher, as her top is pushed up and over her chest, and Nami groans and lets her head fall back at the first pinch of one coral nipple. Spreads her legs wider without hesitation, and the hands still don’t touch her where she needs it, and she’s panting and she’s been teased for too long.
“Please,” she whispers, and she knows Robin hears her.
The first slide of fingers between her legs steals a gasp from her, and her hips roll into it instinctively. Already aching for it, the sensation of it shaking through her with an intensity that makes stars dance in front of her eyes. Gentle brush of fingertips, damp pressure and silken heat, drawing circles around every place she needs them to be, too many fingers moving in too many directions and stroking at her in too many different rhythms. Nami can’t quite catch herself, can’t control her laboured breathing and the way she grits her teeth and tries to follow each touch, only for it to flitter away, to refocus its effort elsewhere. Fleeting touches on the inside of her thighs, leading upwards so slowly, drawing together, shying away from only her most sensitive places. Fingers pressing inside, barest caress over that inner spot, slipping away before she can quite savour the delicious stretch of them.
Nami groans and slides lower into her chair, raising her legs to brace her feet on the desk. Utterly abandoned to Robin’s touches, to her pace, and Nami hates to let go, but she loves the way Robin always makes her do just that. Feels her heartbeat thumping against her chest, feels her muscles tremble and her body’s reaction begin to spiral, to reach the kind of heights only Robin can coax from her. And she knows that they have hours before anybody will even think to disturb her, and even longer than that before Robin will take pity on her, and Nami knows the budget will have to wait until tomorrow.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Robin/Nami
Rating: NC-17
Words: 858
Timeline: Post-Alabasta
Notes: For
50_smutlets, prompt "touch". Summary: There's just the sound of her own breathing, and the feel of it.
They’re approaching a new island, and there are a million and one things to get done, and Nami doesn’t have time for distractions.
Except she’s not doing a very good job of saying no.
The carefully maintained paperwork is spread over her desk, endlessly complex series of numbers and multiplications, a meticulously planned budget, the secret to keeping the Straw Hats sailing on to each new adventure. It had become clear early on that she was the most, no, the only one qualified to take care of the crew’s monetary matters, and she doesn’t take the duty lightly.
Yet, several sheets have tumbled to the floor, and she doesn’t care enough to pick them up, can’t will herself to collect them before their order is lost to clutter and disorganisation.
She imagines, wherever on the Merry she may be, Robin is probably smiling.
Nami sighs and allows her eyes to flutter closed, just feeling the way fingers soothe over her, stroke at her sides, brush her damp hair back from her face, fingernails running maddeningly light trails up her arms. Flops back into her chair as hands push her top higher up her stomach, slipping underneath, perfectly symmetrical patterns being danced across her skin.
The arms growing from the chair legs stroke at her calves, ease off her shoes, massage at her toes and rub at her ankles, and Nami suspects she may be purring. Higher up her legs, fingers swirl lightly over her thighs, creeping higher only to brush back down, constant motions like waves that rock through her, her hips twisting in her seat, murmuring, whimpering, needing more.
Hands rub firmly at her shoulders, ease the strain from being hunched over her desk for too long, and Nami feels the tension slip from her body, feels herself relaxing into it, mind drifting further and further from paperwork and duty.
But in the short time she’s known Robin, she’s learnt well enough not to underestimate the other woman, not to try and predict her actions, and the finger that loops under her bra and snaps it against her skin has her yelping, sitting upright before being eased back against the chair, and Nami pretends to frown but she can’t help but giggle. Arches her back so nimble fingers can unhook the bra, tug the straps expertly down her shoulders, manipulating them under the sleeves of her top, and then the bra’s being tossed carelessly across the room, only for another hand to grow from her dresser and catch it before carefully laying it on the bed.
Nami feels the shift in the mood like a change in the weather, and she can almost picture Robin’s soft smile turning into something more predatory. And she wonders briefly where Robin might be, if she’s relaxing in the shade with a book or if she’s maybe in the galley with the others, watching and listening and chatting with them, none of them even the slightest bit aware of the way her hands caress Nami’s body.
And then thought leaves her as those hands begin to squeeze just a touch more forcefully, as the fingers at her legs slide higher, as her top is pushed up and over her chest, and Nami groans and lets her head fall back at the first pinch of one coral nipple. Spreads her legs wider without hesitation, and the hands still don’t touch her where she needs it, and she’s panting and she’s been teased for too long.
“Please,” she whispers, and she knows Robin hears her.
The first slide of fingers between her legs steals a gasp from her, and her hips roll into it instinctively. Already aching for it, the sensation of it shaking through her with an intensity that makes stars dance in front of her eyes. Gentle brush of fingertips, damp pressure and silken heat, drawing circles around every place she needs them to be, too many fingers moving in too many directions and stroking at her in too many different rhythms. Nami can’t quite catch herself, can’t control her laboured breathing and the way she grits her teeth and tries to follow each touch, only for it to flitter away, to refocus its effort elsewhere. Fleeting touches on the inside of her thighs, leading upwards so slowly, drawing together, shying away from only her most sensitive places. Fingers pressing inside, barest caress over that inner spot, slipping away before she can quite savour the delicious stretch of them.
Nami groans and slides lower into her chair, raising her legs to brace her feet on the desk. Utterly abandoned to Robin’s touches, to her pace, and Nami hates to let go, but she loves the way Robin always makes her do just that. Feels her heartbeat thumping against her chest, feels her muscles tremble and her body’s reaction begin to spiral, to reach the kind of heights only Robin can coax from her. And she knows that they have hours before anybody will even think to disturb her, and even longer than that before Robin will take pity on her, and Nami knows the budget will have to wait until tomorrow.
no subject
Date: 19/11/2007 12:55 (UTC)I just got back from there, and I got a 26 out of 30!
Such is the power of lesbian smut XD
Thank you again!
no subject
Date: 21/11/2007 14:02 (UTC)