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[cartographie]

[ By nature Nami is more of a taker than a giver aside from the times it really matters, like what she tried to do for her village, like this. There was no giving him an inch and letting him walk off with a mile instead, Sanji was here for anything Nami chose to give him, and she's found herself handing over more of herself than she bets either of them expected.

The worst (best) part of it is how right it feels being half cuddled, half earnestly pressed together in the warm bathtub with him, like it wouldn't be the most unbelievable thing for her to want to be everything and anything right back at him., to try to give him more than he can handle despite knowing how impossible it would be to try. She knows he'd take all of her, any day, every day, if their lives were the sort that allowed for the long periods of undisturbed sweetness she's certain they'd fall into. ]

You're never going to leave me alone, are you? [ It's a playful, off-handed comment, right up until Nami lets herself notice that it's impossibly soul-bearing too and that his fingers find her cunt, distracting them both, is a blessing on as many levels as that question was raw and real. In lieu of spreading her thighs like she wants to, Nami bends her knees, bringing her legs up high enough to allow his hand more freedom to move. Her mouth is hot against his, not wanting to pull back until her lungs ache for air, and when she pulls away, it's with a soft gasp, trying not to squirm against his touch as both of Sanji's hands work diligently to drive her out of her mind, leaving her arched, hips rocking slowly against his fingers before arching back against his cock. Murmuring his name before his kiss cuts her off, Nami chuckles quietly against his mouth, reaching around to card her damp fingers through his hair, heat needling through her urging her to lift herself and press against him more insistently. ]

We need to try not to flood the bathroom.

[chiffonades]

[ What he wants to say is that, of course, he’s never going to leave her alone. Sanji might normally not be greedy like she is, but when it comes to her, he is. Her affection in all its forms is like the headiest wine to a thirsty man, and the only source there is, and he wants to glut himself on it and shower his own down on her in turn. Curled up in the bathtub as they are, there’s a large part of him that’s simply happy to be here, that feels like this is fundamentally right and it’s right where they belong. He wouldn’t even need the sex, honestly. Just being intimate with her in that manner alone would easily be enough.

Of course, if he were to express all of that, it would also be impossibly soul-bearing for him. Not because he’s ashamed of heaping praise and adoration on her— he’s done that in spades since the moment they first met— but because there are questions that could follow, questions about why he’s so eager for even a drop of her affection. And the deeper they push into that territory, the more he’ll have to tell her about his life before the Baratie, before the Orbit. Those memories are beyond unpleasant and he wants to leave them exactly where they belong: buried in the past.

So he lets it slide, just like she does, smiling sweetly against her mouth as she bends her knees and gives him more access. With that, he’s able to grind the full length of his fingers against her folds and not just the tips, slowly rubbing and teasing as he groans quietly into her greedy kiss, lips aching pleasantly from the force of it. He pants softly when it breaks, eyes half-lidded as his desire for her builds, like it always does, a slow simmer starting to approach a boil as he rubs his cock against her ass with slow, purposeful flexes of his hips. He tries to time them with the strokes of his fingers, hips rising when his fingers slide down, hips lowering when his fingers grind upwards, keeping her trapped right there while a finger and thumb on his other hand pluck and roll a stiff, tight nipple between them. He smiles at her warning, mouth pressing another heated kiss against hers after she’s finished speaking, devouring it like he wants to devour the rest of her. ]

I know. [ It’s a husky murmur against her lips as his fingertips find her clit, swollen and begging for his touch, and gently rubs it in slow circles for a brief moment. His teeth nip her bottom lip and give it a tug and then he’s sliding a pair of fingers inside her, as deep as they’ll go, with a slow, lazy thrust. His smile is equal parts genuine and wicked as he presses his forehead against her and just gazes into her eyes. ] I’ll fuck you slowly, Nami. And if we want to go faster… we can always change to taking a shower instead.