secretwritingspot

[secretwritingspot]

Blurb #2: Handle Yourself

Pairing: Shanks X Reader (OPLA or OG, up to you really)

Rating/Content Warnings: pg-13ish? No actual suggestive content, but there is suggestive language.

Summary: being a barmaid, your career necessitates dealing with creeps. This is one such case- but this time, Shanks and the rest of the Red Force are there as witness.

Disclaimer(s): creepy guy being creepy, reader is stated a woman in this, some suggestive humor. Other than that pretty light.

Empty days ticked on long, but busy nights were longer.

So was the life of a barmaid- sit around busying yourself with maintenance and cleaning in the lonely hours of the day when it was still too early for most to drink, boredom seeping through every pore.

Night brought customers at 6 or 7 and chaos after 8. The kind of chaos that made you miss the mornings, though when the morning really came you knew that would change, too.

Always wanting for the other, never satisfied with this. Greener grass, and all that.

This time, it was a busy night.

Rowdy drunkards, the townsmen no better than the pirates, shouted and sang and tripped over their feet to call you over, sometimes for unsuccessful propositions and other times for more booze. Those were more pleasant, the ones who didn't want anything from you but more booze.

At least they kept to their own. Most didn't.

Most felt the need to grace you with their presence, and very few had one that was actually tolerable. Those few, you cherished.

“Hey, love! Come have a drink with us, rest your feet!”

Speak of the devil, and a red-haired man shall appear with a bafflingly quickly emptied mug and a bright, boyish smile, waving at you as enthusiastically as if you were a passing ship and not a regular person about 4 feet away from him, at most.

You roll your eyes but the rest of your face won't seem to listen to you, lips quirking into a smile.

“Some of us have jobs, Shanks,” you throw back, a dry observation that sounds a little more fond than you meant it to.

You almost wished he would wave you off with a glare or a muttered diatribe about you being a bitch like the majority of the men who came through your bar did when you turned them down. It would be easier to understand.

Instead, he throws his head back and laughs. Pretty. Genuine. Too fucking free for your liking. Jealousy inducing. In a day's time, he could be halfway across the world.

He probably would.

“Aww, c'mon- that's hardly fair!”

“You should know better than to annoy the person serving your drinks.”

Yassop cackles at that as Shanks shakes his head like a dejected puppy. Though he's trying to look upset, he can't hold back his grin for long. It's not even a moment before he's back to laughing again, smacking Lucky Rou’s shoulder.

“Hear that, boys? She's gonna poison me!”

You fight back the smile twitching at your face as you refill their drinks. It doesn't work very well.

“I was implying I'd spit in your drink, actually.”

You know it's a mistake the moment you say it, mischievous glint lighting in his eyes as his grin goes wide, wolfish.

“Well, I don't see why a gift like that should be a threat-”

“Stop talking while you still can.”

And he does, hands up placatingly. The smug look never leaves his face. Bastard.

The moment breaks abruptly when the door slams open and you're back to business mode- standing straighter, customer-service smile on.

“Hi, welcome to Open River! Take a seat if you can find one and pick your poison.”

He looks you up and down slowly, this new man, not budging an inch for the fraction of a second you can see him appraising you. It's hardly noticable, really.

But you notice. You've learned to notice.

He grunts a response and makes his way to the bar and you take a specific kind of breath - a Lord, give me strength kind of breath - before following him back.

Shanks’ eyes never leave you, but they're no longer smiling. His teeth are, but not his eyes. None of the rest of his crew notice the man much, or the way he looks at you, only that Something Is Wrong With The Captain.

This is the other kind of pirate.

“Whiskey.”

He speaks in growls and bare exhalations of breath. Never more than three words at a time.

It is not a question.

You slide the drink over to him and keep the plastic smile on your face - the one you hope says daughter, sister, long-lost dead wife. Someone he could know and maybe, in that different way that men like this do, love. His eyes are dark and blank, though they follow the flick of your hair when your ponytail swishes behind you.

This is good. It means he, too, somehow, can be swayed.

“Leave the bottle.”

He adds, cold and condescending, when you pull back. You do, and he seems sated. For now.

Despite the crawling feeling under your skin, for a while there is peace. The man drinks in relative silence, compared to the rest. The Red-Haired Pirates call you over frequently - at least once every five minutes, you think - but they take the no every time it's given. You get the feeling from the looks on their faces that they know you really would like to join them, but this is a job and this is your shift and shift ends at closing.

You cannot drink with them, but if you spend more time on your feet walking the space by their tables than you do behind the actual bar, it's no one's business but yours.

There's no rule against talking to patrons, after all. Some might even say it made you a good hostess.

The problem is, you let yourself get wrapped up in it.

You don't even notice when the other man empties his bottle. Instead, you go behind the bar for the Red Force’s umpteenth request of a refill, happier to provide it than you're willing to admit.

“In a minute, boys!”

In all honesty, your world had largely narrowed down to that warm bubble of companionship around Shanks and his crew’s table. You didn't even see anyone else, instead hurrying to get them a new bottle with a smile on your face. You only snap back into it when you collide with a wall.

Man. A man, not a wall.

The man from before is not taller than Shanks (and really, since when had he become your go-to comparison?) but he is taller than you.

“I'm all out.”

“Ah- my mistake, sir, I apologize-”

Your words and the accompanying giggle are nervous, as stilted and off-balance as you feel in the present moment.

This, apparently, is not enough. You hand him the bottle in hopes of placating him, and for a moment you think you've done it. Then, after taking it from you with a truly off-putting smile you think is meant to be grateful, he grabs your wrist.

Your heart suddenly feels too loud and the bar too quiet.

You liked him better when he wasn't smiling.

“C'mon, little lady. Drink with me.”

“I'm sorry, but I really can't.”

It's a different kind of rejection than the one you gave Shanks and the rest of the crew. Shanks seems to have noticed, too, from the look he's giving you.

For once, a man looking at you makes you feel safer than you did before.

You try to return his gaze with one that says both ‘I'll be alright’ and ‘please keep watch just in case’.

“Aww, I'm sure you can-”

“She said she's busy, man.”

The interjection is decisive and flat, a not-so-subtle hint of a threat. This time, the bar really does go quiet. For one, short moment, everything is silence. The rest of the crew seems to realize exactly what had Shanks so upset in the first place and you can see them exchanging glances. Exchanging a plan. You glare back.

“I can handle myself, Shanks.”

You turn back to the man, who smiles like this is some sort of victory. You know his face is about to go sour before you see it happen.

“I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of me now.”

The words are terse and cold and exactly what he doesn't want to hear. You see him snarl and his new bottle tip over above your head and in a flash it happens, over far sooner than anyone would expect.

Your hand is in the hair at the back of his neck, wound tight into the strands. Your knee is in his stomach. There's a crack when his forehead hits the bar in a slam as you double him over, and he goes down without the fight you'd expect from a man his size.

He drops like a man who hasn't slept in days.

A few men on the crew whistle, others cheer. It's different when it's coming from them, you decide, and you find yourself grinning at the response.

You wipe the look off your face as quickly as you can and grab a new bottle, heading back to their table like originally intended.

You do not bother stepping over the other pirate.

When you make it to the table their drunken cheering has largely dissolved, but when they take the time to look at you they're quickly in giggles again. You can't place why.

Shanks looks at you with a raised brow as you approach, amused glint in his eyes, something suggestive in his gaze. You can't place exactly what for, but you're sure he'll tell you soon enough.

“So. Handle yourself, can you?”

His eyes go pointedly down to your chest and you squint in confusion, following them with your own. Perhaps this is why the others are giggling, perhaps-

Oh.

Oh, yeah. That.

You hadn't really processed it during the scuffle- the sudden coldness, the damp, sticky feeling that wasn't sweat.

The man with the full bottle that was now suspiciously empty on the floor next to him.

When you look down to find your white shirt soaked with booze, black bra (because of course you'd chosen black today) starkly visible under the now practically transparent, soaked fabric that clung to your skin, you feel a feeling that shouldn't be surprise but is anyway. Your face tinges pink.

When your eyes go back up to meet his, about half of the crew have hands slapped over their mouths to muffle laughter. Shanks’ face is still drawn in a smirk.

“It looks good on you.”

#red-haired shanks #shanks x reader #opla shanks #opla shanks x reader #opla #opla x reader #shanks x you #opla shanks x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla shanks x y/n #shanks x y/n

[secretwritingspot]

Blurb #1: Doe-Eyes

Pairing: Mihawk X Reader (could be OPLA or anime, your choice really)

Hi! I'm back, though in shorter form! A/N here to say that I am working on the longer form fics promised, but in the meantime I wanted y'all to at least have some crumbs while I work so I decided to do a few little blurbs. And yes, as promised, introducing a whole new character I simp for!!! We're expanding our horizons!!!

Rating/Content Warnings: PG/E for Everyone, this is really nothing but fluff

Summary: Kinda a character study??? Maybe??? Essentially, Mihawk finds yet another stray at his doorstep thanks to the devil fruit powers of Bartholomew Kuma. Mostly written from his POV.

Disclaimer(s): Definitely pre-slash because this is pre-EVERYTHING, basically a first meeting. Personalities based on LA but story elements from the anime are mentioned. EXTREMELY liberal use of italicization. You have been warned.

It was morning when he first found you.

Or, rather, you found your way to him.

He couldn't do much else but sigh at the unfortunate habit he was starting to develop. It was below his stature, taking in strays.

First the ghost. Then the rabbit. Now...

Well.

Take a few steps back. A nickname would imply he had already decided to keep you. And he had hardly decided much, especially since he couldn't even gauge your skill level, given you were out like a light on his porch. If you had been conscious, it would've been easier.

Your brows start to furrow and your eyelids twitch after a few moments, like even in your sleep his presence had been noticed.

That was interesting. Promising. That, he thought, he could work with.

Then those eyes of yours opened, and he decided maybe it would've been easier if you stayed asleep after all.

They cracked open, slow and squinting against the light of day, accustomed to the darkness of your own eyelids. It only took a moment of judgement for them to lock onto him, before any other move had been made.

You sat up gingerly. Inelegant, supplies one part of his mind. Injured, hypothesized the other.

There wasn't confusion in your gaze, so clearly it had been at least a few hours since you were dropped here. Bartholomew Kuma, he thinks, owes him a concerning amount of favors at this point.

And wine. A concerning amount of that, too.

Instead, your eyes held something calculating, yet incalculable. Knowing yet hiding, push and yet pull. That, too, was promising. Being unreadable was a hard earned skill. He knew that intimately.

Sitting up afforded you at least some dignity, but still you did not speak. Nor did you stand up - maybe you couldn't, or maybe you didn't want to need his help to do so. Both options pointed to injury, one prompted in him a begrudging respect.

"Fine, then. On your own terms."

The look you shot him at the comment wasn't quite a glare, but it wasn't far off either. You stumbled getting to your feet but reached out only to the iron railing of the stairs for assistance. Not once to him.

Respect it was, then. How unfortunate.

It took you longer than it should've to catch your breath after the simple act of standing up, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. He was not, contrary to popular belief, a goddamned medic. Some day, his colleagues would have to learn that.

You didn't break eye contact. That was what caught him the most.

You stared him down in silence for far longer than anyone should be comfortable with. He knew his gaze was a weapon, he had learned to use it as such, but not once did it seem to phase you.

No, you just stared - all big eyes that anyone else might describe as doe-like, maybe even himself if he was feeling sentimental. The eyes one would expect to find on an innocent, a child, an animal. He imagined he could see your mind working behind them, debating whether to continue the impromptu staring contest or try to speak. Which would be more likely to help your case.

What he didn't like was that he found himself looking too long.

Noticing details. The long, dark lashes around your eyes. The vivid color, pupils still blown and drowsy from sleep. The glint of something more.

With a sigh, he turned on his heel and started the short walk back to the door. He didn't need to look to know you continued your staring, planted exactly where he'd left you.

The nicknames, he had learned early on, were a necessary evil. Meant mainly to irritate at first, he soon discovered that without them, looking at his unintentional wards as anything other than ghost, rabbit, it led to an unfortunate amount of attachment.

Not that the names curbed them much. There's no getting rid of a dog once you've named it.

He thinks, when he stops at the door, that this will be a mistake. That something, this time, is different. You would need a name, wouldn't you?

And he thinks back to your eyes. Pauses. Sighs.

"...come along then, little fawn. Unless you'd rather stay out and freeze."

#dracule Mihawk #Mihawk x reader #opla Mihawk #opla Mihawk x reader #opla #opla x reader #Mihawk x you #opla Mihawk x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla Mihawk x y/n #mihawk x y/n

[secretwritingspot]

hello! i hope you're having a wonderful day. just here to say i'm in LOVE with your writing! it is so very wonderfully self indulgent, and i'm often checking back on your page to see if you've posted. i'm particularly looking forward to a second part of thighs,, that has to be one of my faves. thank u for your service towards us sanji whores <3

Thank you thank you! I do aim to be as self-indulgent as possible, and I'm glad I've found an audience who shares my little desires, and you're so welcome for the content, I hope to give you more in the future! 💕

[secretwritingspot]

Hi I absolutely love the Soft Dom Sanji series, it makes me giddy just reading it, and I had a question if there is going to be another instalment of it? It doesn't feel like it's finished, but that could just be me

If not that is totally fine, I was just wondering.

Anyway, that is all. Hope u have a wonderful day, love ur writing, luv u ❤️❤️❤️. SOOOOO byyyyyyeeee.

Hi hi hi lovely! Yeah, I definitely did plan for a third installment and maybe some shorter in-universe blurbs, so it's not over yet, don't worry! Thank you for the kind words and I hope you're having a wonderful day as well! 🩷

[secretwritingspot]

Heyheyhey!!! I know y'all have been starving and I apologize, but I have been SO swamped with school lately 😭 I thought I'd have more time because I started this blog right after coming off a break and right before starting a new one, but I've been totally busy. I do promise, though, new content is on its way and I AM working on stuff, albeit slowly. So thanks for all the lovely support, and I promise content is coming soon. Also maybeeee branching off into writing for Mihawk and Shanks??? We'll see ;)

That said, thanks for being patient with me y'all, you're the best 🩷

[secretwritingspot]

I just read through your content, and as a Sanji whore, I am FUCKING FED, thank you for the meals ma’am!! I just love your writing, it is perfect, I can’t wait to read more from you. You are a blessing for us Sanji whores ❤️❤️🥵

As a proud veteran Sanji whore myself you are SO welcome and thank you soso much!! I do my best to serve, soldier 🤝

Also hopefully you won't have to wait long since I have new stuff fairly far along in the process so...I'll leave it at that ;)

[secretwritingspot]

Masterpost!!!

I know, I know, it's been literally forever and yet somehow I haven't made one of these yet? BUT since my next semester of school is about to start and I'm swamped with a bunch of different fics (for some reason my mind thinks it makes more sense to make tiny edits to a thousand fics at once instead of just finishing one in one sitting, but oh well) I'm gifting y'all this as a consolation prize to tide you over until some new content comes out.

(don't worry too bad, though, I have 2 fics that are just about close to finished)

Fluff marked 🩷, suggestive but not explicit fics marked 🌡️, angst and/or hurt/comfort marked 💧, and smut marked 🅿️ for porn.

Sanji x Reader: (the only category for now, but I miiight start writing about others eventually... looks disrespectfully at Mihawk and Shanks)

One-Shots:

Conjugate the Ways 🌡️ - Sanji runs out of new ways to call reader pretty, so he comes up with a...new strategy. Approx. 1.3k words.

High Maintenance 🌡️ - Okay but Sanji with a high-femme reader. Like...we know how much this man likes women so I feel like he'd be all over a super femme person. Basically he has a fascination with all their fancy bath products that borders on is pervy because what do all those even do??? Eventually reader just decides to let him watch and find out.

Sea Legs 🩷💧- Soft!dom Sanji taking care of Reader with chronic pain

Series:

Thighs🌡️, (part 2 coming soon) - Approx. 2k words of Sanji having a full on breakdown because reader wore a short skirt with long socks literally once.

Too Much (Take Me Home) 🩷💧, Home is Where the Heart Is (That Heart Just Won't Stop Racing) 🩷💧 - Reader is a sub who, due to the nature of y'know like being on a pirate ship constantly has not had a single chance to relax in weeks, especially since they don't really know any of their crewmates like that. Sanji steps in to save the day.

Sleepless Nights 🩷🌡️💧(choose your own adventure), Soft Ending 🩷💧🅿️, Rough Ending💧🅿️ - Reader is suffering from a bout of insomnia that it seems nothing can fix. After many other failed attempts, they turn to Sanji for help. In a...less than appropriate way.

#masterpost #masterlist #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reade #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #opla sanji x you #by god this bitch will write

[secretwritingspot]

Bro Tumblr is out to GETTT me literally just saved a couple edits I made to a fic still in progress and it POSTED THE BITCH. Now I gotta edit all the rest on privately posted smh 😔🙏

[secretwritingspot]

Gonna be honest did not know you use the exfoliating scrub before the shampoo until I read your latest fic. You learn something new every day! Anyway, loving your stuff!

Honestly I think it's either way depending on if you do skin stuff before or after hair stuff lol (I personally do it first, hence the order in the fic) but TYTY!!! I'm so glad y'all like my silly little scenarios as they are the only things keeping me relatively hinged

[secretwritingspot]

Home is where the heart is put me on life support thanks (it's really good and possessive sanji has me kicking my feet)

Awwww tyty I'll try my bestest not to pull the plug with any of my other fics (no promises)

And...yeah. Possessive Sanji was a. Choice that I made. For no particular reason and with absolutely no biases.

(he makes my heart give out <3)

[secretwritingspot]

heyyy, so...I'm back! Just my luck, the literal DAY that I promised y'all more regular content my phone shat the bed and died so dramatically that I had to get a new one. So yeah. That's where I've been the past 3 days.

But hopefully still new content soon now that I have a replacement!

[secretwritingspot]

High Maintenance

Pairing: OPLA Sanji x Reader

COME GET Y'ALLS DINNER I'M BACKKK!!!

Rating/Content Warnings: like...pg-16ish? Idk there's nudity and a lot of suggestive shit and kinda a little bit of groping (consensual, obvs) heavy-petting I guess might be the right term? But there's no outright fucking so do with that what you will.

Summary: Okay but Sanji with a high-femme reader. Like...we know how much this man likes women so I feel like he'd be all over a super femme person. Basically he has a fascination with all their fancy bath products that borders on is pervy because what do all those even do??? Eventually reader just decides to let him watch and find out.

Disclaimer(s): Since it's directly related to the plot, reader is stated as a woman in this, so if that's uncomfy for you to read keep that in mind and keep yourself safe! This idea came to me because I just finished finals and got to properly do self care for the first time in ever and wash all the finals grime off lmfao. Also there's nothing REALLY sub!Sanji about this but also...there's vibes. Damn Taz Skylar for portraying a character so babygirl that even me, quite possibly the world's biggest sub, sees him and is like...yeah I could tell him what to do once or twice.

As much as he tried, Sanji just didn't understand.

Sure, he was far better then the others - leagues away from Luffy and Zoro in terms of hygiene - but he was still a man. And a pirate, at that.

It baffled him the sheer number of products you had- a brush, towel, some sort of sugar concoction, all for the same purpose. A more traditional shampoo, similar to the kind he used, for initially cleaning off all the (your words) "pirate grime". Another, "gentler" shampoo for your hair. Which only doubled his confusion, as he had been under the impression that all shampoo was for hair. 2 different razors, scented body wash, colorful soaps.

@@@

His eyes bend to you when you walk into the galley to move through to the bathroom - towel, change of clothes, and multiple bottles in your arms.

It isn't uncommon for you and Sanji to meet this way. He's nearly always in the kitchen, and the hall to the bathroom cuts through the galley. Still, his heart warms every time you stop and set down all the numerous - he'll never understand what all those different products could possibly do - things in your arms on your side of the counter and take a stool, smiling at him.

Without fail, you stop for a few moments every time on your way to the bath just to talk with him, and every time it makes his heart race and his breath catch happily.

"Hey, Sanji."

"Evening, love." He answers, voice deceptively easy. He hopes you'd never know just how much effort goes in to that 'easy' temperament he has around you, but sometimes he thinks it's obvious. "What brings you down here at...2:30 in the morning?"

You laugh softly when he mentions the late hour, ever the type to worry over you getting enough sleep, shrugging sheepishly.

"I could ask you the same thing."

Your (valid) argument seems to phase right through him and he ignores the question, simply raising a brow at you. You shake your head fondly, but answer anyway.

"I was on my way to take a bath. It's nicer at night, since there's less people up. More time, and quiet."

He hums in acknowledgment and keeps cooking, turning to you with a shy look on his face.

"Um...love?"

"Hm?"

You fold your arms in front of you on the counter and lean on your hands, looking at him curiously as you wait for him to continue.

He pauses, face red.

"Well...I was wondering if I...if I could ask you a question?"

You squint in amused confusion at his nervousness, eyes soft and fond as you nod. He thinks he might die.

"Yeah, shoot."

He clears his throat and looks at all the various bath products you brought with you before looking away, gesturing at the bottles.

"What do they...do?"

You snort when you realize that was really what he was so nervous over, shaking your head with a fond giggle.

"Wow, you are such a man sometimes."

Your eyes flit to the products before looking back up at him.

"Wanna be a little more specific?"

"Oh, right." He chuckles, looking embarrassed. "There's so...many?" He looks back at you, the confusion obvious on his face. "I mean...why do you need so many? Do they really all do different things? And-" He gestures to all the various products, brow raised. "Why so many different kinds of shampoo?"

Your giggles turn to full-blown laughter at his confusion, though it's not at his expense.

Okay, mostly not at his expense. Maybe a little bit.

"Oh, honey. You're cute sometimes, y'know that?"

You shake your head, rolling your eyes softly and looking at him. It's sweet, really, how embarrassed and curious he is. A very, very bad (very amusing) idea comes to your mind, and before you can think any better of it, you hear your own voice speaking.

"...want me to show you?"

He blinks almost sleepily, eyes wide.

"I- pardon?"

There's a thick silence as you watch the gears turn in his head, trying to work out if you really just said that and what the hell it means.

"What- what are you suggesting?"

You shrug, teasing smirk unfurling across your face as you sit up, cocking your head at him. It's not exactly like you can un-say what you just said, so you figure you might as well go for it. In for a penny, right?

"Exactly what I just said. You wanna know what they do, I'll show you."

You look down with coy, faux-innocence and sigh, giving him a chance to back out that you know he won't take.

"But, y'know...only if you want to."

The heavy-handed mock disappointment seems to jump start His mind again and his eyes flash with realization, a red flush starting up his neck.

"O- Oh....oh! Yeah, alright. I'd like that. Yeah. Yeah, that would be very- very, uh...helpful. Thanks."

He clears his throat, trying to sound less flustered.

It doesn't work.

You stifle a laugh at his reaction, shrugging and picking up your things. You start to walk down the hallway to the bathroom and for a few moments, he feels like he's frozen solid right where he is. You pause at the door, turning over your shoulder to look back at him teasingly.

"Well, c'mon then. Don't make me wait up."

He blinks and then he's moving towards you, feet carrying him forward before he even truly thinks about what he's doing. He follows you into the bathroom, and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears.

"Uh...okay, so, how do I- do I sit somewhere? Or...or watch? I- I don't know what's, uh..."

You shake your head with a fond giggle when he struggles to put a sentence together in his nervousness, but you decide to take pity and give him a bit more guidance.

"Alright, sit down."

You move him over to a bench and push him lightly down by the shoulder to sit back. He goes without resistance, letting you push him by two fingers and minimal pressure on his shoulder, closing the door and locking it behind you.

He sits down on the bench, blushing intensely. He doesn't know much about healthcare, but he thinks he might be having heart palpitations.

You hum to yourself quietly as you turn on the hot water, letting the bath fill while you busy yourself setting up the number of bottles and containers and miscellaneous items of yours on the edge of the tub. He shifts in his seat as you open one of the bottles and empty a bit into the bath, which immediately starts foaming as you turn to him with a teasing smile.

"I'm assuming you already know what bubble bath is?"

He nods, looking at the bath as it starts to foam, feeling like a teenager in a high school health class.

"Yeah, I know about that part." He nods slightly in relief- at least he knows something. "Just uh...never actually experienced it before."

"Never?"

Your brows furrow in surprise and confusion before you make a conscious effort to raise them, trying not to make your concern too obvious as something softens in your eyes for a moment. Sympathy, maybe.

"...well, we'll just have to do this for you sometime, then. Once you know what all of it is."

Your voice is gentler then, soft. You don't linger on the moment, looking away to stop the water once the bath is full and holding up a spherical object for him to see.

"This is a bath bomb. It's got stuff in it that makes the water turn pretty colors and smell nice and helps with your skin."

He nods, shifting again in his seat as you place the sphere into the bath. Though he's nervous, his eyes drag to every little detail, desperate to take it all in.

"Right." He mumbles, watching you throw the bath bomb into the water before his curiosity gets the better of him.

"Do you always make it this nice? With all the different...products and stuff?"

You shrug and clip your hair up messily, and he tries not to get distracted by how domestic this whole thing feels.

"When I have the time, yeah. It's...nice. A good way to relax."

You find the zipper of the dress you'd been wearing, a simple sun dress to keep you from melting in the sun or freezing from the sea breeze, fingers halting at the top as you look back at him.

"Last chance to back out, Sanji."

He swallows, eyes trailing down your body as you give him one last out. If he were more in his right mind, he'd think you were sweet for continually checking up on him.

Right now, he just thinks it's tedious.

"No, uh...no, I'm good. I am very much interested in this lesson." He clears his throat. "I would appreciate the, uh...the help."

You huff a fond laugh at his enthusiasm as his blushing gaze meets yours, shaking your head at him softly.

"Alright then."

You reach for the pull of the zipper again and slowly drag it down, slipping the dress off the taper of your shoulders, your waist, your hips. Your panties follow quickly after and your clothes all pool at your feet. You step out of them gingerly before stepping into the bath with a satisfied sigh, sinking slowly into the water with a satisfied hiss.

His eyes follow you the entire time, his heart beating at a rapid clip in his chest. He's seen other people nude before, he's had sex, but watching someone in the bath seems so...it's just...jesus. He's never done something this intimate. And yet, his eyes are glued to you.

He swallows nervously, hands starting to tremble a little bit.

For a moment he gets to see you completely bare, then the cloudy, colored water and the bubbles slowly cover you inch by inch. He can still see from your shoulders up where the water doesn't cover you. Your eyes flick back to him with a knowing smirk.

"You're staring."

It's a simple observation, though there's an undeniably teasing tone to your voice when you point it out. It isn't cold, though, or unwelcoming- the exact opposite, in fact. It's an amused little poke at his more perverted tendencies, but one that makes no judgement on him for it.

It sounds suspiciously like approval.

His mouth is almost agape, mind replaying the scene of every inch of you disappearing behind the clouds of bubbles and soap over and over again. It's like a scene from a romance novel.

(Despite the others' teasing, he's never actually read a romance novel. He assumes this is what they're like.)

He flushes and his eyes flick away from you, resolutely staring at the wall to your right.

"I- I didn't mean to, uh...I- I'm-"

"It's alright."

You quiet his stammering immediately, sending him a quick wink. Again, your tone sounds suspiciously of approval.

"I don't mind."

You sigh in contentedness at the warmth of the bath, taking a moment to just relax into the warmth before grabbing a cloth.

"So, you still want that lesson?"

He looks back at you, his blush red and steadily getting darker He nods slowly, blinking dizzily at the sight of you.

"Yes please."

He whispers, voice hoarse and cracking with equal parts nervousness and excitement. "Please and thank you." He adds softly, biting his lips and nodding again, eyes wide.

You giggle at his obvious excitement, leaning over the edge of the tub to grab a cloth and looking at him coyly with the knowledge that it would give him a teasing glimpse of your chest.

"Right, well- this is an exfoliating towel."

You lift it up to show him on the word "this" as if to emphasize your words before dunking the rough cloth gently underwater to wet it, attempting to explain in terms he can understand- his cooking utensils.

"It's like...polishing a knife. You start with a rougher grit and work your way down."

His eyes widen at the teasing glimpse of your chest as you dunk the towel in. He's embarrassed to find himself a bit breathless, his mind definitely not in the proper place right now.

"Ah..." He nods in understanding, trying to calm his flustered nerves and look away from your body. "So, you'd use this...after you were in the bubble bath, I guess?"

"During."

You correct lightly, beginning to scrub your skin with the wet cloth. To Sanji, it's nothing but a massive tease- first scrubbing each of your arms, then across your shoulders, neck, collar-bones. Each second seems to stretch into hours and he seriously starts to doubt his sanity.

To his disappointment, you scrub down your chest, stomach, hips below the water where he can't see much other than the occasional flash of color from the hot pink cloth.

"It makes your skin smooth, makes it easier to shave, clears off gunk and dead skin. Keeps me..."

But then, you lift your leg out of the water and point it. His mind short-circuits completely as you give him far too good of a view, meticulously scrubbing down one leg before putting it back underwater and repeating the process with the other. Legs, legs - he's heard he has nice ones before and he's never quite understood it but this, you, now - he thinks he could die happy between yours.

You notice, of course, the way his eyes magnetize to your skin. Once finished, you continue the words you'd trailed off on, voice soft and teasing as you wink at him.

"...y'know, soft to the touch."

His eyes follow you, watching you scrub and reveal each body part with a slight flutter in his chest. He swallows, unable to move, his eyes glued to you. Said eyes go wide when you reveal your legs, your bare thighs something he never thought he'd get to see. He swallows, trying not to make it obvious he's staring.

"Yes, I, uh...I believe I understand. It helps make things...soft." He chuckles nervously, trying to play down how obviously flustered he is.

You put down the cloth once you're finished scrubbing down your whole body, thoroughly entertained by his nervousness. You pick up a small jar next, holding it up briefly to show it to him before opening it and gently scooping out a bit of thick paste and rubbing it onto your legs, again giving him a downright sinful view.

"Y'know how I mentioned working your way down to a lower grit? Well, this is that. It's a sugar scrub, pretty much the same purpose. Moisturizes and exfoliates to keep my skin soft."

He watches each moment of you scrubbing, and each bit you reveal of your body. He's got no clue where to look, if he's allowed to look. Even seeing your legs...oh god.

He must be allowed to look, right? Surely he must.

He bites his lip and nods, fingers nervously tapping on his knee as he tries to focus back on anything else, looking away in an attempt to look more respectful than he's feeling at the moment.

"That's, uh...that's a lot of work to put into your skin just for softness."

"Well, you should see how soft it is."

You shoot back with a wink, using another dollop of the paste to exfoliate your upper chest and shoulders.

He notices that you use it on fewer, more specific areas- which he supposes makes sense, since it's a much more finite resource than the cloth. The observation seems much more meaningful to a mind trying to focus on anything other than your body.

Not that it's easy.

Nothing about this is easy.

"Do you just...do this a lot? With your skin, I mean." He asks nervously, eyes wide in wonder that someone would put this much effort into something so baseline...or that someone like you would feel the need to do anything to your angelic appearance.

He clears his throat.

"Y'know...not that you should have to. You look beautiful either way."

"Not always. Or- not fully to this extent."

You smile softly with a shrug, steam swirling in the air around you. All of it seems so effortless. He can't seem to catch his breath. After scrubbing the mixture into your skin for a few moments, you rinse it off with the bath water, expression zen and almost bored like you haven't completely altered the rest of his natural life.

"This is usually what I do when I want to feel...extra nice. When I've got a date, or something else I want to look nice for."

You explain, rinsing yourself off thoroughly before picking up your razor, starting to shave your legs while you talk to him, teasing lightly-

"I take it I don't have to explain shaving to you?"

He blushes a little harder, his eyes going to your legs as you shave them. Oh god, this is making him so nervous. His body is buzzing with anticipation and nerves and...other things.

"Uh...well, no, I uh...I know how to shave. But I guess I'm- I've never been this close to a woman while she shaves, I suppose." He gulps, his words getting softer the further he talks, like he might run out of air. He bites his lip. "But I think I get the idea."

You hum in equal parts acknowledgment and amusement, finishing up shaving in comfortable silence- arms, under arms, legs. The process goes relatively quickly before you set the razor back down, picking up another bottle and a plush looking ball of tight-nit net fabric.

"This is a lufa. And the bottle is body wash."

You keep your explanations simple so as not to confuse him too much. You know he'll be having a tough time focusing on your words as is, especially considering that he has precisely 0 experience with this sort of thing, and you don't want to overwhelm the poor thing.

You hold up the ball for him to see for a moment before uncapping the bottle, pouring a bit of the soapy liquid onto the fabric and rubbing it across your skin. You trace along your neck, chest, shoulders, the sponge-like ball of fabric leaving trails of fluffy bubbles in its path. The sight only makes it harder for him to cope, the bubbles not leaving much of anything to the imagination.

Still, it only adds to the romance-novel story-book scene in his mind, leaving his thoughts alarmingly warm and fuzzy.

He blushes and sighs, eyes glued the entire time. His body is humming with anticipation, his mind is getting hazy. He doesn't know how to handle this, how to handle you- the way you look right now, the way you talk, the person you are. His chest is fluttering, and he's blushing up a storm. Oh god, you look so nice.

"What's that do?"

His voice is hoarse and breathless, the words barely escaping his lips.

"It's a bit like soap, but more...I don't know, luxurious feeling."

You close your eyes in contentedness and move the lufa across your body, much more thorough with this than anything else. As far as he can see, there's not a single spot you don't reach, leaving fluffy trails of bubbles that slowly dissolve when they sink back underwater.

"The lufa is also kinda an exfoliant, but a much more gentle one."

He watches every moment of it with complete fascination, not sure where to look with the lufa in front of you. It's basically impossible not to look at your curves and your body at this point. You're stunningly beautiful in this moment, and he's so close to you he can see her every little detail. His eyes can't move away, and he swallows, nodding.

"I...oh. It looks like it feels nice." He chuckles in his nervousness. "And, uh...it probably smells nice too, I'm guessing..?"

"It certainly does both of those things."

You confirm with a soft, gentle laugh, amused and teasing yes, but more fond and...almost intimate than before.

"I mean, there's not much point taking a bath if you don't come out smelling like a cupcake."

You joke lightly, holding the lufa underwater to let the bubbles fizzle out and then wringing it out and setting it aside to let it dry.

His eyes follow the motions of you wringing out the lufa and he watches your body intently. He's staring at you a little too much, he knows. He can almost see...everything. His breath is coming a little heavy, and he finds his mind is getting more and more hazy as you go.

"A cupcake...?" He swallows, his voice almost cracking. "That's an oddly specific smell. Like... like, vanilla?"

"It's just a figure of speech. Smelling like anything sweet, really. Vanilla, chocolate, fruit, flowers."

You wave a dismissive hand with a giggle, talking to him absentmindedly as you let your hair down from where you had it clipped up and out of the way, shaking it out once you let it down. Slowly, you slide down in the bath until your hair is wet, wiping the wet strands from your face.

"This one is vanilla, though."

You tease with a wink, holding up a bottle of shampoo before opening the lid and pouring a bit into your hand. It only takes you a moment of lathering it before it suds and you can start working the bubbles into your hair.

Sanji, meanwhile, is having a bit of a crisis.

He swallows, feeling his body go a little limp at the sight of you in the bathtub, wet strands of hair hanging over your face. His eyes are glued to you again, and he's getting...so distracted.

He manages to speak, though his words are slow and not quite as coherent as before.

"I- you look...so pretty. Your hair looks great like that." He mumbles quietly, voice hoarse and breathy.

"It's a cleansing shampoo. Probably close to the kind you and the boys use."

You huff a soft laugh at his mumbled praise, shaking your head fondly. He's always been sweet, but there's something particularly cute about him when he's flustered like this.

"That just means it's harsher. Better for getting everything off, since being a pirate isn't exactly the cleanest job. It isn't great for your hair, though."

You explain in a soft hum, leaning your head back again to rinse your hair off gently, running your fingers through it. And trying to shake the thoughts of the boys' 5-in-1 shampoo from your head.

You look like an angel, or a mermaid. He can't decide which.

He smiles, his eyes glancing over your body every once in a while, though mostly he finds himself focused on your face and your hair in particular. Your expression is so...so...ugh. You look like a goddess, hair dripping with water and skin wet from the bath.

"So, you...you want your hair to look nice then. Not just clean."

You nod your head and hum in confirmation, uncapping a different bottle with a smile and pouring some of the liquid inside into your hand.

"That's what this shampoo is for. Still cleans, but it's not as harsh or stripping as the other one."

"So it's not as good as getting all of the pirate grime out of your hair, but it keeps your hair soft, shiny, healthy. All that good stuff."

You lather the new liquid in your hair, massaging it into your scalp with a soft, contented sigh at the relaxing feeling as it quickly turns to white suds.

He swallows, his eyes locked onto you and your hair, watching it shimmer and gleam with the water and product soaking through it. God, you're so...your hair shines like glass, and he can't stop staring at it.

"Uh, do you...d'you want help with that?" He asks quickly, his breath catching in his throat. "I mean-" He mumbles, cutting himself off sheepishly. "Do you need any help?"

Your eyes widen slightly at his enthusiasm, an amused smile quickly growing on your face. You look off to the middle distance for a moment with a dramatic sigh in mock consideration before looking back at him, quirking a finger forward in permission.

"Well, go on then."

He swallows and then nods eagerly, leaning forward slowly. He leans close, his cheeks blushing a little bit as the scent of your hair tickles his nose. He reaches out gingerly, like he's not sure if he's allowed, before rubbing the shampoo into your hair.

His lungs stop working.

Really, his breath just hitches in his throat again, only a second as he blinks once. But he's convinced his body is giving out. Oh god, you want him to touch you. Oh, god, you're letting him touch you.

"Just..." He trails off quietly, his voice breaking a little breathily as he tilts your head back softly to give himself better access.

You practically purr at the touch when he massages the shampoo into your scalp, your neck, your hair, leaning into his touch as your eyes flutter shut with a sigh.

"You're good with your hands, aren't you?"

You observe softly, letting him continue to wash and rinse your hair. His passion for the task is palpable, though you could've guessed as much with the fixation he always had on your bath products, equal parts curious and perverted.

His blush deepens quickly, and his hands shake as his fingers brushing against you carefully.

"Uhm..." He chokes slightly, clearing his throat. "I- I guess I am. I like doing things with my hands." He swallows, words coming out a little hoarse. His fingers move back to your hair.

"I can tell."

You remark teasingly, voice soft as you shoot him a wink before closing your eyes again. Once the shampoo is all rinsed from your hair, you direct him softly, voice quiet in clear relaxation-

"Conditioner. Purple bottle by your hand."

He scrambles to uncap the bottle as soon as you speak, eager to have been given permission to continue, pouring a small amount into his hands before brushing his fingers through your hair.

"'s for making your hair smoother. Keeps it from breaking if you comb it too much."

You explain absentmindedly. This one is new- it doesn't fizz up in his hands or create bubbling foam in your hair, just absorbs into the strands, smooth and slick and shiny.

He rubs his hands together, spreading out the conditioner throughout your hair, working it to its core. His breathing is a little shaky as his fingers glide through your hair, but he does his best not to show it. His eyes are still focused on you, and his heart is beating too fast.

He swallows, the scent of your conditioner filling his nose and his mind.

"How do you...find the time for all this? That's a lot of bottles, and a lot of work to just...make your hair nice."

"It's worth it. It's...relaxing. Like meditation. Or cooking something familiar."

You add on second thought, relating back to him to help him understand. When the conditioner is worked into your hair, you toss him a towel to dry his hands on once he's rinsed them off.

"Now go sit back down. Lesson's almost over."

You instruct softly, voice gentle and fond. He doesn't think before moving back to the bench and sitting back down, though his brows furrow endearingly in confusion. You just laugh lightly.

"Not every bath product is something you use in the actual bath."

He nods, expression confused, but he doesn't ask for elaboration. His eyes are still glued to your body, the sight of you in the bath still stunning. It's almost hypnotic to just sit back and watch. He clears his throat, looking around the bath curiously with a hint of confusion on his face.

"So...what's left?"

"...you'll see."

Is the eventual, cryptic answer he gets after a pause, you still smirking slightly. Then you- oh. Oh. You stand up, pulling the plug in the bath and letting the water drain as you step out to stand on the bath mat, completely bare and wet and dripping and oh, god- you grab a medium sized towel and lightly dry your hair until it's no longer dripping, still damp but not actively in your way, clipping it up again as you pat the rest of your body dry softly, humming to yourself as you work.

You scoff lightly at the question, shaking your head in fond amusement without looking up, still focused on drying yourself off.

"Wait, are you...are you not going to wear anything else? I mean...I'm not complaining, I like looking at you, but...aren't you cold?" He asks, still staring at you excitedly. Your hair is up again, and every inch of your body is on display. He's practically drooling.

Oh, god, this is a blessing.

'I'm gonna put on clothes eventually, Sanji. Like I told you, I'm not done yet."

Once you deem your level of dryness acceptable enough, you pick up another jar and open the lid, scooping out a bit of a much thicker cream.

"Moisturizer."

You answer before he even has the will to ask, eyes meeting his for a moment with a fond smirk as you rub the cream onto your body.

"Smells nice, and keeps your skin soft."

He stares at you as you rub the moisturizer on your body, his eyes going everywhere as you move. Every inch of your body is incredible, and he keeps finding new places to look.

He swallows, his expression a mix of admiration, shock, and excitement.

"Do... do you want any help with that?" He asks nervously.

It would be a lie to say he's asking for innocent reasons. Seeing your hands - small, soft, yours - massage the moisturizer into every inch of your body, your legs, thighs, hips, arms, stomach, neck- Jesus, your tits- his mind is on fire.

"Aww, are you offering? Sure, Sanji. You can help."

You answer, voice teasing like you know exactly what he's thinking, and- wait. That's- he actually- you gave him permission? You actually said yes? It takes him a moment to process the words, mind tripping over itself in surprise and oh fuck yes, Jesus Christ.

That's exactly what he's offering, and he doesn't have the mind to hide it. He nods eagerly, his expression telling you everything you need to know.

He scoots over closer, his hand reaching for the moisturizer and his eyes glued on your breasts now. They look so good. He applies the cream directly there, the touch of his hands on your soft skin causing him a burst of electricity as he touches you gently. Oh god, you're letting him... he's touching you! It's like his mind is exploding, and he's doing his best to contain himself.

He's definitely not going to let you do this alone, anyway. It's too much of a blessing, and his hands are trembling, even as he works them into your skin. He's trying to focus on keeping himself from getting too excited, but seeing you like this is too much to handle. He licks his lips nervously as his hands flit all over your body. His mind screams at him to do something, do more, but the years of chivalry drilled into him stay his hands.

You almost laugh when he immediately decides to start at your breasts, rolling your eyes fondly at the predictable move.

You aren't really surprised but then again, you still let him.

Soon enough the moisturizer has sunken into your skin and you press him back lightly by the chest, using those same fingers to tilt his chin up softly. You angle his head up at you, voice soft with a gentle smirk on your face.

"Thanks for the help, Sanji."

He swallows, looking up at you. His lips are parted and his breath is heavy. He blinks slowly. He's...he can't believe just how lucky he is.

"Of-of course. It was nice to...it was nice to help someone...someone so beautiful." He says, his voice breathless and his cheeks flushed a bright, bright red.

You huff a fond little laugh, mussing up his hair with your hand.

It takes a moment for him to grow aware of his surroundings again. Aware of anything. The tile is cool beneath his knees and - when did he get there? - the air is thick with steam but slowly thinning. The scent of you still lingers, or the scent of your myriad of products, he's not sure. And...those.

You're gone in a flurry as quickly as you came, a sleep shirt and a pair of panties thrown on before he can even process that you're moving, a teasing pat on the cheek and a repetition of "well, thanks anyway!" And then...you're gone.

Like a mirage or a daydream, the kind he never lets himself have in public (not that any of his effort has stopped him, really).

That's an entirely separate problem for him to tackle. He groans.

His budget can't handle frivolous expenses, but now he can't get the thought out of his head of wrapping his fist around himself with some of that fancy moisturizer that smells like you as lube and...shit, he's gonna have to buy a bottle, before he goes insane.

Ah, fuck, who is he kidding? He's never going to be able to do so much as take a bath without jerking off again.

#vinsmoke sanji #sanji x reader #opla sanji #opla sanji x reader #opla #opla x reader #sanji x you #opla Sanji x you #opla x you #one piece #one piece live action #one piece x reader #one piece x you #opla x y/n #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x you

[secretwritingspot]

Your soft dom Sanji series is going to be the death of me. It hits something deep in my submissive little soul and just...ugggggggh so good. While I love a good D/s smut piece, it's been amazing to see works that explore that intimate/emotional part of the space too.

Thank you for filling a space I didn't know I needed!

Awwww, no thank YOU for being soso sweet! Trust me writing it is sometimes the death of ME so I get it, soft!dom Sanji simply has too much power.

And I agree with you completely! Love me a good smutty d/s piece, but I am also an emotionally volatile wreck who is WAYYY too into the emotional/intimate scenes/parts of the dynamic, which there's very little content for.

No need for thanks, though it's greatly appreciated! I saw an unrepresented niche and the submissive little writer in me simply could not stand for it!

[secretwritingspot]

I LOVED your five that you did for me, I actually reread it today in bed whilst eating dinner, because I was recovering from a rough few days pain wise, and I thought of another idea for Sanji if you felt comfortable writing it.

GN reader who is a picky eater and thus is VERY protective over the foods they do like, especially since they have to defend their food against Luffy’s bottomless stomach, and perhaps how Sanji would react after they shared some of food that they cooked with him, something they don't do for anyone else.

Ooh, I love this idea! I'm so glad you liked the last fic and I'll definitely add this to my WIPs, though it might be a while because I have a lot at the moment 😭 but it's definitely on the list!

(and don't tell anyone but hopefully some new content should be out soon because some of my WIPs are very very VERY close to being done in the editing stage but shhh)

[secretwritingspot]

finally watching OG one piece and like. damn. y'all were NOT kidding about Nami and Vivi my little gay heart is so irregular about them

[secretwritingspot]

Cackling at "Prince of Stupid Kingdom" and "That Thing" in particular

oh my god how can you be so married

[secretwritingspot]

i want to be dissolved in your writing like salt in hot water

(in a good way)

Congratulations this is both the funniest and best compliment I've ever gotten. I'm just picturing like when you're boiling water to make pasta and you gotta put a little sprinkle of salt in there. Impeccable imagery. 10/10