Chapter Text
“Can’t, I- I can’t.” Sanji whines out, thighs closed as tight as she can manage, squishing the hand between them.
“Yes you can.” Law states plainly, bringing her other hand over to pry her legs open. Sanji, her legs visibly shaking, fights against Law’s tug.
“No, No- ’s too much.” Sanji slurs out, fighting both to keep her teary eyes open and to keep her legs shut against Law’s prying.
“You can do it, you’ve done it before.” Law states plainly, giving up her fight against Sanji’s quivering thighs to try and talk the blonde back into it. They’ve done this dance before, and Law knows that Sanji loves this feeling as much as herself.
Sometimes the blonde just needs a reminder.
“Ngh- Can’t! Too much, Law.” Sanji starts to relax her thighs, but when the hand between them starts to move she shuts them tight.
Typically, Law gets insistent by now.
But today seems to be different.
Law's palm moves up and sideways instead of forward, making Sanji flinch and tighten her thighs once more. Law caresses her pectineus, sticky fingers running over the blonde’s long legs in what would be a comforting gesture if not for the fact that Sanji’s slick covers those fingers.
Law runs her hand like that, up and down her thigh, and Sanji’s locked muscles begin to relax.
“It’s alright, amante. If you need a break we’ll take a break.” Law says soothingly, continuing to rub Sanji’s thigh. Sanji relaxes further at the term of endearment. Law calls it that loosely, because she doesn’t like calling Sanji’s name during these little parts of sex where she needs reassurance or whatnot. Too personal. So, ‘amante’ it is.
Law means ‘amante’ as in flame, an easy word to say that is befitting of the blonde. Not ‘amante’ in the way Doffy means when she quirks an eyebrow of the sight of Law with a well-made meal and a few fresh hickeys, or in the way Cora makes an effort to invite Luffy’s group of friends to every party thrown in her sister’s mansion, only to corner the other blonde and talk to her for at least an hour of the night.
Not ‘amante’ as in ‘lover’, although that wouldn’t be far from the truth. But it is. Law doesn’t do love, or affection, or romance in general.
So then why does Sanji get a nickname? Why does she get to make Law rewrite her carefully crafted rules?
Because you lo-
“But I don’t think you want a break, amante. Not yet. You like to make me feel good. Watching you squirm on my fingers makes me feel good, so good , and it makes you feel good too. Don’t you want to make me feel good?”
Law rarely uses this sweet talk, if it could even be called that. It’s not sweet talk, it’s sex talk, but she’s never been so gentle and she can tell Sanji wasn’t expecting it. Law’s never soft, inside of bed or out. This never happens.
Of course, Sanji’s face tells Law how much she doesn’t hate it either.
Law found out about Sanji’s thing for praise during their third time together. They had been heatedly making out on the sofa in Law’s library, Law in Sanji’s lap, crowding the girl against the back of her favorite chair. Law had ground her hips against one of Sanji’s thighs in an attempt to move into the woman further, and muttered a “God, so good, don’t move.” Sanji had let out a whine, and stayed entirely still for the next twenty minutes Law had spent working herself on the woman’s thigh until she realized that the blonde was sitting there, head up and neck stretched so he was facing the ceiling, letting Law do whatever she pleased.
Law had spent the night seeing how much she could get away with when she added some praise. She was not disappointed.
Sanji, at Law’s words, lets out a long winded whine, legs falling open limply. Law brings her release-slicked fingers - covered in four of Sanji’s climaxes - up to the blonde's lips. She gently pushes them past the bitten and spit slicked lips, and Sanji’s mouth greedily sucks them in, swirling her tongue round the digits. Sanji looks Law in her eyes as she moves her tongue, eyes so full of tears that she looked like she was in a haze.
She wasn’t there yet, Law should know. A hazy Sanji knew to keep her legs open. This Sanji is just a bit… overwhelmed.
“Y’look so good with my fingers in your mouth, beautiful, work ‘em so well.” Law praises, voice mimicking that of someone pleased. “D’ya think you can take ‘em again? I bet you can. I bet you want to, am I right?”
‘Beautiful’
That’s the only part that sticks in Sanji’s pleasure-muddled brain at first. Law called her beautiful, which is fucking news because the only thing she typically calls her is ‘amante’, whatever that means in Spanish. Sanji knows a similar word in her own tongue, but Law calling her paramour is absurd. That would never happen. Not that she minds the nickname - no, quite the opposite - but this? Beautiful?
Sanji’s head moves up and down in a nod of affirmation quickly, causing Law’s fingers to slip out of her lax mouth and drag spit down her chin. Sanji’s head almost lolls to the side from the movement as she tries to fight through the clutter in her mind to respond. She pushes her legs apart manually, moving her hands from their grips on the side of Law’s bed to the insides of her knees to pull them back and away from each other, losing her balance as she does so. Law catches her, one hand on her back to keep her up and the other behind Sanji to keep them both from tumbling.
Law rights Sanji, then slips off the side of her bed and to her knees. She drags Sanji’s open legs along with her, pushing them apart over the edge of her bed. She looks up at Sanji, planting a soft kiss on the inside of each of her knees.
“Words, amante.”
Sanji’s mouth immediately snaps open, always eager to please.
“I- yes, I wannit. Je- je suis désolé, je pensais que non. Please forgive me, let me have it, I wanna be good.” Sanji pleads, whining in a way oh-so sweet to Law’s ears. Law smirks, this is what she likes when it comes to the blonde like this.
Oh, the power Law’s words have over the woman above her.
And the power her pleas have over Law’s mind.
“Shh, it’s okay. You're okay, I’ll give you what you want.” Law shushes the blonde, pressing kisses further up her thighs.
Sanji whimpers at the contact, not used to this being so sweet . Yeah, they kiss, but that’s either in a heated make out or an open-mouthed press to skin. It’s never deliberate. There’s never any serious reassurance or anything of the sort. This is… new.
And it scares the shit out of Sanji.
So instead of trying to dwell on her thoughts in this state, Sanji grabs Law’s face, cupping it gently. Law turns her cheek into the palm, giving the fingers she can reach small kisses. Law twists her face further into the hand, touching light, small kisses to Sanji’s palm. Sanji’s thumb rubs circles into Law’s cheek, and for moments they sit in silence, only broken by laboring breaths and the soft sound of lips meeting a hand.
Sanji surprises herself. She tries to tug Law up towards her face, the subtle pull making Law rise to meet her. Their noses press together slightly.
Sanji’s working on barely coherent thoughts and her desires, with the latter running the show. Her mind goes from ‘oh, she’s kissing my hand’ to ‘you should kiss her’ in a matter of seconds, and before the rational part of Sanji’s brain catches up she kisses Trafalgar D Water Law, spread naked on her bed, for what seems like the first time.
It’s not their first time locking lips.
But it’s the first time they do it just because. There’s nothing to get out of this kiss. No precursor to sex, no benefit to this kiss. It’s slow, sweet, and everything Law promised herself wouldn’t happen with Sanji.
Sanji’s the one who pulls away first, faces still meet inches apart, and slides her hand from Law’s face. She moves it to one of the hands on her knees, grabbing lightly at Law’s wrist and moving the hand to the space between her thighs.
Law quickly gets the message. Slowly, she moves her eyes from Sanji to the area where her hand resides. She takes two fingers - her pointer and middle - and rubs them against her cunt, pushing them forward and into the girl as Sanji lets out a cry.
Sanji’s voice is incredibly strained, throat hurting from all the babbling, screaming, and moaning she had been doing since earlier this evening. Even so, she couldn’t stop talking if she wanted to.
“Th’nk you-” Sanji manages to squeak out something coherent, followed by another long moan as Law moves her finger in and out of the blonde at a calm, steady pace.
Calm . Law. During sex . Sanji’s most likely hallucinating from the orgasms she’s had.
“You're welcome, good girl. Such good manners.” Law chuckles, spreading her fingers wide inside Sanji. “So pretty, take it so well.”
That last comment makes Sanji moan . Sanji didn’t know that Law could be this accommodating during sex, and while the niorette typically praises her - well, praise is putting it generously - after sex, she never gave her what she wanted during the moment unless Law actively benefited. But now, Law’s working her to a fifth release without even reaching one herself, calling her pretty and beautiful.
And god , if Law’s tongue feels good against her cunt and spitting insults at her, then Sanji must be in heaven with how this filthy praise is making her feel.
Sanji can’t do anything but writhe and wail, sputtering out nonsense at Law’s languid movements. The lazy thrusting of fingers makes Sanji’s back curl, hips jerking left and right in an attempt to take more.
“S’good. ‘ll be s’good, please, laisse moi l'avoir.” Sanji babbles, Law quirking an eyebrow at the younger woman as she thrusts her fingers in once more, deep and strong.
“L- heh- lemme havit-” Sanji pants out a translation. “Want more, ple-e-ease!” Her syllables are separated by full body jerks due to Law’s fingers.
“Anything you want, amante. I just wanna-” Law is interrupted by a scream from Sanji as she roughly shoves another finger into the blonde's cunt. Law picks back up her slow, torcherous pace. “Wanna make you come twice more, just like this. Finish you off on my tongue, clean you up good. You want that, baby?”
Sanji nods furiously, clinging on to the ‘more’ and the ‘baby’. Law is offering her everything she could want right now, so sweet, and Sanji can’t help herself in craving it.
“Want it, wannit bad. Please.” Sanji stutters out, her words stretched into whimpers.
Law chuckles, a sound that almost seems fond to Sanji’s clearly deceived ears, and speaks softly.
“Of course, amante, perfect girl. You earned it.”
When Law finally lays down next to boneless Sanji, it’s a bit over an hour later. She went a little over the intended seven orgasms for the girl - hitting ten, but that’s not Law’s fault because the blonde was begging for it and she could say no - but if the droopy almost-smile on the other woman’s face said anything it was that she did not care that they went over the intended number. Law turns her head to face the boneless blonde, reaching out a hand to tuck a stray piece of sweat plastered hair behind her ear.
“Waz wit’ the touchy-feely? Thought’cha didn’t do that.” Sanji slurs out, the raspy voice painted a shade of amused. Law snorts, tugging lightly at a strand of hair.
“I’m not being ‘touchy-feely’, I’m trying to get you up. You gotta shower if you’re sleeping here tonight.” Another new thing that Law shouldn’t be allowing, but just looking at marked pale skin, flowing blonde hair, and those teary, bloodshot blue eyes makes her relaxed - when’s the last time she’s felt relaxed ? - brain make the bad decision without further consideration.
Sanji is clearly surprised by the invitation, but she doesn’t have enough brainpower to process the situation - ten orgasms will do that to a girl. So, she just sighs.
“C’nt.”
“Oh?” Law asks, amused.
“Can’t move. ‘m numb.”
Law chuckles.
“Here,” She gets off the side of the bed, walking over to the side Sanji’s sprawled out on her bed. Poor girl couldn’t even move from where Law had laid her last.
Law sets a hand on Sanji’s back, leaning forward.
“You want help?”
“Please.”
Law chuckles slightly, shifting Sanji until she’s in a seated-like position, scooping her up into a princess style carry. She gently wraps an arm under Sanji’s legs, holding her back close to her chest as she makes her way to the bathroom attached to her room.
“Bath?”
Sanji nods, feeling even more off-put by the fact that Law is being fucking caring - what the hell? - just nods.
Law sets Sanji on the sink counter, turning and running the water for Sanji’s soak. They sit in relative silence, the sound of the filling basin the only noise in the room. Once she’s sure the temper is right and that Sanji won’t drown, Law turns to the other occupant of the room.
“I’m just gonna set you in here. Are you good to bathe yourself?”
Sanji makes sure her lips are sealed shut before she takes the time to process Law’s words and actions. First off, the sex itself had gone from Law trying to wring Sanji dry to her doing that, yes, but with feeling. While praising the shit out of her. Then, she fucking carried her into the bathroom, and is now offering to bathe her if she can’t.
Who is this bitch and what happened to the cold woman she started hooking up with six months ago? Because this can’t be the same person that made her walk herself to the bathroom after watching Sanji cum three times on a giant ass glass dildo that Law asked her to ride, literally fucking it into her when she had tried to take a break, then had ushered her out the door at one in the morning because her mother would be there an noon the next day. Noon .
“M’good. Help me over?” Sanji finally settles on, because Sanji needs to try and get her head back on before Law stops being kind and makes her leave.
Law walks over, picks her up the same way she did off the bed, and walks Sanji over to the tub. She sets her down gently, then proceeds to walk to the door, turning and looking at the bare woman in her tub.
“Call me in when you're done.”
“M’kay.”
And with that, Law turns and walks to her bed, sitting down and preparing herself for the inevitable mental crisis that will take place the second Sanji leaves in the morning.
She can compartmentalize this, she can define her behavior, she can excuse this, find a valid reason-
Law hears a crash from in the bathroom. Oh, she’s been spiraling for the past ten minutes. She makes her way over to the bathroom, opening the door on Sanji standing at the sink, gripping it like it’s her lifeline. Sanji’s legs are shaking like there’s no tomorrow, and the woman jumps slightly as she sees Law in the doorway. This causes her to fall, barely having the upper body strength to keep herself upright as her legs give out, slowly descending to the floor.
“Sanji,” She says, tone laced with fond concern, “Do you need help?”
The woman on the ground sighs, letting go of the counter.
“Please?”
Law makes her way over to the blonde, who’s staring at the floor, mind seemingly drifting. Law crouched in front of her, watching her face.
“What’s on your mind?”
“You didn’t cum.”
And it’s true. Law spent the time she would usually spend riding Sanji’s face or fingers wringing orgasm after orgasm from the blonde.
“It’s fine, I didn’t want to tonight.”
“Y’sure?”
“Yes, amante, I’m sure. Now arms out, I’m going to carry you.”
Law never didn’t cum. Never. The whole point of her side of this arrangement, or at least what she had told Sanji when they first started this thing, was for her to let loose and get laid. Understandable. Sanji’s here for that too.
But Law calls the shots, and Law never before had disregarded her drive for pleasure from the situation. It always felt like they were mutually using each other because that’s what they were.
But this is different.
Sanji’s in the other woman’s bed before she can realize it, set down on a towel laid out on the side of the bed. Law is changing into sweats and a band tee, contrary to the wrinkled button up and slacks she had worn throughout their activities.
Sanji dries herself off, wincing as she pulls the towel from underneath her. She dries off her top half, making it down her thighs before she can’t move down further, bending over making her grimace in discomfort bordering pain.
Law grabs her a pair of underwear and a shirt to slip into, moving over and handing them to her. Sanji nods her thanks, slipping the shirt over her head. She sits as Law watches her, wanting to finish drying off and get in bed but not being able to without letting out a noise of discomfort.
She decides to suck up her pride, breathing in and looking up at Law.
“D’you think you could finish drying my legs and put these on me please?”
Law just nods, and Sanji lets out her breath. It’s a little embarrassing, but Law’s being so nonchalant about it that it clearly doesn’t matter.
Unlike Sanji’s belief, Law feels nothing casual about how she kneels at the edge of the bed, drying off the rest of Sanji’s legs gently. This isn’t normal, I don’t do this, is all Law can think as she dries Sanji’s feet, setting the towel to the side and grabbing the underwear she had handed to the blonde.
This is too close, too personal. And it’s breaking her rules.
Rule twelve is keep aftercare short and simple. Don’t do too much, keep the uncaring attitude, but be courteous. This whole situation shatters that rule to shit, she carried Sanji to the bathroom. Not very detached, if Law does say so herself.
Rule eighteen is that touching should be minimal after sex, and here she is dressing her. Rule six, no kissing unless it’s sexual - which was edited for Sanji from no kissing lips - is being put to question. Rule two, get what you want first, has been trampled over by several women looking suspiciously similar to the one in her bed right now.
Rule after rule after rule, put into question and tested by one particular blond who seems to not understand what she’s doing to Law.
Law rises, walking around Sanji and laying down next to her.
She looks over at the blonde as she settles down, sighing as she sees how tense Sanji looks. Law lifts the comforter.
“Relax. You're not intruding. Rest before you go.”
Sanji nods, shifting under the blanket. A bone-deep tiredness seems to hit her then, and her eyes droop.
“‘ll be out by ten, promise.” Is what Sanji sleepily slurs out before she falls into a deep sleep, remembering one of Law’s rules - rule seven - when Law herself forgot. Law looks at the sleeping woman fondly, before realizing what she’s doing and snapping herself out of it. She lays down, deciding to indulge just this once and plays with the ends of Sanji’s long hair, twisting the strands closest to her as she drifts off and into sleep.
In the night, two bodies drift close together, the larger wrapping around the smaller. They stay like that until they wake up, and then some.
There goes rule ten, fucking tossed out a window, and all the universe can do is watch it fall to its brutal death among a rocky floor ten stories down.
Sanji’s out at 10:30, thirty minutes after rule seven’s diction. Law is currently having an internal crisis over the loss of such a long-time friend, while also trying to reason internally about how this is a ‘one time thing because I slept in’ and how ‘ten can be unreasonable to get myself up at sometimes, maybe I should drop the time to eleven instead’ as she eats the most delicious blueberry pancakes she’s even eaten, covered in what should be a disgustingly sugary glaze that Sanji whipped up with the bare remnants of Law’s confection cabinet.
The blueberry, powdered sugar, lemon, and milk glaze tastes fucking amazing, like everything else the stupid rule-destroying blonde makes.
So Law sits on a counter in her kitchen, a giant stack of extra pancakes in her lap. She dips them into a bowl of leftover glaze and contemplates what to do with her life.
That’s when the headache barges through her front door.
“Oh La-aw! How’s my favorite niece?” And in her doorway stands a flamboyant pink flamingo.
Law groans, already feeling a headache building.
“Didn’t I say you couldn’t come over until after noon? The morning is always too early to deal with you.” Law grumbles out, taking a cut triangle of pancake and dunking it into the glaze, shoving it into her mouth as Doflamingo enters her kitchen. She speaks, mouth full of food. “I th’ght I t’k y’r sp’r kee.”
Doflamingo laughs. “You’ll never be able to keep me out!”
Her aunt Doffy stops in the doorway, observing the scene in front of her with a smirk.
“You have your little girlfriend over?” Doffy calls, making Law choke on her pancake.
“Sh’s nat m’ g’rlfr’nd!” Law calls through a mouthful of pancake, narrowing her eyes at the older woman. Doflamingo guffaws, walking further into the kitchen and towards the counter Law is currently sitting on.
“So the chef was over? Better have some of those to share.” Law gestures to her cutlery drawer, and Doflamingo pulls out a fork. She stands in front of Law, cutting off a small piece of one of the untouched pancakes left of the stack of fifteen. With prompting from Law, she dunks it into the small bowl of glaze, popping it into her mouth. The second it hits her tongue, she lets out a groan.
“You think the blonde would fuck with someone older than you? I could use a breakfast like this every once in a while.” Doflamingo asks, teasing slightly. Law pulls the plate away from the other woman, who lets out a sound of protest.
“Keep your hands off her, oldie.” Law warns, still holding the plate away from the older woman.
“Relax! I’m just joking!” Doflamingo pleads, “No need to get so possessive.”
Law rolls her eyes, but sets the plate back down in her lap, cutting off another section and dumping into the sugary blueberry glaze, followed closely by Doffy doing the same thing.
“For now.” Doflamingo mutters, grabbing a side of the plate as Law goes to yank it away again. Law rolls her eyes once more - her most common facial expression when around her aunt - and keeps the plate as it is, the two women devouring the plate of perfect pancakes in front of them.
As the elderly bastard goes on about the power of being a milf or whatever the dumbass likes to yap about, Law thinks of the rush of something - possessiveness, not that she’ll name it - she got when her aunt started talking about asking the blonde for a good time. Law shoves another pancake into her mouth, removing herself from her head and deciding that her aunt's bullshit is better than anything her brain could think up right now.
God fucking dammit, I need to have sex with someone who isn’t a blonde.