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Summary
It had become an (unfortunate) routine.
While they were in this stretch of the Grand Line, all summer all the time, you two insisted on lathering her up with sunscreen. Every day.
Luffy didn’t know what to do. It was torturous, delicious. The hands she wanted most, caressing her body from toe to tip. The way you two giggled, held her down, let her wriggle and protest as you touched and rubbed her. It was so much for poor Luffy, but she never truly fought back. Truth be told, it was a part of the day she looked forward to, second favorite after meals.
She’d started wearing her short-shorts more often, leaving her vests buttoned low, or tying up her t-shirts at the waist. The more skin, the better.