Of Blue Shirts and Possessive Swordsmen.
Summary: Zoro has unhealthy obsession with Sanji's blue shirt. And Sanji doesn't mind it at all. Merry Go time frame. Pure PWP. Yaoi.
Pairing: Zoro/Sanji. ZoSan.
Warnings: Not beta-read. Mature rating says for itself. Rimming. Spanking. 'Cause it's a pirate smut.
Dedication: For my awesome nakama crystalbluefox. I wrote it with the sole purpose to thank you Nille for helping me with reaching a 30th review mark in my Perfect Warrior fic and it's also my late Easter gift to you, babe. Hope you won't nosebleed too much over it, we don't want a repeat a la Sanji-kun, yeah? *laughs*
Note: Any comments or critique are welcome and appreciated, am not exactly confident writing this pairing and how they sex each other up, it's my first official attempt, but I tried to make them as badass and IC as I could. Tell me how I did, m'kay? *grins*
[edit:] Recommended lyrics Nine Inch Nails - I Wanna Fuck You Like An Animal. Guh. Hotness!
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters nor am I making any money writing this story.
…
Golden hair. Sun-kissed skin. Deadly, quivering muscles. Long—ohsolong—taut legs.
And that baby blueblueblue shirt.
The sight alone was driving Zoro nearly over the edge. To all that's holy—it was by far his favorite shirt Sanji was wearing.
The dishwater splashed repetitively over Sanji's shirt sleeves, soaking them nearly to his elbows. Half way opened, it showed off the blond's irresistible neck, collarbones and muscles of his pectorals. It complemented perfectly the shit cook's much paler than Zoro's own complexion. To the point it was making the swordsman slightly dazed while he couldn't avert his eyes from watching every move Sanji made in the day.
There was definitely something fascinating about how the thin piece of cloth was wrapping the cook. Just like a ribbon tied around one of Sanji's finest bottles of wines he presented to the girls only. Instead off hiding the beautiful curves it was harmonized with it, bringing out its grace and beauty, and making it ten times more appealing and pleasurable to the eye. Although he knew it was just a visual stimulation, but he would never—ever— dare to rip it off of Sanji like some uncultured brute the cook called him so often.
No. He'd take his time with it. Cherish it like the most delicate and helpless creature. Treat it not like some replaceable thing, but like a living being that can actually feel.
He'd be sure to pour all of his passion while he'd be tracing lines over the blue fabrics with his fingertips. Trailing over each firm as steel muscle and hard bone that hid underneath it. Memorizing every dip and every arc. Putting it down to memory for later time, when the cook would have one of his bitchy fits. Those were the moments the only thing he could count on would be his dick showed in left hand where he usually held Yubashiri. Instead of making deadly arcs with the sword, he'd be busy executing different practiced movements of up and down, polishing his forth sword.
But right now the swordsman knew Sanji was at his mercy. Too far gone in the pleasurable haze. With lust clouding the cook's senses turning him into a pitiful, whimpering mass of almost shattered nerves.
That was one of Zoro's favorite moments of the day. And he didn't mind loosing precious nap time, as long as he was presented with a needy and demanding sight of his lover. Unabashedly flexing his weapon that was Sanji's own body and pleading wordlessly for more—fucking more, you dickhead—more—
Zoro's inner animal purred at the utterly erotic display and pushed the swordsman to do more. To make Sanji's body shake and tremble. To make the blond whine and curse incoherently while he'd be balls deep, pummeling his silky, hot and vice-tight insides. The mental image made Zoro groan. He stopped with the teasing then.
His hand gripped more firmly Sanji's long cock and squeezed. Zoro could feel those impossibly sturdy legs start quivering from strain and frustration. It was making Zoro so fucking hot it was short of painful when nearly half the blood in his body rushed to his southern regions, leaving him dizzy. Feeling the violent blood rush in his cock and an answering pulse in Sanji's prick—Zoro couldn't stop but release a lustful moan at the sensation.
During such moments he could barely stick two coherent thoughts together, or try to remember anything that was more arousing than making the Blackleg Sanji feel fucking weak on his legs.
And it was purely from pleasure, too.
Zoro wanted to laugh at the turn of events. Nothing could stop Sanji from obtaining his goal if it was depending on the sheer force and power of the blond. Zoro knew it first-hand. The strength and the drive the blond had were nearly equal to Zoro's though different things spurred them on. That's why the realization Zoro was able to shatter Sanji's prince-like façade and make the blond nearly beg for more was comparable to a shot of ecstasy to some addicts' deprived system.
The swordsman's inner animal growled with appreciation at the gorgeous sight of disheveled and aroused blond before him. An ugly head of possessiveness and ownership rose inside of Zoro at the passing thought how he would slash anyone daring to put sex, hot and cook in the same sentence.
Zoro accepted this part of himself. His primal wants—he embraced them, wholeheartedly. Denial would only slow him down at most crucial moments, he concluded, after he had come to the realization he was nearly unhealthily obsessed with the blond, foul-mouthed and stunning chef.
And this obsession with Sanji slowly but surely started rivaling the attachment the swordsman had for his swords. Being a fearless former Bounty Hunter and now a pirate he took it in stride and didn't even think of running away from a challenge. Because it was one of the greatest challenges he had ever faced.
Comradeship. Trust. Lust. And…
Love.
The swordsman was ripped out of his musings. The chocked groan in that smoker's husky tone of voice made Zoro focus more intently on the prey, bended over the sink before his starved eyes and mouth.
Sanji had a trouble with sticking some words together, but he managed to voice a sentence. It was interrupted by panting due to shortness of breath he experienced and not-quite-aware that he was voicing—grunting sounds of pleasure.
"Nnnh, fuck! What in bloody hell is taking you so... damnnnnnh... long, you bastard marimo!? Though, I guess expecting anything more from someone who lazes on the deck all day long is... nnnnhh fuck!... a goddamn fucking impossibility!" Sanji practically growled the words like a furious animal, frustrated and teased by the swordsman to the point it was making him crack and proceed to fucking demand from Zoro to stop this goddamn torture and get down to business, or else—
Zoro's breath hitched and his cock pulsed painfully at the display of cook's way of demanding—in Sanji's eyes, or plain begging in Zoro's eyes—for more.
Overwhelmed, Zoro realized he also couldn't wait any longer or his dick would burst.
He dove with his mouth and sinfully skilled tongue between Sanji's perfect arse cheeks, giving the cook's opening a long swipe and next proceeded to wiggle the dexterous muscle inside the tight orifice. The lusty whine released from Sanji's pink lips was backed by Zoro's own domineering growl. He let go of cook's dick in favour of opening Sanji up to get a better access to his goal. He licked around the puckered opening with delight, tasting the cleanness of Sanji. He relished in the hitched, breathless gasps the cook tried so hard to keep under control and failed in doing so.
Zoro knew it was just a matter of time. He could feel Sanji's body responding and opening up like a lotus's flower to each of his touches. Unconsciously, Sanji widened his stance and bended lower over the sink, unmindful of the loose tie that became soaked in the soapy water and giving Zoro a perfect access to act like a true backdoor bandit he was. In—then out— then in—and repeat. Zoro was sure Sanji didn't realize he was doing it but the blond started making a shallow thrusts back and forth whenever Zoro's tongue was about to breach his opening and only teasingly slid up and down and around the pluckered opening.
Sanji felt like he was drowning. He could only gasp, cuss and babble incoherently. The teasing touches of Zoro's skilled tongue were almost punishing in their fleetingness.
Fuck, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'mgonnadie—
The blond could envision reaching his breaking point so strongly it was messing with his mind.
Saliva was marking Zoro's chin but he didn't pause. His tongue trained by fighting constantly with Wado in his mouth was merciless. The moment he pushed through Sanji's tight ring of muscles the response was immediate. Sanji's legs buckled underneath him. Long, drawn out moan Sanji tried to suppress while biting on his bottom lip told Zoro how much the cook enjoyed it even though he tried to pretend otherwise. Zoro prolonged the sweet torture, fucking Sanji deeper and deeper, slicking his insides as much as he could and wiggling it in every direction creating the most mind-blowing sensations Sanji ever knew existed. The friction produced left Sanji holding himself up on the verge of the sink, legs long ago ceased to support him and only Zoro's firm grip was still holding him up.
His breaths turned into ragged gasps and the blond couldn't stay focused anymore. Thoughts short-circuiting, reminding fried cables after an electric discharge. Right now the only thing he could focus on was Zoro's bruising grip on his ass and his warm tongue lathering his puckered opening up with repetitive thrusts.
"Mother of fucking ...God!"
Sanji screamed reaching senses overloaded when Zoro cupped the cook's balls and started molding them. He wanted to kick Zoro over the tight signaling for the fucking tease to move the fucking hand faster, and preferably over his nearly purple cock, giving the blond what he has been dying for the last few minutes. But he didn't move. Or more like he couldn't muster enough strength and disturb the pace Zoro kept while tongue-screwing the sexy blond.
The pleasurable strokes were sending shocks up Sanji's spine, rendering him immobile and at mercy of the swordsman's hands and tongue. With each lick he was closer and closer to release. But—Zoro wouldn't live up to his reputation of being a stubborn fucktard if he ever did anything Sanji wanted. This time too, there was a sudden shift and Zoro's tongue previously licking around Sanji's opening paused and withdrew at leisure pace, giving few kittenish licks and making the cook release helpless whines Zoro was sure he wasn't totally aware he was voicing.
Ah, what would Zoro give to have a camera with him and catch this very moment for his own personal satisfaction? But fate is cruel like that and everyday he had to give repeat performances so that everything would be burned into his memory forever. Cruel fate indeed.
He showered Sanji's arse with kissed and stood up swiftly. Hands still holding onto Sanji's hips, in case the blond couldn't hold himself up anymore and slid bonelessly to the floor.
"Mmnnh, I wanna fuck you so damn badly, Shitty Cook, you have no idea just how ...fucking... much." The swordsman hissed through his clenched teeth.
Zoro didn't realize he spoke it out loud into cook's ear until a moan of approval left Sanji's mouth and one unbelievably fuckable bottom was showed against the constricted and pulsing erection in his pants. He hissed at the overwhelming sensation. The swordsman hasn't touched himself since he ambushed Sanji in the Merry's galley after everyone went to sleep and it was as hard for him as it was for the blond.
"What the fuck ya waiting for then, you dipshit?" Sanji snarled, twisting his face to shot Zoro a murderous glare.
The blond was thisclose to reaching completion and the stinking piece of algae ripped him off of the edge he wanted so fucking badly to jump off. If nothing more stimulating were to happen in next few seconds the only thing left of Zoro would be a mutilated green sea-weed. Luffy would have to accept the unfortunate fact he'd have to find another lazy swordsman after Sanji was done with getting rid of the old one.
Zoro with his acute instincts sensed he threaded on dangerous waters. In less than three seconds all of the swordsman's clothes were making an arc through the air. On the forth second Sanji's breath was pushed out of his lungs as he was breached by a slicked with lube, hot and hard erection.
Fucking finally!
The blond groaned internally and pushed back on the intruding flesh, welcoming the slight burn and the feeling of being utterly owned. Because that was what made Sanji so bloody addicted to Zoro and his cock. He loved his lover's possessiveness and greediness. Everyday the moment he woke up the blond craved those moments when he'd have Zoro's calloused hands pawning all over his body, squeezing his hips harshly and enjoying every moment of purposeful and hard thrusts Zoro was capable of doing. Every nerve wracking moment aboard the ship was worth it at the end of the day when he could let himself go; knowing Zoro would take care of him. It was freeing that the usually composed and collected cook could hand over the reigns to the swordsman and just… hung on while the ride lasted.
When Sanji could finally breathe, he pushed back onto Zoro's rigid erection, wordlessly asking to stop fucking stalling and fuck him rough and hard, as usual.
Zoro grunted approvingly, that yes he got the fucking message and proceeded to screw living daylights out of Sanji. Just like the blond liked it. As if Zoro was not a human but a sex machine created with the sole purpose of giving pleasure to the feisty minx that was Blackleg when he let go of pretences and trying to please the ladies and simply was true to himself.
"Ughnn! Fucking mossheads and their—mmmghh... goddamn long foreplay! Ah! Gol—fucking—D. Roger... don't you fucking dare stopping now Zoro!" Sanji cussed while being fucked and howled at the end when Zoro's thrust became more precise and mercilessly abused the blond's prostate.
"Shit—yess fucking Sir. Keep moaning like that for me and I'll do anything you fucking want, Ero-Cook." Zoro himself was highly affected and knew he wouldn't last as long as he'd love to. The long foreplay and also the beautiful creature in his arms that was receiving him so openly and unconditionally was Zoro's slow but sure undoing.
But the swordsman also knew what tricks he had to restore to turn the chef into putty in his hands. He ran his nails over the expanse of Sanji's back, bunching up the baby blue shirt the blond was wearing in favour of caressing the delicious flesh underneath it. Sanji arched his back, groaning. In turn it made Zoro hiss approvingly at the change of angle of his thrusts. He fisted his left hand in the blond strands, keeping Sanji in the ideal position for a deep fucking and settled for making long, searching strokes. His right hand settled on Sanji's hip for a few thrusts, filling the cook again and again, but soon enough Zoro decided to up the ante. Alongside the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, there was also a different kind. It was Zoro's hand that spanked Sanji's delectable bottom, leaving a red imprint in its wake.
"Mmnnah—fuckinghell!" Sanji whined, voice cracking at the end.
He wasn't expecting it so soon, but it looked like Zoro was impatient as well and wanted to speed it all up. So Sanji raised his butt higher in response, as much as Zoro's grip in his hair allowed him to, and encouraged wordlessly for Zoro to continue. The swordsman's sadistic grin only grew in size and he didn't disappoint. Loving the feel of the blond's ass tightening around his prick with each slap. It was making in turn the swordsman's dick throb in appreciation.
Each rough smack only fueled Sanji's desire. Sending spasms throughout his body and making Sanji's length drip uncontrollably. Pushing him closer and closer to the edge. The blond pressed back and rocked to meet each and every of Zoro's powerful trusts. And what a sight he must have been. Taken mercilessly from behind, with ass thoroughly spanked and red from the abuse, and with spine bended far into the back. For any normal person it would be highly uncomfortable position to be placed in or impossible to execute in the first place, but with Sanji's near non-human flexibility it was barely a strain to him.
The blond had a hard time trying to catch his breath, cheeks flushed, lower half of his body bare for the world to see and with torso half-hidden by the baby blue shirt that was slipping off of his shoulders, opened in the front and practically not covering anything for Zoro to see. The green headed bastard left it probably with the single purpose to make it all the more embarrassing for Sanji, the blond deducted. Not to mention for some ungodly reason Zoro really loved to cum all over Sanji's shirts. The blond didn't know whether it was a kink, or maybe it was because Zoro has taken to the heart Sanji's threats about pulling out of him before the swordsman peaked when he wasn't wearing a condom. There was a time when Zoro didn't listen to him and was showed on his own ass exactly why Sanji invoked this rule. It was just an unfortunate turn of events that marines attacked their ship at the time. Sanji's mocking laughter at Zoro's predicament and his own disgust whenever he executed a successful attack with his swords and next he felt a slimy feeling of sperm sliding down his tights, enforced the rule about not cumming inside. With the exception when they are using a condom or are in the bathroom, that is. Sometimes Zoro hated being in a relationship and compromising. But there were far more better perks to it, like an active sex life, and it was worth sucking it up and behaving.
"Unnnh—mygod, Zoro! I'm—I'm close! So fucking close!"
He ran his tongue over his shark-like teeth at the cook's admission. "Godfuckingdammit Sanji—you look good enough to eat—" The swordsman growled into the blond's ear and bit harshly on the blond's earlobe. Sanji shivered violently all over then melted in his hands like butter.
Zoro let go of Sanji's hair in favour of pushing down on Sanji's shoulders. He began a rough pace, slamming into his lover hard enough to make him nearly fell into the soapy water where he was supposed to finish washing the dishes before going to bed. It looked like the domineering swordsman had ways to change Sanji's mind whenever he put his mind into it. Damn the convincing bastard.
Sanji could sense Zoro was dangerously close to coming. His fingers dug into Sanji's hips hard enough to bruise. Blunt nails cutting into the sun-kissed flesh of his lover, leaving thin crimson trails of blood to flow down his sides and drip over the peachy skin. The stinging pain from these minor wounds only brought the cook closer to reaching nirvana. He could feel the way his nipples stood erect as well as the painful tension in his balls. Feeling the warm puffs of air on his neck, he realized Zoro was panting a lot harder now as well. His pace was becoming faster and more erratic with each next nearly violent thrust. He pounded into Sanji with wild abandon, clearly lost in his forthcoming orgasmic bliss. The cook groaned as his partner hit his prostate, and this was all it took to send him over the edge. He came, screaming his ecstasy into the air, semen squirting out to stain the dishwater and tiles above it. In the throes of passion, he bucked back against Zoro, and this was enough to send him over the edge as well. Zoro quickly pulled out of Sanji. It took him three harsh strokes to orgasm. The swordsman's hot come marked the peachy skin of his lover on his lower back and all over the baby blue shirt.
He couldn't help but smirk at his work of art. It was worth it every time the cook bitched at him for doing it. Definitely worth it, the swordsman thought while licking his lips and tasting the salt of his perspiration, at the same time trying to catch his breath and calm the wildly beating organ inside of his chest.
"Son of a gun! I need to do laundry once again, because of you, shitty third-rate swordsman... Tch, you really fucking love it when I wear my blue shirts, don't you, mosshead?" Sanji inquired half-annoyed, half-curious, after he composed himself. He sighed satisfied and stretched his naked body like a cat after a pleasant nap.
Zoro only grunted affirmatively, not rising to the bait, his eyes instantly gluing themselves to the mouth-watering sight before him. Sanji Blackleg was officially a real first grade tease. And the times he behaved unconsciously like a filthily sensual but dangerous incubus were even worse than those when he flexed his perfect body on purpose to arouse or to piss Zoro off. Depending on the place and if they had time to indulge in their activities, that is.
Looking at Sanji whipping himself down with the wet cloth and next proceeding to light up a cigarette, still obliviously naked and comfortable in his skin—it made the swordsman think about other dirty ways he'd love to see the cook moving in. Preferably with some music in the background and a pole in the middle of the room on the dry land, but he wasn't a picky person by nature. He'd live without the pole. He smirked self-satisfied and slapped his gorgeous lover's perfect ass on his way to grab the wet cloth and wipe himself down as well. It made him feel awfully smug that no one but Zoro will get to know what it feels like to have his cock massaged and milked thoroughly by this beautiful creature's greedy hole. And taking into the account Sanji's nearly insatiable libido the blond also wouldn't search for a better lover. Because just like Zoro's taste buds became corrupted by Sanji's godly cooking, after reaching heaven thanks to Zoro's amazing bedroom skills, the blond would never stop craving the predatory and battle hungry swordsman, too.
It was as if they were far more dependant or addicted in a way to each other than Sanji to a nicotine.
Although their relationship had its drawbacks, making Zoro feel like a felis domesticus—a domestic cat—but, overall, it really wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. He had finally quieted cook's snarky mouth with his hard cock, and put the blond's stamina to the test with routine fucking.
The blue shirt was just an excuse, really. But he wouldn't fuel the chef's ego with confessing things unwisely. For now he'd let him believe it was the wrapping he was unhealthily obsessed with rather than the high class contents.
Just because Zoro was a type that did love to play with his prey before sinking sharp teeth in the warm flesh, stating the absolute claim.
...
Ego!stroking does wonders for author's creativity and drive to write more, y'know~ So please tell me if you enjoyed, m'kay?;)