A/N When thinking about the sexual and romantic aspect of One Piece you come up a bit blank. There are connections everywhere, because they are constantly alone with lots of space to roam about and get to the nasty. I wanted to explore the spaces in between the adventures when the crew gets intimate. I've always thought it was given that Luffy and Nami were together and Robin and Zoro were together. I have no idea why. I didn't know much about fanfic and pairings, that's always just been my personal head canon. But now I'm going to explore my favorite moss head: Zoro. I just can't stop thinking of all the opportunities he has. He's just so eligible. Well, you'll see.
P.S. It's been a while since I've done much writing, especially fanfiction but this format is so cozy and familiar. I started so many projects here that never went anywhere and I'd like to change that. I'm hoping that my love for Zoro will translate to the work I put into his story. Enjoy.
Sex Addict Log
Day 1: Counseling
It's been a while, almost longer than I can recall, that I've travelled under the Strawhat Pirate flag. No, the time has been short. But the adventures we've had somehow makes me forget everything that came before. All I know is that being loved wasn't easy. And that's a fact that's taken years to be able to write down on paper. The only reason I can now is because all I have are the memories of the crew and I'll be damned if I let those slip away. Maybe we do find one another again, crazier things have happened. But if I'm going to be honest with myself here. I'm just not sure.
Things I know:
1. There IS no way to know where they all are.
2. As it stands even if I knew, there isn't much chance I'll get off this creepy island without Mihawk's permission
3. Luffy doesn't want us
I played with the leather arm of my chair as I pretended not to notice Mihawk looking my way. It took him only a few seconds for him to read the words in one glance. I saw the dark haired man close the moleskin journal and put it on the table. In spite of the long stare, I stayed silent, placing the burden as far from myself as possible. Mihawk cleared his throat.
He looked far away, the cherry colored chaise appearing to be oceans away from my reach. Still I anticipated his words, cutting just as deeply as any other blade he wielded.
"This is a good start." He said, surprising me. I nodded.
"You think you don't deserve praise?" he asked. A nerve was struck and I stood up defiantly. This time I kept his gaze.
"I'm not doing this, it's a waste of time."
"Don't be afraid to show your inner fears. I was being sincere. You wrote emotionally, and truthfully." I didn't move. Nothing ever made any kind of sense when he spoke. Only when he held me.
"Why do you always assume I'm teasing you?" He asked. Mihawk leaned back in his chair, further exposing his chest framed nicely in a white silk top. My jaw tightened. I leaned down slowly until I was looking into Dracule's glassy yellow eyes. They looked back without a word. And with my hands firmly planted on the arms of the chair, I found myself shoving my head into the old man's shoulder.
I didn't want anything to do with his judgmental gaze. Its glare was hot, but somehow the same man's body soothed with a cool touch. Mihawk breathed evenly as he moved his hand to my back, holding it firmly. Without his touch I was frozen. He was what made me.
Seamlessly he drew me into a kiss and I could feel my ego building from a familiar place inside. I brought my lips to his ear, smelling his strong natural scent and wanting nothing more than him to be on me.
"Do you want me here, or is there somewhere else you'd prefer, Dracule?" My tongue worked through the name deliberately, leaving a sweet aftertaste in my mouth.
Blindly, I raised myself onto the leather, with him right before me. Of course there was no verbal response, just cold lips and his bearded jaw crashing down onto my hot skin. He held me up, keeping me balanced as we began the push and pulled.
Then we fell together, into the dark cherry leather where touch was my only sense. He kissed me back fiercely. His hands lingered at my stomach and neck as he guided me. Somewhere among the desperate limbs I managed to remove my pants, at least to my mid thigh, which was more than enough for yellow eyes to set his sights on the prize.
We now lay along the length of the lounge, bodies pressed together. He held me in his grasp as his other hand worked from behind. He was thorough, and agonizingly slow as he molded my body with his hands.
The pool of hot energy emanated from his touch and my teeth clenched as I wished harder than I would admit to be filled with my master's cock. Pain was never the problem. all I cared for was the light at the end.
"Patience." Mihawk grunted. Suddenly the man withdrew his touch, shifting his attention to my throbbing member. Pressure, several pumps and finally, though maybe not my preferred method, I could come. I felt my skin drenched with sweat, and the low growls I was unable to suppress added more to the intensity growing in my stomach.
All euphoria seemed close at hand, until, with a sharp movement he halted my release. My throat felt dry and I let out an unexpected moan. The pressure rather than exploding had been let out, leaving me empty and gasping for more.
Fuck you old man.
"Fuh-keh" He reduced my vocabulary to unintelligible syllables strewn together. Then he came in quickly, painlessly and the nerves were brought to life again with excitement. I forgot to take a breath, as my mind would only register his body against me and when I did I shook all over.
With his arms wrapped around my body he thrust in again and again enacting his will upon me until I lost control of my senses. I could hear my voice vaguely contorting in raw choked groans. But I was numb, feeling the motion between us blur into a pure haze. I came silently, loving the way he felt buried inside.
When I opened my eyes I could see the trail left that streaked the dark upholstery. Mihawk shifted slightly as he moved to be on top of me. His hands went to my nipples, as he worked them constantly, releasing sparks into my ribcage. He gave three short pumps inside and then began picking up speed. My body was limp, draped onto the chair, mouth gapping wide.
All feeling was coursing together, lighting my skin and bones alike in a buzz of pleasure. Anything else was just frosting now, but that feeling of being his one and only would last forever.
When he came inside me he drew me to him, evoking more lewd sounds from my lips. He remained there massaging my prostate gently. I was getting hard again, but I hardly noticed. Every inch of me beamed with satisfaction. He drew out slowly, keeping our lips warm with joined tongues as he separated us finally. It felt like a consolation, something unnatural for him.
The illusion then shattered. The last touch of his lips evaporated as he rose. My eyes would hardly stay open but I was aware of every second he took to right himself, and leave the room.
It was still warm, my body still vibrated and I could still smell his scent in the air. Those sensations pushed against the back of my mind, slowing my thought until I fell asleep sprawled out naked and alone.
