This is my first fanfiction. It is a ZoRo smut story. Obviously, I do not own these characters or the anime/manga One-Piece. Be kind and enjoy.

Dreamers

As she stared out at the sea beyond the deck of the only true home she had known since childhood, she allowed herself to remain unguarded and drift off to sleep. Of course, she knew he was there, as he always was. His presence amused her, and she welcomed the familiarity. He intrigued her and as her dreams, wrapped around they became tangled with her thoughts of him.

The living tree on the grassy deck of the ship was a comfortable and convenient location for him to rest. Truthfully, anywhere was a comfortable place to rest as far as he was concerned. What he really appreciated about this spot was the view. He didn't care about the scenery though. He knew she was aware of his presence but she never said a word to him or the rest of the crew. He could have this innocent secret luxury and he intended to keep it. The crew had no idea that he chose his naps here just for the chance of seeing her relaxed and happy curled up on her deck chair with one of her tediously academic tomes and whatever delicacies that ridiculous shit-cook brought her. Even enduring the disgusting displays of that idiot were not enough to move him from his vigil. He sometimes allowed himself the thought of what it would be like to hold her close without their lives being in danger. Imagine the softness of her raven hair and creamy skin. To feel the suppleness of her breasts as he... NO. He must control himself. She had not given him permission for such intimacy and he would not dare dishonor her in such a way. Her life had been difficult enough, and she had been used far to long. He would not do such a thing to her even in the privacy of his own thoughts. Perhaps it would be safer if he really did sleep, as the rest of the crew believed was his true intention.

She knew it was only a dream, but it would have to do. For now, her dreams were the only place she could welcome him. They were in battle again, as they always are, following that mad straw-hatted boy she loved so much. She is wounded and beginning to lose consciousness when the swordsman is suddenly there to catch her as she falls. She looks up at him and smiles to know she is protected. He never takes his eye off of the enemy but he quietly proclaims to deliver her safely to the Sunny after taking care of fiflth that hurt her. She took in his image; chest exposed under his clothing, the scar on his chest running from shoulder to waist a reminder of his purpose in life, dark bandana covering his hair and forehead so that the frightening intensity of his eye is heightened, sword hilt gripped between his teeth, holding his other two precious katanas in each hand. He lays her on the ground as her eyes close and she hears the clash of metal. Suddenly she is aboard the Sunny, lying on the lush grass of her deck. He has reoved his bandana and his swords are propped on the tree, within easy reach but not encumbering his efforts to tend to her. She reaches up to brush her hand on his cheek as her eyes flutter open. He allows her this tender touch but pulls away as he tells her she must rest. She assures him she is fine, but he does not look convinced. A pair of perfect replicas of her arms sprout from the deck and pull him down to her, forcing him tp prop himself up above her torso, stopping only inches from her mouth. "The crew" he whispers. "It is my dream you know. They do not have to be here if I don't wish it," is her breathless reply. She lifts herself to close the teasingly close space between the two and begins to kiss him gently at first and then with a passion that surprised both of them. He is no longer resisting her and the replica arms disappear in a plume of sakura petals. His hands begin to explore her body, detailing everything from her delicate shoulder, past the soft roundness of her breast, along the curve of her waist and hip, finally resting above her thigh. Her clothes are constricting and she wishes she could remove them. The exploration of his hand has left her feeling lightheaded and eager for more. He laughs gently as he sees the expression on her face. A smile on his perfect mouth drives her mad and she slides her own hands into his clothing, marveling at his impressive form. His body is prefect, scars and all. She lifts her head to his chest and begins kissing along his scar, following it to the hamaraki he wears around his waist. Once more her replica hands appear to remove this encumbrance from her path. He remains to allow her to do her work. Before he realizes what is happening she gains the upper hand by flipping him onto his back. Straddling him across his thighs she begins kissing his beautifully molded body once more. She hears him let out a groan and feels his body relax as she moves above him. She rocks her hips along his groin causing to let out another long sigh and to raise his own hips in response. She giggles slightly as she enjoys his approval. She bends down to continue kissing him and perhaps remove those nuisance pants. Before she can make good on her plan he sits up and takes her face in his hands. The kiss is outrageously good. He forces his way into her mouth with his tongue without apology, finished with a nibble to her bottom lip that sends her over the edge. He does not have the concern for buttons on her shirt, pulling it apart on accident. Together they laugh at his impatience and she tosses the ruined shirt overboard. She allows him to blatantly star at her exposed breasts. She enjoys his gaze and and can feel his pleasure under those bothersome pants. Her thoughts are again disrupted when he leans forward to take her breast into his mouth. The wet warmth makes her moans and slowly lean hher head back, arching her back and pressing her chest closer to him. He places one hand securely on her back while the other grips her neglected breast and begins to massage it gently. His tongue continues to do its work upon her nipple and areola, sending shivers of pleasure down her spin with every flick and lap. She cannot help but begin to rock her hips again, grinding harder onto his trapped penis, which she desperately wishes to meet. With a guttural sound she cannot describe he flicks her nipple with his tongue one last time and rolls her onto her back. He removes her inhumanly tight pants and panties, leaving her completely naked. With a smirk on his face and a low growl in his throat he plunges his face between her thighs to introduce himself to her properly. His tongue moves along her lips and clit with such precision it was as if he had been made just for her. He laps at her clit in gentle long strokes while she relaxes into the stimulation. As her moaning becomes more breathless his fingers caress her lips and come teasing close. He glides on finger in, never moving his mouth from her clit. A second finger enters her with the first as he takes the whole clit into his mouth and begins to suck on it. The sensation is exquisite. He moves his fingers along her walls, in and out, while he sucks and flicks her clit. He revels every moan and gasp that escapes her. Her orgasm is so strong he cannot remove his fingers and all he can hear are her cries for more. He obliges, and helps to bring her under control by returning to lap at her clitoris in long slow strokes. Unable to keep herself from him she produces a replica hand to remove those troublesome pants of his finally, and this time he will not keep her from her task. With his body now completely exposed she reaches to grasp his balls in her hand and massages them as he pleasures her. His own moans are felt through her whole body and another replica hand begins to work on his penis as well. He has to concentrate to keep prevent his own orgasm too soon. She begs him breathlessly, "please." He rises and begins to kiss her stomach and neck while her replica hands disappear. He guides himself into her and they move together in synchronous motion. He is able to move so deeply within her she can barely catch her breath. Another orgasm rocks her body and squeezes down tightly on him. His own orgasm is released and their moans of pleasure are all that is heard on the sea.

She wakes with a smile on her flushed face. Rising she sees the swordsman still at his tree with a smile on his own face as he sleeps. She wonders if his dreams are as sweet as hers are as she walks past him on her way to the shower.