Archive of Our Own ^beta

Her delicate lingerie fits oddly underneath her clothes. The garter sits an inch below her waistband, and her nylons rub against the insides of her boots. She can feel her shirt through the thin material of her brassiere.

It’s alright. It’ll be coming off soon.

Sanji takes a deep breath to calm her nerves and adjusts her hair over her shoulders. The lights are already dimmed. The bed is made. The room is clean. There’s only one thing missing, and even that shouldn’t be much longer.

Zoro’s been instructed to come to the sun room as soon as her watch is over.

She sits on the bed. She chews her thumbnail. She catches herself, and rests her hand on her leg. She taps her fingers on her knee. She reaches for the pack of cigarettes she keeps in the nightstand. The cigarette goes between her lips, she lights it with the lighter in her breast pocket, and she exhales a nervous breath. She scratches her eyebrow.

It’s like this every time. Sanji doesn’t do well with anticipation. Her skin crawls and her mind races, and yet, every time–

The door cracks open, and Zoro’s head peaks in. Her single eye looks Sanji up and down.

“Why’re you wearing clothes?”

All of the tension bleeds out of Sanji’s shoulders. Her mouth tilts in a lopsided grin.

“Was hoping you’d help me with that,” she says. She laughs as Zoro makes a delighted noise and slips into the room, locking the door behind her in one deft move.

She’s made to lean back on one hand as Zoro crowds her space. She holds her cigarette to the side so as to not burn her. She welcomes the kisses as they’re given, as the energetic pecks turn to deep, lustful things with tongues and slick lips. Zoro’s lips start to wander down her throat, and Sanji hums.

Her hands slide under Sanji’s shirt. Sanji stills her hands before they travel far enough to discover anything too exciting.

“Woah there, tiger,” she says gently. Zoro groans and noses her jaw. “I didn’t call you down here for a quickie.”

“So what did you call me down for?” Zoro asks, and continues her ministrations at Sanji’s throat. She worries the skin above Sanji’s pulse with her teeth. Sanji only barely stops herself from sinking into the touch.

“Something special.”

At this, Zoro pulls back just enough to meet Sanji’s eyes. Her eyebrows pull together. Sanji reaches up to grasp Zoro’s jaw.

“It’s been two years since we’ve played,” she says. Zoro’s eye widens.

“You mean–”

“If you want.” She leans forwards and kisses the tip of Zoro’s nose. Her voice is a whisper when she speaks again. “I’m in charge.” Zoro’s grin is sharp.

“Rules?” 

Sanji shrugs.

“The usual: I’m mistress until the scene’s over, you do what I say when I say it, and I’m not listening to ‘no’, or ‘stop’, so use the safeword if you mean it.” She smiles at the way Zoro’s hands rub her hips. “And you don’t come without my permission.”

Zoro scoffs.

“It’s been a while, but it hasn’t been that long,” she says. “That’s not the threat you think it is.”

“Then put your money where your mouth is and take your clothes off,” Sanji tells her. Zoro pulls away completely. She stands in the center of the room and unties her belt, placing it in Sanji’s open hand. Her coat comes off next, and then she’s kicking off her boots and stepping out of her pants. When all that remains is her sports bra and undershorts, she crosses her arms. Zoro raises her eyebrows, her well? left unsaid.

Sanji brings her hand to her own chest.

“I’m sorry, was I not clear enough? I told you to take off your clothes. You’re still dressed.”

Zoro slips out of her shorts. She tosses her bra at Sanji’s chest. It falls onto her lap.

Sanji allows it. No less a part of the scene than Sanji’s rules or the rope under the bed, Zoro doesn’t submit until Sanji’s earned it. The tide breaks shells and wears coral into sand. Zoro, too, must be broken.

It’s part of the fun.

Her eyes pass over Zoro’s naked form. They linger on the swells of her asymmetrical breasts. They slide down the veins crawling over her forearms and the backs of her hands. She watches one of those hands rest on her hip, and Sanji’s eye is drawn to the tantalizing patch of green at her hips’ epicenter.

Sanji puts out her cigarette, and curls her finger in a come hither . 

“Now me,” she says.

This is a command Zoro is happy to obey.

She crosses the distance between them in two big steps, hands already outstretched to unbutton her blouse. Zoro pulls her blouse free from the confines of her slacks to undo the last of her buttons. She pushes the shirt over Sanji’s shoulders and down her arms.

With a steady exhale, Zoro takes in the sight before her. She smooths her hands up Sanji’s sides and underneath the black straps that criss-cross over Sanji’s ribs. She follows the line of the underwire with her fingers. Both of her breasts are given an appreciative squeeze before Zoro cups them through the burgundy mesh. She rubs her thumb over the seam that covers Sanji’s nipple. With her eye focused on Sanji’s breast, she licks her lips.

“My dear,” Sanji says, with goosebumps raising on her arms and the amount of space in her slacks steadily decreasing, “you aren’t done.” She raises her leg. The tip of her boot trails up Zoro’s thigh and stomach until her sole presses flat to Zoro’s chest.

Zoro curls one hand underneath Sanji’s ankle and pulls apart the laces of her boot with the other. Her eye barely wavers from Sanji’s, but when it does, it watches her chest. Sanji ensures every breath is slow and calm.

One boot comes off. The next follows.

Zoro slots herself between Sanji’s legs as she moves on to undo the button of her slacks. She presses in close. Her breath ghosts over Sanji’s lips.

Sanji takes Zoro’s hand in hers and pulls down her zipper.

Zoro’s nose twitches in agitation. She takes Sanji’s waistband in both hands, and Sanji raises her hips off the bed so that Zoro can pull her pants off completely.

Now the entirety of what Sanji dressed herself in is revealed, and she leans back on her hands as Zoro admires it.

The set was bought in Sabaody upon their return. It was worth the money, if the heavy look in Zoro’s eye means anything.

Zoro rubs her hands over the silky black nylons. She trails her fingers over the buckles that connect her stockings to the garter, which hugs tight around her waist. Zoro grips her hips tight enough to leave white outlines of her hands. She slides her right hand down to Sanji’s panties, made of the same burgundy mesh as her bra, and presses her palm against her hardening cock.

Sanji takes a deep breath.

She leans forward. She nudges her nose against Zoro’s. Zoro turns her head, lips parted, but Sanji angles herself just enough to be out of reach.

“Do you like to touch me?” She asks.

Zoro hums, and presses down again with her hand.

Sanji takes Zoro’s jaw in hers. Her nails bite into Zoro’s skin. When she speaks, it’s slow and stern.

“When I ask you a question, I expect a real answer. Zoro, do you like to touch me ?”

“Yes,” Zoro answers, with a sarcastic lilt.

Sanji smiles.

“Good.” She presses a chaste kiss to Zoro’s lips, a small reward. Then she shoves Zoro’s head back by her jaw. It forces her to take a step backwards. Sanji follows, rising from the bed. “I hope you’ve had your fill.”

Zoro cocks her head to the side, mouth open to question her, but her question is answered before she gets to ask it. Sanji retrieves the bundle of rope from one of the drawers underneath the bed.

The implications dawn on Zoro all at once. Her face processes each emotion as Sanji uncoils the rope. She watches Sanji fold the rope in half.

“You’re going to tie me up?”

“You think I’d give you free range to do whatever you want?”

Zoro lifts an impassive eyebrow.

“Hands down,” Sanji orders. Zoro scoffs and crosses her arms. “Be cooperative, love, I’d hate to punish you this early.”

Squinting, she lowers her hands to her sides. She receives another kiss, this time on her cheek.

Zoro doesn’t enjoy being tied up the same way Sanji does - not having to worry about anything or even think for herself until it’s over. Zoro doesn’t fight to relax like Sanji does, she doesn’t need to be forced to.

For Zoro, it’s all about control. Zoro is in control at all times. Of her body, of her emotions, of the world around her. If she isn’t, she forces it to be so. It’s what makes her the perfect guardian, it’s why she’s so easy to trust. If Zoro is there, you’re safe and cared for. It might as well be a rule of the universe.

But every once in a while, Zoro needs to be taken care of too. She needs to relent. She needs to receive.

She needs to be helpless.

How Sanji does this, though, is her choice. And as a chef, she wants all of her meals to be plated with finesse.

She wraps the rope around Zoro’s ribs, admiring how it makes her breaths shallow. She not so accidentally brushes her hardened nipples as she frames her breasts with her handiwork. She bites a deep bruise on her hip where she knows the rope will dig in and make it ache. By the time the rope passes between Zoro’s legs, she’s already wet enough that her thighs are slick. Sanji bites her lip.

She’ll have her taste in due time. Patience - all good things come with patience.

When Sanji is finished, Zoro’s arms are bound behind her body with a ladder of black knots. The muscles of her back are bunched, her chest is urged forward. Her face is nonchalant and her eye bores into Sanji’s with impudence. Still, when Sanji hooks her finger into a segment of rope at her hip that connects to the binds between her legs and tugs, Zoro sighs through her nose and shifts her weight.

“Not too tight anywhere?” Sanji asks, and receives a shake of Zoro’s head.

“No.”

“Not too loose, either?”

Another quiet no. Sanji slides her hand up and across her chest, stopping where the rope crosses over her sternum. Her fingers curl over the ridge of it. She tugs downward.

“Good. Then get on your knees.”

Zoro doesn’t move.

“ Down ,” she orders, and pulls with a sharp force.

When Zoro does obey, she does so just slow enough to be taunting. Not eager, not at Sanji’s command. It’s at her pace. She sits back on her heels. Without ever taking her eye off of Sanji’s, she leans forward and licks up Sanji’s shaft through her panties. 

Sanji jerks in surprise and shoves Zoro back by her forehead. Her hair’s grown out over these two years, and Sanji takes a fistful of it to keep her head where she wants it.

“I didn’t say– ”

“But it’s what you want, isn’t it?” Zoro asks, low and smug, daring Sanji to object. “I’m just trying to please you, Cook.”

“Mistress,” Sanji corrects. Zoro goes on staring at her. “You don’t get to choose when you please me.”

“And when do you choose, Mistress? ” Zoro asks, voice curling around her title.

Sanji hmph s. 

“Since you’re so eager,” she says, and doesn’t miss the downward twitch of Zoro’s mouth and the way her eye narrows, “go ahead.”

She releases Zoro’s hair.

Now the ball is in Zoro’s court. Her lips twist into something like a pout.

“You gonna take these off?” Zoro asks, glancing at her panties, trying to cling on to a little power. Sanji sits on the edge of the bed and spreads her legs.

“If you want them off so badly, then do it yourself,” Sanji tells her. Zoro’s nostrils flare. She walks forward on her knees until her shoulders touch Sanji’s thighs. She ducks her head. Her breath is humid through the fabric of Sanji’s underwear.

When she presses her tongue to Sanji’s length a second time, Sanji’s toes curl. It’s messy how Zoro does it, open mouthed and uncaring of the spit that soaks into Sanji’s panties. She licks up the hem, right where her hip meets her thigh. Her own saliva smears over her cheek. Then she turns her head and licks from Sanji’s tip to her base and back down again with a firm, hot pressure. 

She fits her mouth over Sanji’s shaft through the fabric and sucks lightly. The obscene noise it makes is almost enough to make Sanji look away. Then she curls the tip of her tongue over Sanji’s slit, and the mesh digs in just so, and Sanji is gasping before she can stop herself.

She bites her lips closed. She can’t allow Zoro to take the upper hand with both arms tied behind her back - she’ll never hear the end of it.

Zoro pulls away just long enough to lick her lips before she’s going back for seconds. She laps up the dribble of pre-come that leaks from her head. She leaves sloppy kisses up Sanji’s shaft to her base, where she buries her nose in the hair there and takes a deep breath. As much as she wants to be disgusted by it, it makes her cock twitch. Zoro looks up at her with her eye crinkled with amusement and slips her tongue under the waistband of her panties. She pinches the edge of the garment against her bottom teeth, pulls back, and lets it snap back against Sanji’s skin. It stings.

Sanji draws her hand back and slaps her palm across Zoro’s cheek. 

It’s not hard enough to be anything more than a warning. Still, Zoro’s eye widens in shock. Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t speak.

“Did you think I wouldn’t?” She reaches down to rub her thumb over the mottled, red mark she left. She hopes it doesn’t hurt. Zoro would like it too much if it did. “I warned you: misbehave and you get punished.”

“You–”

“What?” Sanji asks, her amusement bleeding through.

“Take them off,” Zoro grits out from between her teeth. Sanji unclips her garter from her stockings. She leans back on her hands and rests her foot on Zoro’s thigh.

“I already told you,” Sanji says, just as stern, “to do it yourself.”

Zoro seems stuck between glaring at her and glaring at her underwear, uncertain which is more irritating. Sanji doesn’t waver. She flicks her hair back over her shoulder.

There’s something so sweet about the way her lips curl into a frown, in the hot blush that spreads over Zoro’s cheeks before she ducks her head. Angry at not getting her way, or maybe embarrassed at what she’s been made to do. Her teeth close around the edge of her panties and she pulls. Sanji is gracious enough to slip her legs out of them once they get past her knees. She tosses the garment aside with a flick of her foot.

“Was that so hard?” She asks, just to rub salt in her wounded pride. Zoro scowls at her, but leans forward back into her space anyways. Irritated as she is she still presses a kiss to the bare skin of Sanji’s inner thigh where her stockings end.

Sanji lets out a breath through her nose as Zoro takes her at last. The tip slides over the ridges of the roof of her mouth. Her tongue curves around her shaft, finding and pressing against a vein. She can feel her own heartbeat thumping inside that silky, wet heat. Zoro’s throat rumbles around her when she moans, and the vibrations make her thighs squeeze.

She doesn’t take Sanji all the way, letting her cock bump against the back of her throat rather than pass.

“Tease,” Sanji mutters, rocking her hips up and meeting that same resistance. Zoro responds by sucking so hard it borders on painful before she dutifully begins her task.

Zoro gives head like she does anything worth her time: with vigor. Though she never takes more than her mouth will allow, she listens intently as she bobs her head between Sanji’s legs. If Sanji so much as whines behind her hand, or jerks underneath her, Zoro repeats the action harder and faster until those whines turn to moans and Sanji is writhing.

Sanji exhales a shaky moan as Zoro draws back until just Sanji’s tip is in her mouth, sucking hard and just barely using her tongue to press the sensitive flesh up and against her front teeth. It fucking hurts in a way that makes her body cringe away but her hips thrust forward, chasing the overwhelm.

She makes it so damn hard to be in charge, sometimes.

Sanji gathers herself, gripping Zoro’s hair at the back of her head to still her. She strokes up and down her outer thigh with the side of her foot, trying to hide how fast she’s breathing.

Then, she starts to ease Zoro’s head down her length. She meets resistance again, her cock unable to push past the tight ring of her throat. Zoro looks up at her with amusement, swallowing just to make her shudder.

“Relax,” she orders, and for a moment Zoro smiles around her as if she isn’t going to allow it before her throat opens and Sanji is pushing her down until her lips touch her pelvis. Her throat flexes as she moves her tongue to accommodate the intrusion. 

The rhythm is slow and careful at first. Sanji curls her fingers in Zoro’s hair and pulls her back up halfway as she draws her hips back, and she rolls her hips forward as she slowly pushes her back down again. She has to be careful. Zoro doesn’t know what her body can take - she’s too much of a masochist. Sanji could fuck her throat bloody and Zoro wouldn’t stop her, might even come untouched from it.

That doesn’t mean Sanji can’t be rough, of course. And when she snaps her hips up and Zoro does her best to moan despite the cock in her mouth, well. Sanji’s been patient enough.

She braces herself with one hand on the mattress and her other at the back of Zoro’s head to keep her steady, and she takes her as she wants her. Every hard thrust makes her hips rise off the bed and brings Zoro’s slick lips down to her base. The back of her throat catches just slightly on the head every time she pulls out.

Sanji pulls her head down to fuck as deep as possible and holds her there. Zoro hums, eyelashes casting shadows over her flushed face as Sanji rubs soothing circles into her scalp.

“You look so pretty when you’re pleasing me,” she purrs, and brushes back a lock of hair that’s fallen over her blind eye. Zoro’s tongue sweeps over the spit covered skin of her balls. Sanji watches, and she waits.

It doesn’t take long. Zoro starts to pull back, but is stopped by Sanji’s hand. Her eye snaps wide open. She starts trying to yank her head away. Sanji forces her head harder down. Zoro’s throat clenches around her length as her body fights for air. Her arms jerk against their binds. A little bubble of saliva and pre-come escapes out of the corner of her mouth.

Zoro doesn’t know her limits. But that’s fine, because Sanji does . And she knows how to use them against her.

“Zoro,” she says, to bring Zoro’s focus back to herself. Her head pushes against Sanji’s hand one last time before it stills. Her eye regards Sanji with something adjacent to excitement and just as close to contempt. “I’m being very, very clear. You’re mine until I’m done with you.” Her shoulders are starting to relax. Her knees touch Sanji’s ankles as her legs spread open. “You don’t even get to breathe without my permission.”

Her throat stops squeezing her length and goes nice and soft, and that’s what she’s been waiting for. Sanji grinds her hips against Zoro’s mouth. Zoro widens her jaw to take it, too suffocated to do anything but.

She pulls out, dragging Zoro back by her hair, and Zoro coughs and gasps as soon as she is able. She lets out little moans and whimpers with every desperate breath. Spit covers her chin down to her chest. Tears glisten on her cheeks. Sanji wipes the snot from her nose with Zoro’s belt before she tosses it to the floor. She strokes her fingers from Zoro’s temple to her jaw.

And Zoro gazes up at Sanji, eye half lidded and hazy, and she opens her mouth. Sanji’s cock throbs.

“You want it again?” She asks. 

Zoro nods. 

“I’ll give it to you,” she says, “if you promise to be good.”

Her answer is to jut out her tongue.

God, this woman.

There is no fight to press into her throat, this time. Zoro keeps her jaw lax and her throat open as Sanji fucks her. Sanji grips her hair in both hands and delivers deep, erratic thrusts, maddened by the effortless slide and Zoro’s wet moans that fill the room. Between her legs, Zoro is starting to squirm. Her knees bump against her as she rocks her hips against nothing. Sanji’s teeth graze over her lower lip.

Sanji taps the top of her foot against her pussy. It wets her nylons at a single touch. Zoro jerks with a shocked noise. She repeats the move, almost hard enough to be a kick.

“Go on. You’ve earned it.”

Zoro lets out a desperate little grunt. Her throat constricts, and her eyebrows furrow together as she starts to rut against the hard line of Sanji’s foot.

It’s no good - Sanji should’ve known better. The sight of her, face wrecked and messy, soaking Sanji’s stocking as she chases her own pleasure, is just too much. Blood starts to drip from her nose and trickle down her upper lip. She covers her face with the back of her hand, unable to remember how to make the bleeding stop when her head is so empty. For her efforts, blood drips over her knuckles and down her wrist. Her thrusts are losing their rhythm.

She doesn’t want to come. She never wants this to end.

Sanji shoves her foot hard enough against Zoro to feel her bone. Zoro’s entire body arches into the touch. She chokes on a moan, and Sanji is done for. Her muscles pull impossibly taught, her balls tighten, and she’s pulling out again.

“Don’t swallow,” she gasps, the tip of her cock still resting on Zoro’s lower lip. It pulses hard, shocks of pleasure bolting down her legs as she jerks herself through her orgasm, and they both moan as pearly white lines of cum spurt into Zoro’s mouth. Sanji bites her lip at the sight. Zoro keeps her tongue curled to hold Sanji’s cum and display it all at once, breathing hard. Her eye barely opens between each slow and lazy blink. 

Sanji slips off the edge of the bed to kneel before her. She smooths one hand over the slippery skin of her chest. She cups her breasts in her hands, supple and asymmetrical and perfect. When she pinches a nipple between her thumb and the knuckle of her index finger, Zoro whimpers.

“Poor thing,” she mutters. “We’ve barely started, and you’re already ruined.” She hooks her thumb over Zoro’s teeth to tug her jaw even further apart, the tip of the digit dipping into her own mess. She pulls Zoro close to press a kiss to her cheek, her nose, her upper lip. She smiles at her, enamored with her inability to keep up her obstinate routine when she gets a cock in her. 

She gathers the saliva in her mouth. She spits onto Zoro’s tongue, adding to the mess, and grins when Zoro groans. Sanji touches underneath her chin with her index finger to close her mouth for her.

“You can swallow, now,” she tells her. Zoro does without a second thought, not even opening her eye. “That’s my girl.”

Sanji gives Zoro one last kiss. Then she rises to gather the last thing she needs - left hidden until Zoro would be complacent enough. She opens the same drawer as before, taking a smaller bundle of rope and digging out her prize from the very bottom. Understated but effective, much like Zoro herself, and bought in the same store as her lingerie. She holds the power button on the handle to check the batteries. The entire thing shakes in her hand as the end hums. She holds it down again to turn it off.

To her knowledge, Zoro’s never had an experience with a vibrator before.

Her chest tingles with anticipation.

“The hell is that thing?” Zoro asks, voice breathy and rasping. Sanji flushes at the sound. She got a little carried away - Zoro might not be able to speak tomorrow.

Well, too late now. She’ll make her hot tea with honey before bed.

“A treat,” she says. For whom, she doesn’t say. She brings the rope with her to the floor, but doesn’t start tying yet. Sanji sets it to the side. She rubs her hands up Zoro’s thighs. Her thumbs slide over her arousal. The rope already tied between her legs is soaked. She hums. “You’re about to feel very, very good, my love.”

Zoro picks up on the threat that it is. She leans backward. Sanji chases after her, and the flat of her tongue licks up the drool on her chest. She sucks a deep mark into the delicate skin of her scarred breast.

“You better–”

“I’ll do what I want,” Sanji informs her, nipping at a pebbled nipple. “And you’ll take what I give you.”

Zoro’s face scrunches. She looks away.

Sanji grins.

She unravels the smaller bundle of rope and gets to work attaching it to the harness around her hips. Once that’s secure, she takes the vibrator and starts tying it to Zoro’s body. She ensures the head of it is pressed firm to her clit. 

And then, her masterpiece is finished. Plated, garnished, and ready to devour.

Zoro’s hair is frizzy where Sanji took handfuls. Her eye is still glassy, her face still flushed and a mess of her tears and spit and Sanji’s pre-come. The rope tying her guides Sanji’s eyes down her wet chest, her hard waist. The vibrator sits nice and pretty at her lower abdomen, a dazzling white against her dark skin.

Perfection.

“Up on the bed, now,” she says. She steals a quick kiss to Zoro’s cheek before she urges her upwards with gentle tugs. Zoro takes her time, but Sanji doesn’t punish her. She’s been on her knees for a while now.

When Zoro makes it to her feet, she looks to the bed and back to Sanji. Her quiet question makes Sanji smile.

“C’mon, dear. On your knees.” She steps behind her and gives her a gentle push forward to get her up. Zoro stops there, kneeling on the bed with her feet hanging off the edge, and twists to look at Sanji. Sanji takes the long band of rope connecting Zoro’s wrists to her shoulders in her hand. She starts pushing her down, down, counterbalancing with the bind so she doesn’t fall.

Zoro is left with her cheek to the bedsheets and her ass in the air. Incapable of shame, she relaxes in the new position, back arching with it, showing off even more of her gorgeous cunt.

Sanji groans at the sight. She kneels beside the bed. She pets over the back of her thighs and massages her ass cheek under her palm. Teasing, trying to keep up the control. Nevermind that her eyes never once stray from the wiry green hair there, shiny from her arousal, and the tantalizing pink flesh that it conceals.

Such a precious, rare fruit, and she gets it all to herself.

Her fingers slide down over her glossy lips. When her hand turns to glide back upward, Sanji’s thumb nudges the vibrator over Zoro’s clit to make her squirm. She dips her fingertip into Zoro’s hole, so wet and eager for her touch. The little noise Zoro makes is swallowed by the pillows.

She rubs her hands over Zoro’s ass, squeezing. She spreads her open. Sanji’s mouth waters as her flower blooms.

And finally, finally she gets her taste.

The flavor melts over her tongue, that metallic tang tinged with the salt of her sweat filling a two year long craving. She laps up the trickles of her arousal, chasing after every last drop. Her tongue catches her entrance as she licks over it, the jar of honey from which these lovely scraps overflow. She needs more. She needs it all. Her index fingers tuck into the binds that sit between her legs, just outside her outer lips, to pull her against her face. Zoro sighs softly as Sanji’s tongue pushes in.

Zoro can be so tough, so hard to chew. But her breasts, her inner thighs, her cunt - where Sanji’s mouth belongs - are beautifully soft and tender. Prepared correctly, she’s a delicacy unlike any Sanji’s ever known.

She hums, surrounded by her smell, her taste, tongue sliding over quivering velvet. Zoro’s moans are muffled, but it’s too late to correct it now. To tell her to move her head or to move the damn pillows away would require putting more distance between them than she’s willing to have.

Sanji’s jaw works further open as she continues to fuck her tongue in and out, determined to eat her fill. Here, Zoro cannot hide how sweet she is inside, and Sanji’s mouth is full of her sugar. Her chin is soaking wet, sticky where it bumps into the vibrator. Her soft cock is already starting to come back to life. It throbs in a nagging rhythm, but she ignores its calls for attention.

Sanji licks a line from her pussy up to her asshole, delighting in the gasp she receives as she puts pressure on that pretty, twitching hole. Her fingers pick up where her tongue left off. Two digits push inside to the knuckle. Another gasp, this one devolving into a moan as Sanji withdraws to thrust in again, firm but not harsh. There’s plenty of time for that later. Right now, she wants to savor her meal, and she drinks in every shiver and sigh that her steady, methodical strokes pull out of her lover.

Her fingers curl down, pressing into the spongy flesh of her g-spot, and she presses her tongue just hard enough against her hole to breach the ring of muscle there. Zoro squeezes tight around her fingers, pulling her in deeper. Sanji chuckles at her for it, pressing her fingers down harder, harder than she’d ever want for herself, hard enough to make Zoro buck and whine.

Zoro huffs when she lets up, and Sanji reaches between her legs to cup one of her tits in her hand. She tugs on one of her nipples until Zoro is grinding her hips back onto her face.

“That all you got, mistress? ” Zoro asks, practically fucking herself on Sanji’s fingers. “I thought you were supposed to make it hard not to come. I’m never gonna get there at this rate.”

“Is that so?” Sanji turns her head to nip her ass cheek.

What a gorgeous girl.

She’s going to break her down until there’s nothing left.

Sanji ducks her head down, tongue slipping out and nudging back in, Zoro’s ass cheeks bracketing her face, and drags her nails down Zoro’s front until she reaches the vibrator. She blindly searches for the power button. When she finds it, she grins against her skin. She turns it on without pausing her ministrations.

Zoro shouts . She jerks forwards, feet pressing into the mattress for leverage as she tries to get away, but the vibrator is strapped to her and Sanji doesn’t let her get far anyways. Sanji grabs her by one of the ties looped around her hip and pulls her back. A panicked moan flees her as she tries to adjust. Her back bows. Her thighs shake. The hands tied behind her back flex.

Sanji shows her no mercy. She picks up fingering her in earnest, each thrust sharp and snapping. Zoro can’t seem to decide what she wants, her muscles fluttering around her, squirming away just to push herself back. She gasps when Sanji’s tongue finds her ass yet again.

“Is this more to your liking?” She asks, between the open mouthed kisses she leaves over her skin.

“ Ngh ,” is the clever reply, punctuated with a sharp gasp as Sanji’s fingers curl inside.

“I thought so.” She strokes down her thigh, then scratches her way back up. 

Sanji delivers an open handed spank to her ass cheek, hard enough for a welt to form in the shape of her fingers. Zoro’s entire body tenses when the strike lands, and then she writhes, breathing out a filthy moan. Together, with the hum of the vibrator and the obscene squelch as Sanji’s fingers work inside her - the sounds of her pleasure are like a symphony.

“You’re such a pain slut,” Sanji murmurs. She sucks a bruise onto the back of her thigh. “You don’t even need the toy, do you? This is what you really want.” She traces her middle finger around the welt, then spanks her a second time over the already irritated skin.

“Oh, fuck ,” Zoro sobs, her hands turning to tight fists. She whines high in her throat, and her pussy clenches tight around her, so much so she can barely move. Her body shudders as Sanji compensates with another brutal curl of her fingers. Her whines rise in pitch, her hips push back to get Sanji’s fingers even deeper, and–

Sanji shuts the vibrator off and removes herself entirely.

Zoro cries out in confusion. Her cunt twitches around nothing, and Sanji can’t help but to spread her lips open for a better view. Every exhale melts her further into the bed, but the line of her shoulders remains rigid.

“What the fuck?” Zoro finally asks, when she catches her breath.

“Oh come on, Marimo, as if I wasn’t going to notice,” she says, and swipes her thumb over a dribble of her slick arousal. She licks her thumb clean. “You were going to let yourself come, when I never said you could.”

Zoro grunts her frustration.

“ Bitch ,” she hisses.

A grin stretches across Sanji’s face, dark and sadistic.

“What was that?” Sanji asks. Something in her tone makes Zoro pause.

“I–”

“I’m a bitch , am I?” She presses further. Zoro pulls her knee up, ready to flee, and Sanji hooks her hand over her thigh and drags it back into place. She rises to rest her own knee between Zoro’s legs. “I think you’ve failed to see how accommodating I’ve been with you, darling.”

She thrusts three fingers into her greedy cunt at once. Zoro gasps, body tensing, face turning into the pillows as Sanji’s knuckles meet her hips hard enough to make them sting. Again and again, each stroke mean and unforgiving.

“Perhaps it’s time I treat you the way you deserve.”

Without slowing or giving her time to adjust, as a bitch is wont to do, Sanji holds down the power button on the vibrator. Then she clicks it a second time, and a third, until the little thing is on its highest setting.

Zoro makes a sound Sanji’s never even heard before, somewhere between a sob and a choked groan. She writhes underneath her, attempting to pull away. Sanji’s hard grip on the ties above her elbows makes escape impossible. And Sanji doesn’t relent, caging her in and forcing her to take the pleasure given.

“If you come right now, you’re not coming for the rest of the night,” Sanji warns, and uses her thumb to push the head of the vibrator harder against her clit. Zoro’s pussy tightens so hard around her fingers that her knuckles crush together. The muscles in Zoro’s thighs jump. Sanji delivers a harsh thrust that makes her cry out.

Zoro tries to speak, argue maybe, but she hardly gets anything out before it devolves into pathetic whines held between her lips.

“Use your words,” she orders, not letting up. She sniffs to delay the blood that tickles her nostrils.

“I c-can’t–” Zoro cuts herself off with a desperate groan. “Stop– stop, please– ”

“ Stop? What do you mean? You were so confident, Zoro, now you want me to stop ?”

Sanji laughs at the little whine she gets in response. She fucks her even harder than before just to watch how her breath stutters. Zoro shakes her head, her moan curling into a teary whine. 

“Fuck, I’m gon– gonna come you– have to– to stop– ”

“Don’t you dare. Control your body, swordsman .”

Zoro sobs. Her shoulders draw together, her face twists from the pain of keeping herself on the edge. Her hips tilt into Sanji’s thrusts as her back arches.

“Use your safeword.”

Zoro clenches her fists behind her back. Tear tracks glisten over her nose. She says nothing.

“No? So you don’t really want me to stop, do you? You just want to pretend that it’s my fault that you can’t control yourself.”

“No, I–” Her thigh shakes as she cries. Her voice is so desperate and pathetic as she sobs out, “ Sanji– ”

Blood drips from the tip of Sanji’s nose. It lands on Zoro’s ass in fat drops.

“You’re going to do what I tell you, aren’t you?” She asks, and receives a pained noise and a nod in reply. “And you’re going to stop being such a brat? ”

“Yes– please, Sanji–”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Sanji says, adding yet another finger to her next thrust, and Zoro moans miserably through her teeth. It’s tight, so tight as she digs her fingers into Zoro’s g-spot, but her cunt still takes it, still pulls her in deeper, submitting to the torment before Zoro herself does. “Try again.”

Zoro tucks her chin over the pillows. Her hair covers her eyes, but doesn’t hide her teeth scraping over her lower lip. Then she sucks in a shaking breath.

“Please, Mistress–” Sanji’s blood paints her canvas red in a steady drip, drip, drip, rolling down to Zoro’s asshole, trickling in long lines down her thighs. “ Please let me come.”

To know that this trembling, desperate thing is Pirate-Hunter Zoro - a demon able to cleave a ship in two, built of iron and corded muscle - makes Sanji’s cock and heart ache in time. 

“Okay, baby,” Sanji says, lulled by the sight before her, “let go.”

A tight moan is wrung out of her as she hits her peak, every muscle rigid, squeezing Sanji’s fingers until it’s painful. Sanji works her through it, easing her thrusts as the euphoria seeps out of her body and takes that crushing tension with it. 

“What do you say?”

“Thank you, Mistress,” she says, panting.

She turns the vibrator off. Zoro slumps.

Zoro’s heavy breaths heave her back like she’s just run a marathon. Sweat collects in the creases of her hips, where her hands are secured, at the backs of her knees. She whimpers as aftershocks rack her body. Gently, Sanji withdraws her hand. A long string of Zoro’s arousal connects her still before it breaks.

She takes the back of Zoro’s thigh in hand, soothing over the angry lines her nails cut into her skin. She leaves glistening, orange smears of diluted blood in her wake. Painting her with their mixed fluids. Marking her with the evidence of what she’s done. With what Zoro has allowed her to do.

Entranced, Sanji draws her thumb through the mess. She drags the digit up to her ass cheek, where most of her own blood landed, and wets the pad of her thumb with it.

On the red flush of her own hand print, Sanji writes the letter S.

Hers.

All hers.

“Oh, angel ,” she whispers.

Then she turns the toy on again.

Zoro grunts, but doesn’t attempt to squirm away this time. She takes what she’s given, like a good girl, Sanji’s good girl. Sanji bites her lip to hold in every stupid thing that could ruin this.

i love you, i love you, i love you.

i waited,

i love you,

i waited.

She touches herself in slow strokes as she watches Zoro unravel yet again, barely together to start with. Zoro’s fingers twitch as the pleasure builds, and Sanji clicks the button on the toy to bring up the intensity. She squeezes Zoro’s thigh and digs her nails in. Zoro keens. Her perfect, ruined hole spasms around nothing as a second orgasm hits her.

She doesn’t turn the toy off, this time, and Zoro huffs a high pitched breath as it continues to stimulate her past her orgasm. Her face pinches. Sanji presses the toy ever closer to her aching clit.

“N– Ngh – no– I already–” She’s starting to writhe. Sanji’s breath is light in her chest. “M-Mmiss– stop, fuck– I came –”

“And when did I tell you to stop?” 

Zoro’s answer is a defeated whine.

Her third orgasm comes with the assistance of Sanji’s fingers massaging her g-spot in slow, hard circles. And though Zoro may like things in threes, Sanji has no such hang-up. So, patient as her worn out body takes longer to reach its peak, Sanji guides her to a fourth.

She’s beautiful as she shivers through it, throat clenched around a groan as it hits and thighs twitching as it ebbs. She gasps for breath. A long, drawn out noise is pulled through her teeth.

Sanji’s cock is starting to drip. The arousal and the blood loss are making her dizzy. She slides her hand up from Zoro’s sticky hips to her sweaty side, giving the hard flesh a little squeeze as she continues on her way up.

“Zoro,” she says sweetly, and leans over her body to brush her hair out of her face. She strokes her flushed cheek with her thumb. “Look at me.” The backs of her fingers touch feather light down Zoro’s jaw as her eye opens and hones in on Sanji. Glassed over, with not so much as a glimmer of defiance. “That’s it, darling,” she says, “that’s it.”

Sanji takes herself in hand. She’s wet enough on her own already, but still she rubs her tip over Zoro’s slick folds anyway, delighting in the way Zoro squirms. She stills her hips with a hand on her lower back.

“Be a good girl for me.”

Zoro’s groan as she’s fully penetrated comes from deep within her chest. Her eye rolls back behind its fluttering lid, and her lips twitch upwards at their corners. Her body relaxes into her taking, just as it should.

She’s dangerously warm inside, and Sanji is made to bow over and rest her brow on Zoro’s shoulder as her walls tighten. She flicks her hair over one shoulder to keep it out of her face. Sanji meets her cervix before her hips, but that doesn’t stop her. She grips the rope at Zoro’s sides and pulls her closer until she’s fully seated inside that warmth, knowing it hurts, knowing it’s what makes Zoro’s groan rise into a cracked moan.

She rocks in place, unwilling to lose that perfect heat for long enough to commit to a full thrust. Her balls touch the vibrator and she almost jumps at the jolt of sensation it gives her - she gives Zoro’s shoulder a kiss in apology for how cruel she’s been with it.

Not that she plans to be any less cruel, because that’s why she’s here, it’s what Sanji wants. She wants to make Zoro feel good. She wants to make her feel so good she can’t take it, to break her and watch pleasure seep through the cracks.

So she straightens, and despite Zoro’s tight pussy squeezing her cock as if to keep it in place, she drags out. Then she forces herself back in with a sharp thrust.

Her rhythm is harsh, bordering on the brutal. Zoro’s tacky arousal and Sanji's drying blood sticks their skin together where it touches. Moans tumble from Zoro’s lips with every thrust; whiny, punched out little noises. Sanji chases after them with a truly smitten kind of zeal, desperate to make those noises louder, for Zoro’s tender throat to give out.

“You’re so beautiful,” she says, grinning as Zoro preens at her praise. Zoro’s such an arrogant shit, eating up the compliments she knows she deserves. It only urges Sanji to continue, to watch her blissed out expression curl around the edges with self satisfaction. “You take it so well, baby girl. Like you were made for it. All mine, all for me.”

It’s so much, so tight and slick and hot, and already Sanji is biting her own cheek to keep herself from orgasm. It can be so unfair, sometimes, that the better it is the less time she gets to savor it. Zoro’s body is a meal that leaves her full but never satiated.

Sanji draws her closer with both hands digging into the meat of her hips. That S bounces when Zoro’s ass meets Sanji’s front. Hers, all hers. It runs through her mind on repeat, so loud that it drowns out every other thought.

Mine.

Mine.

“ Mine. ”

“ Yours ,” Zoro agrees in a gasp.

She lets Zoro bear her weight as she leans forward and kisses between her shoulder blades, kisses the back of her neck. Zoro writhes underneath her, every breath a ragged moan.

“I’m coming inside,” she tells her. Zoro nods into the pillows, so eager it’s almost adorable.

“ Yes ,” she moans, “yes – you can.”

Sanji nips her earlobe. She gives a rough snap of her hips.

“I wasn’t asking ,” she says, her words quiet enough that they’d be inaudible if she weren’t saying them directly into Zoro’s ear. 

At that, Zoro lets out a light, breathy moan, and her entire body goes rigid as her face slackens. She tightens around Sanji’s length so terribly that the pressure is unbearable. Sanji’s head hangs as her thrusts fall apart and she resorts to burying herself as deep as she can get, grinding for the friction of it.

Despite her bound wrists, Zoro’s fingers stretch to pet across Sanji’s stomach.

The gesture pushes Sanji over the edge.

Her cock throbs as she comes, and Sanji has to bite down on Zoro’s shoulder to keep herself from babbling a stream of enamored, incoherent nonsense. She grips Zoro’s hips hard enough to bruise. Baby, my baby . Iron stains her tongue.

She fucks her cum deeper into Zoro for long as her cock is hard enough to do so. Even as she winces from the overwhelm, her desire makes her unable to stop, drinking in the pretty sounds it draws out. It’s only when she’s too soft to continue that she allows herself to slip out. She turns off the vibrator as an afterthought.

Though her body shakes from the effort of keeping herself upright, Zoro doesn’t move. She remains kneeling, ass in the air, waiting for Sanji.

“It’s alright, my love. You can relax. We’re done.”

She melts into the mattress with a weary sigh, face down and legs curled underneath her. A clear drip of her arousal that’s hanging from the vibrator soaks into the sheets. Sanji soothes her hand over Zoro’s hip.

“You did so well, dear. I’m proud of you.”

Zoro sniffles.

Sanji bows to kiss her fingertips, and gets to work freeing Zoro from her binds. The fatigue is catching up with her. Her fingers are uncoordinated, but she takes it one knot at a time, and eventually Zoro’s arms are free. They drop limply at Zoro’s sides.

“So dramatic,” Sanji teases, already starting to undo what’s around her chest.

Zoro answers with something akin to, ugh, puck opfh . It’s hard to know what that means. It could be anything. She draws her arms up and tucks them under her head.

Sanji works her thumbs in circles across Zoro’s tight shoulders. She drags her knuckles down and back up the muscles bracketing her spine. She kisses the back of her neck, and apologetically over the bite mark she left behind. When it’s time, she eases Zoro onto her back so that she can untie the rope from her hips. Zoro allows herself to be manipulated and positioned however Sanji wants her, every bit of energy sapped out of her body. She scrubs her eye with the heel of her palm to erase the evidence of her tears.

Sanji tosses the last of the rope to the floor when she’s done, and the vibrator onto one of the pillows at the top of the bed. She categorizes her needs by level of necessity in her mind. The floor is covered in their discarded clothes, they need to be picked up. The sheets are dirty, they’ll have to be changed. The rope will have to be wound up and put away, the vibrator will have to be cleaned. Zoro, too, is a concern. Covered in a laundry list of fluids both inside and out, scratched up, bruised, and completely out of it; she needs a bath, more than a little antiseptic, and time to come down.

There’s one big, looming issue, though.

Before Sanji can actually do any of it, she has to get up. She has to put distance between herself and her warm, pliant, darling girl - and nothing seems quite as important as staying right where she is.

She rests her cheek on Zoro’s knee as she stalls for time. She rubs gentle patterns over her thighs with the backs of her fingers, turning her head into the damaged flesh. Zoro smells like salt and copper.

Sanji runs her tongue over a gummy and half dried drip of blood. She lifts Zoro’s leg to press more kisses to her skin, to the welts that are warm against her lips. Her hands drift lower. She traces her fingers over a red line at her hip where the rope chafed. Zoro sighs underneath her, and the leg that Sanji isn’t holding falls open.

“Baby,” she coos. She sucks a deep mark into the inside of her thigh, and gives the bruise a light kiss when she’s satisfied. She blows cool air over it to make Zoro shiver. “You were so good for me.”

Sanji’s hand drifts to her center, rubbing up to her belly button and teasing back down through her thatch of wet hair. She grins against the knee that jerks against her face.

Zoro’s arm is thrown over her eyes, concealing her expression, but she shifts her hips under Sanji’s ministrations and curls her fingers into the sheets. She doesn’t tell Sanji to stop when her thumb pets over her clit. She bites her lip instead, her white teeth glinting.

Sanji is gentle as she hooks her thumb over the lips of Zoro’s pussy. The flesh there is soft and puffy from abuse. Her clit gives half hearted twitch after twitch, still recovering from the vibrator. A dribble of Sanji’s cum is starting to leak out of her hole. She watches the white line crawl down her perineum. It drips over a dried smear of blood.

This isn’t meant to be sexy.

A groan is punched out of her chest at the sight.

“Gorgeous,” she sighs. “You’re just gorgeous.”

Zoro squeezes her arm tighter over her face. Sanji drags her lips down Zoro’s thigh. She pulls her up by the hips until Zoro’s back rests on her knees and her feet dangle at Sanji’s sides, legs hanging over her elbows. 

Sanji hums against her flesh. Zoro’s scent surrounds her. It’s salty and rich, perfectly at home when it’s tinged with blood. She breathes it in and her body thrums. Something deep inside of her, something she’d trampled over for her own sanity, crawls out of its hiding space and sings.

She licks up the little drip of her cum and presses it back inside. She gives her clit a light kiss before she lavs her tongue over the aching nerve.

With barely any attention, Zoro is already panting. She reaches to stroke Sanji’s cheek. She unsticks a sweaty strand of hair from her skin and tucks it behind her ear.

“Cook,” Zoro breathes. “You’ve gotta be tired by now.”

“D’you want me to stop?” Sanji asks her. The scene’s over. If Zoro says stop , she stops. 

Zoro’s knees tighten around her arms.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then I’m not tired.” One of her hands comes around to splay over Zoro’s taut belly. She still has work to do. Every night she spent trying to remember the heady smell that she delves into now, every time she fucked into her fist rather than where she belonged, is another missed chance she has to make up for. She licks open mouthed kisses over her slick cunt. “How else am I gonna get you clean?”

“Is that what you’re doing,” Zoro grumbles under her breath, and Sanji grins. She sucks Zoro’s lip into her mouth and pulls her head back until it pops free.

“Of course.”

Sanji pushes her tongue inside, whimpering as Zoro’s rich flavor mingles with her own cum on Sanji’s taste buds. She pulls Zoro closer into her face. She sucks at her sopping cunt and drinks down every last scrap. She licks her clean, licks her until she’s just as dirty as she was before. It’s a kind of delirium of its own, her taste and her musk and the muscle that twitches against her shoulder when she curls her tongue just so.

“Fuck, fuck– Cook –” Zoro’s leg shakes when Sanji starts sucking her clit. She tangles her hand in Sanji’s hair and drags her up, out from between her legs, until she’s close enough to kiss. Sanji’s hair falls from her shoulders around their heads. It blocks out everything but Zoro’s face. They become all that exists in this room, their bodies pressed together and their lips sliding over each other in slick affection.

Sanji can’t decide where she wants to touch the most. Her hands pet over Zoro’s sides. She cups her breasts and traces over her beautiful scar. She rolls one nipple between two fingers, wishing she could take the other into her mouth but unwilling to part from her mouth to do so. She handles Zoro softly, a mirror opposite to her treatment before. 

Zoro keeps one hand steady on the back of her head, and the other strokes her skin. She rubs her palm over Sanji’s throat and down her chest. She touches down Sanji’s arm, firm across her forearm and rubbing her thumb over the inside of her wrist. She wriggles her fingers into Sanji’s grip until she can interlock them with Sanji’s own.

Sanji’s heart aches . 

“You’re perfect,” Sanji whispers against her lips.

“You’re–” Zoro shakes her head, nosing at Sanji’s cheek– “You’re everything.”

It’s like floating. So rarely is Sanji ever this weightless. Every moment of her days are bogged down with worry and insecurity, but not here. Never here.

Zoro is one of very few people that have the unique ability to keep Sanji in place. An anchor, a life raft, a safe haven. An irreplaceable fixture of her home.

“It’s okay,” Zoro says, and Sanji realizes she’s been rutting against her hip. “You wanna be inside again?”

“Aren’t you sore?” Sanji asks, straining to be gentle where she grips Zoro’s thigh.

Zoro nods. She spreads her legs further apart anyways.

Sanji groans.

“You little minx,” she mutters, adjusting her hips to slide in without having to let go of Zoro’s hand.

They both grunt. Zoro’s eyebrows scrunch together.

This time, Sanji doesn’t take. Her thrusts are careful and unhurried. The slow drag of her cock against Zoro’s soft walls drives her to the point of madness, and all the while Zoro is cupping her jaw with her free hand, stroking Sanji’s cheek. She kisses Sanji over and over, lips parted just enough to let her sighs escape.

This time, it feels a lot like making love.

Sanji grits her teeth as she comes, her orgasm weak and teetering on the edge of painful. Zoro moans. Her insides flutter around her shaft as it pulses inside.

She grinds her hips in lazy circles. She’s already soft, but she isn’t ready to leave Zoro’s warmth just yet, so she keeps Zoro’s hips pulled flush to her own.

Zoro starts fiddling with the back strap of Sanji’s bra. Her lips tense in concentration. She stops kissing back, focused on her task. Sanji kisses down her jaw to her throat.

Sanji lets her struggle for another moment until she directs her hands to the front clasp. She laughs as Zoro huffs her agitation.

“Just– take it off . ‘S in the way,” Zoro snaps, and Sanji tuts at her crabbiness but can't find it in herself to blame her for it. She must be sore all over, she’s sticky, she's still spread out under Sanji  -- and now on top of all that she's being laughed at. Sanji is never as amenable as Zoro has been. 

“Okay, okay,” Sanji says. She slips her arms out of the straps. Zoro’s hands come to rest where her bra once covered. She massages a gentle pressure, thumbs rubbing over her skin. When Sanji lays back down, she kisses her jaw. Sanji does her best not to fall too far into the pleasure of it. “Happy now?”

Zoro grunts. She’s lucky that Sanji speaks cavewoman.

Sanji makes the mistake of catching herself in the bathroom mirror before they bathe. The sight makes her pause mid step.

Her hair is frizzy and unkempt. Blood coats her upper lip. It’s smeared over her cheeks, there’s a coagulated drip of it on her chin. A bloody streak crosses the bridge of her nose. It stains her chest in big drops that dried as they rolled down her breasts. Her stomach is streaky and orange, her hips are dark with it, it’s clotted into her pubic hair. If her garter weren’t black, it would be ruined. Her stockings are done for.

In the kindest terms, she looks like someone who’s spent the past two hours being murdered.

Zoro enters her line of sight. She comes up behind her and tucks her chin over Sanji’s shoulder. Her grin is smug and irritating.

“This...” she says, trailing her fingers down the filthy expanse of Sanji’s skin, following the long, rust colored lines with a feather light touch. She finally comes to rest her hand on Sanji’s stomach, just under her belly button. She kisses right under Sanji’s ear. “Is all for me.”

She scratches three sharp lines through the tacky blood on Sanji’s stomach. It’s backwards in the mirror, but there’s no mistaking it.

Z .

Sanji’s mind whites out for a half second. Zoro scrapes her teeth over her neck before she returns the distance between them. She turns on the tap in the bath, leaning one hand on the edge of the tub, Sanji’s own mark as clear as day on her ass cheek.

Zoro’s done it now.

She’s not leaving this bathroom without another round.