Zoro Can Be A Lil Nasty - Tumblr Posts

don't wear your new perfume around zoro, he’ll fuck you till you sweat it all off

he can’t stand that fake shit, it makes his nose itch and puts him in a bad mood as soon as he catches a whiff of it. it sets his teeth on edge when you walk by and instead of smelling like sun and sea and home, you’re covered in something cloyingly sweet.

but he’ll never say a word to you about it, not when it makes you smile like that whenever you splurge on a new bottle.

he learns to deal with it in other ways.

which is how you end up folded in half, zoro gripping the back of your thighs to keep you spread open and pinned while he fucks into you slow and deep. you’re gleaming in the moonlight that pours in through the window. zoro tracks a bead of sweat trail down your neck and its hardly settled in the column of your throat before he’s bending low to lap it up.

he feels your laugh more than he hears it, “gross.”

“what, you want my mouth somewhere else?” he lets you break free of his hold on your legs only for you to wrap them around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back.

“if you stop, i’ll cry.”

“baby,” zoro reaches up to cradle your head in his hands, your cheeks warm against his palms, and waits until your gaze locks on his, “you’re gonna cry anyway.”

you always do when he loves you right like this, chest to chest, sharing breaths, grinding his hips in circles and giving your swollen clit the attention it deserves. when the tears come, like he knew they would, zoro laps them up, too. he’s earned them, hasn’t he? why shouldn’t he get to indulge?

the heat between you only grows as his pace picks up, chasing your pleasure and his with all the eager hunger of a beast smelling blood in the air. he knows you’re close when your arms come around to pull him in even closer, one hand between his shoulder blades, the other on his ass.

zoro cums with salt on his tongue and your nails dragging down his back, fucking you through his orgasm and past the sweet pain of overstimulation because he’d slit his belly before he left you wanting for a single fucking thing.

and when you collapse back against the sheets, sweat-slick and panting from your high, he can’t help the feral slash of a grin that cuts across his face. you finally smell right again, like yourself.

sun and sea and home.