trying my best

Sanji

Picture You - NSFW (1) (2) (3) (4) Wanting - NSFW Instruction - NSFW Jealousy, Jealousy - SFW Two For One - NSFW Heat of the Moment - NSFW Hard Times - SFW Sickly Sweet - SFW Worship - NSFW A Human's Touch - NSFW Imposter Syndrome - SFW Big Iron - NSFW Hot and Cold - NSFW Drowning - NSFW

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Zoro

Picture You - NSFW (1) (2) (3) (4) Insomnia - SFW Two For One - NSFW Playing Rough - NSFW A Bridge Too Far - SFW Hard Times - SFW Make a (Swords)Man Out of You - SFW Ties That Bind - SFW (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) Hot and Cold - NSFW Drowning - NSFW

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Ace

Follow Through - NSFW Did I Say That Out Loud? - SFW Do I Deserve It? - SFW Blinders On - SFW Pain Relief - SFW Third Wheeling It - SFW Tongue Tied - SFW Companion in Grief - SFW A Soft Place to Land - SFW

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Trafalgar D. Law

Bloody Hands - NSFW A Helping Hand - SFW Fanboy - NSFW Hard Times - SFW Stress Relief - NSFW

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Donquixote Doflamingo

Possession - NSFW Coup D'état - NSFW Puppeteer - SFW

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Red Haired Shanks

Unknown / Nth - NSFW

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Monkey D Luffy

Need - NSFW That's What Friends Are For - NSFW

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Nami

The Taste of Nectar - SFW

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Charlotte Katakuri

A Sizeable Difference - NSFW

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Dracule Mihawk

Lost Little Lamb - NSFW

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Nico Robin

The specter haunting your thoughts doesn’t appear for a few days, and the soldiers are mercilessly silent. They don’t speak of the wife they’ve left at home, or how their son is doing with his sword training, or how they heard the chef is making their favorite tonight. Such thoughts must feel blasphemous to speak aloud near the almost dead. They think it’s for your sake, not to taunt you with what you don’t have, but it’s really for them. So they don’t have to think about how you won’t get to experience such beautiful little moments once the guillotine drops. So they don’t have to think about how you’ve experienced them before, as every human being has. They don’t have to think about the life you’ve led, and how they’re actively facilitating its end.

One day you finally break, watching two of the men who’ve been kindest to you shift nervously on their feet, eyes fixed straight ahead. “You can still talk, you know.”

They jump, as though somehow they forgot you were still here, alive and breathing. In their minds, you’ve already died. They share a look you can’t quite decipher, mouths set into twin grim lines. “We know,” one says.

“Do you?”

His shoulders are so tense you worry he may crack himself in half, but to his credit he manages to keep his tone calm. “We just have nothing to talk about.”

They flinch when you laugh, an edge of madness creeping into the noise. “Oh, yeah? Every single soldier in this entire place has nothing to speak about? Every single one? Do me a favor and don’t lie to me. I barely have any time left, I’d like to spend what little I have pretending things are normal. I can’t do that if you all have already buried me.”

They don’t give you the mercy of speaking again, but you almost think you see one of their shoulders shaking, his hands trembling around his blade. It makes you relax a bit, despite the fear and rage and defeat swirling in your chest. They’re mourning you. Isn’t it something of a blessing, to know someone is? Perhaps they’ve grown fond of you, or perhaps their time on the battlefield hasn’t beaten the gravity of death out of them, but either way they know that you’re here now and can’t help but fear the thought of your absence. That’s something.

Zoro only comes to visit his dear ghost after yet another week of staring at the wall, listening to nothing but the dripping of water and occasional footsteps coming down the hall. At first, you convince yourself that you’ve dreamed it, the familiar sound of his boots thumping against stone. It has to be wishful thinking. You’ve been dreaming of him enough that it’s worked its way into your waking hours, and soon you’ll feel the warmth of his arms around you and hear his soft voice whisper something you’re far too afraid to admit you want to hear.

But he’s here, flesh and blood, gesturing the soldiers away with a single jerk of his chin toward the door. They scramble off, desperate to be free of you. You think these two find you unsettling, disturbed by the way your sharp eyes have gone vacant and your normally proud posture has started to slump. A walking corpse.

Your cell creaks as he opens it, the sound bouncing off the walls and back to you again and again, an infinite loop reminding you exactly where you are and what’s coming. Zoro sits across from you, hair mussed and eyes tired. “You alright?”

You can’t help but chuckle. “What the hell do you think?”

He rubs his forehead, the weight of what he’s carrying dragging his shoulders forward. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

You sit in silence, waiting for the other to speak, but you’re both struck silent by the gravity of the situation. It’s coming any day now. You can feel the breath of the reaper against your neck, a constant chill running down your spine and a tension in your body as you await for his bony hand to wrap around you. Zoro’s warmth can’t drown out the feeling, even if you know he’d like to try.

“Tell me more about yourself,” he finally murmurs, his eyes boring into yours. There’s a heat there, a determination you’re used to seeing in an enemy commander.

You should answer. You should give him this, just a few small pieces of you to carry with him. But the more of you he carries, the more it will weigh him down and hold him back. The more it will make him suffer, make him mourn someone he never really knew. Every piece he has will just remind him of how much he didn’t know.

“No.”

“No?” He blinks, once, twice, surprise clear on his face.

“No. No more talking. No more pretending this isn’t happening.”

“Who says we’re pretending this isn’t happening?”

He’s a terrible liar. You can see it in his eyes, the pain and regret and longing. Or maybe he’s a fine liar, but you’re made to be his weakness, to slip through his defenses in the exact ways he wouldn’t want you to. “Zoro, this is for your own good.”

He scoffs. “My own good? Just another choice you’re making for me, huh? I want to know you. I want to spend time with you. No matter how little it is.”

He reaches out to you, but you flinch backwards, head hitting the wall. “No, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s going to be like to be alone. To lose someone you never really had.”

“I’m going to have to know it. There’s no way out, alright? I know that. But that doesn’t mean I can’t know you at all.”

He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care that he’s going to have far more time without you than he ever did with you. That he’s going to spend years remembering a few memories he managed to scrounge together, a few stolen moments in this damp and rotting cell. He needs to leave you to rot with it.

“You’ll never really know me. We don’t have time for it. This is kinder.”

“You seem very sure everything you’re doing is kind. That it’s all for my sake.” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to worry about what comes after. That’s my problem.

You can hardly hide the shake in your voice, but you don’t want to let him know he’s getting to you. You need to stay strong. "You're going to regret this. One day, years from now, you're going to see a beautiful sunrise and, for a moment, wonder what I thought of it. You're going to see a flower and wonder if I would have loved it. You're going to wake up and realize you never knew my favorite color, favorite food, favorite song. You're going to regret not knowing me, Zoro. It's going to haunt you for the rest of your life. And you're going to understand why I tried to spare you from this."

He's silent for a moment, jaw clenched. He breathes in the stale air deeply, before quietly asking, "Well, what is your favorite color?"

You laugh, a low, bitter sound. "That's not the point! There will always be something you don't know! Always something you'll regret not having said! Nothing we do now can change any of it."

He looks at you with a degree of pity you don't understand. "But I can know this. So what is it?"

You sigh. "Blue. My favorite color is blue."

He chuckles softly. "Some part of me hoped it would be green."

"Maybe it could have been," you say, before you can stop yourself. You can see it clearly in your mind; a soft, sunny morning where the rays of light catch his eyes so perfectly that you cannot help but fall in love a little bit more, enough so that you begin to see him everywhere there's even a hint of green. But the only life you have is this one, and it's ending shortly. "But that doesn't matter now."

"It still matters," he whispers, "to me. I'll remember."

Your frustration mounts again. He's promising to torture himself in your absence. That's not what you wanted. You didn't suffer countless silent nights and the arguments that followed just for him to end up suffering anyway. If he does, it was all worthless. You refuse to accept it was all for nothing. "What, so I can live on in your memory? My heart's still going to stop. I'm still going to be six feet under, if they even bother to bury me. Stop doing this, Commander." There it is, that distance you need. He'll remember you like this: cold, bitter, unworthy. He can freely bury you in his mind, let you rest the way you deserve. He'll find some unpaired soul to settle down with, one that could never compare to a martyr in his heart but that might just stand up to a pathetic shell of a soldier.

"Is that an order?"

You stare unblinking. He doesn’t flinch. In a battle of wills, you are unfortunately perfectly matched. And god, you are so, so tired of fighting.

“You’re the most frustrating man I’ve ever met,” you murmur, eyes falling closed in defeat. 

“I’ve heard that before.” You can hear the smile in his voice. You don’t let yourself open your eyes to see how handsome he looks when he’s smug. You don’t need to know. It’s better to never know at all than to see it once and know you’ll never experience it again. No matter what he thinks. If he wants to carry your body around with him, you can’t stop him. You’re finally realizing that. You’re both horribly stubborn, but he’s better equipped than you. Better fed, better rested, better everything. He knows he can outlast you. No matter how determined you are, you’re worn down beyond repair, even if you did have any way to build yourself back up. But you’re so very tired.

“What else do you want from me?” You ask softly, thoroughly defeated.

He reaches forward to take your hand in his. It’s rough, your calluses rubbing together, years of training and combat sanding away all of the softness from both of you. He stares at where your skin meets, intertwining your fingers and clinging to you as though the moment he lets go you’ll be taken from him forever.

That’s a lot closer to being true than you’d like.

He shifts closer, approaching with the same amount of caution one might use for a feral animal. Maybe a feral animal would be less dangerous to him. He squeezes your hand, warmth seeping in and banishing the ever-present chill that’s haunted you from the moment you were thrown into this cell. First his shoulder presses against yours, then his hip, then his thigh, until he’s pressed every inch of his side to yours. His body heat seeps through his uniform and your tattered clothes, and you can’t help the way your eyes flutter shut as you lean into him.

You shouldn’t do this. You shouldn’t give in. But god, it makes you feel more alive than you have in years. It makes you feel human again. So you push down the martyr in your head and allow yourself to relish in the feeling of another human being, of his hand gently cradling yours, of being cherished in what little time you have left.

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers, because he is the cruelest man you have ever known.

“I don’t want you to.”

“I know.”

His head leans against yours, and you can smell the salt of his sweat and the leather of his uniform and god that smell shouldn’t make you so weak. But it does. Everything about him rips away the things you know should be and leaves behind only the confusing what is. Reality makes no sense with him.

His voice shakes as he speaks. “Are you afraid?”

You laugh. “Of you? Yes.”

He scoffs. “You know what I meant.”

“I do.” Your answer was more honest and vulnerable than he could possibly understand.

“I wish it wasn’t like this.”

“Wishing won’t change anything,” you whisper. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

It’s the closest thing to real gratitude you’ve ever given him, and he looks at you like you’ve blessed him with his truest and greatest wish. He shifts, pulling away so he can face you, and you’re mortified by the soft whimper that leaves your mouth as his warmth gets further away. “Would you have wanted this, if things were different?”

He clasps your hands together again, fingers intertwining. His eyes are shining with emotion, pleading with you for something, anything, and unfortunately Zoro makes you more honest than you’ve ever been in your life.

“I want it now.”

He lets out a single shaking breath, and you expect him to pull away, but suddenly the world shifts.

It’s frantic, the way he pulls you toward him. Your teeth clack together, his callused fingers pressing hard enough into your arms to bruise. It doesn’t seem quite right to call it a kiss; it is far too consuming, as though he wants to steal all of you, down to the breath in your lungs, and refuse to let you go. And he doesn’t, not until you’re banging against his chest, begging for release, and gasping as he backs away from you. Your cheeks are wet from the tears that forced their way out, and you heave out the only words you can think right now. “I hate you.”

And you do right now, for being cruel enough to give you a taste of him. Weren’t the kind words and gentle touches bad enough? No, not for him. With his next words it becomes clear: Commander Zoro, your enemy, the destined love of your life, has never held any mercy for you.

“I love you, too.”

You fail.

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You shouldn’t even be here. But the looks Sanji and Zoro have been giving you, the way they insist on protecting you, the way they always make sure you’re on the backlines of a fight…you can’t stand being looked down upon like that. They think you’re weak. And sure, you’re no superhuman like them. But you can handle yourself. You always have. You don’t know what you did to make them lose trust in you, but a few hours ago this solo mission seemed like a great way to get it back. Now it mostly seems like a great way to walk into an early grave.

You glance at the map in your hands, damp and limp between your fingers. It’s a pretty vague drawing in the first place, and now you’ve really it’s truly useless to you. To follow it you’d need to actually understand the landscape, and you can’t tell your left from your right in here. Someone smarter than you could tell these trees apart, or follow a game trail, or even just know which direction north is. But to you the green is endless, every inch of soil beneath your feet identical. When you look over your shoulder you can’t see where you’ve left your footprints, and when you look up to try to see the sun between the leaves you’re hit with a horrible sense of vertigo.

You could sit down and acknowledge your plight, or try to turn around and find your way back, but your feet keep moving forward. You don’t know if it’s a desire to prove yourself, or maybe the knowledge that you won’t be able to find your way back even if you turn heel. At least if you move forward you might find something on the other side, something beyond the endless wild, or, better yet, the treasure you’re looking for. The stock of gold and jewels buried somewhere here should be worth at least a billion berries, enough for everything the crew has been needing lately and more: a new lock for the fridge for Sanji, a new whetstone for Zoro, whatever materials Usopp and Franky could need for their next big ideas, and a full restock of the crew’s medical supplies for Chopper. Not to mention a stack of books taller than you for Robin and a full new wardrobe for Nami. And you’ll still have money to spare!

There’s no turning around. The idea of their faces, shining with joy and, if you’re lucky, a bit of pride for you, keeps your feet moving. No more strange glances and insistent hands pushing you behind them. You will prove your worth.

You come across something you wouldn’t quite call a clearing, but the trees let in enough sunlight you can finally see more than a few feet in front of you. The sunlight is gentle on your face, pleasant despite the sweltering heat. You can’t help but close your eyes, leaning back and taking a deep breath, pretending for a moment it doesn’t feel like you’re suffocating. When you open your eyes again, they land on a beautiful…something.

It’s a light, shimmering blue, and it catches the light so perfectly you can’t help but be drawn toward it. Upon closer examination, it seems to be a flower, though it isn’t like any you’ve ever seen. Its petals almost look more like gems than plant matter, and the leaves on the stem are so thin they catch the light and reflect rainbows onto the ground below. You know this isn’t the treasure you’re looking for, but god, it must be worth something, right? You’ve never seen something so breathtaking. You tenderly reach out a hand to brush against the petals, just to feel it beneath your fingertips for a moment.

It explodes in your face.

Perhaps explodes isn’t the right word. There is no fire, no heat, just pure concentrated force that sends you staggering a few steps back. Some kind of debris forces its way into your lungs, sticking inside of your nostrils and throat. It makes you want to cough, but for some reason, you can’t. Your muscles just won’t cooperate. You can do nothing but breathe in, accepting whatever it is deeper into your body.

For a moment you’re stuck in a horrible limbo, unable to force air out but full enough that you can’t breathe in without risking popping a lung, until finally you’re saved.

You sneeze.

Loudly, repeatedly, spewing whatever is left of that horrible substance out of your mouth and nose.

A small cloud of yellowish dust catches the light, and you see the horrible thing that attacked you: pollen. Just…pollen. You can’t help but let out a strained chuckle. You thought you were dying over allergies?

God, maybe Sanji and Zoro are right that you need protecting. A pretty flower nearly killed you.

As you take a step to exit the clearing, ready to either continue on your journey or come to your senses, something shifts. You can’t tell where the feeling originates, but suddenly, there is a heat in you. It seems to come all at once, spreading from your core to the tips of your fingers and toes. At first it’s pleasant, welcoming, like a warm drink on a chilly day.

But it keeps going.

You can feel your temperature rising, small drops of sweat beginning to gather at your hairline. You stumble as you take your next step, ankle twisting slightly as you hit a loose branch, and before you know it you’ve hit the ground. You think your knee took the brunt of your fall, and you know it should hurt, but you can’t feel anything other than the concentration of heat that’s begun to center at your core. It’s quickly gone from uncomfortable to nearly painful. You let out an involuntary whimper as your cunt spasms around nothing, begging for something, anything to fill it.

What’s happening to you?

As the heat grows more and more unbearable, you find yourself peeling back layers in hopes of cooling yourself off. Slowly at first, aware that you’re in the middle of the jungle and any predator could come and take a bite out of you at any moment, but soon your logic is gone and you swear you can hear your pants rip as you rush to remove them. The humid air does nothing to help cool you. It almost makes it worse. Relief isn’t coming.

And then you hear a couple of very familiar voices calling your name in the distance.

“Angel? Dear? Are you alright?” Sanji sounds like he’s about to cry, voice shaking with worry. Even Zoro’s gruff call of your name is a little unsteady.

You open your mouth to call out, to warn them about whatever’s happening to you, but the noise that leaves you is nothing more than a pathetic whimper. You want them to leave, to come closer. To turn around before they see you like this, to strip you bare with their eyes and wanting hands. You try to suppress the cries that slip from your mouth, but as you hear them crashing closer through the brush, you only seem to get louder.

“Where are you?” Zoro’s voice sounds like it’s coming from every direction, bouncing off of the trees around you and wrapping around you tighter and tighter. It’s as oppressive as the humid air, as the heat boiling within you.

“Here,” you squeak out, curling yourself tighter, muffling yourself in your arms in hopes he doesn’t hear. Your body and mind are ever at odds, your face hidden in shame and your dripping panties pointed squarely in the air. Their footsteps grow closer and closer, only a few feet away now, and you know you only have seconds before they find you. You want to reach for your shirt, or at the very least stop pushing your ass into the air, but your body isn’t listening to you. You aren’t in control anymore.

“Ang–” Sanji makes a small choking sound behind you, and you know he’s laid eyes on you. His footsteps stop dead, and you can hear the slight oof as Zoro presumably slams into his back at full speed.

“Why’d you–oh.”

The silence stretches on for what feels like years, but you can’t bring yourself to break it. You manage to just barely hold back your sobs, biting down on your arm to suppress the noises. This is humiliating. This is exhilarating.

“Are you alright?” To an untrained ear Zoro sounds unbothered, but you know him well enough to know every single muscle in his body is tensed right now. Nothing makes him more uncomfortable than a situation that he can’t handle with a sword, save a naked woman lying on the ground in front of him.

Luckily you’re only half naked.

“Mhm–” You can’t finish the sound of confirmation before another wave of heat wracks your body, and your back arches as you cry out. You might be burning alive.

Two twin cries of your name echo as they both rush forward, ready to fight whatever they must to keep you safe. Before you can call out for them to stop, they’re beside you, hands on your back, and your horrible betrayer of a body moans.

They don’t move their hands.

“What’s wrong? What hurts?” Sanji’s thumb is rubbing back and forth on your back, a movement you know is meant to soothe but makes you want to rip him to shreds with your teeth. You can feel your muscles contracting, pulsing, but refusing to relax. It’s as though you’re being pulled apart from the inside. The burning only gets worse, but even so, you crave his touch even more.

“E–everything,” you manage to groan out. Zoro looks around for a moment, trying to figure out what is doing this to you, but he doesn’t find the culprit. He takes his hand off of you, ready to investigate, and you can’t help the sob that tears itself from your throat.

You expect him to scoff, to roll his eyes, to tell you this is why they can’t trust you to go on your own, but instead his voice softens to something gentler than you thought he was capable of. “I’m not leaving, I promise. I’m just taking a look around, okay?”

“We’re right here,” Sanji murmurs in ascent. “Everything’s gonna be alright.” It might be the only time you’ve ever heard them refer to themselves as a unit. It stings your pride to know the only thing they can agree on is that you need protecting, but you’re grateful nonetheless.

Zoro moves further and further away, eyes scanning the clearing for any sign of danger, and you’re convinced he won’t find any until you hear a surprised intake of breath. “What’s this?”

He leans down to take a closer look at the flower.

“Zoro wait!” You uncurl just in time to watch him get hit in the face with a thick yellow powder that immediately begins to waft in your direction. You try to stand to cover Sanji’s mouth and nose, but your muscles seize again, pulling you down as you cry in pain. Sanji gasps as you fall, ready to ask if you’re okay, but as he does, you see his pupils blow out and you know it’s already too late.

Sanji doubles over coughing, the motion sending his face right into your neck. Zoro’s panicked footsteps grow closer until his legs crash into you, sending him tumbling face first into the ground. His legs lay across Sanji’s back, his hands desperately grabbing for purchase and finding nothing. 

As Sanji tries to lift himself off of you, Zoro groans as he’s flipped onto his back. “What the hell are you doing, cook?”

“What the hell am I doing? What the hell are you doing? You tripped over us!” He turns back to check on you, only to silently stare at your chest. You realize your breasts have spilled out of your bra, fully exposing them to your saviors. Sanji leans forward unconsciously, not breathing, enchanted by your body.

Zoro forces himself up onto his elbows, voice furious. “I couldn’t see, idiot! I just–” He stops short upon seeing you. His mouth opens and closes a few times, his face turning redder than you’ve ever seen it. “You–um–your…tits.”

You expect him to continue, but he doesn’t. Instead he continues to stare, and you can’t help but notice the rapidly growing bulge in his pants. You try not to stare, but if he and Sanji are, why shouldn’t you? Normally you would feel ashamed of how you’re salivating at the sight, but instead all you can think about is how big his cock must be, and how it would feel stretching out your jaw.

You manage to tear your eyes away from it just in time to see Sanji tearing off his suit jacket. His face is somehow redder than Zoro’s, and you see the flush continues as he starts to unbutton his shirt. “I’m sorry angel, I hate to undress in front of a lady, but it’s–something is wrong.”

“I think it’s the flower,” you manage to eek out as you move to unclasp your bra. “I–it shot pollen at me and now everything hurts and it’s so hot–”

Two strong arms wrap around you. Zoro takes a deep breath against your neck, as though savoring your scent. The feeling is comforting, or at least it is before he sinks his teeth into your skin. The sound you make is primal and vulgar, from deep within your chest. You throw your head back as your back arches, and for just a moment, the heat isn’t a burning fire as much as a wonderful, intoxicating warmth.

You expect Sanji to snap at Zoro for touching you, but instead you look up to see him staring at you again, eyes wide, as he fumbles to unbuckle his belt. “Can I touch you, too? God, please, can I? It’ll fix me, I just know it, please–”

He tears off his pants and underwear in one go, his painfully hard cock springing to attention. You wish you could admire it for a moment, but the second it's free he pounces on you, lips smashing into yours with the desperation of a starving man. His hands reach to grope at your chest, rolling your nipples in his fingers, and the sensation is so overwhelming it makes your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Zoro’s hands slide lower as he ruts his hips into your ass, allowing you to feel just how hard he is. His fingers catch the waist of your panties, and with little fanfare he rips them off of you, exposing your dripping wet pussy to the air. You can’t help but cry out from both surprise and relief, and Sanji takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. Zoro’s fingers find your clit, circling once, twice, thrice before plunging into your waiting opening.

His fingers curl as he pushes in and out, first painfully slow and then impossibly fast, the sound of squelching filling the clearing. You’d be mortified if it didn’t feel heavenly.

Sanji’s hands leave your chest to wrap around his aching cock, pumping in the hope it might bring him so desperately needed relief. He whimpers into your mouth, the sound so pathetic it makes you want to swallow him whole. Zoro’s mouth finally leaves your neck (which is thoroughly marked) to whisper in your ear. “Is this what you needed? Why you were sitting here waiting for us?”

You moan against Sanji’s mouth, which Zoro takes for affirmation. He hums with satisfaction, his hips rutting against you so hard you’re bouncing up into Sanji, chests pressing together. “You need us just as badly as we need you. Let us give you what you need. What I’ve wanted to give you from the moment I saw you.”

Sanji’s lips leave yours, a line of spit connecting you, so he can plead, “Please, princess, let us give you what you need, please please please–”

“Please, fuck me,” you moan, pulling them impossibly closer. “Please save me, please take me, as pathetic as I am–”

“You’re anything but pathetic, sweetheart,” Zoro groans in your ear. “Need you like I need water. You could rip us to pieces if you wanted. Fuck, we’d let you.”

With that, his fingers leave you, and you can’t help but cry out. He kisses one of the marks he left on your neck, something that should soothe but only makes you sob harder. He lifts his fingers, clearly ready to stick them in your mouth, but before he can, Sanji grabs his hand, pulling it to his mouth and wrapping his lips around it. He stares at you, tongue swirling around Zoro’s digits, and his eyelashes flutter with pleasure. After a moment he removes them from his mouth with a pop before whispering, “Absolutely delicious.”

Zoro takes back his hands to remove his pants, and you can feel his cock press against your ass. “Need you so badly, sweetheart. You have no idea.”

Sanji presses forward, his chin resting on the shoulder Zoro isn’t occupying. “You’ll be the death of us. You’re everything. God, please can I–”

“Please fuck me.”

They both press into you at once.

The noise that leaves you is nothing short of a scream, the sound bouncing against the trees surrounding you, moving far beyond your little slice of heaven. Despite their usual issues, Zoro and Sanji move in perfect sync, thrusting into you at a rhythm you can only describe as punishing. They fill you completely, pressing into you so far there is not an inch of space between you two. You swear they could tear you in half, but you would die happy. The heat has grown, spreading along your limbs and to your skull, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s exhilarating, euphoric, downright orgasmic. You’ve never felt such pleasure before with anyone.

Zoro’s mouth has gone from biting you to sucking on your neck, trying to find your sweet spot, but in your current state, every inch is electric. Sanji is instead nibbling on your ear, whispering sweet nothings that turn into nothing more than breathless moans and whimpers. Every once in a while he manages a word, angel and goddess and please, more.

Their hands roam your body, groping at every spare inch, and every touch is further relief from the fire burning inside you. Your scream and moan and keen with every move, and they only seem to speed up with every noise you make.

They’re absolutely railing you, enough that you know you won’t be able to walk after, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You lift your hands and grip each of them by the hair, tugging to ground yourself.

The sound of them both moaning in unison is what does you in. You clench around Sanji’s cock, your head thrown back with a scream, and your vision whites out as every muscle in your body grows impossibly tighter. The heat coalesces into one giant burning flame before suddenly you are filled with an overwhelming relief.

Almost simultaneously you feel yourself filled with two shots of cum, a far gentler warmth than the one previously filling your core. You feel the two hard bodies surrounding you suddenly relax, and before you realize it you’ve all fallen back to the ground, Zoro behind you and Sanji in front. Both are still inside of you, panting heavily, and they make no move to unsheath themselves from you.

Sanji, breathless, murmurs to you, “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you sigh.

And then you feel the heat begin to rise again, and you clench around his rapidly growing cock.

You whimper, but Zoro just grins against your skin. “Looks like you need us for a bit longer. Don’t worry, we’re happy to help.”