Experimenting
Title: Experimenting
Fandom: One Piece
Character/Pairing: Sanji/(female)Zoro
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: ~1200
Notes: Request fic written for maxine_chan/serasarahhhh with the prompt "Zoro/Sanji; genderswitch (girl!Zoro)." Loosely inspired by mallowmateys canon, but only in a very general way. First time writing for One Piece, so any comments/critiques/suggestions are especially treasured. ...I never actually address why Zoro is a girl in this. He just is, okay.
Experimenting
Zoro isn't used to feeling this vulnerable. Zoro also isn't used to being this female.
Right now, she's lying on a mess of blankets in the hold, naked, the flickering light of a lantern reflecting softly off her bare skin. Nudity is something that never really bothered Zoro before, but right now it's starting to creep her out, or maybe embarrass her. Either way, her cheeks feel hot, because Sanji is sitting above her, equally naked, but just as male as ever, and he won't stop staring.
"...What are you looking at?" Zoro fidgets under his steady gaze, and that embarrasses her even more.
His visible eye is glazed over in that dumb look he gets around women. "You~, Zoro-chwaaaan~"
Zoro resists the urge to cross her arms over her chest, and instead brings her leg up sharply and knees Sanji in the head. "Oi. Stop that."
Sanji winces, but the blow brings him back to his senses. "Sorry. I just--shit, marimo. You're gorgeous."
Zoro scowls, looking away. "This was a dumb idea."
"No!" Sanji's voice sounds a little frantic, and he takes Zoro's chin in one hand and turns her back to face him. "You'll like it, I promise." He stubs out his cigarette and lowers himself, hand still on Zoro's chin, to kiss her softly on the lips.
"Mmfff..." Whatever protest Zoro had been about to make is muffled and forgotten at the kiss. Sanji is gentle, but Zoro doesn't want gentle, and she raises her head to crush her lips against his, hard. Sanji responds to that willingly, his tongue finding its way into Zoro's mouth with lightning speed.
Sanji tastes like cigarettes and beneath that, so subtle it's almost unnoticeable, meringue.
When they finally break apart, both of them are gasping. Zoro arches her neck, tilting up to nip Sanji's jaw, which is slightly rough with stubble. She feels him move his hand from her chin, tracing the bow of her collarbone, sliding along the smooth curves of her arm--still toned and strong, but softer somehow. Her skin is slightly damp, and his fingertips are cool; their touch leaves a lingering trail in their wake--something tingling, almost electric.
Then Sanji removes the hand completely, bracing himself up, and Zoro bites back a protest as he pulls away from her.
Sanji notices, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm just getting warmed up."
"Then--" Zoro scowls again, catching herself before she can pull him back down against her, like her arms want to. Sanji is already too smug about this whole situation; if the bastard knew how much she'd enjoyed that kiss he'll be insufferable. Zoro keeps her gaze pointedly away from Sanji, waiting for him to continue.
And waiting. She's beginning to think that the asshole cook is having some serious second thoughts about this, and it pisses her off. She's more pissed at herself than at him, though--for agreeing to this in the first place, but mostly because she knows she doesn't want him to stop, damn it. For every moment that slips by and his hand doesn't take her chin and face her back to him, for every instant his lips aren't on hers, Zoro's annoyance grows.
Then a new sensation makes her gasp. Anger forgotten, she whips her gaze away from the shadowed wall and tucks down her chin to meet Sanji's eye. He's lowered himself to Zoro's right breast, the dusky pink tip caught carefully between his teeth as he teases with his tongue. His fringe of fair hair brushes the skin there, tickling just enough to be slightly maddening, but not exactly in a bad way. Zoro hisses a breath in between clenched teeth, and Sanji pauses, raising his head a bit. "Well?" he asks, uncertainty not completely masked by the bravado in his voice.
Zoro makes a fist and cuffs him on the shoulder. "Don't stop, dumbass."
And that's all the encouragement Sanji needs. He grins, and presses his lips down against Zoro's, one hand moving to her left breast, kneading gently but insistently. The technique seems practiced, probably a variation of the one he uses for pastries. "Harder." Zoro's words are muffled by their liplock, but Sanji gets the picture when she smashes her mouth against him hungrily. Zoro feels him plying a nipple between his thumb and fingers, pinching just hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain. She responds without thinking, rolling her hips beneath him and grinning a little when her pelvic bone connects with his thigh, hard enough that he's sure to bruise.
Sanji takes that as an encouragement of another sort, however, and repositions himself slightly. Zoro feels the hand on her breast move lower, following the line of scar tissue that meanders down her torso. That, too, is a different sort of sensation: the puckered white skin of Mihawk's scar isn't as sensitive to touch as the rest of her, and Sanji's fingers seem more ghost than flesh as they trace the path of it. Then they stray from the scar as well, dipping lower onto her stomach--the sleek, lean lines of Zoro's muscles there so different from their former chiseled bulk--and suddenly, she feels a twinge of panic.
Zoro turns her head sharply, freeing herself from their kiss. Sanji doesn't notice anything's wrong--or he pretends not to--continuing to press kisses against Zoro's cheek and jaw, and still sliding his hand lower. "Stop it!" Both the volume and the girlish pitch of Zoro's protest surprise her, and apparently Sanji too. He pulls back a little to blink down at her, a bit stupidly. "Not there," Zoro continues in a harsh whisper, feeling her cheeks warm in a sudden embarrassed flush.
Sanji continues to look puzzled for a moment more, then rolls his eye back dramatically. "Shit, marimo. You've gotta be kidding me."
Zoro squirms a little, because Sanji still hasn't moved his hand. "It's just...embarrassing."
"Embarrassing," Sanji repeats in a deadpan.
"Yeah. And a little too..." Zoro lets herself trail off, because she isn't even sure where to go with that sentence. A little too weird just won't cut it, because what isn't weird about this entire situation?
Sanji pauses a moment more, staring at her, then gives a small shrug, "If you say so..."
"I do."
"Fine then." The slight pressure of Sanji's hand lessens just a bit as he starts to lift it...but then the pad of his middle finger presses down again, lightly, and moves quickly through the tight thatch of curls at the base of Zoro's abdomen, sliding into the cleft between her thighs and brushing against something there that causes a shiver of tantalizing electricity to shoot up and down Zoro's body. She gasps.
"Whoops." Sanji grins down at her. "My hand slipped." He lowers himself--still grinning, the smug bastard--and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Zoro's mouth. "Now where were we?"
Zoro scowls, sighs, and finally grabs Sanji's wrist roughly, pulling his hand back to the base of her stomach. "Here," she says gruffly. "We were here."
She can practically see his eye glaze over in that dumbass look of his, even though it's impossible to see his face at all right now, because he's nuzzling her jaw, even as his fingers move southward.
"Hai~, Zoro-chwan~," Sanji breathes near her ear, and he's just lucky that Zoro suddenly finds herself too distracted to punch him.
Fandom: One Piece
Character/Pairing: Sanji/(female)Zoro
Rating: PG-13/R
Word Count: ~1200
Notes: Request fic written for maxine_chan/serasarahhhh with the prompt "Zoro/Sanji; genderswitch (girl!Zoro)." Loosely inspired by mallowmateys canon, but only in a very general way. First time writing for One Piece, so any comments/critiques/suggestions are especially treasured. ...I never actually address why Zoro is a girl in this. He just is, okay.
Experimenting
Zoro isn't used to feeling this vulnerable. Zoro also isn't used to being this female.
Right now, she's lying on a mess of blankets in the hold, naked, the flickering light of a lantern reflecting softly off her bare skin. Nudity is something that never really bothered Zoro before, but right now it's starting to creep her out, or maybe embarrass her. Either way, her cheeks feel hot, because Sanji is sitting above her, equally naked, but just as male as ever, and he won't stop staring.
"...What are you looking at?" Zoro fidgets under his steady gaze, and that embarrasses her even more.
His visible eye is glazed over in that dumb look he gets around women. "You~, Zoro-chwaaaan~"
Zoro resists the urge to cross her arms over her chest, and instead brings her leg up sharply and knees Sanji in the head. "Oi. Stop that."
Sanji winces, but the blow brings him back to his senses. "Sorry. I just--shit, marimo. You're gorgeous."
Zoro scowls, looking away. "This was a dumb idea."
"No!" Sanji's voice sounds a little frantic, and he takes Zoro's chin in one hand and turns her back to face him. "You'll like it, I promise." He stubs out his cigarette and lowers himself, hand still on Zoro's chin, to kiss her softly on the lips.
"Mmfff..." Whatever protest Zoro had been about to make is muffled and forgotten at the kiss. Sanji is gentle, but Zoro doesn't want gentle, and she raises her head to crush her lips against his, hard. Sanji responds to that willingly, his tongue finding its way into Zoro's mouth with lightning speed.
Sanji tastes like cigarettes and beneath that, so subtle it's almost unnoticeable, meringue.
When they finally break apart, both of them are gasping. Zoro arches her neck, tilting up to nip Sanji's jaw, which is slightly rough with stubble. She feels him move his hand from her chin, tracing the bow of her collarbone, sliding along the smooth curves of her arm--still toned and strong, but softer somehow. Her skin is slightly damp, and his fingertips are cool; their touch leaves a lingering trail in their wake--something tingling, almost electric.
Then Sanji removes the hand completely, bracing himself up, and Zoro bites back a protest as he pulls away from her.
Sanji notices, and chuckles. "Calm down. I'm just getting warmed up."
"Then--" Zoro scowls again, catching herself before she can pull him back down against her, like her arms want to. Sanji is already too smug about this whole situation; if the bastard knew how much she'd enjoyed that kiss he'll be insufferable. Zoro keeps her gaze pointedly away from Sanji, waiting for him to continue.
And waiting. She's beginning to think that the asshole cook is having some serious second thoughts about this, and it pisses her off. She's more pissed at herself than at him, though--for agreeing to this in the first place, but mostly because she knows she doesn't want him to stop, damn it. For every moment that slips by and his hand doesn't take her chin and face her back to him, for every instant his lips aren't on hers, Zoro's annoyance grows.
Then a new sensation makes her gasp. Anger forgotten, she whips her gaze away from the shadowed wall and tucks down her chin to meet Sanji's eye. He's lowered himself to Zoro's right breast, the dusky pink tip caught carefully between his teeth as he teases with his tongue. His fringe of fair hair brushes the skin there, tickling just enough to be slightly maddening, but not exactly in a bad way. Zoro hisses a breath in between clenched teeth, and Sanji pauses, raising his head a bit. "Well?" he asks, uncertainty not completely masked by the bravado in his voice.
Zoro makes a fist and cuffs him on the shoulder. "Don't stop, dumbass."
And that's all the encouragement Sanji needs. He grins, and presses his lips down against Zoro's, one hand moving to her left breast, kneading gently but insistently. The technique seems practiced, probably a variation of the one he uses for pastries. "Harder." Zoro's words are muffled by their liplock, but Sanji gets the picture when she smashes her mouth against him hungrily. Zoro feels him plying a nipple between his thumb and fingers, pinching just hard enough to blur the line between pleasure and pain. She responds without thinking, rolling her hips beneath him and grinning a little when her pelvic bone connects with his thigh, hard enough that he's sure to bruise.
Sanji takes that as an encouragement of another sort, however, and repositions himself slightly. Zoro feels the hand on her breast move lower, following the line of scar tissue that meanders down her torso. That, too, is a different sort of sensation: the puckered white skin of Mihawk's scar isn't as sensitive to touch as the rest of her, and Sanji's fingers seem more ghost than flesh as they trace the path of it. Then they stray from the scar as well, dipping lower onto her stomach--the sleek, lean lines of Zoro's muscles there so different from their former chiseled bulk--and suddenly, she feels a twinge of panic.
Zoro turns her head sharply, freeing herself from their kiss. Sanji doesn't notice anything's wrong--or he pretends not to--continuing to press kisses against Zoro's cheek and jaw, and still sliding his hand lower. "Stop it!" Both the volume and the girlish pitch of Zoro's protest surprise her, and apparently Sanji too. He pulls back a little to blink down at her, a bit stupidly. "Not there," Zoro continues in a harsh whisper, feeling her cheeks warm in a sudden embarrassed flush.
Sanji continues to look puzzled for a moment more, then rolls his eye back dramatically. "Shit, marimo. You've gotta be kidding me."
Zoro squirms a little, because Sanji still hasn't moved his hand. "It's just...embarrassing."
"Embarrassing," Sanji repeats in a deadpan.
"Yeah. And a little too..." Zoro lets herself trail off, because she isn't even sure where to go with that sentence. A little too weird just won't cut it, because what isn't weird about this entire situation?
Sanji pauses a moment more, staring at her, then gives a small shrug, "If you say so..."
"I do."
"Fine then." The slight pressure of Sanji's hand lessens just a bit as he starts to lift it...but then the pad of his middle finger presses down again, lightly, and moves quickly through the tight thatch of curls at the base of Zoro's abdomen, sliding into the cleft between her thighs and brushing against something there that causes a shiver of tantalizing electricity to shoot up and down Zoro's body. She gasps.
"Whoops." Sanji grins down at her. "My hand slipped." He lowers himself--still grinning, the smug bastard--and presses a soft kiss to the corner of Zoro's mouth. "Now where were we?"
Zoro scowls, sighs, and finally grabs Sanji's wrist roughly, pulling his hand back to the base of her stomach. "Here," she says gruffly. "We were here."
She can practically see his eye glaze over in that dumbass look of his, even though it's impossible to see his face at all right now, because he's nuzzling her jaw, even as his fingers move southward.
"Hai~, Zoro-chwan~," Sanji breathes near her ear, and he's just lucky that Zoro suddenly finds herself too distracted to punch him.