( what precious few thoughts linger in zoro's mind are washed away by the tide of his orgasm, panting softly, head flopping back against the pillows as he attempts wading through the fog that's settled over him. post-nut clarity is definitely a fucking myth, because he can barely comprehend how β intense that felt.
(it probably doesn't help that he doesn't really jerk off, even when he wakes up hard and sleepily drooling on nami's tits with sanji's stubble and hot exhales tickling the back of his neck β he just yawns and stretches and meanders outside to go for a run or lift some weights; he's never really understood the seemingly all-encompassing desperation other people feel. β until now, maybe.)
the soreness in his shoulders starts to creep in first β not unpleasant, really, just unusual from the way he's been holding his arms, muscles flexing in his attempts at keeping still, not realizing how tightly his fingers are curled in on themselves until he relaxes them. zoro swallows hard, rolling his shoulders one at a time, pointy ears relaxing against his hair as he slowly blinks his eyes open to look through heavy lids dumbly, perhaps awed, even, down at nami grinning like the cat that got the canary. fuck. she's so β
his hips jump as she palms over his spent cock, earning her another pathetic little dribble of cum and her taunts only leave him even more slack-jawed and stupid, brain practically short-circuiting as she smears his mess over his torso and takes some for herself, fingering it inside of her. the dichotomy of the unabashedly filthy way nami touches herself and the tender way she pets his ears, toys with his earrings is enough to make his head spin, enough to make him feel vaguely insane.
β is this what the shitty cook feels like all the fucking time? consumed with all-encompassing desire and devotion that practically seeps through his pores? for nami, he gets it. he really fucking gets it, even if he's too far gone right now to conjure up any other way to express it besides obedience.
it's pure instinct when his lips part and his tongue lolls out, eyes fluttering closed as she bears some of her weight down on him, chin tipping up just so as he laps at the slick folds of her cunt before licking deeper inside once, groaning as he tastes himself, tastes her, tastes β
zoro tugs at his restraints without even thinking about it, the chafe of the leather belt against his wrists the only reminder of why he can't just wrap his arms tightly around her thighs and hold her against him. nami's in control, and that satisfies something burrowed deep in his chest that he can't tell if it comes from being a familiar and having their connection or if it's just been inside him all along. he wants to please her, tongue outstretched and pressed against her, chin slick with her arousal and his own saliva, wants her to grind her clit against him until she's moaning and shuddering and can't hold herself up anymore. )
no subject
(it probably doesn't help that he doesn't really jerk off, even when he wakes up hard and sleepily drooling on nami's tits with sanji's stubble and hot exhales tickling the back of his neck β he just yawns and stretches and meanders outside to go for a run or lift some weights; he's never really understood the seemingly all-encompassing desperation other people feel. β until now, maybe.)
the soreness in his shoulders starts to creep in first β not unpleasant, really, just unusual from the way he's been holding his arms, muscles flexing in his attempts at keeping still, not realizing how tightly his fingers are curled in on themselves until he relaxes them. zoro swallows hard, rolling his shoulders one at a time, pointy ears relaxing against his hair as he slowly blinks his eyes open to look through heavy lids dumbly, perhaps awed, even, down at nami grinning like the cat that got the canary. fuck. she's so β
his hips jump as she palms over his spent cock, earning her another pathetic little dribble of cum and her taunts only leave him even more slack-jawed and stupid, brain practically short-circuiting as she smears his mess over his torso and takes some for herself, fingering it inside of her. the dichotomy of the unabashedly filthy way nami touches herself and the tender way she pets his ears, toys with his earrings is enough to make his head spin, enough to make him feel vaguely insane.
β is this what the shitty cook feels like all the fucking time? consumed with all-encompassing desire and devotion that practically seeps through his pores? for nami, he gets it. he really fucking gets it, even if he's too far gone right now to conjure up any other way to express it besides obedience.
it's pure instinct when his lips part and his tongue lolls out, eyes fluttering closed as she bears some of her weight down on him, chin tipping up just so as he laps at the slick folds of her cunt before licking deeper inside once, groaning as he tastes himself, tastes her, tastes β
zoro tugs at his restraints without even thinking about it, the chafe of the leather belt against his wrists the only reminder of why he can't just wrap his arms tightly around her thighs and hold her against him. nami's in control, and that satisfies something burrowed deep in his chest that he can't tell if it comes from being a familiar and having their connection or if it's just been inside him all along. he wants to please her, tongue outstretched and pressed against her, chin slick with her arousal and his own saliva, wants her to grind her clit against him until she's moaning and shuddering and can't hold herself up anymore. )