This is going to kill him.
Title: Be-Spotted
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 300
Rating: MA
Prompt: Dots
Characters: Zoro, Sanji (and light bondage)
The blindfold is made of lurid orange dots. That much he knows. It doesn’t matter but he tries not to think of how it looks. He grunts and strains against the cloth that binds his wrists. He can break it, he’s strong, but the fact that it holds even under the faintest test of his not inconsiderable strength sends a stinging thrill through him. Sanji snickers, shifting his warm weight against Zoro’s stomach. He is clothed while Zoro is not and it’s unfair, but it’s part of the game.
“You’re like a shitty animal,” Sanji says.
“Shut up,” Zoro replies, trying not to shiver at the cool smooth fingertips over his nipple. He won’t give in. He won’t react. That is his game. To remain stoic throughout, testing his strength in all areas.
“So testy, Marimo,” Sanji says. Zoro tries to think of a comeback but the love cook is distracting him, soft touches everywhere. There but not enough. Not near enough. A feather-light kiss on his other nipple, and a brush of warm air, and then a sharp bite that makes him curse and jolt off the bed.
“Stop screwing around,” he snaps, aware of the hoarseness in his voice. He wants to move. To touch. To feel teeth and hands and streaks of pain and simmering pleasure. This is just annoying and he refuses to believe his heart is hammering like a kettle drum. It picks up even more when Sanji laughs deeply.
“This is just the entree.” The bed shifts and he feels a light tickle against his ear as Sanji’s voice pours like heated silk into it. “Please wait for the main course.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. And afterwards says a lot more than that as his vision is filled with spots and stars.
Medium: Fic
Word Count: 300
Rating: MA
Prompt: Dots
Characters: Zoro, Sanji (and light bondage)
The blindfold is made of lurid orange dots. That much he knows. It doesn’t matter but he tries not to think of how it looks. He grunts and strains against the cloth that binds his wrists. He can break it, he’s strong, but the fact that it holds even under the faintest test of his not inconsiderable strength sends a stinging thrill through him. Sanji snickers, shifting his warm weight against Zoro’s stomach. He is clothed while Zoro is not and it’s unfair, but it’s part of the game.
“You’re like a shitty animal,” Sanji says.
“Shut up,” Zoro replies, trying not to shiver at the cool smooth fingertips over his nipple. He won’t give in. He won’t react. That is his game. To remain stoic throughout, testing his strength in all areas.
“So testy, Marimo,” Sanji says. Zoro tries to think of a comeback but the love cook is distracting him, soft touches everywhere. There but not enough. Not near enough. A feather-light kiss on his other nipple, and a brush of warm air, and then a sharp bite that makes him curse and jolt off the bed.
“Stop screwing around,” he snaps, aware of the hoarseness in his voice. He wants to move. To touch. To feel teeth and hands and streaks of pain and simmering pleasure. This is just annoying and he refuses to believe his heart is hammering like a kettle drum. It picks up even more when Sanji laughs deeply.
“This is just the entree.” The bed shifts and he feels a light tickle against his ear as Sanji’s voice pours like heated silk into it. “Please wait for the main course.”
“Fuck,” he mutters. And afterwards says a lot more than that as his vision is filled with spots and stars.