[One Piece: Zoro/Sanji] Prompt: Bitch, please
Title: Pretty
Fandom: One Piece
Characters: Zoro x Sanji, the Inner Maiden
Prompt: 14-Bitch, please
Word Count: 628
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: For current whereabouts, though it takes place afterward
Summary: Now that she’s been awakened, she won’t go away.
Sometimes, Sanji still puts on make-up. Late at night, in the empty galley, he stares at his reflection in a frying pan and carefully applies mascara, eye shadow, lip liner. He never goes overboard, like those freaks on Momoiro Island (and, yes, he still considers them freaks); he just uses enough to look nice.
“There’s no shame in wanting to look good for someone special,” coos the stupid Inner Maiden, who absolutely refuses to leave him alone now that she’s been awakened.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffs, gently reddening his cheeks with blush. “This isn’t exactly part of my plan to capture Nami-san’s heart.”
“Not her,” Inner Maiden dismisses him casually. “The swordsman. That dark gaze, those shoulders, those pectorals-” She gives a soft orgasmic sigh that makes Sanji feel a little uncomfortable. “He’s delicious.”
“And you’re delusional.”
“Says the man carrying on a conversation with himself.”
“You’re not me!”
The door opens and Sanji hastily flips over the pan, like the dolled up version of himself only exists in that reflection and he’ll look perfectly manly and normal when-
But he doesn’t. Because when Zoro walks in and stops, his eyes narrow in confusion and barely contained laughter.
“What are you doing up?!” Sanji nearly shrieks and he really wants to kill those shitty queens for doing this to him.
“It’s my watch,” Zoro says, like it’s obvious, like Sanji is supposed to just know when he has the midnight shift. “And I’m thirsty.”
“Go drink seawater,” he hisses, reaching to turn on the sink faucet so he can rinse the make-up off.
“So what’s with the pretty face?”
Regular Sanji-the Sanji from before, who never looked twice at a man and never wore a dress-would’ve replied with a snappy insult and a kick to the swordsman’s solar plexus. But This Sanji-the one still being plagued by femininity and a bit more honesty than he’s used to allowing himself-does no such thing.
This Sanji looks at the swordsman with an astonished expression and a fluttering heart. “Pretty?” he asks, slightly breathless, while the maiden inside of him fans her warm face. “You think I look pretty?”
“I-uh, what?”
“You think I look pretty.”
“That’s-” Zoro looks confused and a little nervous, and there’s something else that Sanji can’t name on his own, but the Inner Maiden kindly tells him it’s called interest. “That’s not what I said. Or, not what I meant. I was being-”
“Pink might not be my color.” Sanji turns around and picks the frying pan back up, studying his face. “I wore a lot of it back on Momoiro Island, but they were kind of obsessed with it. With a name like that, what else would you expect, really?” (Part of him hears himself talking like this, rambling on about pink, and wants to tear his hair out.) “But I don’t know. What do you think?”
In the reflection of the pan, he sees Zoro moving closer, but thinks nothing of it until he’s right there.
Grabbing Sanji’s shoulders and turning him back to face him, Zoro growls, “You still in there, shit cook? Is this really you?”
“Of course it-”
His words are cut off when Zoro gives him a crushing, violent kiss.
The Inner Maiden swoons and practically melts in her drawers. She instructs Sanji-begs him, even-to press up against that perfect, hard body and strip naked and spread his legs wantonly wide.
And so…
Sanji knees him the balls.
“Still there,” Zoro says, voice strained; and he seems pleased, even as he’s wincing and slowly falling to his knees. “The pink is good.”
Sanji looks back at his reflection and nods in agreement, while the Inner Maiden weeps a little.
Fandom: One Piece
Characters: Zoro x Sanji, the Inner Maiden
Prompt: 14-Bitch, please
Word Count: 628
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Spoilers: For current whereabouts, though it takes place afterward
Summary: Now that she’s been awakened, she won’t go away.
Sometimes, Sanji still puts on make-up. Late at night, in the empty galley, he stares at his reflection in a frying pan and carefully applies mascara, eye shadow, lip liner. He never goes overboard, like those freaks on Momoiro Island (and, yes, he still considers them freaks); he just uses enough to look nice.
“There’s no shame in wanting to look good for someone special,” coos the stupid Inner Maiden, who absolutely refuses to leave him alone now that she’s been awakened.
“Yeah, right,” he scoffs, gently reddening his cheeks with blush. “This isn’t exactly part of my plan to capture Nami-san’s heart.”
“Not her,” Inner Maiden dismisses him casually. “The swordsman. That dark gaze, those shoulders, those pectorals-” She gives a soft orgasmic sigh that makes Sanji feel a little uncomfortable. “He’s delicious.”
“And you’re delusional.”
“Says the man carrying on a conversation with himself.”
“You’re not me!”
The door opens and Sanji hastily flips over the pan, like the dolled up version of himself only exists in that reflection and he’ll look perfectly manly and normal when-
But he doesn’t. Because when Zoro walks in and stops, his eyes narrow in confusion and barely contained laughter.
“What are you doing up?!” Sanji nearly shrieks and he really wants to kill those shitty queens for doing this to him.
“It’s my watch,” Zoro says, like it’s obvious, like Sanji is supposed to just know when he has the midnight shift. “And I’m thirsty.”
“Go drink seawater,” he hisses, reaching to turn on the sink faucet so he can rinse the make-up off.
“So what’s with the pretty face?”
Regular Sanji-the Sanji from before, who never looked twice at a man and never wore a dress-would’ve replied with a snappy insult and a kick to the swordsman’s solar plexus. But This Sanji-the one still being plagued by femininity and a bit more honesty than he’s used to allowing himself-does no such thing.
This Sanji looks at the swordsman with an astonished expression and a fluttering heart. “Pretty?” he asks, slightly breathless, while the maiden inside of him fans her warm face. “You think I look pretty?”
“I-uh, what?”
“You think I look pretty.”
“That’s-” Zoro looks confused and a little nervous, and there’s something else that Sanji can’t name on his own, but the Inner Maiden kindly tells him it’s called interest. “That’s not what I said. Or, not what I meant. I was being-”
“Pink might not be my color.” Sanji turns around and picks the frying pan back up, studying his face. “I wore a lot of it back on Momoiro Island, but they were kind of obsessed with it. With a name like that, what else would you expect, really?” (Part of him hears himself talking like this, rambling on about pink, and wants to tear his hair out.) “But I don’t know. What do you think?”
In the reflection of the pan, he sees Zoro moving closer, but thinks nothing of it until he’s right there.
Grabbing Sanji’s shoulders and turning him back to face him, Zoro growls, “You still in there, shit cook? Is this really you?”
“Of course it-”
His words are cut off when Zoro gives him a crushing, violent kiss.
The Inner Maiden swoons and practically melts in her drawers. She instructs Sanji-begs him, even-to press up against that perfect, hard body and strip naked and spread his legs wantonly wide.
And so…
Sanji knees him the balls.
“Still there,” Zoro says, voice strained; and he seems pleased, even as he’s wincing and slowly falling to his knees. “The pink is good.”
Sanji looks back at his reflection and nods in agreement, while the Inner Maiden weeps a little.