“Keep quiet.”
“I’m…mmm~…trying to.” You whine in a whisper, fingers scratching against the wood of the table behind you. “You aren’t helping!”
You’re struggling to shift your panties to the side and level yourself over the seat of his crotch on such a narrow bench, all while he finger fucks you relentlessly, the squelch of his fingers dragging through your slick erotic and distracting.
His erect cock is ready and waiting for you to slide down on him and, finally positioning yourself in the right spot above him, he moves his hand from your cunt just as you plunge downwards. His hard flesh spears you in a way that’s oh, so, delicious. You bite your lip to stop from moaning louder than you intend.
“Damn…so tight.” He mutters in awe.
It’s late and most of the crew are already in their quarters trying to sleep. And for once the swordsman didn’t have the night watch. It was Usopp’s turn, which was unfortunate, considering how riled up Zoro had become over the course of the day.
Neither of you were sure why he was so needy for you, but given you lacked access to your typical location of choice for nightly trysts such as this, he’d made do with the empty kitchen. It was a testament to just how badly he wanted to fuck you, going so far as to do it in the cook’s domain. Anything associated with the blonde cook nearly turned Zoro off entirely, so…clearly he was desperate for some action.
Neither of you had bothered to remove your clothing, simply shifting the necessary portions out of the way so you could satisfy the sensual itch both of you couldn’t seem to scratch without help of the other.
“Zoro…” You moaned low, causing him to growl and drag the shell of your ear through his teeth. You clench around him, pushing him to fuck up into you at a faster rate.
His fingers dug into your hips, guiding your wet pussy up and down over his dick. The angle was awkward, and with clothing it wasn’t nearly as smooth of an experience, but it was enough for you. Your hands clawed at his shoulders, holding on for dear life as you rode his lap with as much fury as you could muster.
Your panting breaths made the space between you hot and stuffy, but neither of you were willing to pull away. So quickly, you feel yourself rising to meet the peak of the blinding orgasm you could feel approaching-
Nearby footsteps make you freeze in each other’s embrace. You stare into each other’s face, eyes wide with realization that you were about to have an audience and there was no time to compose yourselves in a way that wouldn’t make this look like what it really was.
Zoro closes his eye as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your head into his neck just as the gallery door opens, admitting exactly the last person the green-haired man wanted to see in that moment.
Sanji stops upon spotting his unexpected visitor, a frown coming over his face. “What are you doing in here, Marimo? You better not have snuck into the sake supply while I was out…and if you’re hungry, I’m not making anything for you. Wait until breakfast.”
“Tch.” He scoffed quietly, arms wrapped loosely around your waist.
Zoro was thankful that he had practiced composure with Mihawk during his time away from the crew. Because had he not, he wasn’t sure if he could keep the red tinge from his face and his typically bored expression. His mind raced to come up with something to say, and with a flick of a glance at your still posture, he gestured to you with his head. “Y/N wanted a snack. She fell asleep after.”
Luckily, the table that sat between the two of them hid his lap where you were still impaled on his twitching cock. The warmth of your cunt was almost painfully pleasurable around him, and it took everything in him not to jerk his hips up into you.
Sanji eyed your ‘sleeping’ form with a gentler gaze, pulling a cigarette from the box in his pocket and lighting it with his lighter. He took a drag and blew out the smoke, sighing. “She could have asked me to make something, if dinner didn’t fill her up. I could have made a quick snack.”
“You weren’t here.” Zoro pointed out, to which the blonde glared back.
“Hmph. I’m only a call away. And I pity the sort of meal you might have made for her.” His eyes tracked around the kitchen counters and sink, narrowing in suspicion.
It was clear he wondered why there was no evidence of a meal having been prepared or eaten, and so Zoro only glared further. “She had some fruit.”
“Hmm.” Sanji stood staring at him a few more seconds, before shaking his head in dismissal and heading behind the counter where the fridge and appliances were. “Well, as much as I’d hate to wake her up, I need to prepare for tomorrow’s meal. So get out.”
Zoro could feel your fingers tighten on the back of his shirt, and you inadvertently wiggled on his lap, causing him to grit his teeth in his jaw. He knew you weren’t doing it on purpose–you didn’t want to get caught just as much as him–but your shifting wasn’t helping him at all.
“Oi, did you hear me? Wake Y/N up and take her somewhere she can sleep comfortably.”
“Shitty cook…” Zoro muttered, figuring there was nothing else he could do. With luck, the oversized shirt you’d worn would cover where the two of you were still connected, and you’d be able to fake your sleep until they were out of sight of the cook. “I’ll get her to bed without even waking her.”
Your head nestles further into his neck, keeping your eyes closed and signifying that you’d gotten his message, to keep pretending to be asleep.
Shifting himself sideways and finally up to his feet, Zoro is proud that he’s managed to keep your union hidden from the cook, who was eyeing him with distaste. With a steady and firm grip around your legs and back, holding you comfortably against him so as not to 'wake up,’ he brings you towards the gallery door and opens it with one last glare at Sanji.
The gallery door finally shut behind you, you’re miraculously in the clear from Sanji’s careful gaze. He could feel your heart beating rapidly in your chest from the sheer danger of the possibility of getting caught. His dick throbbed painfully inside of you, aching to thrust but unwilling to do anything in such a public space.
Swallowing past the strain of slowly coming closer to spilling himself inside of you–the heat and wetness of your pussy was nearly too much for him–he made a beeline for the next best place he thought you two wouldn’t get caught.
“Where are we going?” You whisper in his ear, tone edging on a whine. Your hips wiggle, wanting friction but unwilling to do more than such a subtle movement to get it.
“Broom closet.” He bit out, lengthy sentences failing him in that moment.
“The broom closet? You’re going to fuck me in a broom closet?” You hiss in absolute bewilderment, startled to see that in the time it took you to ask the question, he’d already reached the door and stepped inside.
“Yes.”
And with that, he shut it behind you as quietly as his pent-up mind could handle.
ns 15.158.61.51da2
