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Wip wednesday wwrwwew hey guys sorry i was absent. i lowk got kidnapped but here u go

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“You look like fucking shit,” Zoro says from the doorway, not bothering with a greeting as he goes to sit on the counter across from the tea table Sanji has his head pillowed on.

“Don’t talk to me right now,” Sanji says, his voice muffled my his palms over his face. His leg is bouncing anxiously under the table, socked feet making barely audible thumps on the drywood. It’s pissing Zoro off. “Just–” Sanji starts, but the rest of what he was going to say disappears into a sigh.

The thing is, Sanji really does look miserable. Over the past few days, he’s gotten increasingly jittery– he won’t stay in one place besides the kitchen for longer than a minute, often pacing around the upper deck. He’s fidgety, even at the dinner table, and Zoro honestly doesn’t even remember if Sanji came into the men’s bunkroom to sleep last night. He knows that it’s because of Sanji’s withdrawal from ciggarettes or whatever, but it’s still unsettling to see.

They haven’t fought in about a week, and Zoro has started to feel this strange need to… help. In some way. He doesn’t know how, but apparently all Sanji has to do is ride out the symptoms for the next couple weeks, so if Zoro can make that even a little bit better, then that’s what he’ll do.

The thing is, as out of his depth he is when Sanji isn’t constantly bugging him, he’s even more confused about how exactly to do…this. He and Sanji have always had a healthy amount of violence mixed into all of their interactions, but that isn’t really an option right now.

So, Zoro goes back to what he knows, stretching over his seat on the counter to steal a bottle of sake from the booze cabinet. Sanji doesn’t move

to protest.

Zoro pops the cap, taking a swig of the rich alcohol. “I saw you throw all your stuff overboard last week.”

“Fuck off.”

“I saw the one you dropped too. Watched you pick it up and chuck that shit over the railing.”

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Ik i just posted but like

I need y’all to see this lmao

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Why did i just get clocked to hell pls help

The author's poorly disguised fetish

The author's proudly displayed fetish

The author's fetish you're pretty sure they don't realise they have

The author's fetish which they're firmly convinced everyone has and is just pretending otherwise

The author's non-sexual special interest which just sounds like a fetish because of their habitually unfortunate phrasing

The fetish the author is making a well-meaning effort to cater to in spite of clearly not understanding it themselves

The author's fetish that never quite makes it into the text because they keep getting sidetracked by the requisite worldbuilding

The author's utterly pedestrian sexual preference which the text treats like a bizarre fetish because they've got shit to work through

The author's seemingly innocuous recurring trope they're going to have a personal revelation about ten years down the road

The author's fetish you missed on a first reading because it's so far out of pocket, it never occurred to you that you could sexualise that

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Quickly, Americans! Look at zosan fluff and dont loose hope!

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taller sanji… taller sanji…. save me taller sanji zosan….

hc that Sanji got two inches taller post-ts and Zoro stayed the same height and Zoro HATES it with all of his heart and soul ( that’s a lie, he just hates that he’s into it ) and Sanji is a super smug bastard about it and starts getting things off of shelves for Zoro even though the swordsman could reach them himself. gah…. taller Sanji zosan….

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Guys does anyone know that one 2000s high school au Zosan fanart that used photos from “locker room culture” by James Patrick Dawson as refs?1!1?2?1 I’ve looked but i cannot find it ANYWHERE. here’s the ref please help me find ts💔

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hc that sanji wears one of zoro’s earrings, but he had to get his ear pierced first and was such a fucking baby about it. like bro was squirming before the needle even came close to his ear. he cried after it was done btw and was even more of a bitch about aftercare … zoro has to wrestle him b/c he wont touch it otherwise

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real screenshots from a zosan fic outline i wrote on google docs while i was blackout drunk. hello what is a preminse

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Sanji rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt so that his forearms are exposed and Zoro finding it incredibly hot for no reason. gah i love these stupid idiots so much i want to crush them in a hydraulic press

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ZOSAN KINKTOBER PROMPT 2 - Cunnilingus/Facesitting

Hey. its me...... kinktober is not going as planned. have this shit, which you can also read on ao3 here!! _______________

“You impatient fuck,” Zoro growls, fumbling with the doorknob to their hotel room with his back to the wood because Sanji can’t keep his damn hands off of him long enough for him to open the door. “Can you wait?��”

“No,” Sanji murmurs, lips roving over the side of Zoro’s neck while he’s still trying to get this fucking door open. His hands slip under Zoro’s shirt, gripping at his waist and digging his nails into his hips in a way that makes Zoro start.

Eventually the door gives way, sending them both stumbling into the dingy room Sanji booked for the night and then there are hands pushing him roughly onto the bed and oh fuck, Zoro needs to tell him.

“Cook,” Zoro breathes, gripping blonde strands at the base of the other man’s neck. Sanji hums against him, but doesn’t pause. “ Sanji. Stop.”

Sanji pulls back, a mix of confusion and apprehension in his eyes. “What?” Zoro doesn’t answer, trying to figure out how to approach this. He slides an apprehensive hand over his face, and Sanji leans back from his place hovering over Zoro.

“We– We don't have to do anything,” the blond says, “If you don't want to.” and Zoro should really say no but Sanji’s hands are still resting on his thighs and Zoro kind of doesn't want them to move.

“No, it’s not that,” Zoro sighs. “I– You– ” And in lieu of explanation, he just takes Sanji’s hand and shoves it down his pants. Which, in hindsight, was not the best idea, seeing how Sanji full-body freezes once his fingers come into contact with the wetness in between Zoro’s legs. 

Sanji doesn’t say anything, the only sound being the sharp intake of breath he makes when he looks down to where his hand lays touching Zoro’s folds. He clenches his jaw, and Zoro can see the muscle in his face twinge as he does.

Sanji hesitates a little before opening his mouth.  “Zoro.”

“Yeah?”

“Take off your pants.” What?

“You really don’t care that I–”

“No, I don’t, oh my god Zoro please take your fucking pants off.” 

Zoro doesn’t argue, lifting his hips to shuck off his pants and Sanji wastes no time spreading open his thighs to lick all the way from Zoro’s taint to his clit.

“Fucking hell,” Zoro grits out, Snaking a hand into Sanji’s hair. The blond groans, tongue lapping at Zoro’s leaking hole eagerly, like he’s trying to fucking swallow him whole. Sanji eats him out like he’s starving, sucking and licking at Zoro’s folds and grabbing his hips and pulling Zoro onto his tongue.

Zoro clenches around the intrusion, breathy grunts getting punched out of him each time he rocks himself forward. Sanji places a hand on his stomach, twisting it so that he can press on Zoro’s clit and the contact sends lightning bolts of pleasure up Zoro’s spine.

Sanji comes up for air, lips shiny with spit and slick, “Tastes so good, Moss,” he murmurs, slurring like he’s fucking drunk.

Zoro feels his face heat. “Shut the hell up.” 

“Yeah, I could think of a lot more things I should be doin’ with my mouth right now,” Sanji retorts, Pushing both him and Zoro farther onto the bed. It squeaks under their combined weight. “Like getting you on top of me.” 

“You fuckin’ freak. I’m not sitting on your face.”

“Please,” Sanji borderline whines, batting his fucking eyelashes up at Zoro like that’s gonna do something. And–well. Zoro can’t say that it doesn’t.  

Zoro cards a hand through blonde strands, watching as Sanji’s eyes flutter closed at the contact. The cook presses a kiss to his inner thigh.

“I hate you.” Zoro feels a smile creep onto Sanji’s face. “Fine.” 

Zoro pulls the blonde further onto the bed by his hair, relishing the sounds he makes when it gets tugged a little too roughly. “And I’m not doing any of that hovering bullshit.”

“Didn’t think you would.” Sanji responds, making himself real comfortable between Zoro’s legs like he belongs there. “Come on, Zoro.”

And with that, Zoro straddles his face, lowering himself as Sanji grips his thighs and Jesus Fucking Christ, is the only thing he can think as Sanji works his mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, wasting no time before fucking Zoro open on his tongue.

It’s wet and messy, slick sounds filling the hotel room as Zoro grinds himself on Sanji’s face, choked-off expletives falling from his mouth as jolts of pleasure interrupt The swordsman’s train of thought. On top of that, Sanji is moaning like he’s the one getting tongue-fucked and that does more to the swordsman that he’d care to admit.

“Fucking bastard,” Zoro grunts, fisting one hand in Sanji’s hair and grinding down hard, chasing the heat pooling in his stomach and bringing his other hand to press on his clit. 

Sanji seems to take this in stride, tightening his grip on Zoro’s thighs until his nails press hard enough to leave marks. They speed up in unison, Sanji’s mouth working deliciously around him and fuck, it’s too much. “Lemme up, I’m gonna–” Come, Zoro wants to say, but he’s interrupted by Sanji shoving two fingers inside of him and then he’s gushing all over Sanji’s face and stupid fucking dress shirt. 

The cook doesn’t complain, just laps up as much as he can as Zoro ruts erratically into his open mouth and fingers, doubled over and gasping while his orgasm rips through him. He spares a glance down at Sanji, who honest to god looks like he’s getting off more than Zoro is; his eyes are barely open, his brow furrowed in pleasure as the remaining grip he has on Zoro’s thigh loosens. 

Unfortunately, it’s not long before overstimulation sets in and Zoro begrudgingly lets go of the cook’s hair, lifting himself off. Sanji’s fingers slide out of him easily, and he hears the man make a disappointed sound at the loss of contact when Zoro collapses on the hard mattress next to him. “Perv.”

Sanji huffs, a light, breathy sound. “You owe me a shirt.” He pauses. “Can we go again?

Zoro shoves him off of the bed.

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https://www.tumblr.com/skribbyposts/762733890736717824/resting-sad-face-sanji-my-beloved-hc-that-hes?source=share

What working 9 to 5 does to a motherfucker 😔

so incredibly real. overworked and perpetually morose businessman sanji is now canon

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going to sleep dreaming of zosan tonight

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watching multiple porn videos not for jacking off but to research how the fuck people eat pussy so i can write it accurately in my fan fiction

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ZOSAN KINKTOBER DAY 1 - SCENT

Hey yall, i know it's actually october 3rd BUT that just means that there's gonna be three fics posted today. Also this version is unbeta'd but the corrected version will be up on my ao3! Love yall, and enjoy!! ______

After Sanji finishes prepping lunch and dinner, he pokes his head out of the galley doorway to bark at Zoro to wake the fuck up because his food is in the fridge. However, he’s not in his usual napping spot. Which is strange, because the marimo never moves unless he’s working out in the crows’ nest. Sanji spares a glance up there as well, but he can’t see any movement. Whatever, he doesn’t care what Zoro does with his time anyway. Sanji just wants to take a nap before he needs to slave over the fucking stove making lunch for fifteen people (six and a half of which are Luffy.)

He heads into the men’s bunkroom, intending to collapse on his bed til’ about six pm. But instead stumbles upon something very very strange.

Zoro is standing right next to Sanji’s bed, gripping onto a jacket– Sanji’s jacket– like a lifeline with his nose buried into the fabric, taking deep breaths. His eyes are closed, so he doesn’t see Sanji gaping in the doorway like an idiot– wait no, Sanji isn’t the idiot in this situation. That’s besides the point, what the fuck is Zoro doing?

Is Sanji shocked? Well, yes, but there’s also a sense of smug curiosity buried in there for some ungodly reason. Zoro’s always had a keen sense of smell, Sanji sees it in the way he cringes at brussels sprouts cooking from all the way in the crows’ nest or how he always can tell when a storm is brewing even with his eyes closed. Which makes it all the more puzzling to see Zoro, standing there, sniffing Sanji’s fucking jacket like it’s the first breath of air he’s taken in years.

“Can you tell?” Sanji asks, because for some reason impulse won over and he couldn’t be assed to say ‘what the actual fuck are you doing you freak’ like a normal person probably would. Zoro’s eyes fly open at the sound of Sanji’s voice, startled grey darting to look in the doorway while he’s still nose-deep in Sanji’s jacket.

Zoro says something, but Sanji can’t hear because he’s still muffled by the fabric and that’s doing something to Sanji for some godforsaken reason and-

“I bought something new. Today, I mean.” Sanji needs to shut his mouth, because now Zoro is looking at him like he’s got three damn heads. “Cologne.”

“…Oh.” Zoro slowly brings Sanji’s jacket away from his face, Looking less like he’s been caught red-handed and just, very, very confused. “Okay.”

“Nice, right? I got it from that tiny stall on the coast.”

“Yeah. S’nice.” Zoro says, now clutching Sanji’s suit jacket in one hand as the other comes to swipe over his mouth. “You, uh, smell different.”

“You think I smell nice?” And that gets him the barest of flustered nods. Since Sanji’s already dug himself into a hole he can't get out of, he gives into curiosity and moves further into the room to rest his back against the wall. “It’s better when it’s on me, you know.”

“Huh. Really?”

“Yeah. C’mere.”

before Sanji can actually process what just came out of his own mouth there's a hand at his chin nudging his face up so his neck is exposed, plush lips brushing against his collarbone as Zoro closes his eyes and breathes him in. He can’t stop the choked dound he lets out at the sudden movement, and zoro responds in kind, curling his arms around Sanji’s midsection and pulling him closer. closer.

Zoro’s gripping the back of his shirt now, pressing his face as far as it can go into the junction between Sanji’s head and neck, taking heavy breaths that send heat roiling in Sanji’s stomach. He shifts his leg to settle in between Zoro’s thighs and the swordsman rolls his hips, pressing his erection into Sanji’s thigh with a strangled curse and Sanji doesn’t think blood has ever traveled do his dick faster.

“Fuck, Zoro–”

“Off, take this shit off,” Zoro breathes, his hands coming to trace Sanji’s chest before he pops three of the fucking buttons off of Sanjji’s shirt. Normally, Sanji would be pissed, but he can’t seem to focus on anything except how good Zoro’s tongue feels as he laps up the sweat pooled in sanji’s clavicle. oro moves to grab the back of Sanji’s neck , and then he’s being pulled into a harsh kiss, gasping into Zoro’s mouth because he can taste his own sweat on Zoro’s tongue and all he wants is more.

They’re grinding against each other now, and Zoro won’t stop mouthing on his chest and neck like he wants to swallow him whole. “This really does it for you, huh?” Sanji askes belatedly, carding a hand through Zoro’s hair from where his head rests on Sanji’s shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up,” Zoro hisses. “F— yes.” And the admisson sends Shivers down Sanji’s spine. “You smell like cigarettes all the time and whatever prissy shit you spray over it drives me fucking crazy.”

And now, out of all times, is when Sanji finds himself flushed. “Good to know.” He snakes an arm down to palm Zoro and the Swordsman’s hips stutter, chasing the pressure of Sanji’s hand.

“Dont stop,” Zoro’s breath hitches on the last syllable as Sanji strokes him, strong hands gliding over his chest before gripping onto his shoulders. It doesn’t take long before he finishes, spilling into Sanji’s hand with a strangled groan.

Neither of them move, for a moment after, Zoro panting heavy breaths into the Crook of Sanji’s neck,

“….Do I really smell like cigarettes?”

“Fuck off.”

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erm so yeah... this might be shit b/c i wrote it in like 3 hours but hope yall enjoyed.. there should be two more coming out tdy so WATCH OUT!!!!

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ZOSAN KINKTOBER DAY 1 COMING EXTREMELY SOON!!!!

head to my ao3 yall i prommy i'll keep up

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ZOSAN BRAINROT IS GETTING TO ME

okay picture Sanji, trying to wean off cigarettes, replacing them with lollipops, chewing on toothpicks, unconsciously putting anything in his mouth to keep it occupied so he doesnt think about smoking a pack. sometimes bites his nails, too.

Then Zoro, with a raging fucking oral fixation who could barely deal with the cigarettes, now struggling to cope with this new development without having an aneurysm.

and then Usopp and Nami, who find this absolutely fucking hilarious and keep handing Sanji increasingly phallic objects to fiddle with under the guise of getting him to kick the nail biting habit.

chaos, beautiful chaos.

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resting bitch face zoro and resting sad face sanji holding hands in public but it just looks like a forlorn man dragging around his scary ass pitbull that he turns around and shouts angrily at every 2 minutes. ah young love