Currently Missing Zoro's Loud Laugh.

ZORO'S BACK >>>>> EVERYTHING ELSE

The best stuff in FASA’s 1988 Star Trek: Next Generation Officer’s Manual was about Mr Data.

Marvel Cinematic Universe Trilogy Posters by Rico Jr via behance 

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zoro = my one piece -> shanks = my yummy side piece -> film-red-shanks is like, too red -> dark merlot red

if shanks had a nickel for every time someone ate a devil fruit because of him he’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s weird it happened twice

PATIENCE | Roronoa Zoro

synopsis: zoro's is pretty patient, isn't he?

content: smut

It was a contradiction only Zoro could embody so effortlessly—being patient and impatient all at once.

He hovered over you like a storm cloud, muscles drawn tight with restraint, as though every fiber of his body screamed to lose control. His jaw was clenched, his breath coming in warm, ragged bursts against your ear, and yet… he moved slow. So deliberate.

His grip on your thighs was possessive—firm, grounding—thumbs digging into your soft flesh to keep you spread wide for him as he pressed his chest to yours, caging you beneath him. The heat between your bodies was stifling, sweat beginning to bead along his neck and your sternum, slick and hot where skin met skin.

Then he pushed in—deep.

You gasped. The stretch of him was devastating. Your pussy opened around him with sinful ease, clenching down with desperate greed as inch after inch filled you. He was thick, pulsing, and impossibly hard, and it felt like your body could barely take him—yet refused to let him go. Your walls fluttered around his cock, suckling him deeper, wetness gushing so freely it slicked down to your ass, pooling beneath you in a hot mess of arousal.

And Zoro groaned.

A low, gravelly sound that vibrated from his chest to yours as he buried himself to the hilt. He stilled, forehead dropping to yours, eyes clenched shut, and you could feel him trembled against you . His entire body stuttered—shoulders tense, thighs flexing, his cock twitching deep inside your slick, pulsing pussy.

“Fuck…” he hissed, voice strained, ruined. “You’re so fuckin’ tight—so wet…”

You moaned, breath hitching as you tried to move, to roll your hips, to take him even deeper, but his grip on you tightened. “Zoro,” you gasped, nails biting into the muscle of his arms, “I can’t… I need more.”

His green eyes snapped open, pupil's blown dark with lust and unreadable. Without a word, he leaned back just enough for his hand to slide between your bodies, fingers trailing over your swollen, slick folds until they found your clit—engorged and aching. He rubbed slow, lazy circles at first, watching your face twist with pleasure as his thick cock throbbed deep inside you.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice ragged, half-gone. “Creaming all over me… fuckin’ soaking my cock.”

You were. The mess was obscene.

Your pussy gushed around him with every tiny shift of his hips. Slick, creamy arousal coated his shaft and his thighs, spilling down to the sheets beneath you. Every inch of him came out shiny with it, only to be swallowed whole again the moment he thrust back in. You could hear it—smack, squelch, drip—the lewd music of your bodies meeting, of your cunt milking him like it never wanted to let go.

“Zoro—!” you gasped, body jolting as he pressed down harder on your clit, rougher now, rubbing tight, fast circles with his calloused thumb while his cock slowly dragged out… then slammed back in.

A breathy moan escapes your swollen lips, your back arching off the bed, thighs twitching in his grasp. Your pussy clamped down around him with brutal force, fluttering and squeezing, flooding him with even more slick. The sensation made him groan—deep and guttural—like the feel of your cunt spasming around him nearly undid him.

“You’re drivin’ me crazy…” he groaned, grinding into you, his hips grinding in slow, punishing circles that made you see stars. “You feel that? You’re fuckin’ dripping—you’re makin’ a mess of me.”

You were soaking him. His cock slid in with barely any resistance now, gliding effortlessly through your creamy slick, the wet sounds loud and unrelenting. Your arousal smeared across your inner thighs and his lower abdomen, sticky and hot, coating his fingers as he continued playing with your clit—rubbing, flicking, pressing—all while never stopping the slow, maddening thrusts of his hips causing your eyes to roll back.

And Zoro? Zoro was wrecked.

His forehead pressed to yours again, breath shaking against your lips as he tried to keep his pace steady. But the way you pulsed around him, the obscene slickness soaking his cock, the way your body bucked beneath his—he was barely hanging on.

“You feel that?” he growled against your mouth, voice dark and wrecked. “How wet you are for me?”

You whimpered, nodding, mouth falling open in a broken moan.

“Good,” he breathed. “Then take it.”

And then—he snapped. His hips slammed forward, hard and unforgiving. The rhythm turned savage, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room alongside your cries. His thumb never left your clit, rubbing fast, desperate circles as he fucked you into the mattress, each thrust drawing more slick, more moans, more of everything you didn’t know you were starving for.

You could barely think, barely breathe—your body consumed by him, your mind spiraling as the pleasure surged higher, hotter, wilder. Your thighs mindlessly hooked around him with a small stutter. And zoro fucked you like he had something to prove, like he needed to carve himself into your body so deeply you’d never forget the feel of him. His voice was low, broken, murmuring curses and half-spoken praise against your lips as he chased both of your ends.

And somewhere, tangled in the sheets, in the heat, in the mess of it all—your orgasm crested, overwhelming, blinding.

You shattered around him, body convulsing, thighs clamping around his waist, the loudest moan spilling from your lips as your pussy gushed around him in thick waves of cream. Zoro groaned—loud and feral—and buried himself to the base, his own release slamming into him like a freight train.

Your body trembled beneath him, flushed and limp, every nerve still singing in the aftermath of your release. Your chest rose and fell in sharp, uneven breaths as Zoro hovered above you, his own form tight with the last tremors of orgasm.

He was still inside you—buried to the hilt, thick and pulsing—his breath ghosting over your mouth as he groaned through the final waves, hips twitching with each aftershock. His release was hot, thick, and so much. You could feel it flooding you, coating your insides in molten spurts until there was no space left to hold him.

When he finally stilled, he didn’t move right away. Just laid there, forehead resting against yours, arms trembling with the effort of not collapsing onto you completely.

“Shit…” he whispered, voice hoarse. “You feel that?”

You did.

The warmth of him spilling out of you, slow and heavy, slicking the inside of your thighs. His cock twitched one final time before he slowly, reluctantly, pulled out. The stretch of him leaving you was almost as intense as the stretch of him entering—your swollen pussy fluttering weakly around the absence, still clenching like it didn’t want to let him go.

The moment he slipped free, his cum followed in a slow, obscene rush—spilling out of your gaping pussy in thick, creamy streams. It clung to your folds, your inner thighs, sticky and warm and utterly messy. Your body twitched at the sensation, too sensitive, too overwhelmed, and yet it made your breath hitch in your throat.

Zoro watched it happen, eyes dark and half-lidded, expression wrecked and possessive.

“Fuck…” he muttered again, almost reverently. “Look at this mess.”

He dragged his hand down your thigh, slow and firm, before bringing it between your legs. Two fingers dipped into the mess—slick with both your arousal and his release—then he swiped them upward, catching the thick, white drip that threatened to spill further. His fingers were rough, hot, confident. You gasped softly when he pushed them back in—slow and deliberate—pressing his cum back into your sensitive, swollen pussy like he couldn’t stand to waste a drop.

“You’re not losing a fuckin’ thing,” he murmured, eyes fixed on the way you twitched around his fingers. “Gotta keep it all in.”

You whimpered, a weak protest caught in your throat, but your body betrayed you—hips giving the tiniest, involuntary roll against his hand. He chuckled low under his breath, the sound raspy and smug.

“You like that, huh?” he teased, fingertips pushing a little deeper, curling slightly just to feel the way your walls pulsed weakly around them. “Still so greedy… even after I’ve filled you up.”

You hid your face against his chest with a soft groan, and he smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead—gentle, grounding, the smallest hint of tenderness after such ferocity.

His fingers lingered a moment longer, pushing, curling, letting you feel the weight of his release inside you again before he finally pulled them free—slow and careful. He looked at the mess on them, slick and glistening, then brought them to your lips.

“Taste it,” he said softly, already brushing them against your mouth. “Taste what we made.”

You parted your lips without thinking, tongue flicking out to meet his fingers. The taste was heady, salty and sweet, and the moment your mouth closed around them, Zoro’s breath caught in his throat.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice low and wrecked again. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Behind the scenes of Captain America: Civil War (2016)

Monkey D. Luffy [One Piece] by TsuyaNoUchi

https://tsuyanouchi.etsy.com

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