(One Piece) Cream
March 23rd, 2006 18:34![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
salmon_pinkTitle: Cream
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Kuro/Zoro
Rating: NC-17
Words: 250
Notes: Questionable consent. Violent imagery. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
onepieceyaoi100, prompt "education".
He wanted to make him bleed.
He wanted to make him scream.
He wanted to see the arrogant swordsman writhe beneath him, swearing and sweating and exquisite in his agony.
He hated.
He hated them all.
He hated that damned liar, that Usopp, with his pretty words and his hold over Kaya that had threatened everything he had worked for.
He hated that wretched thief, her cunning whiles, her shrewd calculations, all legs and breasts and sharp smiles.
And he hated that insignificant rubber brat, in all his innocence and ignorance, besting him, felling him, denying him the chance at crossing swords and claws.
He wanted, wanted so badly, wanted to see the frustration in dark eyes as Roronoa Zoro was humbled and humiliated, wanted to prove that three blades were nothing to him, who had four on each hand. A much needed lesson.
Wanted to take him, bend him, break him.
Wanted so badly.
Wanted to tear into him, feel the flesh give around him, see the blood run from him, stain his own skin coppery-red. Wanted to hear hoarse cries and curses.
Wanted to lick at each new wound, drink in that anguish. To draw terrified moans, to scratch at his throat, to be inside, to see the words being formed, to force himself down into the source of such sinful noise.
Wanted with an intensity that left his breath short and his teeth bared.
Wanted.
Would take.
Kuro had only to wait.
Soon.
Soon, he would take.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Kuro/Zoro
Rating: NC-17
Words: 250
Notes: Questionable consent. Violent imagery. For
onepieceyaoi100, prompt "education".He wanted to make him bleed.
He wanted to make him scream.
He wanted to see the arrogant swordsman writhe beneath him, swearing and sweating and exquisite in his agony.
He hated.
He hated them all.
He hated that damned liar, that Usopp, with his pretty words and his hold over Kaya that had threatened everything he had worked for.
He hated that wretched thief, her cunning whiles, her shrewd calculations, all legs and breasts and sharp smiles.
And he hated that insignificant rubber brat, in all his innocence and ignorance, besting him, felling him, denying him the chance at crossing swords and claws.
He wanted, wanted so badly, wanted to see the frustration in dark eyes as Roronoa Zoro was humbled and humiliated, wanted to prove that three blades were nothing to him, who had four on each hand. A much needed lesson.
Wanted to take him, bend him, break him.
Wanted so badly.
Wanted to tear into him, feel the flesh give around him, see the blood run from him, stain his own skin coppery-red. Wanted to hear hoarse cries and curses.
Wanted to lick at each new wound, drink in that anguish. To draw terrified moans, to scratch at his throat, to be inside, to see the words being formed, to force himself down into the source of such sinful noise.
Wanted with an intensity that left his breath short and his teeth bared.
Wanted.
Would take.
Kuro had only to wait.
Soon.
Soon, he would take.
