Chapter Text
Later that night, Sanji couldn't sleep.
The whole crew had spent hours bruising on that forsaken platform and making fun of Sanji for all the “bottom Sanji” tags. It wasn't his fault he had a great ass and great legs!
But it was humiliating.
Why Zoro?
Why, out of all the people they encountered, did he have to be mostly paired with the cave man?
Because, according to society stereotypes, there was no way Sanji was ever going to be able to top Zoro. He could top Usopp and Franky, he might even get away with Brook, but not Zoro. Zoro checked all of the boxes when it came to stupid masculine ideals: strong muscles that could be shown off (not like Sanji's muscles, that were built for agility), stupid (incredibly stupid) bravado and a constant bitch face. He couldn't win.
And, normally, he was proud about that. He didn't want to live up to society's disgusting standard of what it meant to be a man. He wanted to love a woman like they should be loved (showered with admiration, attention, and appreciation). And Marimo was such an unrefined, smelling idiot. He didn't want to be like that! But Sanji's gentlemen-like behavior deemed him a bottom to the world when he was paired up with macho-Marimo. And it angered him.
Nami was in the middle of narrating how Zoro picked Sanji up princess-style because of an injured knee, when an actual ship started bombarding the Sunny and they had to stop their recreational time to actually fight. Still, they managed to mock Sanji amidst the battle by pretending to be surprised by how he could stand on his two feet without cane-Zoro.
Humiliating.
He did everyone's least favorite food (except for his two angels of course), and went to bed early. He could still hear them laughing from the deck.
He was so tired.
It had been an awful day full of surprises and new horrifying horizons.
But he couldn't sleep because he was so damned curious.
People were writing about him, describing him. People he might have passed off on an island, talked to on a market, maybe even fought with, were coming together on a platform to discuss how hot he was and how he would react to exciting scenarios. And it was all too tempting to see.
So he got up and got his old, abandoned cellphone from his casket and threw himself back into the hammock. As the cellphone screen was turning on he felt his own heart stammering into his chest. This was so stupid, what was he doing? Going online to read dirty fantasies about himself? Most of which were only crud renditions of himself as a bottom, cock-sucking, ass-eating bitch, as everyone on the Sunny liked to point out. Was he so love-deprived?
But the second the phone was on he was going to the internet and typing the platforms name. Nami had called it a weird thing that he didn't quite get, and wasn't going to ask to spell, so he had memorized the search bar tittle.
A blank page, filled with information greeted him. He went to the search bar and wrote his own name with trembling fingers.
The first story was a “y/n” one, like Nami had told him. It only had one chapter and wasn't finished. Nami had also said they could search with a specific criterion, like how many people had clicked on the story, so he did just that. The first one was a story about all of them finding the one piece (that was just a lousy gold treasure) and opening up a cat cafe afterwards.
It was amazing, a dream come true. Except for the fact that his crewmates had the delicacy of a drugaddicted monkey in abstinence and would for sure break all the tea cups in their cafe.
He also didn't like the way the writer described him, like a bossy cook, giving everyone orders and being stressed all the time. He was a chill dude, he didn't shout at people (Marimo wasn't “people”).
The next one was also a whole book about the crew's adventures, this time in space, and he was called “spece dad” (the Marimo was also called that and he didn't want to know the reason). His characterisation in this story was also not on point. He wasn't a father figure, Luffy did whatever he wanted and never heard anyone! And he was fine with them getting hurt for doing stupid shit that they would never learn from, as long as they did it far away from the girls.
He scrolled down quickly, seeing most of the main stories were not about him specifically. He wanted one where he was the main focus, because he was egocentrical like that.
The first that catched his eye was called Learning to love and it was a pairing of him and Robin. He still felt his heart flutter at the thought, but Robin had told him specifically she didn't want him reading about her, as well as Nami. Now, recounting, Usopp, Brook and Franky had also said that. Chopper and Luffy hadn't, but he would rather take his own eyes out than come even close to one of those stories. So… that left only one.
He rubbed his eyes hard, tossing and turning in the hammock for a long time, trying not to scream so as not to alarm his crewmates. He felt so ashamed over being so curious of this. He didn't wanna read about how people lusted over the Marimo's abs and tits. He didn't wanna read about himself in comparison, being mischaracterized to fit into a standardized submissive role. But he was so so curious.
So he did it, without thinking more, and clicked on the first one he saw, called My thing for blondes.
It was written from Marimo's perspective, or Marimo's perspective if he was a depraved gay man that hadn't seen flesh in a century. The whole three first chapters contained a detailed description of Sanji's body. Which would have been extremely flattering (it was, a little bit), if the author hadn't contorted his body to look like a dainty princess. Which was an insult to all dainty princesses out there! Sanji was as square as a table, his legs were all hairy and man-like, not long and smooth like a princess's would be. His hair was also not soft and wobbly, it got greasy all too quickly because he was in a hot kitchen all day, despite his intensive attention to showers. When the narrator (using Marimo's voice) started describing Sanji's ass as a ripe apple, he had to close the tab and reconsider his life choices for a second.
The next most popular story featuring his and Zoro's romance was a disturbing novel where he was kidnapped and tortured almost three times. Each time Marimo came to rescue him and they celebrated such victory with disgustingly explicit sex (even if book-Sanji would be very much injured and in pain). The third one talked about wolves and different genders. Sanji thought it was a feminist take on how gendered societies destroy our perception of women, till he found himself pregnant with twins. That had required a scream-into-pillow-pause to get past.
Truly tired now and lost for hope he clicked on the next one he saw called Fighting into the sunset. The title was quite descripting, it was five chapters of them fighting over stupid shit (he never did that, he only fought over important stuff). He almost thought he had read wrong and this wasn't a pairing story, only a common one, till he got to the last chapter.
It started the same, Marimo and himself just sharing a space and getting into a fight. They were hiding from an enemy attack on a closet (very on the nose, if you ask him), and the space was very narrow. Book-Marimo kept talking loudly (which was so on point) and book-Sanji kept shushing him, which book-Marimo reprimanded, saying it was even louder than him (which was not, at least on real-Sanji's mind). When they heard footsteps coming closer book-Sanji, being done with book-Marimo, put a hand over him, trapping him against the closet wall. When real-Sanji read that they were pressing into each other, he knew this wasn't going to be a story suitable for all audiences.
When the footsteps were fading away in the distance, book-Marimo slapped book-Sanji's hand away from his and they started wrestling to shut the other up. While they were throwing punches, their bodies began to rub against each other and the fight became an excuse to get closer and closer till they could feel each other's erect-
Sanji blocked his phone and threw it away in the other corner of the room. With his eyes open wide he turned around and screamed into his pillow.
Oh no.
Oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no.
That was hot.
Why was that hot?
He could feel his very real body heating up and his very real dick getting hard.
What was he doing?!
He was alone in their shared room, where the motherfucking real-Marimo could come in anytime, reading a porno about them and getting hard! He had gone nuts!
He needed some fresh air and getting away from that hellish device.
Uncomfortable and sweating he went to smoke on a solitary edge of the ship, praying he woke up with his memory deleted.
But he woke up with wood, not even remembering having a dream.
He felt like a teenage boy, all worked up over nothing, and spent the rest of the day bumping into his crewmates, shortfused and trying to be alone.
But at night he laid on his hammock, blood injected eyes staring into his roof and only one thought on his mind: he wanted to keep reading.
Not only was it extremely embarrassing to want to read about yourself doing nefarious things with people you know in real life, he had to do it while said people were sleeping in the same room. He could hear Luffy's and Usopp's snoring (the Marimo slept like a statue, didn't move an inch).
But what was truly the worst of all things, was that he had to read about Marimo. Everyone else had stated they didn't want to be read about! And reading about himself from y/n perspective was extremely weird and offputing (he couldn't imagine being picked up by himself, he wasn't that creative). So it only left two options. To be a weirdo or not to be, that was the question. And he chose the wrong one.
With his heart on his throat he quickly got to his feet, picked up his phone from the corner he had slammed it on last night (he was lucky none of the guys were very prone to tidying up). He decided he couldn't read it in there and headed to the right side of the Sunny, sitting down and leaning his back against the edge of the boat. Chopper was on watch today and he knew he wouldn't see him there. He lit up a cigarette and unlocked his phone.
Last night's story was still open there and he felt blush coming to his face. He couldn't continue reading it, no chance.
So he went back, browsing on the stories he appeared on, but no one catched his eye. Actually, the only one he had enjoyed so far was the one where he fought with the Marimo a lot. He had enjoyed it a tad too much, actually. He couldn't believe he was so touch deprived that only imagining doing something with anyone could get him so worked up. But it was like porno, anyway. He was a man, he couldn't expect to not get any reaction whatsoever.
So he went to the author of the story, he was called iloveswords3100, which was an extremely stupid name if you ask him. He had over thirty works about them, and all of them were a pairing of Zoro and himself, which was a little disturbing. Someone dedicating his life to write sexual stories about him and his crewmate. Mind blowing.
He clicked on the last story they had uploaded called Where the ocean lingers. It was a much softer story than the last one, mainly focused on lingering touches, hidden looks and the slow realisation of their feelings. If Sanji could disassociate his own face and name from the story, he would have even liked it. There wasn't even a kiss in this one, it was so chaste that it felt like whiplash when Sanji went to the next one called Sanji against the clone machine.
The title sounded fun and thrilling, and Sanji was ready to read about how badass he was and how he saved the world. But the story was centered around the fact that the clone machine only worked on book-Zoro, so book-Sanji lived in a world filled with ten Marimo's all fighting like idiots, which was literally his worst nightmare. Book-Sanji thought so too, so he embarked on an adventure to find and destroy the Marimo-making machine. The thing was that for some forsaken reason he had to travel with all ten Marimos and, because this was fiction, all ten Marimos wanted to be with him so badly.
Book-Sanji kept brushing them off or getting actually angry about all the attention, till original-book-Zoro came into the story (he had gotten lost, a classic, although the author swore the ocean had simply moved places). When he did, he got rationally angry with all the fake-book-Zoros who kept trying to get into book-Sanji's pants, and locked them away in a room, but then got irrationally angry at book-Sanji for not telling them no.
“What do you want me to do?” real-Sanji whispered to himself without meaning to. Book-Marimo was a fucking moron as always, just looking to fight him on anything. In the story, book-Zoro was telling book-Sanji he wanted him to beat every clone-book-Zoro's asses, like he knew he could, “damn right I can” whispered real-about-to-lose-his-mind-Sanji.
Book-Sanji got angry and started dismissing book-Marimo, when book-Marimo took book-Sanji's wrists on his hands and slammed him into a wall. Book-Sanji began kicking him strongly but book-Zoro roughly pushed his stinky face into book-Sanji's face and kissed him hard on the lips, and real-Sanji gasped.
He had been so caught up in the story that he had forgotten where all of this was leading. And just like last night, he could feel his body was not against the reading. There was something about the way this writer described their encounters, on the verge of fighting, that he found actually hot.
He began to shift uncomfortably on the floor as he kept reading how book-Marimo pushed book-Sanji into the wall, his hands leaving his wrists and travelling down book-Sanji's body, brushing his chest and waist as they went down to his hips. The writer described Sanji's body as strong and hot to the touch, his chest was hard as a rock, his waist moved flexibly and his hips were narrow. Book-Marimo kept brushing off book-Sanji's hair from his face and coming closer and closer till book-Marimo was so close Sanji could feel his whole body pressed against him. The position made Sanji well aware of how aroused Marimo was about the situation. Marimo had wanted to do this for so long, so fucking long, and Sanji couldn't even beggin to understand how much he was liking it, how much he didn't want it to stop. But then, a thump in the next room and someone was at the door and they had to give each other space to fight. In a second, the ten Marimo's were back in the room, all angry and shouting at original-Marimo, till they turned their faces and saw how original-Marimo had left Sanji. All sweaty, his lips shining and red, his shirt almost undone and his jacket nowhere to be seen. The Marimo's eyes gloomed on the night and Sanji felt a shiver down his spine.
One by one, they approached the cook, stealing a touch, a little kiss on the neck, all of them looking at him intently. And Sanji simply couldn't hold it anymore and had to admit he was liking this. All of this. All the attention, all the hungry eyes over his body, all the hands trying to get a hold of him so, with his eyes locked with original-Marimo's eyes, he nodded and surrendered to the delight.
The Marimo's destroyed his clothes in a second and a sea of prise and “you are so fucking hot”s came, filing him and making him all hot inside. “We are going to have to prepare you, it's going to be a long night” book-Zoro mentioned and the fic ended.
And, to his horror, real life Sanji was disappointed. Disappointed. Disappointed over not being able to read about how he was fucked over and over by eleven Marimo's. Marimo. His crewmate, who was sleeping not many steps from where he was. And he was fucking hard on the deck of the Sunny while Chopper was on watch. Great.
The author had left a note saying he had a second part already written but he thought it was too crude. It was actually cruel to post that information and do nothing about it. Despite him, Sanji wanted to know the rest. This morbid curiosity was getting the best of him so he went to the comment section and quickly created a guest user (kickingandcooking) and left a comment saying it was impolite to say he had a next part but not post it, what was he doing? Fishing for likes?
Being he was now at rock bottom, Sanji decided it was time to go to sleep. He finished his cigarette, got up and headed to his room. When he entered his eyes were quickly drawn to a light. The Marimo was up, looking at his own phone. When Sanji entered, Zoro whipped his head, looking quite surprised and confused, and a little bit out of it. After a second, he looked at his phone again.
“Do you know what hour it is? What are you doing awake?” Zoro asked, his eyes so narrowed they were almost closed. Sanji felt a blush crept from his neck to the tip of his nose and with three big steps got into his hammock.
“I was just doing a quick smoke” he hushed.
Zoro didn't say anything back. He turned off his phone and Sanji heard him moving into his hammock till there wasn't any sound in the room. His heart was beating so fast it almost hurt and he stayed looking at the ceiling longer than reasonable.