#Zoro x y/n

[fanzou]

It’s a Match!

✗ Pairing: Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader

✗ Summary: Lost in an annoying town full of annoying good-for-nothing people, Zoro seeks refuge in an odd looking tent, only to find that it belongs to the towns famous match-maker!

✗ Total WC: 7.0K

✗ CW: SMUT! Zoro is in fact an eater, Zoro in disguise? (Not really), Cunnilingus, P in V sex, Soft Zoro (just a lil bit), Most of this is just smut, ZORO UNMATCHED LIBIDO

✗ A/C: This was such a random thought in my head but I feel like I did so well executing it. I’m hoping you guys like it just as much as I liked writing it!

It’s so nice; The Sunny is really living up to its name right now. The fire-y orb in the sky makes his skin impossibly warmer and it feels wonderful. He rests his hands behind his head and his eyes are closed—both eyes.

Even the waters below don’t crash against the boat so harshly. It doesn’t rock the floating chunk of wood so much to the point that it’s unbearable to even rest as he is, like he wants to.

He doesn’t hear any bombarding voices or obnoxiously loud steps or bangs, not that he isn’t used to it, he’ll sleep right through it because he knows it’s just the ruckus and havoc caused by the usual three idiots doing constant idiotic stuff. But there isn’t any alarming or annoying commotion right now and it makes the peace all the more peaceful, if that was possible.

It’s almost too good to be true, he grunts before he has to involuntarily peel his one eye open and scope the scenery out so that he wasn’t missing any secret attack.

Okay…

Fine. Everything’s fine. And he slowly shuts his eye once more.

It’s not like this everyday and Zoro is eternally grateful for this peaceful afternoon.

And rest he does, in pure bliss with the sun shining off of his defined skin with no havoc to be wreaked and no cook to engage in annoying banter with.

For like… 5 minutes.

-

“Zoro! Get up!” Luffy calls, jumping up and down unavoidably disturbing what he yearned for most, “We’re here!”

Welp, all good things must come to an end right?

Even for the time it was, and he knew for a fact that it was still noon, the lights of the town that inhabited the land still somehow illuminated very brightly. A headache. He gets up finally to wake himself up just a little bit more and he looks around to see almost everyone gathered and ready for the next stop. “Zoro! You finally up?”

He stretches his muscles a bit and fixes his yukata as he does so, “Yeah…m’up.” He says, there’s a little tiredness in his voice.

And now as they near the inescapable flashy lights and overly-decorated scene, he feels even less willing to jump off board and continue his travels with the crew. They’ve talked about this place for the past two days, and none of it seemed intriguing in the way they had described it to be.

Nothing intriguing, and nothing worth mentioning the second they make their way back to the ship.

Which is why he’s more than willing to keep watch of it while they do their own little thing.

“You guys can take this one. M’just gonna stay on board for the time being.” He makes an attempt to walk away before Luffy’s already starting his complaints.

“But you can’t! You have to come, it’ll be fuuuuun! Zoroooooooo!” He yells, because when is Luffy ever not yelling, and grabs hold of his muscles from across the ship with his gum-gum powers.

It’s comedic, laughable. Luffy really is persistent, and it’ll surprise many to believe that his persistence is enough to persuade the big, bad swordsman.

“Usopp said that the food here is amazing! Please, you can’t miss out on this one, c’mon!”

It really is Luffy’s word over everything.

Which is why, unfortunately, he has to join them.

-

So much for his long-gone peace. He got lost somewhere along the way.

Straying away from the group after a liquor store caught his eye, the congested area stirred him far from everyone, and now he was here—just roaming. Sure he could’ve started his search back, but he wasn’t necessarily confident in his ability to do it given the many other circumstances he had… unfortunately, put himself through. So he put his faith in fate.

Don’t even get him started on how much livelier the place is too, how is this even a town? It’s small sure, but it’s so bright, it feels like he’s getting flash-banged anytime his eyes look anywhere but the floor. If he didn’t know any better he’d think this was some sort of grand city. But Zoro would be lying if he said that it wasn’t decent-looking at the very least, the streets littered with decorations from top to bottom with lanterns and glitter shining so brightly.

It wasn’t completely an eyesore, just maybe the people that inhabited the space, and the overdone style to it.

And in the grand scheme of things, there were perks to the obnoxiously crowded area, it did well to shield his public appearance so many would not recognize him. Nor would they care with the way they practically fixated on everything but.

Arrows pointing here, lights pointing there, it only gets worse when it starts getting dark, his exhaust long fades, replaced with an indescribable frustration. He feels his eye twitch every 2.5 seconds, brows furrowed while he clenches his teeth at the bombarding and invasive illuminating advertisements for shops and restaurants that are literally right there. In front of the store.

“Hey, handsome, need a massage? Ya look pretty tense!”

No thanks.

“Hot dogs! Hot dogs for only 100 berries!”

No thanks.

“Fun for him and her! Come to our store so you and your lady can have a great night together!”

No. Fuckin’. Thank you.

He shakes off the growing frustration that brews within him, his patience runs thin and everyone and everything around him is doing little to compensate. He’s mad that he decided to tag along, because it proved worthless in the end, he got lost and now he has to reap the consequences of this stupid fiasco that Luffy so eagerly dragged him along on.

He sighs, defeat evident in his breath. He tries relaxing his shoulders a bit and without the risk of losing his other eye from how blinding every single thing in his vision is right now; he scans the area to find at least somewhere he can ease his mind.

Something, anything. At this point.

And in little time he spots that something. Between two stores, the left store labeled “WAX-IT-OFF!”, and the right being “Grand Line Finance”. He snorts. The complete irony and comedy within the two differing stores humors him but it quickly subsides once he sees what confuses him; it’s an almost igloo-shaped tent. Hm, he says to himself. He naturally gravitates towards it, or unnaturally almost. It’s quite unlike him to let his curiosity get the better of him.

The tent is covered by a velvet fabric and there’s a purple-ish pink light coming from the inside, and for a tent—it’s quite large—fit to house at least 10 people at a time. He doesn’t notice it then but there’s a line that’s already formed, and he waltz’ right on ahead almost as if he owned the huge sphere covered in blankets itself, ignoring the complaints of the crowded line that had been apparently waiting there for quite a while, they express their verbal insults and trash-talk alike towards Zoro.

They don’t do much to hold him back, though.

When he reveals the other side of the curtain, eager to see just what had been waiting, it was far more relaxed, an almost seductive energy that welcomed him. One thing he did realize, was how much more quiet it had become. His once tense muscles immediately unclench at the tranquil setting around him. His hear pears left and right to find that it was just as predictable as the outside was, but that wasn’t to say he was disappointed, quite the opposite.

“Sir, are you next up?” He looks around to see where the voice comes from, and he’s a little confused. “Down here, ya big oaf!” His returned peacefulness is quickly disturbed.

He looks down and it’s a man half his size, he had a weird looking hat and glasses that didn’t let him see behind them. He has a badge that reads “RIO” in bold letters, what Zoro assumes to be his name.

“Are you here to see Lady match-maker or not? She doesn’t have much time to wait!” The man half his size grabs hold of his muscular hand and he just follows. He doesn’t know why. Doesn’t understand how. Typically if it were anything or any other circumstance he’d probably just get the hell out of there, but he doesn’t sense any kind of danger. Not when his only opponent is a 3-foot man and the inside of this new found tent was so comfy.

And—what did he say about a match-maker?

The odd looking fellow practically has to drag him full force across the room and to expose to Zoro another curtain.

Presumably what Zoro thinks might be, “the match-maker”.

He’s got a bad feeling about this, not the sort of enemy territory feeling but a cringy uncomfortable and dumb feeling.

The shorty speaks, “You have ten minutes.” He unveils the curtain and pushes Zoro, or, tries to push Zoro in, but he doesn’t actually step in unless it’s under his own volition because he’s so heavy. When he does; he drinks in the entire scene in front of him, somehow even more glittery fabrics and silky blankets draped across and on top of one another, a table smack dab in the center with someone behind it.

Lo and behold, you—the uh… the match… making—maker. Yeah.

The small guy leaves Zoro’s sight and leaves him under your supervision.

And God, are you beautiful. A lot like your enclosed environment you wore a seemingly large robe that covers a lot of the floor almost acting as a sheet itself. It’s nicely coated around your body, the only skin on you that isn’t modestly covered is your neck and cleavage area and he doesn’t necessarily make his roaming eyes a secret.

And when you speak, “Hello, you can take a seat anywhere.” Your voice is smooth, and the more he takes you in is the more he falls into a sort of hypnosis. You giggle at the tension so prominently visible in his figure, “No need to be shy. Take a seat anywhere.

He snaps out of the trance you didn’t even know you put him in, or maybe you did. Who knows, he sits across from you with his legs crossed into each other and his hands laid onto his lap with a posture that you almost envy, you appreciate his formality.

And he’s just thinking about how amazing it would probably be to fall asleep in here, possibly with you.

It’s at this point that Zoro realizes that he hasn’t talked the whole time, but he makes little effort for his lack of speech until it’s you who breaks the silence.

“First, your name?”

He prepares his voice with a clearing of his throat, “Zo—” Oh wait, shit. He mentally face palms, but is quick to recollect himself. He quickly comes up with a name as a means to cover-up his true identity.

“Zorayo.”

Your brows furrow like you don’t buy it and his heart stops for the slightest second. “Zorayo?”

He feels so awkward right now. “Yeah… Zorayo.”

“Mmm, that sounds a lot like that infamous pirate-hunter… what was his name? Rorono… Roroyoa?” You think long and hard, “Roronoa Zoro!”

He clears his throat with an eye anywhere but yours. “Uh, yeah. I get that. A lot.” With a slight nod.

You scribble something down in your notes, he assumes to be his half-ass attempt at a name. He really hopes he’s not red, because everything about this is just plain embarrassing. If what he assumes about you being a “match-maker” is true and if anyone on the crew saw him coming out of this place, he doesn’t think he’d hear the end of it.

“You don’t happen to be a pirate yourself, do you?” At this, he tenses once again, “You’ve got the look.” He’s a bit taken aback, but as he scans your face for some sort of discomfort or distress, he’s even more surprised at how okay you are with the fact.

You’re not looking at him, instead you’re scribbling something down. You have been this whole time, hardly looking at him.

Yet somehow, the next words to come out of your mouth are, “I find it difficult to believe that you’re really here for match-making, Zorayo.” You drop your pen and rest your chin on both your hands, “What really brings you?”

He grunts, closes his eyes, and inhales. He’s trying to formulate up a lie, but it’s hard when you’re so beautiful. Your eyes are staring into his soul, he’s never seen anything like it. “No, I am. My friends… said that I needed to find a woman. B-But really I just wanna get laid.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d say his answer disappointed you a bit. “Y’know, if that’s an option.” Your hands come down and grip the pen once more to write down a few notes, and he can’t help from tapping on his knee a little bit now. His answer was shallow, desperate, and far from him, and he doesn’t understand why it bothered him to care about how you perceived it.

You let a silence linger for a bit as you bring the pen to your lips and tap it a few times, “What’s your ideal type?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “S’what I’m trying to figure out, woman.” He snorts, and your face returns with an almost bothered look.

You roll your eyes and rest the metal pen down harshly, “Do you actually wanna get ‘laid’?” You ask him almost rhetorically and using his vulgarities against him, “Then don’t be a smart ass.” You mumble under your breath, God, you pirates.

Once again, he’s taken aback by the sheer bluntness in your claim, and he’s almost offended. He gulps, he’s not nervous. Can’t be.

“Why do you assume I’m a pirate?” He exclaims in genuine confusion. “Look at you!” To emphasize your claim you extend your hand in reference to the big muscular and scarred man, “And besides, you’re not the only one who’s ever come to me for my assistance.”

He almost wants to mirror your previous eye roll, assistance?

Almost sounds like he’s having trouble getting his dick wet.

And, well—It looks that way, and he wants to crawl in a hole, anyone other than the one he was kinda already in, because of how utterly shameful this is to him.

Thankfully or not-so-thankfully you break the silence, “You have 6 minutes on the clock, mister. Better make it worth while.”

If he were being honest, all he wanted to do was just rest across the shiny blankets that littered the entire place, even if it meant he had to threaten everyone outside in line in order to get it. And he curses himself for getting into this predicament.

Speaking of outside, he did not want to go back anytime soon. The disgusting, flashy and flamboyant, utterly obnoxious, did he mention disgusting?—Outside.

Well, here goes nothing.

Zoro thinks on his response for you, he wants to make it so that it gives you at least something to work with, but not so much that it sounds tender or anything like that.

“I like women who know what they’re about. Not the shy type. I like ‘em when they can fend for themselves.” He nods in confirmation, satisfied with his own proclamation.

And you seem to be as well. There it is. Now we’re talkin’.

You scribble down on your notes once again, more impressed and relaxed by his revelation, it’s not much but it’s progress. “Anything… physical?”

“Mmm… physical?” He pans his vision from the soft scenery to you, “not… not necessarily.” He’s back to ogling you again.

You scribble, “Okay, Zorayo… You don’t like short hair? Long hair?”

You’re not met with a response, and when you look up, Zoro is still there, just with his unwavering gaze set on you, or more accurately—gaze fixed on your body, like he’s checking you out.

“Zorayo?”

He shakes his head as if to shake away unwanted thoughts. “Oh— Um. No. Yes. I mean, listen, S’long as she’s not ugly.”

Ugh, where have I heard that a gazillion times before.

Men.

“How am I supposed to identify that if you won’t tell me what you find physically attractive?!” The tip of your fingers are white from your grip.

Clients are difficult, clients are stubborn, and it’s not like you haven’t come across a guy like this once in a while, but you’d be damned if you didn’t admit that it was annoying as hell every. Single. Time.

You breathe, “Zorayo, full transparency.” You place your fingers on your chest to mark sincerity, your tone is softer. “I think you are attractive, I believe you’ll find no trouble in getting a girl in that department. I sense that you don’t often make the first move, and because of your naturally intimidating nature, it’s like a double-edged sword. Women won’t approach you.” You empathetically state. He just listens.

You ponder on your next word-choice as to not offend him if you had already, “it’s only difficult because you make it difficult. I assure you, you would have girls falling at your feet if you were just a little more… giving?” You finish with hope that he understands your meaning.

You can tell he absorbs your words a bit, and it’s definitely progress from where you started. You rest your shoulders in a bit of relief to find that he finally might seek that inner peace and comprehension, understanding maybe why he might be feeling so defeated in the romance department. You weren’t a match-maker for nothing, right?

He puts his finger on his chin, and the smallest tiniest smile graces his face.

“Well f’thats the case, why don’t you just sleep with me?”

“That’s great, Zo—Huh?” Your eyes are shot wide open, and you look at him in pure disbelief. What the hell is wrong with this guy? “How could you even suggest something so inconsiderate and vulgar? I have clients that are patiently waiting outside!”

He snorts, “They can always wait.” His smirk gets wider, his eyes a little darker. You gasp, or scoff—you don’t know what it is. You’re so blown away by the fact that he’d request something so dirty and scandalous. “Don’t you know who I am? I’m not one for the taking, idiot! I am the match-maker, not the matched.”

He becomes more relaxed in his posture, his hands are grounded to the floor behind him to act as balance, “Is it against the rules or somethin’? Like ya can’t get fucked?”

Oh, he’s getting so much more vulgar, and… for some reason, it’s… turning you on a bit. And he looks unbothered, almost bored at your fit. You’re red, you’re red all over. It’s bad. This is bad for you. Usually you’re not the flustered one, and sure clients will come in with their occasional flirting and advances. But this?

This is too advance.

“Zo… Zorayo—I can’t possibly…” you close your eyes as you look away from him and shamefully pull your face away from his direction. But he’s not hearing a no, which is something he’d assume you would have verbally expressed by now. And… sure. He was attractive, very visibly, audibly… verbally so. It’s not something you lied about with clients, which is why you were not sold on the fact that he needed any help finding the perfect woman for he in fact, was sculpted by the Gods themselves.

He takes it upon himself to get up, walk over to your side while you wallow in your state of shamefulness and whatever it is that you’re so worked up about. He’s slow in his movement, calculated to see how you’d react if he got anymore closer to you to ensure that what he was about to do wasn’t one-sided and you weren’t actually against the concept.

He kneels at your side and his hand finds its way to your lap, you yelp a bit at the sudden contact. You’re so ashamed right now, so red.

Then it dawns on him, you poor thing. He smiles sadistically. It hits so quickly by the way you react at his physical advance, that you yourself are not being taken care of. The woman who has set up many couples for life? The woman who has brought people to fate and great happiness? But herself? The smile on his face grows a little bit wider, and his hand snakes to your chin, an attempt that you almost melt into too easily. He gets closer to your face. You’re finally looking at him, and he waits for the green light.

“I’ll… I’ll tell Rio to close up for the n-night.”

He’s satisfied, “Good girl.”

You drag your knees across the covered floor as you make your way to the covers, your hands are shaking—with excitement or anxiety, maybe both. You don’t know. You fix yourself, pull the covers in hopes of only revealing your own flushed face and there he was, patiently waiting for your signature cue.

“Rio, there’s a bit of an issue.”

The short man immediately responds, “What is it, my lady?” He sounds a little alarmed so you assure, “I’ll have to reject my services for the rest of the night…”

“T-This one’s… a special case.” You feign a soft smile.

He seems confused a tad, because there’s never an instance where you’ve felt the desire to put such an abrupt stop to your services. A special case? That makes him visibly more confused, but he’s confident in your skill and trusts that you understand what you’re doing. “Understood, Miss. I’ll leave you to it while I fight off those desperate dogs outside.” He laughs at his joke and turns his back to you. You manage a small thank you.

You were confident in his ability in doing so, though he be small he was quite fierce. When the coast was clear and you hear your assistants muffled yells to the stubborn customers, you slowly cover back the space leaving you to the muscled beast, alone once again.

You turn to him, “I’m just letting you know that I haven’t had sex in a while, so you’re gonna need to prep me.” You make work of the robe that’s snug tightly around your waist.

He scoffs, as if offended by your request, “‘Thout question.”

You furrow your brows, “Don’t get cocky on me now, it’s you who needs to get laid.” And you instantly regret the words that come out of your mouth, because now he’s giving you daggers for eyes. He gestures you over nonetheless, and you crawl over to him with no question, now it’s as if you’re entranced by the green-haired man, he’s handsome—beautiful almost, it doesn’t take much will-power to follow his fingers that beckon you over.

“A-And, you can’t be too rough.”

“That’s fine.”

“—And we stop when I say so.” He nods in respect, huh, easier than you thought.

After the knot of your robe was undone, and it feels like it was forever til you got it, you reveal a loose and simple dress underneath and he doesn’t exactly make his appeal towards you discreet.

But it dawns on you, because you haven’t done this in what feels like an eternity that you literally don’t know what to do, let alone with someone so… large?

“How do you wanna…” you gulp and pick at your nails in nervousness.

“Jeez, woman. You a virgin or somethin’?” Well, right now you might as well be. He gets up from his seated position and stands on his knees, “Lay down on the table.”

It’s probably for the better that he’s in control of everything you both do, you’ve already laid out the ground rules of what he can or can’t do, and it’s only really up from here. You do as he instructs, not too eagerly, not too anxiously and you can say that you were satisfied with the way you carried yourself thus far. You just really really hope he can’t tell that you need this as much as he might.

You sit on your little table, and he’s kneeling in front of you.

He’s impossibly bigger.

He grabs ahold of your thighs, almost letting his fingers dip underneath the fabric of your short dress and you shiver in immediate reaction. His hands are so warm, and you can’t help but put your smaller one on top of his.

He takes it as a sign to let his face come closer to yours, and you could almost call him a romantic; the way he tilts his head and his eye is half-shut, he leans in almost too slow for your liking, but his lips meet yours anyways. He almost made you feel like you had to earn it.

When your lips touched, it takes you by surprise to learn that they’re much softer than they look, and he’s skilled—he comes closer, his fingers glide up to your hips and underneath your last piece of large coverage, he grips a little tighter but not uncomfortably so, and his tongue swipes across your lip almost as if to ask for permission to enter.

—And enter it does, you whimper pathetically into his attack and it’s getting very hot. Be it his body temperature or how much you’ve moved within the past 5 minutes within such a tight space, it’s inevitably warmer in your familiar environment. You wonder, is he this good at everything?

Only one way to find out.

“Lie down on your back.” He commands as he pulls away, and you oblige. On your back you get a better look at his figure that looks like it’s about to eat you alive. It’s technically what you want right now, anyway. He hooks his thick finger into your panties and pulls them down. For the first time you hear a satisfied grunt leave his mouth, he’s been damn near non-verbal this entire time so it feels like a little prize when he does.

He throws your undergarment to the side but never strips his stare away from you, “This all for me?” That smirk returns, he takes his middle finger and starts pressing it up and down your cunt that draws another whimper out of you. You think he’s referencing the wetness, and it’s kind of embarrassing.

He laughs at your sudden inability to talk back.

“J-Just get it over with.” You say, you don’t realize it until then but you’re gripping the edge of the table almost like you’re bracing for some sort of impact, perhaps you were just that nervous, would he really be gentle like he promised? He looks down at you, and your body immediately softens, he doesn’t look so mean or aggressive at this moment.

He glides his hands up to the back of your knees and presses them impossibly up to your chest and it confuses you for a split second. He dips down immediately and flattens his tongue almost down from your asshole and all the way up to your clit. Your body flinches a bit and you seethe.

Just when you thought he might have been setting the pace nice and sensually slow, he immediately goes to town, sucking and licking at your pussy like a man starved. You whimper his fake name.

He cringes at the name a little bit, but it instantly subsides when he realizes just how good your cunt tastes. He makes quick work of adding a finger inside whilst his tongue continues a nice attack on your clit. You’re in another dimension at this point. This position was so vulnerable, so open and you now understand why he decided that it was best to start like this.

Another finger joins in, and the way your pussy sounds is pornographic—his bulge grows impossibly bigger and he catches himself from moaning as a blanket softly touches his sensitive area. He’s enjoying this way more than he thought he would. As a matter of fact, Zoro forgets why he was even here in the first place, not that he cares but—wow, what a prize you were. If getting lost meant this was what welcomed him on the other side every time, he’d have to try it a lot more.

You’re gone, understandably so. “It’s—soooo goood, mmmm…” you curse and whine at his fast pace, “‘Think m’gonna—!”

And like manifestation you cum, it hits so much harder than you think it will and the come-down is so much slower than you anticipated.

His fingers and tongue fuck you through it but not unbearably, he pulls his fingers out and glides them up and down your slit as he watches your face contort into a feeling of indescribable satisfaction. He lets you come down from your amazing high before he’s bringing your body closer to him by a latch of your hips, “That feel good baby?” He says in a husky voice, kissing up and down your neck and all you can manage is a whiny mhm! before he’s pulling off his yukata and leaving you speechless.

You softly moan at his bare physique, the little window of his chest doesn’t do it any justice—it’s much better than you expected it to be, much larger too and his cock is damn near screaming to come out just by the looks of it stretching the material out.

You pick yourself up with all the strength from your arms and try to get your dress off, and he watches you struggle for a moment before, “Here, let me—” and in little effort, he pulls it over your head.

He looks you up and down, and it goes straight to your throbbing cunt once again. “Fuck, you’re gonna drive me crazy.” You lay down again but this time pushing yourself up just a little bit by your elbows, just to get a glance at the action.

“You want me to take care of you, doll? Huh?” Zoro pulls his own undergarments down, revealing what you’ve been aching for this entire time. “A shame, no one thought to ever take your feelings into consideration.” He gives himself a few strokes as he lines himself up, then slowly pushes into you. He sighs at the stretch, and the way it slowly and surely disappears into you. “Takin’ it so fuckin’ well. Just like you should.”

Your eyebrows instantly smash together with your mouth hanging open, eyes squinted just the perfect amount. Zoro groans, “You’re so fuckin’ tight, hm? You want me to keep going?”

“Y-es, yes please! Need it bad!”

And since you asked so nicely, he gives a little push in and out, it makes you moan so desperately that one of your hands clenches within itself from how shameful the nature of it truly was.

And you’re so sure that even with the unnecessary amount of coverage the tent has, someone’s probably heard you if they were close enough. You should be ashamed of yourself; getting slutted out like you were some sort of cock-sleeve. No man has ever made you feel this full, so anyone curious enough to get up close was just gonna have to put up with how much of a whore you sounded like right now.

He picks up his pace and it’s not relentlessly fast or painfully slow, it was just right and you think you might be on Cloud 9 with the way the thing glides in and out of your once neglected cunt.

“Tell me how much you like it, doll.” His head is tilted and his gaze is marked with nothing but lust.

“It feels s-so… so good. Feels like nothing I ever felt before— fuck!” You grab hold of the edge of the table and any loose blanket in close proximity. ��More, please! More Zorayo!” And he was so lost in his own pleasure that he’s long forgotten about that dumb name he decided to give you.

“J…Just call me Zoro.” He says breathlessly, pace never faltering.

Well, must’ve been as good a time as any to have told you that, because you really didn’t seem to care, maybe too cock-drunk to even think about it enough. And honestly Zoro himself doesn’t either, with the way your tits bounce with every time he pounds into you, you look like you’re in another world and he’s soon to join you.

You’re moaning, then it turns into soft little cries and whimpers and that’s when Zoro knows that you’re on close approach.

“Let it out, baby. Like that.” His own thrusts are a little sloppy and he’s watching your every expression with close examination. “Juuust like that, s-shit.” The way he talks you through it, his grip on your skin and the skin-ship itself—it’s so much, it pushes you over the edge. With a cry of his actual name this time, which sounds so much better and allows him to relish in his own bliss fully, you cum, and it’s even better than the last.

Your body shakes with every thrust that goes in and out, in and out while Zoro chases his own high, his body shivers a little bit and he finally pulls out when he knows the exact moment he might accidentally fuck his release into you. He pushes your legs coated with slick tightly together, then starts to thrust into your thighs, the scene is disgustingly lewd; he’s using you to get off with your own body but oh well, he’s not pushing his seed inside of you and that’s what counts.

He paints your stomach with all different kinds of strokes and you’re a living breathing mess, there’s so many fluids coating your body that you can hardly tell which is which aside from the one on your stomach, you’re tired to say the least. But you’re still aching.

You’re aching for him, in specific. It’s not enough, and after tonight you don’t think it’ll ever be enough, he’s too good. Too skilled for his own good and you can’t stop wanting him. “Zoro, *breath* n-need *breath* more.” You manage to say as you try leveling yourself. “Need more of your cock, ple—ase!”

And all you had to do was ask.

He picks you up a little and off the table with your assistance, grounding your body on the floor next to it, that way Zoro can get in a more intimate position he’d hoped for all along. His body on yours, in whatever way you’ll allow him to take you. It sounds like a dream.

You claw at his bicep while he hovers over you, and it feels like he hasn’t kissed you in forever. He comes down to meet your lips once again, shaft in hand and again, lining himself up. Only this time as a warning Zoro rubs himself up and down before entering you with a slow push. You manage a “Mmmfffhh!” At the intrusion, but you welcome it anyways. He starts his pace like the last.

There’s something different about it though, it might be the intimacy and just how close you guys seem to be this time around, you’re wrapping yourself around him like he was your life-line. You have your hands tight around his shoulders with your legs hanging off his hips for support while they rock into you with much force to accompany it.

He’s just as gone as you are, his cock is hitting you in the deepest places he couldn’t have imagined. “You’re… so good for me, s’like you’re mine. Letting me fuck you like th—is.” He says with a groan following suit, “You like getting spoiled like this, baby?”

Your eyes are shut tight and you’re dizzy, “Mhm! O—Only by you! J-Just by you Zoro!”

Now it might’ve been the heat of the room, but you feel so impossibly wet, all over. And it’s proven in the way that the blankets surrounding you are slowly getting drenched with your sweat amongst many other things, you’re a bit ashamed for a second, you wonder how you’ll clean it up.

That thought gets thrown out the window the faster it comes in through it, Zoro hits a spot you were all too familiar with and you cry out. “Oooooooh… fuck… yesyesyesyesyes—” You chant his name like your life depended on it, and he feels like he could just explode right then. He’s so enamored by you, the way your sweat accentuated every beautiful thing about you and it sends him into overdrive, he promised not to get rough but it’s impossible. His hips are automatic in that sense, he just wants to ruin you.

You don’t seem to mind the change in pace, how rough he fucks you, though. “Y-Yes, like that, don’t. Fucking. Stop.” You welcome it if anything.

He laughs at your change of heart, “M…not planning to, doll.”

And almost as if you’re trying to choke around him, it’s dangerously tight, and with every thrust it feels almost impossible going back in—it’s like he can’t imagine that this feels good for you but your face truly begs to differ. You stare at him with so much desire in your eyes and your body naturally pleads for more, bucking hips and arms like you never wanna let go. Zoro doesn’t even remember what drove him to come here in the first place, but he can’t imagine a better outcome—a doll like you, sweet and willing to let him fuck you in any position he wished. God, he almost wants to steal you away from this loser town and have you all to himself.

He feels himself dangerously closer this time, all the more sensitive. And without your audible declarations, he thinks he might cum before you.

He brings his thumb to your clit and starts his circular motion before coming down to kiss you gently, muffling your sweet sounds while you wrap your hands around his neck. Everything about this screams intimate, if it wasn’t for how rough he’d have been going you would have thought he was making love to you.

You gasp for air as your orgasm quickly reigns down on you for the third time, his strokes are a little bit sloppier and he’s instantly pulling out to once again; cumming on your stomach.

It’s quiet for a while save for the sighs and heavy breaths that leave both your throats, he’s leaning back off of his heel to get a good look at you after damn near ravaging you. He’s content, but he genuinely believes he could go for another couple more rounds. Your laid on your side, eyes closed and relaxed.

Zoro turns you back onto your position before and takes a nearby piece of cloth that is to no surprise nearby, to wipe off your stomach, “Bailin’ on me already?” He says, it’s playful but he’s as a serious as you’ll let him be. He’s still half hard and he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop anytime soon.

“How many rounds can you go, you beast?” You ask trying to sit up off of your elbows once again.

“Bout as many as you can take.”

-

And take you do, the brute man fucks you through all the rest of the continuous rounds. Slow, hard, soft—just when you think you might not be able to withstand the next one, all it takes is a glance at his hungry eyes and you’re back under his wrath, it’s pathetic almost and you should be ashamed, but it feels euphoric.

You realize about half-way through it all that you’re not fucking just anyone, but the Roronoa Zoro. The man with a billion dollar bounty on his head. It should make you stop. Shouldn’t it? You should put an end to this scandal before someone finds you out, the second it dawns on you.

And you’ll take it to the grave; the truth is that it made you so much more hungrier for him. You, a mere civilian amongst a no-name town that many along the Grand Line used as a means to kick their feet up and relax, so small and irrelevant… are fucking one of the most dangerous men across the 4 seas?

Why, it was nothing but fuel to you. To go harder, faster, just for him. Just to impress him and make him feel like you were the only one for him.

The last round is when he ruthlessly suggests that you ride his dick, you could tell that he was getting off on the idea of you being so desperate for his cock and trying to muster up any will-power to drag yourself up and down. It was comedic really, you were crying, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop even though your thighs were so painfully sore. It almost felt like a drug.

Along the way he decides that he’s bored with the theatrics and pulls you down just to fuck up into you. And the way you came just felt as good as the last. You pulled off of him and rubbed your slit onto his shaft while he came as well.

Now with him sprawled against the bedded floor with him on top of you, it’s boiling in the room now, you might even slide off of him because of how wet you both are. Lewd, dirty, disgusting. But if no one’s outside with pitchforks and fire the way you chanted his unmistakable name, you’d say you weren’t too loud. Maybe.

“So, d’you think I found my match?” He says, and you can’t help the laugh that erupts from you.

“Not yet.” You lay your head against his wet chest, “You’re gonna have to keep looking. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

His chest vibrates against your head with a big hum, “Not worth my while, not as good a fish as you.”

[2b4st4r]

Hey there! How are you?I’m not sure if you’re taking requests, but I wanted to throw an idea your way.What if, during a fight while escaping from an island, you almost died—and that moment awakened some hidden feelings in Zoro?Even though everyone around could see those feelings, he’d try to distance himself, hoping they’d fade.But at the same time, he’d start training you hard, pushing you to get stronger so he’d never feel that scared again.And then... during one of those training sessions, things start to heat up.If you know what I mean...

A Quartermasters Heart

Zoro x reader

Words:13,575

Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence and injury, emotional distress, explicit sexual acts, face-fucking, angst, SMUT WARNING

!!SMUT!!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

The biting salt spray of the Grand Line was a familiar comfort against your cheeks, the rhythmic creak of the Thousand Sunny a lullaby you knew by heart. From your usual vantage point near the helm, a subtle smile played on your lips as you observed your eccentric family. You were the quiet anchor of the Straw Hats, their Quartermaster and a formidable fighter, though your battles were rarely fought on the front lines. That was the nature of the Chishin Chishin no Mi, the Mind-Mind Fruit, its power a mental ballet of influence and control that kept you in the background, a puppeteer pulling strings from the shadows.

A quick glance confirmed your mental inventory: Chopper was happily munching on the last of the candied chestnuts you'd slipped him earlier; Nami was hunched over a new chart, her inkwell glistening with the fresh supply you’d restocked; Zoro, as always, was polishing Wado Ichimonji with the specialized cloth you’d acquired for him, his intense focus a familiar sight; Sanji was a blur of motion in the galley, the glint of his newly sharpened knives a testament to your recent procurement; Brook's melancholic tunes drifted from the deck, his bow perfectly rosined from your latest find; and Usopp was meticulously sorting through a new batch of satchels, perfect for his chemical concoctions. Even Luffy’s beloved straw hat, perpetually abused, bore the subtle, neat stitching of your recent repairs. Robin was engrossed in a particularly old tome you’d unearthed on a recent island, and Jinbe was calmly tending to some rigging, your earlier offer of assistance still lingering in the air between you.

You were, simply put, kind. It was your defining trait, a gentle current beneath the waves of adventure. You saw the small needs, the quiet desires, and you moved to meet them, a silent, steady hand in the chaos. Every Straw Hat knew it, felt it, relied on it. And perhaps none more so than Zoro. His eyes, usually half-lidded and distant, held a surprising acuity when they landed on you. It was rare that his gaze wasn’t somewhere in your vicinity, a silent sentinel. And right now, as the tranquility of the open sea was shattered by the jarring boom of cannon fire, was one of those moments.

"Marines!" Usopp shrieked, his usual bravado dissolving into panic.

The ambush was swift, almost too swift. A massive Marine ship, cloaked in some sort of shimmering distortion, had materialized from the horizon. Its captain, a hulking figure on the bow, possessed a Devil Fruit power that immediately made itself known. It was the Fushoku Fushoku no Mi, the Corrosion-Corrosion Fruit. The air around him shimmered, and anything he touched, anything his corrosive aura extended to, began to break down, to crumble, to simply cease to exist. It should have been easy. It should have been. The Straw Hats were a force of nature, but this insidious power was making everything difficult.

Luffy’s rubbery punches, usually devastating, were dissolving mid-air, the impact absorbed and dissipated by the captain’s corrosive field before they could even connect. Zoro’s slashes, usually precise and powerful, seemed to lose their edge, the very air around his blades weakening as he tried to cut through the captain’s defenses. Nami’s lightning bolts crackled and fizzled, her perfect storms struggling to manifest against the oppressive, disintegrating aura. Sanji’s fiery kicks left behind trails of smoke that quickly dissipated into nothingness, his powerful leg strikes simply unable to find purchase. Even Franky’s strong right, usually capable of smashing through anything, was met with a sickening decay as his robotic arm began to corrode. Brook’s soulful slashes seemed to lose their spiritual impact, his attacks becoming dull and harmless. Chopper, in Monster Point, roared with frustration as his fur began to shed and his hooves chipped away with every contact. Robin's limbs, usually appearing out of nowhere with lethal grace, were dissolving into nothingness the moment they formed within the captain's corrosive reach. Jinbe, a master of Fish-Man Karate, found his powerful water attacks evaporating into mist before they could strike, the sheer force of his blows negated by the captain's all-consuming power.

The deck of the Sunny itself was groaning, planks flaking away into dust. Every blow, every attack, every defensive maneuver was being negated, weakened, or outright destroyed. Everyone was struggling, pushed back by an unseen force that ate away at their very being. Your eyes, constantly assessing, constantly calculating, flickered between your crewmates, searching for an opening, a weakness, a way to turn the tide. You were rarely on the front lines, but your mind was always, always paying attention.

The cacophony of battle raged around you, a blur of dissolving steel and desperate shouts. Everyone was so focused, so consumed by the struggle against the Corrosion-Corrosion Fruit, that the usual rhythm of the Straw Hats’ fighting was shattered. You, the quiet orchestrator, found yourself forced to the front lines, a position you rarely occupied. It wasn't that you couldn't handle it; with a mere touch to your forehead, you could send a wave of mental influence, forcing a Marine to pass out or a lesser foe to simply drop their weapon. But using your Chishin Chishin no Mi in such rapid succession, against so many, was exhausting. A dull throb, the precursor to a full-blown migraine, began to bloom behind your eyes.

No one noticed your increasing strain. Their attention was consumed, their energy focused on self-preservation, or at least, attempting to stay intact. Luffy roared, trying to land a blow that dissolved into nothingness. Zoro gritted his teeth, his blades sparking and fading against the corrosive air. Nami cursed, her carefully crafted weather eggs disintegrating before they could unleash their fury.

It happened in a second. Just a second.

The Marine captain, his hand outstretched, a swirling vortex of decay around his fingertips, lunged towards Chopper. The little reindeer, in his Heavy Point, let out a terrified cry as the corrosive aura rippled closer, threatening to consume him. There was no time to process, no time to even think. You instinctively reached for your own head, a single finger poised for your usual technique, but the distance, the speed, the sheer immediacy of the threat… it was too late.

There was only one option.

Without a moment's hesitation, you lunged, propelling yourself forward with desperate force. You threw yourself directly between the captain and Chopper, a human shield made of flesh and bone. All five fingers pressed hard against your temples, a desperate, last-ditch effort to unleash the full, concentrated power of your Chishin Chishin no Mi. You tried to stop the captain’s horrifying abilities before they could even touch you, to turn his own power against him, to simply erase his will to attack.

But it was too late.

The captain’s hand, wreathed in that sickening, destructive aura, brushed against your arm. A searing pain erupted, as if countless needles were pricking your skin, followed by a horrifying sensation of something fundamental being stripped away. You felt it, the corrosive power seeping into your very being, trying to break you down, to erase you.

Still, you pushed. With every ounce of your will, even as the pain threatened to consume you, you focused the full force of your Chishin Chishin no Mi into one desperate wave, a mental tsunami aimed directly at the captain. You stopped it just a bit. Just a bit. That infinitesimally small fraction of a second, that tiny sliver of resistance against the overwhelming power, was enough. Enough for a chance. A chance that it wouldn't kill you.

The world tilted, and a gasp tore from your throat as the captain's corrosive touch seared into your arm. The pain was immediate, a thousand tiny teeth gnawing at your flesh, and a horrifying sensation of disintegration spread from the point of contact. Your skin, once smooth and resilient, began to flake, a terrifyingly rapid decay.

"Y/N!"

It was Chopper's voice, high-pitched with terror, that pierced the chaotic din of battle. He’d seen it, the sacrifice, the terrible price you'd paid. The pure, unadulterated fear in his cry rippled through the crew, shattering their singular focus on their own struggles.

Luffy, who moments before had been relentlessly assaulting the corrosive aura, his rubbery fists dissolving into nothingness, stopped. His eyes, usually alight with an unshakeable confidence, widened in raw horror as he watched you crumple. A growl, primal and dangerous, rumbled in his chest, and his next punch, fueled by a terrifying surge of rage, connected with the captain's face with a force that sent ripples through the very air. The Marine captain, caught off guard by the sheer, unexpected ferocity, sailed through the air and plunged into the tumultuous waves below.

Zoro, who had been locked in a desperate, blade-to-corrosion struggle with a particularly tenacious Marine officer, felt an icy dread grip his heart the moment he heard Chopper’s scream. His head snapped towards you, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Your collapsing form, the flaking skin—it was a sight that tore through his usual stoicism. With a guttural roar, he brought down Wado Ichimonji in a blindingly fast, deadly slash, a desperate act of finality that ended the Marine he was fighting in a sickening thwack.

He didn’t even glance at the fallen foe. Zoro was already moving, a dark blur across the deck, his swords sheathed with a definitive click. He dropped to his knees beside you, catching you just before you hit the splintering deck. He cradled you gently, his large hands surprisingly tender as he pulled you close, his gaze sweeping over your face, then frantically searching for the point of contact on your arm.

"Y/N! What did he do?!" His voice was rough, laced with a fear that rarely touched him. His fingers brushed against your arm, and he recoiled slightly as more flakes of skin crumbled under his touch.

Nami, seeing you fall, felt a wave of nausea. She stared, wide-eyed, at your deteriorating skin, a silent scream caught in her throat. Her Clima-Tact, forgotten, slipped from her numb fingers, clattering uselessly on the deck. "No... no, Y/N!" she whispered, her voice barely audible over the roaring wind and crashing waves.

Sanji, mid-kick, froze. His fiery leg hung in the air, his usual flirtatious bravado replaced by a look of sheer, cold fury. His eyes darted from you to the spot where the captain had been, a chilling promise of retribution in their depths.

Usopp, huddled behind a shattered crate, peeking out, watched with a gaping mouth as you collapsed. His eyes welled up, and he let out a choked sob. "Y/N! Don't you dare!"

Robin's calm demeanor fractured. Her usually composed features tightened with concern as she saw your weakened form. She instinctively reached out a hand, though she couldn't reach you, a look of profound worry etched on her face.

Franky, his cybernetic body scarred and dented from the corrosive attacks, stared at your prone figure. "Super... Y/N..." he muttered, his voice unusually subdued, devoid of its usual bombastic energy.

Brook's ever-present smile faltered. His eyes, though only empty sockets, conveyed a deep sadness. He raised his violin, a mournful, drawn-out note echoing across the ship, a somber testament to the sudden despair.

Jinbe, though still getting to know you, felt a pang of deep regret. He'd seen your quiet kindness, your unassuming strength. He moved, his powerful frame cutting through the remaining Marines with grim efficiency, clearing a path toward you.

The air thrummed with unspoken panic, a silent understanding passing between the Straw Hats. Their quartermaster, their kind, gentle Y/N, the one who always patched them up, was hurt. Badly.

Your body was a dead weight in Zoro’s arms, your head lolling against his shoulder. The horrifying flaking of your skin continued, a stark visual of the corrosive power that had touched you. He pulled you tighter against him, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear with a hand that trembled almost imperceptibly.

"Y/N," he murmured, his voice a low, rough plea. "Wake up. Hey. C’mon. This ain't funny." He rocked you gently, a desperate attempt to stir some sign of life. "Open your eyes. You hear me? Just... just open your eyes."

Chopper, his small face contorted with intense concentration and a deep, aching fear, reached you, his tiny hooves surprisingly steady as he pressed them to your neck. He searched frantically for your pulse, his brow furrowing with every passing second. Finally, a faint tremor.

"Her pulse… it’s there," he whispered, a sliver of relief cutting through his terror, "but it's barely there! Zoro, gently, lay her down flat. We need to check her over properly."

Zoro’s grip on you tightened for a moment, his jaw clenching. He was clearly panicked, a rare sight for the usually unflappable swordsman, but he complied, carefully easing you from his arms to the deck, arranging you straight and still.

Luffy was beside you in an instant, his earlier rage dissolving into a raw, childish fear. He knelt, his eyes wide and brimming. "Y/N! Chopper, fix her! Please! She's... she's flaking!"

Nami gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. "Her skin… it’s getting worse!" Her voice was hoarse with distress. "What do we do, Chopper?!"

Sanji approached, his face grim, a lit cigarette dangling forgotten from his lips. He watched Chopper work with an intensity that bordered on furious helplessness. "Doctor-kun, can you... can you stop it?"

Usopp sniffled, rubbing his eyes. "Don't die, Y/N! We... we need you! Who's gonna fix Luffy's hat?!" His attempt at a joke was swallowed by a choked sob.

Robin knelt opposite Zoro, her expression serene but her eyes filled with a deep concern. "Chopper, is there anything we can do to counteract the Devil Fruit's effect?" she asked, her voice calm amidst the growing panic.

Franky slammed a fist against his metallic thigh, the sound echoing ominously. "This is super un-cool! Captain, what was that guy's power?!"

Brook's spectral gaze was fixed on you. "Y/N-san… to think such a kind soul could be touched by such a cruel power. Yohohoho... I pray for her recovery."

Jinbe stood over you, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "That Corrosion-Corrosion Fruit is insidious. It doesn't just destroy, it unravels. We must find a way to contain this."

The Thousand Sunny, usually a beacon of laughter and adventure, was suddenly quiet, save for Chopper’s frantic movements and the terrified whispers of the crew. All eyes were on you, their kind, selfless quartermaster, now lying still and vulnerable on the deck, caught in the terrifying grip of a power that threatened to consume you.

Chopper's tiny hooves moved with frantic precision, pressing against your chest, trying to assess the damage. He pulled out a small magnifying glass, examining your arm where the corrosive touch had landed, his brow furrowed in desperate concentration. The flaking, however, continued, a relentless erosion. He murmured to himself, a litany of medical terms mixed with panicked whimpers, his little mind racing for a solution to an unprecedented problem.

Then, he froze. His ears twitched, straining for a sound that wasn't there. He pressed his ear to your chest, his fur bristling.

"No... No, no, no!" he shrieked, his voice cracking. "Her heart! It's stopped! She's not breathing!"

The words ripped through the already tense silence on deck like a thunderclap. Your chest, which had been rising and falling faintly, was now utterly still.

"Y/N!" Luffy’s voice was a guttural roar of pure agony.

Zoro, who had been kneeling beside you, watching Chopper with bated breath, felt a cold dread grip him, tighter than any vice. His Y/N. The kind, gentle hand that stitched Luffy’s hat, the thoughtful gaze that always noticed the small things, the quiet strength that kept them grounded. This was his Y/N, lifeless and crumbling in front of him. His breath hitched, and for the first time in years, a tremor of true, unadulterated panic shook him to his core. His hand instinctively reached for your still face, his fingers brushing against the cold, flaking skin.

"Chopper! Do something!" Zoro's voice was raw, stripped bare of its usual composure, laced with a desperate plea.

Chopper, tears streaming from his eyes, immediately began to perform CPR, his small hooves pressing rhythmically against your chest, his little head tilted back as he tried to give you mouth-to-mouth. "Someone! Get my emergency stimulant kit! The one in the blue pouch! Hurry!" he yelled, his voice strained. "It has the epinephrine! Maybe it'll kickstart her heart! I don't know if it'll work with... with this, but we have to try!"

He was guessing. Wildly, desperately guessing. He had never encountered a Devil Fruit power that actively dismantled the body, that stole life by dissolving it. This wasn't a poison, or an injury, or a disease he could diagnose. It was something far more terrifyingly fundamental.

Nami, her face ashen, was already scrambling towards Chopper's medical bay. "The blue pouch! Got it!" she cried, her voice trembling.

Sanji swore under his breath, his hands clenching into fists as he watched the horrifying scene unfold. Robin's expression was grim, her mind undoubtedly racing, trying to find any obscure knowledge that could help. Usopp sobbed openly, burying his face in his hands. Franky let out a low, pained groan. Brook's mournful violin notes picked up in intensity, a desperate, sorrowful melody. Jinbe, his face etched with concern, stood ready to assist in any way he could, his powerful hands clenched.

Every breath they took felt like a betrayal, a stark contrast to the terrifying stillness of your chest. The Straw Hats, normally a force of nature, were paralyzed by fear, watching as their beloved nakama slipped away.

Nami sprinted back, the small blue pouch clutched in her trembling hand. "Here! Chopper!" she cried, sliding to a halt beside you.

Chopper snatched the kit, his tiny hooves fumbling with the vials, his brow furrowed in a desperate scramble against time. Your skin continued to flake, a terrifyingly visible sign of your body unraveling. He grabbed a syringe, drew a clear liquid from a small bottle labeled "Epinephrine - Cardiac Stimulant," and, with a silent prayer, plunged it into your arm, right near the point of contact with the corrosive power.

Everyone held their breath, the silence on the Thousand Sunny thicker than any storm.

A long, agonizing second passed. Then another.

"Come on, Y/N!" Luffy pleaded, his voice choked.

Suddenly, your chest gave a convulsive jolt. A faint, rattling gasp escaped your lips, and a weak, irregular beat pulsed beneath Chopper's hoof. It was barely there, a stuttering drum against the silence, but it was there. You were still unconscious, still barely breathing, and the flaking hadn't entirely stopped, but the immediate crisis had passed. You were alive. Barely.

Chopper collapsed onto your chest, sobbing with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. "Her heart... it's beating! She's breathing!" he cried, his voice muffled. "But... but I don't know how to stop it! The corrosion... it's still there!"

Zoro, who had been frozen in a state of suspended horror, sagged with a shuddering breath, the tension leaving his body in a rush. He lowered his head, resting it on your still form, a silent, profound relief washing over him. He felt your faint heartbeat against his ear, a fragile rhythm that was nonetheless a miracle.

"She's alive," Nami whispered, tears streaming down her face as a shaky, relieved laugh escaped her.

Sanji let out a long, slow exhale of smoke, his cigarette having burned down to nothing. His shoulders, which had been hunched with tension, relaxed slightly. "Thank goodness, Y/N-chan," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Usopp wiped his nose with a loud sniffle, a wide, wobbly grin breaking through his tears. "She's always getting into trouble, huh? But she always pulls through!" he chuckled, though his eyes were still red.

Robin's serene expression returned, though a shadow of concern still lingered in her eyes. "A remarkable recovery, Chopper-kun," she acknowledged, a hint of admiration in her voice. "But you are correct. The underlying issue remains."

Franky pumped a fist into the air, a subdued "SUPER!" escaping his lips, his relief palpable. "Y/N's one tough chick! Always has been!"

Brook bowed his head, his violin playing a soft, hopeful melody. "A testament to her spirit, yohohoho. And to Doctor-san's brilliance."

Jinbe nodded, his expression serious. "We have bought her time. Now, we must find a way to heal her completely. This power... it's unlike anything I've encountered."

You were alive, a fragile flicker of life in the heart of the Grand Line. But the terrifying question hung heavy in the air, echoing the fear in Chopper's words: How could they stop the corrosion? How could they truly save you? The Straw Hats had faced countless dangers, but this was a silent, insidious enemy within, and for the first time, their unparalleled strength felt utterly helpless.

The fragile, erratic beat of your heart was a small victory, but the chilling reality of your continued decay hung heavy in the air. Chopper, though relieved, was still frantically trying to stabilize you, muttering about unknown antidotes and impossible cures. The crew, though heartened by your pulse, watched, helpless and terrified.

Zoro, however, was staring at your flaking hand, a sudden, desperate thought flashing through his mind. Her power. The Chishin Chishin no Mi. It was a power of the mind, of control, of influence. Could it... could it influence even yourself? Could it fight this insidious decay from within?

He gently took your hand, his rough fingers brushing against your deteriorating skin. With agonizing care, he lifted it and placed your fingertips against your own temple, mirroring the gesture you always made when using your Devil Fruit.

"Y/N," he rasped, his voice rough with emotion, raw and exposed in a way none of them had ever heard. His other hand went to cup your face, his thumb brushing your cold, flaking cheek. "Please. Fight this. You hear me?"

A single tear, unbidden, traced a path down his scarred cheek, catching the faint light from the cloudy sky. It was a sight that stunned the entire crew into profound silence. Zoro, the stoic, the unflappable, the one who rarely showed emotion beyond battle lust or annoyance, was on the verge of tears. He was begging.

"You're strong, Y/N. The strongest," he choked out, his voice cracking. "You fix everything for us. You always have. Now... now you gotta fix yourself." His gaze was fixed on your still face, desperate, pleading. "I know you're tired. I know you're hurt. But you gotta try. Just try. Don't... don't you dare give up. I... I can't... I can't do this without you. We can't do this without you. Please, Y/N. Live."

His words, born of raw anguish and a love he rarely expressed, hung in the air. Luffy, Nami, Sanji, Usopp, Robin, Franky, Brook, Jinbe — all of them watched, mesmerized by the intensity of Zoro's uncharacteristic display. It was a testament to the depth of his feelings, a silent, powerful affirmation of your irreplaceable presence in their lives. The mighty Zoro, reduced to a desperate plea, begging you to fight, to simply live.

Zoro's desperate pleas echoed in the silence of the Thousand Sunny's deck, a raw, exposed confession that pierced through the crew's despair. He continued to hold your hand to your forehead, his voice hoarse, "Fight, Y/N! Come on! You can do this! Don't you dare leave us!"

His words hung in the air, thick with unspoken fears and profound affection. The crew watched, stunned into a collective silence they had rarely experienced. They had always known Zoro cared, but to see him so utterly vulnerable, so utterly human, was a testament to how deeply you had woven yourself into the fabric of their chaotic family.

Then, a faint, almost imperceptible light began to emanate from your fingertips pressed against your temple. It was a soft, ethereal glow, shimmering with the familiar, gentle power of the Chishin Chishin no Mi. The same light that accompanied your subtle manipulations, your quiet influences, now pulsed faintly from your unconscious form.

A collective gasp swept through the crew.

And then, the horrifying flaking of your skin stopped.

The active decay, the continuous erosion that had been relentlessly consuming you, ceased. The existing damage remained—the raw, exposed flesh, the areas where your skin had already dissolved—but the progression, the terrifying advance of the corrosion, was halted. It was as if an invisible barrier had been erected, a silent will pushing back against the destructive force.

"Her power!" Chopper shrieked, his voice choked with a mixture of awe and renewed hope. "She's... she's fighting it! She's using her Devil Fruit to protect herself!"

Zoro stared, his eyes wide, fixed on the faint glow. A shaky breath escaped him, and a wave of profound relief washed over his face, replacing the stark terror. He slumped slightly, still holding your hand in place, but the rigid tension in his shoulders eased.

"Y/N!" Luffy exclaimed, his earlier tears forgotten, replaced by a wide, relieved grin. "You did it! I knew you could!"

Nami, her eyes still brimming with tears, let out a choked sob of joy. "She's really doing it! Oh, Y/N! You're amazing!"

Sanji released a long, shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding, a small, uncharacteristic smile gracing his lips. "Always the overachiever, Y/N-chan. Even when you're unconscious."

Usopp wiped his eyes with a joyful laugh. "That's Y/N for you! Always pulling off the impossible!"

Robin's serene expression softened into a genuine, heartfelt smile. "A truly remarkable display of will, Y/N-chan. Your spirit is formidable."

Franky let out a booming "SUPER!" his voice thick with emotion, as he clapped his hands together. "She's one tough super-sister!"

Brook, his violin now playing a triumphant, soaring melody, chuckled. "To think such a powerful mind lies within such a kind heart! Yohohoho!"

Jinbe nodded, a look of profound respect on his face. "Her control over her power, even in this state, is truly extraordinary. A testament to her strength."

You were still unconscious, the visible damage a stark reminder of the battle you had barely survived. But the threat of immediate death had receded. You had bought yourself time. The relief on the Thousand Sunny was palpable, a fragile hope blossoming amidst the lingering fear. They had stopped the bleeding, so to speak, but the wound remained. They still had a long way to go, but for now, you were safe. And alive.

A fragile peace settled over the Thousand Sunny, but for Zoro, the relief was a thin veneer over a churning sea of dread. Your skin had stopped flaking, the gentle glow from your hand against your temple a testament to your unconscious fight for survival. Yet, the sight of your still form, the raw, damaged areas where your skin had already dissolved, gnawed at him. He was relieved, yes, but a cold, heavy stone of worry settled in his gut.

He couldn't lose you. The thought hit him with the force of a tidal wave, clearer and more potent than any opponent's blow. He had always been the one to walk his own path, to stand alone. But you... you were different. You were the quiet anchor, the warm constant in the beautiful chaos of his life on this ship. You remembered the small things, the little comforts, the unspoken needs. You were the one who stitched Luffy's hat, who kept his swords perfectly maintained, who seemed to effortlessly understand the unspoken language of the crew.

He cared too much. That was it, wasn't it? He cared so much that the thought of you not being here, not being the quiet, kind presence you were, twisted something deep inside him.

His gaze lingered on your pale, unconscious face, on the faint glow emanating from your fingertips. He loved you.

The realization hit him with a startling clarity, a silent, internal thunderclap. He loved you. It wasn't just care, not just friendship, not just the deep bond of nakama. It was a profound, aching, terrifying love that had been simmering beneath his stoic exterior, unnoticed, unacknowledged, until now. Until he nearly lost you. The sheer weight of that realization, the raw, overwhelming emotion, settled heavily in his chest.

"Let's get her to the infirmary!" Chopper announced, his voice still shaky but imbued with renewed purpose. "We need to keep her stable, and I need to figure out what to do next!"

Carefully, reverently, Zoro lifted you into his arms once more, his movements gentle despite the tremor in his hands. He held you close, the feeling of your fragile weight both a comfort and a sharp reminder of how close he had come to losing you. The crew parted, making a path for him and Chopper.

"We'll need to keep a close eye on her," Robin said softly, following closely behind.

Nami nodded, her earlier tears giving way to determined resolve. "Whatever we need to do, Chopper. Just tell us."

As Zoro carried you through the door and down into the ship's infirmary, the love he had just realized pulsed within him, a fiercely protective new burden. He had to keep you safe. He had to keep you alive. Because now, with this sudden, stark understanding, he knew he truly couldn't face the world without you.

A dull throb, a persistent ache, was your first sensation as consciousness slowly seeped back into your mind. It wasn't the usual gentle awakening aboard the Thousand Sunny, but a jarring return to a body screaming in protest. A groan escaped your lips, raw and unfamiliar.

Your eyes fluttered open, struggling to focus against the unfamiliar ceiling. It was white, sterile, and smelled faintly of antiseptic – definitely the infirmary. Panic flared, a quick, sharp jab to your chest. What happened?

You tried to move, to sit up, but a searing pain shot through your arm, followed by a dizzying wave of nausea. A small, involuntary cry escaped you. You blinked, focusing on the source of the agony. Your arm, the one that had been closest to the Marine captain, was swathed in thick, pristine bandages, meticulously wrapped from your shoulder to your wrist. A quick glance confirmed that patches of white, gauze, and tape adorned other parts of your body, though thankfully less extensive.

Your mind, still hazy from the pain and whatever Chopper had given you, slowly pieced together fragments. The ambush. The overwhelming, corrosive power of the Marine captain. Chopper’s terrified scream. And then... a sudden, desperate lunge. You remembered throwing yourself forward, placing your hand on your head, trying to activate your power, trying to stop him.

A wave of dread washed over you as the memory solidified. He had touched you. That awful, disintegrating power. You remembered the searing pain, the sensation of your own skin flaking away. And then... nothing. Blankness.

A chilling thought wormed its way into your mind: Am I... okay? Am I whole? You tentatively wiggled your bandaged fingers, then your toes. Everything seemed to respond, albeit sluggishly. The pain, though intense, was manageable now, a constant background hum rather than a sharp shriek.

You were alive. Barely. The thought brought a strange mix of relief and terror. You had faced countless battles, witnessed unimaginable horrors, but this had been different. This felt... fundamental. Like your very essence had been threatened. You hated the feeling of being so vulnerable, so completely out of control.

A deeper concern then surfaced: the crew. Were they okay? Had anyone else been hurt trying to protect you? The memory of Chopper's scream, of the chaos on deck, fueled a quiet anxiety. You pushed down the urge to panic, focusing on the rhythmic creak of the ship and the distant sounds of the sea. You were in the infirmary, safe for now. But the burning question remained: How had you survived? And what had happened after you blacked out?

Your eyes, still a little unfocused, scanned the small infirmary. The gentle rocking of the Thousand Sunny was a comforting constant. Then, in the corner, slumped in a wooden chair, you saw him. Zoro. His head was tipped back, a faint snore rumbling in his chest, his three swords propped against the wall beside him. Even in sleep, he looked like he was standing guard. A soft, unexpected warmth bloomed in your chest at the sight of him. He looked utterly exhausted.

The door to the infirmary hissed open, and in scampered Chopper, a pile of medical books precariously balanced in his tiny hooves. He was humming a little tune until his eyes, wide and surprised, landed on you.

"Y/N! You're awake!" he squeaked, the books tumbling to the floor with a soft thud. His eyes immediately welled up, and he launched himself onto the bed, his little body shaking with relief. "Oh, Y/N, I was so worried! Your heart stopped for a bit! I thought... I thought we'd lost you!" He buried his face in your bandaged arm, soft sobs shaking his small frame.

The sound of Chopper's outburst, though muffled, was enough to rouse Zoro. His head snapped up, his eyes blinking rapidly to clear the sleep. He saw Chopper on the bed, and then, his gaze locked onto you. His eyes, usually sharp and intense, softened with a wave of profound relief you'd never seen directed at you before. He was on his feet in an instant, crossing the small room in a few strides.

"You're awake," he stated, his voice a low, rough murmur. He stood beside the bed, his arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes never left your face. There was a vulnerability in his gaze, a raw emotion that made your breath catch.

"Hey, Chopper," you whispered, reaching out a hand to gently pat his head, careful of the bandages. "I'm okay, buddy. Just a bit sore." You looked at Zoro, a faint smile touching your lips. "And you, sleepyhead. Were you here the whole time?"

Zoro grunted, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. "Someone had to make sure you didn't kick the bucket," he mumbled, though the underlying concern in his voice was unmistakable. He still looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and a faint stubble roughened his jaw.

Chopper pulled back, wiping his nose. "You stopped it, Y/N! Your power! It fought back against the corrosion!" he exclaimed, looking at you with admiration. "It was amazing! We didn't know what to do, but Zoro... Zoro told you to fight, and then you just... glowed! And the flaking stopped!"

Your eyes widened. My power? Fighting it from within? You remembered Zoro's voice, pleading, desperate, urging you to live. So that's what happened. He had somehow, instinctively, pushed you to use your own ability. The ache in your chest wasn't just physical anymore; it was a blend of pain, gratitude, and a bewildering warmth.

"So," you said, your voice still a little weak, "I'm alive. But... this?" You gestured to your bandaged arm. "Will it heal?"

Chopper immediately became all business, though his eyes still held a lingering worry. "I've stopped the active corrosion, Y/N! That's the important part! But the parts that dissolved... they're gone. I can't just make your skin reappear. It's going to be a long recovery, and we'll need to make sure the corrosion doesn't start up again, especially if we face that captain again." He puffed out his chest a little. "But you're a tough human! And I'm the best doctor! We'll figure it out, just you wait!"

Zoro remained silent, his gaze fixed on you, a strange mixture of relief, lingering fear, and something else—something softer, deeper—in his eyes. The infirmary, usually a place of quiet recovery, now felt charged with unspoken emotions. You were safe, for now, but the journey to full recovery, and the true meaning of what had transpired, had only just begun.

The infirmary became your temporary home, and with it, began the arduous journey of recovery. Chopper, a whirlwind of boundless energy and medical genius, tirelessly tended to your wounds. The dressings were changed daily, revealing the raw, unhealed patches of skin where the corrosive power had stripped it away. It was a slow, painful process, and despite Chopper's assurances, the parts that had been gone truly were gone, leaving your body a patchwork of delicate new skin and exposed, tender flesh.

You tried, truly you did, to resume your duties as Quartermaster. You'd sit up in bed, a medical chart spread across your lap, painstakingly checking inventory, managing supplies, and ensuring everything was in its proper place. But the pain, a constant, dull throb that flared with movement, made focus difficult. Even simple tasks, like sketching out a resupply list, left you exhausted. The mental fatigue from your Chishin Chishin no Mi's intense use lingered, too, leaving you prone to headaches if you exerted yourself.

But what was even rougher, perhaps even worse than the physical pain, was Zoro. He was ignoring you.

It wasn't outright avoidance, not entirely. He'd still come into the infirmary, usually when Chopper was busy or when he thought you were asleep. He'd sit in his usual corner chair, polishing his swords, or simply staring out the porthole. But he wouldn't look at you. If you spoke, he'd grunt a noncommittal answer, his gaze fixed on the wall or the hilt of his sword.

One afternoon, as you struggled to reach a misplaced logbook on a shelf, your bandaged arm protesting every stretch, he was there. You could feel his presence, the shift in the air. "Zoro, could you…?" you started, wincing as a sharp pain shot through your elbow.

He didn't move. He simply stared blankly at a spot on the wall opposite you. After a moment, Nami, who had been sitting by your bedside reading, sighed dramatically and reached for the book herself. "Honestly, Zoro, are your eyes decorative?" she muttered, easily retrieving it for you. Zoro remained silent, not even flinching at her jab, a clear indication something was deeply amiss.

Later, when Luffy burst into the infirmary, demanding you join him for a game, Zoro merely grunted. "She's still recovering," he mumbled, his voice flat, not meeting Luffy's enthusiastic gaze. He usually had a sharp retort, a playful jab, but now, nothing. He just got up and left the room, his shoulders stiff, leaving Luffy confused and Chopper sighing.

Even during mealtimes, when the crew would gather, full of boisterous laughter and stories, Zoro kept his distance. He'd often be the last to arrive, picking a seat at the far end of the table, engrossed in his sake. If you happened to catch his eye across the table, he'd immediately look away, his jaw tight. It was a subtle, almost imperceptible shift for anyone else, but for you, who paid attention to the nuances, it was a gaping canyon between you.

It was baffling, and it hurt. The man who had been so desperate, so raw with emotion when you were dying, was now acting as if you were a ghost. The memory of his anguished pleas, his tears, his declaration of 'cannot do this without you,' played on a loop in your mind, contrasting sharply with his current, agonizing distance. You were alive, yes, but Zoro's uncharacteristic avoidance was a new, unexpected wound, one that Chopper's bandages couldn't hope to cover.

Weeks bled into months, and with each passing day, your body fought valiantly, slowly, agonizingly healing. The raw, exposed patches of skin gradually closed, replaced by a delicate, almost translucent new layer. The pain receded, becoming a faint memory rather than a constant companion. Soon, you could sit up without wincing, walk without a tremor, and eventually, move with almost your usual agility. The constant headaches from your Chishin Chishin no Mi's exertion faded, and the strength returned to your mind, just as it did to your body. You were finally back to your old self, or at least, a very close approximation.

You could manage the Quartermaster duties with ease now, your mental acuity sharp as ever. You were back to slipping Chopper his favorite candies, restocking Nami’s maps, and making sure Brook’s bow was perfectly rosined. A sense of normalcy, a welcome routine, had returned to your life on the Thousand Sunny.

But your relationship with Zoro? It didn't get better. It got worse.

The initial distance had solidified into an almost unbreakable wall. He still didn't meet your eyes, still mumbled evasive answers, still found reasons to leave the room if you entered. The only time he truly acknowledged your presence, the only time he spoke to you, was during training. And that, surprisingly, was a lot.

Too much, even.

His training sessions with you, once rigorous but measured, had become relentless, almost cruel. He pushed you beyond your limits, beyond what was safe, beyond what even he usually demanded of his nakama. It was as if he was trying to work out some internal frustration, or perhaps, punish himself – and you, by extension.

"Again!" he'd bark, his voice sharp, devoid of any warmth. You'd just barely managed to dodge a blow from his Wado Ichimonji, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Your arm, newly healed, ached with the strain. "You're getting sloppy, Y/N! Your reactions are sluggish!"

One afternoon, in the training room below deck, the air was thick with the metallic tang of sweat and the clang of steel. You were practicing close-quarters combat, relying on your agility and the subtle mental pushes of your Devil Fruit to disorient him. He moved like a whirlwind, faster, stronger than ever, giving you no quarter. He’d disarm you with a brutal swiftness, then press a dull blade to your throat.

"Too slow!" he'd growl, his eyes, dark and unreadable, boring into yours. "You hesitate. That hesitation will cost you your life out here!" He'd force you to spar for hours, long after your muscles screamed in protest, long after your vision blurred from exhaustion. He wouldn't stop, wouldn't let you rest, not until you practically collapsed.

"Again!" he'd demand, even when your legs felt like lead and your mind felt like static. He’d throw you against the wall, not hard enough to cause serious injury, but enough to leave a bruise, enough to make you gasp. "Get up! You think enemies care if you're tired?!"

Another time, he had you practicing your mental paralysis technique, demanding you hold a Marine dummy in place for extended periods. Your temples throbbed, your head pounded, and a thin sheen of sweat covered your face as you strained your will. "Hold it!" he commanded, his voice cold. "Stronger! Don't let it twitch! You let your guard down for a second, and it's over!" He'd make you repeat it until your nose bled from the mental strain, leaving you dizzy and disoriented, before dismissing you with a curt nod.

His expressions during these sessions were grim, his jaw perpetually clenched. There was no encouragement, no praise, just a relentless, almost brutal drive. It was as if he was trying to forge you into something unbreakable, something that could never be hurt again. But in doing so, he was putting an unbearable strain on the fragile threads that connected you. The man who had nearly cried over you now pushed you to your breaking point, and the confusion, the hurt, the sheer emotional exhaustion, was almost as debilitating as the physical pain had been.

In all truth, Zoro's brutal training regimen was a desperate, misguided act of love. Every harsh command, every punishing spar, every moment he pushed you to your limit, it was fueled by a singular, overwhelming fear: the fear of losing you again. He couldn't bear the thought of seeing you so vulnerable, so close to death. He couldn't relive the agony of watching your skin flake away, of hearing Chopper's terrified pronouncement. He loved you, deeply and fiercely, and this was his twisted way of protecting you, of forging you into someone who would never face such a terrifying helplessness again. He couldn't lose his nakama. He couldn't lose you.

You, lost in the pain and confusion of his distance, couldn't see it. You couldn't perceive the raw terror that drove his actions. But the rest of the crew? They saw it all.

Subtle Signs

Luffy, for all his obliviousness, sensed the shift in Zoro. He'd find Zoro staring out at the sea, a haunted look in his eyes, whenever you were out of sight. One evening, as you finally retired to bed after a particularly grueling session, Luffy found Zoro still in the training room, mercilessly hacking away at a dummy. "Zoro," Luffy had asked, his voice softer than usual, "are you mad at Y/N?" Zoro had paused, his shoulders stiff. "No," he'd grunted, but his grip on his sword hilt was white-knuckled. Luffy, surprisingly perceptive in his own way, just nodded, a knowing glint in his eye.

Nami, ever the observer of emotional currents, saw it in the way Zoro's gaze would involuntarily snap to you whenever you laughed, or when you accidentally bumped your still-healing arm. He'd quickly look away, pretending to be utterly uninterested, but Nami caught the lingering worry, the almost possessive concern in his eyes. She'd often see him covertly watching you from the crow's nest, his face unreadable to you, but to her, it spoke volumes of a deep, unspoken attachment.

Sanji, despite his constant rivalry with Zoro, couldn't deny the truth of what he was witnessing. He'd catch Zoro's eyes, narrowed in furious concentration, tracking your every movement during a training session. One day, after Zoro had pushed you to the brink of collapse, Sanji had walked past the swordsman, muttering, "If you break her, Marimo, I'll cook you." Zoro hadn't retorted, hadn't even sneered. He'd just clenched his jaw, a silent acknowledgment that Sanji's words had hit their mark.

Chopper, with his empathetic heart, understood Zoro's anxiety better than anyone. He knew the depth of Zoro's fear when your heart had stopped. He'd often find Zoro lingering near the infirmary door, listening for your movements, or quietly asking about your progress without looking directly at Chopper. He knew Zoro wasn't trying to hurt you; he was desperately trying to ensure you'd never be in such danger again.

Even Robin, ever perceptive, noted the contrast between Zoro's harsh training and his quiet vigilance. She'd often see him retrieve a dropped item for you, placing it within reach without a word, or subtly clearing a path for you on a crowded deck. His actions, so seemingly contradictory to his cold demeanor, spoke volumes of a protectiveness that bordered on fierce devotion.

They saw the love that you, caught in your own pain and confusion, couldn't yet perceive. They saw the giant, green-haired sentinel, unknowingly protecting the one he cherished most, even if his methods were rough, even if his fear manifested as a cruel distance.

The air in the training room was thick with the scent of sweat and simmering frustration. Zoro was a relentless whirlwind, his three swords a blur of steel. You moved, ducked, parried, and dodged, your body screaming in protest with every forced motion. He was pushing you beyond your limits, beyond anything reasonable. Your newly healed skin, while resilient, was still tender, and a sharp pain flared in your arm as you barely deflected a blow meant for your side.

"Faster, Y/N!" Zoro's voice was a guttural growl, his eyes unreadable, devoid of any warmth. "You're lagging! That hesitation will get you killed!" He lunged, a swift, brutal thrust that you narrowly evaded, stumbling back against the wall with a grunt.

"I can't, Zoro! I'm exhausted!" you gasped, your breath ragged, your chest heaving. Your head throbbed, a familiar precursor to the migraine that often followed overexertion of your Devil Fruit.

He didn't relent. "Exhausted means dead out here! Get up!" He advanced, his blades flashing. You barely managed to block an incoming strike, the impact jarring your entire arm. Your vision blurred slightly, and a bitter taste filled your mouth.

Something inside you snapped. Weeks of relentless pain, of his cold distance, of the crushing confusion, boiled over into a simmering rage. You dropped your practice weapon, the clatter echoing loudly in the tense room.

"What is your problem, Zoro?!" you demanded, your voice sharp, laced with an anger you rarely allowed yourself to feel. You glared at him, your chest heaving, ignoring the throbbing in your arm. "Are you trying to kill me?! You've been like this for weeks! Why are you doing this?!"

"What is your problem, Zoro?!" you demanded, your voice sharp, laced with an anger you rarely allowed yourself to feel. You glared at him, your chest heaving, ignoring the throbbing in your arm. "Are you trying to kill me?! You've been like this for weeks! Why are you doing this?!"

His eyes, usually so unreadable, flickered with something unidentifiable. A flicker of surprise, perhaps, quickly masked by his usual hardened expression.

"Ever since I almost died," you continued, your voice rising, "you've been nothing but cold! Treating me like shit! Pushing me like I'm some useless recruit! What happened to 'I can't do this without you'?! Was that just an act, then? Just a way to scare me into living?!" The pain, the confusion, the lingering fear of the corrosion, all poured out in a torrent of furious words. You took a step forward, your chest heaving, uncaring of his formidable presence. "Just tell me, Zoro! Why are you doing this to me?!"

Zoro’s jaw tightened. He held your furious gaze, his own eyes, for once, not darting away. The usual stoicism, the blank wall he’d erected around himself for weeks, began to crack, revealing a raw, turbulent emotion beneath. He took a slow, deliberate breath, his grip tightening on his sword hilt.

"Because I can't go through that again," he finally rasped, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His eyes, usually sharp and distant, were now wide and haunted, reflecting a fear you hadn't seen since that horrific day on deck. "I can't watch you die like that again."

He took a step towards you, his gaze locked onto your still-healing arm, then up to your face. "That fear... that was worse than anything I've ever felt. Seeing you... crumbling... I couldn't do anything." His voice was low, strained, the words torn from a place of deep pain. "I'm pushing you because you have to get stronger. You have to be strong enough that no one, no damn Devil Fruit, can ever touch you like that again. So I don't have to feel that again."

His hand, surprisingly, reached out, not to grab you, but to hover, uncertainly, over your bandaged arm, as if he wanted to touch you but was afraid to. "I... I can't lose you, Y/N." The confession was quiet, laced with an aching vulnerability that shattered his usual composure.

"I... I can't lose you, Y/N." The confession hung in the air, a raw, aching vulnerability that shattered Zoro's usual composure. His hand still hovered over your bandaged arm, trembling almost imperceptibly.

You stared at him, your anger deflating like a punctured balloon, replaced by a bewildering mix of shock, understanding, and a tenderness that bloomed in your chest. The intensity of his fear, the depth of his unspoken love – it all hit you at once. He wasn't pushing you away; he was desperately, agonizingly trying to prevent another terrifying near-loss.

A beat of silence stretched between you, thick with unspoken emotions. Zoro's eyes, wide and exposed, searched yours, and then, a flicker of regret crossed his face. He pulled his hand back as if burned.

"Damn it," he muttered, turning his head away, his voice laced with self-reproach. "I shouldn't have said that. Forget it." The wall was already beginning to rise again, the familiar stoicism threatening to swallow his raw honesty.

But you wouldn't let it. Not now. Not after everything.

Without thinking, driven by an impulse as strong and sudden as his own confession, you reached out. Your unbandaged hand, surprisingly steady, cupped his cheek, turning his face back towards you. His eyes, though still clouded with regret, widened in surprise.

Then, you leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Your lips met his, soft and hesitant at first, then firm.

For a moment, Zoro was completely still, rigid with shock. But only for a moment. Then, with a soft groan that seemed to rise from the depths of his being, he melted into the kiss. His arm, the one not holding his sword, wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. His lips, rough and chapped, moved against yours with a desperate, overwhelming passion, a silent echo of the fear he had just confessed, and the love he could no longer deny. The clatter of his practice sword hitting the floor was the only sound in the small training room, lost in the overwhelming rush of a kiss that promised a new beginning.

The clatter of his practice sword hitting the floor was the only sound in the small training room, swiftly swallowed by the overwhelming rush of a kiss that promised a new beginning. What began as a soft, hesitant press of lips quickly deepened, fueled by weeks of unspoken fear, suppressed tenderness, and a raw, newly acknowledged love.

Zoro's arm around your waist tightened, pulling you flush against him until there was no space left between your bodies. Your own hand, still cupping his rough cheek, slipped into his hair, fingers tangling in the short, green strands as you leaned into the kiss, pouring every ounce of your pent-up emotion into it.

His lips, initially rough and chapped, softened and molded against yours with an intensity that made your head spin. He angled his head, deepening the kiss, his mouth exploring yours with a desperate, almost hungry passion. A soft gasp escaped your throat as his tongue traced the seam of your lips, and you readily parted them, inviting him in.

The kiss became a swirling vortex of sensation. His tongue tangled with yours, a dance of exploration and raw desire. You could taste the faint tang of sake on his breath, mixed with the clean scent of sweat and steel that was uniquely him. Your fingers clenched in his hair, pulling him closer, as if you could fuse your very beings together.

His hand, which had been resting on your waist, slid lower, pressing firmly against the small of your back, arching you into him. You could feel the hard planes of his chest against your front, the steady thrum of his heart mirroring the frantic beat of your own. Your bandaged arm, momentarily forgotten in the rush of sensation, brushed against his side, but neither of you seemed to notice.

The air in the training room crackled, growing heavy and warm. Every touch, every movement, every shift of lips against lips sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire that had long simmered beneath the surface. It was a kiss born of relief, of fear conquered, of a love that had finally, explosively, burst into the open. The world outside the infirmary, the rest of the Thousand Sunny, the vast, dangerous Grand Line, all faded away, leaving only the fierce, consuming intensity of Zoro's kiss.

The kiss deepened, becoming a fierce, consuming inferno. Zoro's hand, still firm on your lower back, suddenly shifted, pushing you backward until your back met the cool, unyielding metal of the training room wall. The impact was soft, absorbed by the sheer force of his body pressing into yours, effectively pinning you.

He didn't break the kiss, his mouth still devouring yours, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. His other hand, which had been entangled in your hair, now slid down your back, tracing the curve of your spine, sending shivers through your entire body. He pressed his hips against yours, leaving no doubt about his escalating desire.

Your own hands, driven by an equal hunger, instinctively clutched at his vest, pulling him even closer, desperate to feel every inch of his hard, muscled frame against yours. You groaned into the kiss, a soft, helpless sound that seemed to fuel his intensity.

His lips finally broke away from yours, but only to trail a scorching path along your jawline, down the sensitive skin of your neck. His breath hitched as he buried his face in the crook of your shoulder, inhaling your scent, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Y/N," he rasped, his voice raw and husky, a sound you’d never heard from him before. His hand began to roam, leaving the small of your back to trace the curve of your hip, then upward, beneath your shirt, his calloused fingers brushing against your warmed skin. The touch sent a jolt through you, a spark igniting a deep, primal heat within your core.

His other hand moved, sliding to the side of your waist, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. You gasped, your head tilting back against the wall, utterly lost in the maelstrom of sensation. Every touch, every breath, every whispered sound from him sent tremors through your body, blurring the lines between reality and a desire you had barely dared to dream of. The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, a powerful current sweeping you both into uncharted territory.

Zoro's lips were still scorching your neck, his rough hand roaming beneath your shirt, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin of your ribs. The heat between you was undeniable, a roaring fire that consumed everything else. Yet, amidst the rising tide of desire, he paused.

His head lifted, his breath still ragged against your ear. His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, met yours. The raw passion was still there, burning fiercely, but beneath it was a flicker of something else: a deep-seated respect, an unspoken question.

"Are you sure about this, Y/N?" he rasped, his voice thick with a mixture of desire and genuine concern. His thumb, still brushing against your skin, paused its movement, awaiting your answer. The question, asked amidst such a heated moment, spoke volumes of the honor he held for you, of the bond that went beyond mere physical attraction.

You met his gaze, your own eyes wide and shimmering with a burgeoning desire that mirrored his. The pain, the confusion, the fear – all of it faded into the background. All that remained was him, and the powerful, undeniable connection that had just burst into the open. You didn't need words. You simply nodded, a firm, resolute movement of your head against the cool metal of the wall.

A low groan rumbled in Zoro's chest, a sound of profound relief and escalating desire. Your affirmative nod was all the permission he needed. His eyes, now burning with renewed intensity, returned to yours for a split second, a silent confirmation of mutual yearning.

Then, his hands began to move with a newfound purpose. One hand, still pressed against your back, eased down to the hem of your shirt, his calloused fingers deftly gathering the fabric. With a smooth, unhurried motion, he began to pull it upwards, slowly, deliberately, his gaze never leaving yours. The fabric rustled, riding up your torso, exposing more of your heated skin to the cool air of the training room. He lifted your arms, his strong hands guiding them through the sleeves until the shirt was completely removed and tossed to the floor, a soft discard in the dim light.

His eyes lingered on your exposed torso for a moment, a silent appreciation before they flickered back to your face, seeking your reaction. You were breathing heavily, your chest heaving, but you offered him a soft, encouraging smile.

Then, his hands moved to the waistband of your shorts. With a practiced ease, his fingers found the button, then the zipper. The soft rasp of fabric, the slight coolness of the metal, were sharp sensations against your heated skin. He began to slide them down, slowly, allowing the fabric to gather around your hips before he eased them lower, over your thighs and knees, until they pooled around your ankles.

He straightened, his gaze now sweeping over your entire form, a mixture of awe and raw desire blazing in his eyes. The world outside the training room had truly ceased to exist.

With your clothes discarded on the floor, Zoro's eyes, burning with untamed desire, raked over your form, now clad only in your underwear and bra. A low groan rumbled in his chest, a sound of profound appreciation and escalating hunger. He leaned in, his lips finding the tender skin just below your collarbone, kissing, tasting, trailing a path downwards.

His hands, rough and calloused, followed his lips, stroking over your hips, the curve of your stomach, the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making your breath catch in your throat. He kissed your shoulder, then the swell of your breast peeking above your bra, his touch a searing brand against your skin. You arched into him, your hands finding purchase on his broad shoulders, clinging to him as if he were your only anchor in a storm of sensation.

Then, with a sudden shift, he pulled away just enough to create a sliver of space. His gaze, still locked with yours, was intense, filled with a raw, undeniable desire. He reached for the hem of his own vest, pulling it over his head with a swift, fluid motion, revealing the sculpted planes of his chest, the taut lines of his abdomen, and the intricate scars that crisscrossed his skin. He tossed the vest aside, then began to unbuckle his sword belt, the familiar click of the metal a surprising counterpoint to the escalating heat in the room. His swords, the symbols of his life, were carefully set aside, one by one.

You watched, mesmerized, as he shed his remaining clothes: his shirt, then his pants, until he stood before you, clad only in his boxers. His body, honed by countless battles and relentless training, was a breathtaking sight, a testament to raw power and unwavering dedication.

Driven by an instinct you didn't even recognize, a sudden surge of boldness coursing through you, your knees buckled. Whether it was the overwhelming desire, the lingering weakness from your recovery, or a deliberate, teasing choice, you found yourself sinking to the floor, kneeling before him. Your eyes, blazing with an answering hunger, met his, and a slow, confident smile touched your lips.

His gaze, momentarily surprised, softened into a look of profound pleasure. You reached out, your fingers finding the elastic band of his boxers. Your thumb traced the rough fabric, then slipped beneath the waistband, just enough to tease the taut skin of his hip. Your eyes, full of unspoken promise, lifted to his, challenging him, inviting him deeper into the desires you now shared.

You watched his eyes, ablaze with a mixture of surprise and mounting desire, as you slowly, deliberately, found the elastic band of his boxers. Your fingers, emboldened by the raw intensity of the moment, hooked into the fabric. With a slow, teasing pull, you dragged them down, over his sculpted hips, past his muscular thighs, until the dark fabric pooled around his ankles on the floor.

His cock sprang free, thick and powerfully aroused, jutting out with an almost startling vigor. A soft gasp escaped your lips, a mixture of awe and eager anticipation. You lifted your gaze to his, a daring challenge in your eyes, before letting your vision drop, mesmerized by the sight.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his shaft, and began to tease it. Your lips, soft and pliant, brushed lightly along the rigid length, a feather-light touch that promised more. You kissed the tip, a fleeting, butterfly-wing graze, then trailed your mouth lower, tasting him, inhaling his musky scent. A low groan rumbled from Zoro's chest above you, his hands instinctively reaching out, settling on your shoulders, steadying himself.

Your tongue flickered out, a soft, warm lick along the head, then trailed slowly down, swirling around the sensitive underside. You felt him tense, a shudder running through his powerful frame. The taste of him was intoxicating, a primal essence that deepened the heat coiling in your gut.

Then, with a resolve that matched the fire in your eyes, you opened your mouth. Slowly, deliberately, you took him in, the thick, hot length filling your mouth, stretching your lips. You could feel the rigid heat of him against your tongue, the slight pulsing, the sheer power of him. You began to move, a slow, deliberate rhythm, drawing him deeper, savoring the taste, the feel, the incredible intimacy of the moment.

You continued the teasing, a slow, deliberate rhythm of lips and tongue, drawing him deeper, then easing off, savoring the shuddering breaths that escaped him. His hands, still on your shoulders, clenched and unclenched, his body a taut bowstring of anticipation. The air in the training room grew heavier, charged with the raw, desperate need that pulsed between you.

Finally, with a guttural groan that rumbled deep in his chest, Zoro had enough. His hands, suddenly no longer gentle, tangled in your hair, gripping the strands firmly. With a rough, powerful motion, he pushed his hips forward, burying his cock deeper into your mouth, his raw urgency palpable.

"Hurry up," he rasped, his voice strained, laced with a plea that bordered on a command.

You couldn't help it. Even with the powerful thrust, even with the demanding tone, a soft, husky chuckle rumbled in your throat, vibrating against his hot skin as you continued to take him deeper. The moment was too charged, too exhilarating, too undeniably him.

You began to suck him off, your lips working in a practiced rhythm, drawing him deeper, releasing, and drawing him in again. Your tongue swirled around the head, then flickered along the underside, eliciting soft groans and sharp intakes of breath from him. The taste of him was intoxicating, the feel of him thick and hot in your mouth. You wanted to drive him wild, to bring him to the brink with your mouth alone.

But Zoro was beyond the brink. He was already there, teetering on the edge, his patience snapped by your teasing and his own overwhelming need.

With a sudden, decisive motion, his hand tangled more firmly in your hair, gripping the roots. There was no gentleness in it now, only raw, unrestrained urgency. He pulled your head back, exposing your throat, and with a guttural roar, he began to thrust his hips forward, using the grip on your hair to control your movements.

Your mouth became a tight, wet sheath for him as he began to face-fuck you, pushing his cock deep into your throat with forceful, rhythmic thrusts. Your eyes watered, but you held his gaze, a mixture of pain, surprise, and raw submission in your expression. He was driving into you, hard and fast, a primal need overriding everything else. Each thrust was a desperate demand, a release of the tension that had coiled within him for so long.

He was driving into you, hard and fast, a primal need overriding everything else. Each thrust was a desperate demand, a release of the tension that had coiled within him for so long. Your eyes watered, but you held his gaze, a mixture of pain, surprise, and raw submission in your expression. The grip on your hair was firm, guiding your head, ensuring each forceful plunge met its mark.

Your hands, still wrapped around his hips, instinctively tightened, holding him in place even as your throat ached with the effort. You focused on his eyes, now dark and clouded with pure instinct, and the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. The training room, once a place of brutal exercises, was now filled with the primal sounds of skin on skin, ragged breaths, and the low, guttural groans that rumbled from deep within Zoro's chest.

He continued to thrust, his body a powerful piston, until with a final, deep surge, he let out a choked cry, his hips bucking. You felt the hot rush of his release deep in your throat, a visceral, overwhelming sensation. His body shuddered against yours, and he collapsed forward, his weight pressing you against the wall, his forehead resting against yours as he gasped for air.

His hand slowly, gently, released your hair, coming to rest on the side of your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. The raw intensity in his eyes slowly began to clear, replaced by a lingering vulnerability and a deep, overwhelming exhaustion. You were both breathing heavily, the remnants of passion and fear swirling in the air around you.

Zoro's breathing slowly evened out, his chest still heaving against yours. He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting your still-dilated ones. A silent question, a shared exhaustion, and a profound, raw intimacy hung between you. He leaned in again, slowly, deliberately, his lips finding yours once more.

This kiss was different. It was slower, tender, a soft exploration. He tasted himself on your lips, a possessive yet gentle acknowledgment of what had just transpired. His tongue swirled, mingling your essences, a silent reaffirmation of the boundary you had just crossed together.

His hand, which had been resting on your face, now drifted lower, tracing the curve of your jaw, down your throat, and then across your chest. It found the waistband of your panties, still clinging loosely around your hips. With an almost imperceptible movement, his fingers slipped underneath the elastic, his touch soft and deliberate against your warm skin. He didn't rush, letting the simple friction of his touch build a new wave of heat between you, a silent promise of more.

Zoro's breathing slowly evened out, his chest still heaving against yours. He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting your still-dilated ones. A silent question, a shared exhaustion, and a profound, raw intimacy hung between you. He leaned in again, slowly, deliberately, his lips finding yours once more.

This kiss was different. It was slower, tender, a soft exploration. He tasted himself on your lips, a possessive yet gentle acknowledgment of what had just transpired. His tongue swirled, mingling your essences, a silent reaffirmation of the boundary you had just crossed together.

His hand, which had been resting on your face, now drifted lower, tracing the curve of your jaw, down your throat, and then across your chest. It found the waistband of your panties, still clinging loosely around your hips. With an almost imperceptible movement, his fingers slipped underneath the elastic, his touch soft and deliberate against your warm skin. He didn't rush, letting the simple friction of his touch build a new wave of heat between you, a silent promise of more.

The pleasure built, a relentless tide surging through you as Zoro’s fingers worked their magic, expertly stretching and teasing. You were on the cusp, trembling on the edge of release, a soft moan escaping your lips as your body tightened in anticipation. Just as the wave was about to crest, just as your vision began to swim with pure sensation…

He pulled out.

The sudden absence was jarring, a sharp, cold shock after the intense heat. Your eyes flew open, wide with disbelief and a desperate yearning. He looked down at you, a slow, predatory smirk dancing on his lips, a glint of mischievous triumph in his dark eyes.

"Payback," he rasped, his voice a low growl, barely a whisper in the quiet room.

Before you could even process the tease, his hands moved with swift efficiency. He pulled your panties down, easily sliding them past your hips, thighs, and knees, until they joined the rest of your discarded clothes on the floor.

Then, with surprising strength, he lifted your legs, bending them at the knee and wrapping them around his waist. Your body instinctively adjusted, your inner thighs pressing against his hardened hips. He leaned in, his eyes burning into yours, and you felt the thick, hot tip of his cock press against your aching entrance, lining up perfectly.

A sharp intake of breath escaped your lips as you felt the blunt, hot head of his cock press against your aching entrance. He didn't thrust in immediately. Instead, he moved with agonizing slowness, pushing just the tip inside, stretching you gently, giving your body a chance to adjust to his impressive size.

You instinctively arched your back, your hips tilting to meet him, a soft moan escaping your throat. His eyes, dark and intense, watched your face, searching for any sign of discomfort, but finding only unadulterated yearning. He took another slow, deliberate push, inch by agonizing inch, until the head was fully inside, filling you with a delicious pressure.

Your body instinctively clenched around him, a tight, warm embrace. He paused again, letting you acclimate to the fullness, the raw sensation. His breath was ragged against your ear, and you could feel the tremor in his powerful muscles as he held himself poised, just on the brink of total immersion. The tension was exquisite, a silent promise of the release to come.

He took another slow, deliberate push, inch by agonizing inch, until the head was fully inside, filling you with a delicious pressure. Your body instinctively clenched around him, a tight, warm embrace. He paused again, letting you acclimate to the fullness, the raw sensation. His breath was ragged against your ear, and you could feel the tremor in his powerful muscles as he held himself poised, just on the brink of total immersion. The tension was exquisite, a silent promise of the release to come.

Then, with a low groan that vibrated deep within his chest, Zoro finally pushed all the way in. A sharp, pleasurable gasp escaped your lips as your body stretched and enveloped him, taking his full length. He filled you completely, a perfect, undeniable fit that made your mind swim. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust, letting both of you simply savor the profound intimacy of being utterly connected.

His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, met yours, a silent question passing between you. You met his gaze, your own eyes shimmering with desire and a raw, burgeoning love. You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, conveying your readiness without a single word.

He took another slow, deliberate push, inch by agonizing inch, until the head was fully inside, filling you with a delicious pressure. Your body instinctively clenched around him, a tight, warm embrace. He paused again, letting you acclimate to the fullness, the raw sensation. His breath was ragged against your ear, and you could feel the tremor in his powerful muscles as he held himself poised, just on the brink of total immersion. The tension was exquisite, a silent promise of the release to come.

Then, with a low groan that vibrated deep within his chest, Zoro finally pushed all the way in. A sharp, pleasurable gasp escaped your lips as your body stretched and enveloped him, taking his full length. He filled you completely, a perfect, undeniable fit that made your mind swim. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust, letting both of you simply savor the profound intimacy of being utterly connected.

His eyes, dark and heavy-lidded, met yours, a silent question passing between you. You met his gaze, your own eyes shimmering with desire and a raw, burgeoning love. You tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, conveying your readiness without a single word.

With a deep, guttural sound, Zoro began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, deep and deliberate, each one pulling him almost entirely out before plunging back in, eliciting soft moans and gasps from your lips. The rhythm quickly built, becoming faster, harder, more insistent. The training room, once filled with the clang of swords, now echoed with the sounds of skin on skin, ragged breaths, and the desperate cries of pleasure. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as he drove into you, a powerful, unwavering force.

The rhythm quickly built, becoming faster, harder, more insistent. The training room, once filled with the clang of swords, now echoed with the sounds of skin on skin, ragged breaths, and the desperate cries of pleasure. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on tight as he drove into you, a powerful, unwavering force.

Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through you, building on the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the rigid muscles of his thighs pressing against your legs, the slick slide of his body against yours. He angled his hips, finding a deeper, sweeter spot with every plunge, making you cry out his name, a desperate, pleasured sob.

His head fell to your shoulder, his breath hot against your ear as he buried his face in your hair, letting out a low growl of pure, unadulterated pleasure. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you tighter, driving deeper, faster. You were both lost in the primal dance, a tempest of sensation and raw emotion.

The world outside the training room ceased to exist. There was only the heat, the friction, the rhythmic pounding of his body against yours, driving you both towards an inevitable, explosive climax.

The rhythm intensified, a relentless, exhilarating beat that pushed you to the brink. Your entire body trembled, every nerve ending alive and singing under his powerful strokes. You could feel the pressure building, a delicious ache deep inside, winding tighter and tighter with each thrust. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, holding on as if your life depended on it, your nails scoring faint lines on his heated skin.

Zoro's own groans grew more guttural, more desperate. He lifted his head, his face contorted with a mixture of raw pleasure and fierce concentration, his eyes locked onto yours. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead, and his hair, damp from exertion, clung to his temples. He was pushing you both higher, faster, an unspoken challenge and a desperate plea in his gaze.

"Z-Zoro!" you gasped, your voice breaking, the name a desperate plea on your lips as your vision began to kaleidoscope. The intensity was almost unbearable, a sweet agony that threatened to consume you whole.

With a final, powerful thrust, a deep, shuddering groan tore from his throat. Your body arched, every muscle coiling, and an explosive wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed over you, stealing your breath and sending shivers rippling through every inch of your being. You cried out, a long, drawn-out moan of release as your inner muscles clenched around him, milking his own climax.

He stiffened, his body going rigid against yours, and with a series of powerful, deep thrusts, he followed you over the edge, burying his face in your shoulder, letting out a raw, guttural roar of pure release. His body shuddered against yours, convulsing with the intensity of his orgasm, a profound relief washing over him.

Slowly, the tremors subsided. He collapsed against you, his weight heavy and comforting, his ragged breaths warm against your neck. You clung to him, your own body still vibrating with the aftershocks of pleasure, utterly sated and spent. The training room, once a battleground of physical and emotional struggle, was now quiet, filled only with the sound of two bodies slowly regaining their breath, utterly entangled and irrevocably changed.

As their breaths slowly evened out, the intense rush of their shared climax began to recede, leaving behind a profound sense of peace and a lingering, delicious ache. Zoro lifted his head from your shoulder, his eyes, still heavy-lidded, met yours. The raw desire was still there, but now softened by tenderness and an overwhelming emotion that he could no longer keep silent.

"I... I love you, Y/N," he rasped, his voice rough with emotion, the words tumbling out on a ragged exhale. His thumb gently stroked your cheek, his gaze unwavering, vulnerable in a way you had never seen before.

A profound warmth spread through your chest, eclipsing the lingering physical sensations. It was a warmth born of recognition, of shared vulnerability, and of a love that had been there all along, silently growing.

"I love you too, Zoro," you whispered back, your own voice thick with emotion, the words catching in your throat. You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, tasting the remnants of your shared passion.

In the quiet aftermath, surrounded by the discarded remnants of your clothes and the echoes of their lovemaking, they clung to each other. The fears, the pain, the misunderstandings, all melted away, replaced by the undeniable truth of their feelings. The training room, once a place of conflict, had become the intimate space where two stubborn hearts finally found their way home.

[arixella]

You get hurt and don't tell them' ft. luffy, zoro, sanji

wc: 310 law, ace, sabo shanks, kid, killer crocodil, mihawk, buggy

Monkey D. Luffy

- Luffy isn’t the type to notice subtle things, but he does notice when you’re unusually quiet or less energetic.

-When he finds out you got hurt and didn’t tell him, he gets comically upset, puffing his cheeks and yelling, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

-He insists on you showing him the injury, poking at it curiously (but gently, after you yell at him).

-Luffy then goes full protective mode, staying by your side and making sure you rest properly.

“You don’t have to be tough all the time! That’s my job!” he says with a big grin, pulling you into a tight hug despite your protests about being sore.

Roronoa Zoro

-Zoro is naturally observant when it comes to physical injuries, so it annoys him when he finds out you hid it from him.

-He scolds you in his usual gruff manner: “You’re not made of steel, you know. Stop being reckless.”

-Once he cools off, he quietly makes sure you’re taken care of—he’ll carry you around if needed and might even give you his sake as a peace offering.

-If anyone else caused your injury, they’re going to regret it. Badly.

-Zoro doesn’t say it outright, but he appreciates it when you let him look after you. “Don’t hide stuff from me, idiot,” he mutters while keeping you close.

Sanji

-Sanji immediately notices something is off when you’re hurt, even if you try to hide it. He’s far too attentive.

“You’re walking funny… Did you hurt yourself? Why didn’t you tell me?!” His worry makes him more dramatic than usual.

-Sanji instantly goes into caretaker mode, whipping up meals to help you recover and fussing over you like a doting parent.

-He’s constantly asking if you need anything: “Do you want tea? A blanket? A massage? Just say the word, my love!”

-While his concern might be a bit overbearing, it’s clear how much he cares, especially when he kisses your injury gently and promises to protect you better.

♡♡♡

© 2024 arixella | please do not plagiarize or translate any of my work without my consent.

[yoyomomiko]

I love your writing so much aaaa (⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ

I need the monster trio's reaction to reader calling them "husband", could be an accident or intentional I just need it pls!!!! ( T﹏T )

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: reader is referred to as "wife", mention of suffocating/drowning in sanji's part, not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

wc: 1.3k+

— (a/n): tysm!! <33 i like writing for one piece characters so I love it when I get more requests for them >.< also, so sorry if this feels boring or short!! :(( -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy loves it when you introduce him to new people, but he's usually too distracted to pay attention. Until you call him your husband.

The moment the word leaves your mouth, his face lights up.

He repeats it INSTANTLY, grinning ear to ear. "Husband? That's me, right? You mean me?"

If you try to play it off and say it was a mistake, he ignores your protests and laughs. If he likes it, he likes it. And you're gonna keep calling him that, no matter what!!

He immediately starts calling you "wife" in return, but in the most casual way, like it's completely normal.

He doesn't fully understand what marriage means in a traditional sense, but to him, being your husband means you're his person.

If the crew hears about it, they all would have different reactions. Zoro snorts, Nami fights the urge to roll her eyes, and Sanji almost faints in disbelief.

Luffy, however, is completely unbothered.

If you tell him later that you only said it as a slip up, he just smiles and says "But you could mean it, right?"

He doesn't let it go. He starts using it as an excuse to do things for you. "Husbands have to share their food."

*Cue him stealing from your plate instead*

He loves how you blush when he casually refers to himself as your husband mid conversation.

If you ever genuinely called him that again, he'd get the biggest grin ever and he won't stop talking about it for hours.

He doesn't care about official ceremonies or rings. If you called him your husband once, that's enough for him.

——— ☆

You were introducing the crew to a kind old shopkeeper on an island, someone who had been chatting with you warmly for the past few minutes.

"Oh, and this is my husband, Luffy." You added casually, not even realizing it until the words were already out. You meant captain, not husband. At least that's what you wanted to believe.

Luffy blinked, tilting his head to the side, before a wide grin formed on his lips. "Yeah, that's me, I'm her husband!"

Wait, what? You froze, stiffened, locked in place. Did he seriously just agree?

The shopkeeper chuckled, a warm smile glued to their lips. "Well, aren't you two adorable? How long have you been married for?"

You opened your mouth to correct them, but Luffy beat you to it. "Long enough!" He answered confidently, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

You looked at him, eyes wide, stunned. He just grinned at you, completely unbothered. You sighed, deciding to let it go. For now.

— ZORO

Zoro is not the type to get flustered easily, but calling him your husband? Yeah, that'll do it.

He'd be calm on the outside, but on the inside, he's replaying that moment over and over again.

If you called him that in front of strangers, like introducing him as your husband to avoid weirdos, he'd immediately go along with it.

He doesn't see the need to correct you. If you called him that, then fine. That's what he is now.

If someone asked when you got married, he'll just say "None of your business." and move on.

He secretly enjoys watching you get flustered after realizing what you said, trying to cover it up and say it was just a small mistake.

"Didn't know you were that eager to make it official."

If Sanji overheard, it would be war. "YOU?! HOW DARE YOU–" "Shut up, cook. She said it herself."

He says "cook" as if it's a slur.

If you apologized later for the slip up, he would just simply shrug, saying that it's just some words, but the slight redness on his ears would say otherwise.

He wouldn't bring it up much, but if someone else called him your boyfriend or anything else, he'd correct them. "Husband." No explanation.

Zoro starts to lowkey like the title, but he would NEVER admit it.

He doesn't joke about things like this. If you seriously wanted to be with him in that way, he'd take it 100% seriously.

If you actually bring up the idea of marriage later, he's going to instantly agree.

He starts calling you "wife" just to mess with you!!

——— ☆

You were traveling through a town when an unfamiliar man started hitting on you. He was persistent, and you were quickly running out of patience.

Then, without thinking, you gestured toward Zoro. "Sorry, I'm here with my husband." You sighed as the man's gaze followed the direction you were pointing at.

You immediately regretted it. Zoro turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. The man scowled but backed off, muttering an apology before walking away.

You exhaled in relief, until you felt Zoro's gaze on you.

"Husband, huh?" He muttered, amused.

Your face burned, heart beat quickening. "I just said that to get rid of him."

The corners of Zoro's lips tugged upwards, forming a smirk. "Didn't mind it." He kept walking like nothing happened, leaving you flustered.

— SANJI

Sanji freezes completely the second you call him your husband.

For a split second, he actually imagined it. Being your husband. Starting a family. Then his brain shut down.

If you were introducing him to someone that way, he'd try to act normal, but would fail miserably. "Y-Yes, that's right, I'm her– her– her husband, yes–"

His heart would be racing.

If you called him that to avoid someone flirting with you, he'd immediately play along, but also fall deeply in love with you all over again.

If you told him later it was just a slip up, a small and meaningless mistake, he would dramatically explain the feelings he had in that very second. "For a moment, I lived in paradise."

He would start calling you "my wife" at every opportunity. "Oh, my darling wife, allow me to–" "Sanji, stop."

If someone else flirted with you after that, he's quick to place himself in the middle of you and the other person. "I'm her husband, thanks."

I swear bro this man is SO sassy.

Sanji would start daydreaming about an actual wedding. He also gets more protective than usual, standing a little closer, guiding you with a hand on your back.

If you genuinely meant it, he'd be the happiest man alive.

He swears to be the best husband in the world, treat you amazingly, kiss the ground you walk on.

Sanji will never, ever forget the moment you called him that. The moment you called him your husband. Those words remain imprinted in his mind, locked in a special place.

——— ☆

You were in a crowded restaurant, and the waiter was getting a little bit too flirty for your liking. So, without thinking, you immediately decided to shut him down, but not directly. "My husband will have the same order as me."

Sanji knocked over his glass of water, almost choking as he coughed severely. You turned to see him frozen, eyes wide, face completely red. You groaned, pinching your nose bridge. Here we go...

"Say it again, love." Sanji literally sparkled, practically glowing. His eyes held a childish shine, which you couldn't help but describe as adorable.

You sighed. "It was just–"

"Say it again."

You buried your face in your hands, already feeling your heart beat increasing. Gosh, why did he have to be so handsome?

"Sanji, stop." You mumbled, resting your chin in your palm, elbow propped up on the table.

"My darling wife, please–"

"Sanji I swear that if you don't stop this, I will hold you down underwater and watch you suffocate."

"I wouldn't mind that one bit. Dying by your hands is an honor, sweetheart." He winked, smiling as he leaned in closer, giving you a soft kiss on the lips.

He drove you insane. But in the best way possible.

★yoyomiko ★miko

[shy-writer-999]

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

WARNING: MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

A/N: How would the Monster Trio & Law act while you ride their thigh? What would they say and how would it be initiated? (afab reader~)

Shoutout to the anon who requested this—I was going to do Ace as well but I think that someone (@possiblyreallyme) recently did it better than what I would have been able to come up with, so I’ve linked that here.

Thigh Riding: Monster Trio + Law

ZORO

The first time you ride one of Zoro’s thighs, it’s his idea. He loves to see you get off in any way he can imagine.

“C’mere. On my thigh. I want you to ride it.”

You’re surprised because you’ve never done this before, but he’s been rabidly horny recently and he’s been getting real creative.

His thighs are thick and hairy—the perfect seat. He’s just wearing boxer briefs, so when you lower your barely clothed cunt onto his thigh, you can feel his wiry hair bristle your skin.

His cock twitches when you look at him, poised on his thigh, waiting for instruction.

His hands come to rest on your hips. “Grind on me.”

He knows just what you like best. His goal is to see you dripping wet with pleasure and a hot mess. He has no problem accomplishing that.

He smirks as your rub your sensitive spot on his bare thigh. Friction builds on your core, quickly sending zaps of pleasure from your clit to the rest of your body.

“Getting wet already?”

 As you slide yourself back and forth on his thigh, you start letting out filthy mewls and keens. Your panties are soaked through.

“How does that feel? Are you getting off by just humping my thigh, gorgeous? Must be pretty desperate.”

As you start rutting down into his thigh more frantically, your face twists into an expression of lust. After a handful of minutes, your eyes become glossy and half-lidded, cheeks flushed pink. He grips your hips tighter and pushes his thigh up into your cunt, eliciting a moan.

“Did that feel good? You like rutting your pussy on my thigh that much?”

He’s getting off seeing you hump so needy and pathetically on his thigh. He can feel the precum seeping out of his tip, making a stain on his briefs.

You’re completely lost by now, feverishly fucking his thigh. You’re making a wet mess out of this thigh and your panties are leaking. Your face is contorted with pleasure.

“You wanna cum for me baby? Wanna cum on my thigh?”

You nod and Zoro starts to push his thigh up into your cunt again. It feels so good that you collapse forward onto him as much as you can, your head coming to rest in the cook of his neck. Your core glides over his thigh while you ride him.

A few more squirming humps and a few more jerks of Zoro’s thigh up into your cunt  and you’re brought to your peak. You cum all over his thick thigh; you’re hot and sweaty, and Zoro is about to fuck you into oblivion.

“You ready for my cock now, baby? You want the real thing? God, you’re such a mess. C’mere.”

He lifts you up and you’re straddling him now, his cock pressing at your entrance. He proceeds to fuck you slow and deep until you’re even more of a babbling, fucked-out mess. Then he finally lets you cum on his cock, and you return the favor by letting him cum inside of you.

LUFFY

You’re cuddling with Luffy, legs entangled. You’re half asleep and Luffy is too.

His thigh is pressing on your crotch, and when he adjusts it, he inadvertently grinds his knee on your clit.

You let out a soft sound, kind of like a moan but not as intense. He does it again a few more times and you grab a fistful of his shirt. “Luffy.”

The idea hits him like lightning. He scoops you up from where you’re laying together and sits up, placing you on his thigh.

He’s already hard, and as you blink the sleep out of your eyes, you pull him into a kiss. You feel his thigh under your panties and instinctively start grinding back and forth on it.

“How does that feel?” He asks in all sincerity, and you respond back with a moan “feels good”. He’s always curious about what gets you off—he thinks its hot to see you get flustered and needy.

“Fuck Luffy, it feels so good.”

“Well keep going.” He’s all smiles like usual, his hands on your hips, but his voice is getting gruffer. He notices how wet you’re getting.

He’s getting harder by the minute. Something about seeing you get off on his thigh, of all things, is about to drive him feral.

He gets the idea to move his thigh up and down—maybe it will make you feel even better. He likes to see you in bliss like this, it makes him want to rip all your clothes off and fuck you senseless.

He’s holding off on touching himself right now because he’s too entranced by you haphazardly crashing your cunt on his thigh.

When you finally cum climax on his thigh, he picks you up and puts his cock in you. His voice is strained and husky. “My turn.”

He fucks you until your eyes roll back in your head. Luffy can go round after round, no problem. You riding his thigh was the perfect appetizer to his main meal—cumming in you no less than three times. By the end of it you’re seeing stars and he’s grunting and groaning in your ear.

SANJI

cw: instance of “pretty girl” and “needy girl”

Sanji thinks it’s so fucking hot that you want to ride his thigh.

You ask sheepishly and he becomes so excited he practically throws you over his knee.

The idea that you’re using him any part of him to get off makes him feel like he’s going crazy with desire.

He loves to feel your weight on his thigh. It makes him feel like he’s holding you, like you’re close together, like he’s supporting you in some way (which, technically, he is). It reminds him of when you sit on his face, and he’s hard just thinking about it.

He literally loves you so much that his heart melts any time you look at him. He blushes crimson and attends to your every want and need.

Can’t overstate how excited he was to have you straddling his thigh.

When you start dragging your clit back and forth on his thigh, his heart skips a beat. He thinks you’re gorgeous and is intoxicated by your presence.

He just adores you and it’s apparent in his voice. He sweet talks you as you desperately start writhing on his thigh.

He’s almost breathless. “Wow.”

“Just like that my love.”

When the angle is right, he’ll pull your face near his and caress your cheek with his thumb. He pulls you into delicate kisses, kisses your neck, and swipes his thumb over your lips.

“Pretty girl so worked up riding my thigh.” His grip tightens on your hips as he gets more aroused. He was already rock hard when he initially put you on his thigh, and by now his erection is raging against his pants.

“You’re getting my thigh so wet, beautiful. So fucking hot.”

He coaches and praises you through it. He calls you lovely things and uses his hands to slow down the pace of your thrusts. He wants you to ride him slowly until you’re begging him to let you go faster.

“Mmm, you wish it was my cock instead, angel?”

Your cunt throbs and pulses as you increase the pressure on his thigh—your whines and keens go straight to his dick.

He occasionally reaches a hand up to smooth down your hair and pet your hair and cheeks. He’s so obsessed with you it’s absurd.

“So wet for me, baby. Does it feel good?” He coos in your ear, and it gives you goosebumps.

Sanji starts to bounce his thigh until you’re literally drooling with pleasure. "Go faster now, my love. Go faster." Your thighs start to shake and your slick is oozing on his thighs.

“You look so gorgeous right now. Rutting all over my thighs, needy girl. I’ll fix you up just right, but I want you to cum before I fuck you. Okay?”

When you finally cum, he gives you more sloppy kisses. He picks you up by your waist and hips, carries you to the bed, and fucks you in missionary. Sanji does all the work—think of it as a sort of reward for riding his thigh.

LAW

Law lowkey makes you ride his thigh.

You give him bedroom eyes and he knows immediately that you want him to rail you.

Law says no—sometimes he likes seeing you whine and beg for it.

Obviously, he gets immediately aroused at the thought of you pleading for his cock but today he wants something else.

“You really want it? I’m gonna need a little convincing today.”

You think that he just wants you to give him head, but he simply crosses his arms and says “that’s not what I meant.”

When you ask him what he did mean, he tells you take off your pants and straddle his thigh.

“If you want me to fuck you so bad, you’re going to work for it, sweetheart.”

You’re confused as fuck and half naked. He tells you to put your hands on his shoulders, and then he puts his hands on your waist.

“What are you waiting for?” His look is deadpan, his tone is annoyed and cold, but behind those breath-taking eyes you see a fire roaring. You’re not quite sure what he means, but you’re willing to do anything if it means that he’ll put his cock in you later.

Law starts to bounce his knee and you immediately get the memo.

“Law, you want me to get off on your thigh? That’s embarrassing.”

“I don’t care what it is. Now move.”

He uses his leverage on your waist to push you down on his thigh while he bounces his knee. Your initial confusion is quickly thrown to the side as the friction on your clit builds.

Heat starts to pool in your core.

After a few moments of rubbing your throbbing cunt back and forth on Law’s thigh, your panties start to saturate. You can see that Law is hard already.

When you start letting out needy puffs of breath and muted whines, Law can’t help himself. He wants to see you as worked up as he can.

“Pick up the pace, beautiful. Show me how badly you want it.” Law purrs, his voice is deep. He’s trying to conceal how starving he is for your pleasure. He needs to keep himself in control so he can see you just how he wants you.

You start to rut your hips faster, dragging your sopping wet panties and humping his thigh. You’re so wet that it’s seeping through his pants.

“Law, I want it.” You're begging.

“And what would that be?”

“Your cock. In me. Please Law.”

“Is that so? You’ll have to make do with this. I’ll fuck you after you cum.”

He smirks. You didn’t take long to get this desperate.

He bounces his thigh again and you start moaning his name—that heat and need building on your core are ready to explode.

“Are you going to cum on my thigh or what?”

He pushes your hips down forcefully and bounces his leg harder. It hits your clit and folds just right.

You cum aggressively, basically screaming his name. Your fingernails dig into his shoulders. It’s an overwhelming, all-encompassing feeling of pleasure. Unreal.

His bulge presses on his pants, painfully tight, and he knows that he’s about to fuck you until you can’t talk anymore.

“That’s more like it. Now take those off panties and let me put my cock in you.”

---

(´ ᴗ｀✿)

that’s all for this one :3 here's my masterlist if you're curious! and here's the initial request/my response~

ohoho? thigh riding, you say? >:3c may I request some headcanons of that with characters of your choice?

woooow anon thank u sm for this, this was amazing to write because I have a burning passionate love for man thighs. They are among my favorite things… I think I have a fetish for them or smth because I really really like them, could stare at a nice hairy thick pair of thighs for literal hours. >///<

[st4rpiece]

sleeping separately after an argument pt. 1

SFW

characters: luffy, zoro, usopp, and sanji x fem! reader summary: how the strawhat boys would react to you sleeping alone after an argument CW: mainly fluff, slight angst others: not proofread, lowercase intended, and pictures found on pinterest

—————

Monkey D. Luffy

luffy doesn't handle conflict well, especially not one with someone he cares deeply about. after the argument you guys had earlier, he would never suspected that you would sleep else where for the night.

at first, he would brush it off, thinking you just needed some space and that you would return to your shared room soon. but, as the night wore on, he'd find himself restless. constantly tossing and turning unable to lay as comfortably as before now that he was alone. luffy would eventually get up and wander over to your old room.

knowing him he’d poke your face (gently of course) while whispering, "hey, are you still mad at me?" his big eyes would reflect genuine concern and confusion. but because you were asleep you couldn’t respond, so he would get into your bed and curl up next to you, determined to be close even if you were still upset. you’d wake up the next day to a goofy grin and a sincere apology, as he was eager to make things right.

Roronoa Zoro

arguments with zoro are often intense but short-lived. so when you decide to sleep separately after a fight, zoro (like luffy) would be taken aback. however he, unlike luffy, would initially be too proud to go after you. so instead he’d brood silently, replaying the argument in his head while sharpening his swords.

you were the dramatic one. right?

as the night deepened, his stoic façade would crack, causing the gnawing sense of regret to seep in. he’d eventually get up, quietly making his way to your old room.

“babe?” his voice was uncharacteristically soft cautiously enters the room. after seeing your sleeping figure his demeanor immediately softens.

without a word, he'd lie down on the floor next to your bed, his presence a silent apology. he would wake up before you like usual but after breakfast he would pull you aside giving you a gruff but sincere apology, his actions speaking louder than his words.

God Ussop

usopp is sensitive and prone to overthinking. after any argument, he'd probably be filled with anxiety and self-doubt. which would worsen after you decide to sleep separately. he'd pace around, muttering to himself and crafting elaborate scenarios in his head of what this could mean.

is this it?

do you not love him anymore?

were you going to break up with him?

eventually, he'd muster the courage to approach you, armed with a heartfelt speech. ready to kneel beside you and pour his heart out with the promise to do better. but after walking to your old room and seeing you sleep so soundly his resolve would soften. not wanting to wake you he would leave telling himself that he’d apologize in the morning.

instead of going to bed though he would go to his factory deciding to make you a small gift to show his sincerity. he would place that along with a short an apology letter by your door. hoping to give you a better apology in the morning.

Vinsmoke Sanji

sanji would be devastated if you chose to sleep separately after an argument. unlike usopp, he wouldn’t overthink it. he knows you love him just needed some space. despite thinking that, he would never let you go to sleep upset especially not at him.

so he'd spend the majority of the night in the kitchen, preparing ingredients for tomorrow and making you a midnight snack.

with a tray of food on hand he’d softly knocks on the door of your old bedroom, his voice both gentle and cautious. “my love? i brought food. can i come in so we can talk?”

your lights were on so he knew you were up, after waiting for a minute or so he would let out a relieved sigh as you opened the door and making room for him to enter.

you guys would spend the rest of the night talking about your argument except this time with a much clearer head. once he knew that you both were on the same page he would bring you back to your share room to sleep.

—————

hi guys! thanks for reading, this is my first attempt at writing hc so idk if i did it right lol but it was fun!! i also have a couple more characters in my draft using this idea. i’ll post them if this does well (fingers crossed).

part 2 is posted!!

[arkaiveofurown]

he overheard you saying you love him

Pairings: Sabo x Reader, Ace x Reader, Law x Reader, and Zoro x Reader

Word Count: ~1,000 - 2,000 words each character

tags: pre-relationship, fluff, confession

my masterlist here ♡

——-

Sabo

You weren’t sure when it had started.

Maybe during that first mission with Sabo—when he pulled you out of a collapsing tunnel with smoke in his lungs and soot in his hair. Or maybe it was the way he looked at you during meetings, when everyone else spoke over each other and his eyes quietly sought yours like they were the only steady thing in the room.

Regardless, you’d never told him.

Instead, you wrote letters. Quiet, aching, folded-up things in the corners of notebooks and between pages of Revolutionary Army maps. Pages filled with things you could never say aloud. Sometimes it was just a sentence. Sometimes full confessions. But you never gave them to him. You didn’t need to. Writing them was enough.

Tonight, the base was quiet. Outside, a soft breeze shifted through the trees, and the only sound in your room was the scratch of your pen.

You were curled up at your desk, writing again. Candlelight flickered beside you. You didn’t hear the knock. You didn’t notice the door creak open.

“Y/N?”

You jolted. “Koala—!”

She froze in the doorway. Her eyes dropped to the open page on your desk before you could hide it.

“Wait. What is that?”

“Nothing.” You slammed the notebook shut, your voice too sharp.

Koala blinked. Then her eyes narrowed.

“…That’s your handwriting.”

“So?”

She stepped in, shutting the door behind her. “So that was definitely Sabo’s name.”

You groaned. “Koala—please.”

She raised a brow. “Is that a letter to him?”

You turned away. “It’s not for him. I mean—it is, but—I wasn’t gonna give it to him.”

A beat of silence passed.

“…You’ve written more than one, haven’t you.”

You didn’t answer.

She came closer, her voice gentler now. “Y/N.”

Your shoulders dropped.

“It’s just… easier to write it than say it,” you whispered.

Koala sat on the edge of your bed. “You really like him, don’t you?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. I do.”

Your voice cracked a little when you said it. You didn’t even mean to. You covered your mouth, eyes burning suddenly with tears you hadn’t expected.

You hated this—how hard it was to hold it all in sometimes.

“I like him so much it hurts,” you confessed. “And he doesn’t even know.”

Another voice answered:

“Yes. I do.”

⸻

Your head whipped toward the door.

Sabo stood there, hand still on the knob. He looked as if he’d frozen in place. Behind him, the hall was dark—he’d come alone. No footsteps, no warning. Just his silhouette framed in low light.

You stared. “Sabo—?”

He stepped in slowly. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I came to return Koala’s map notes. I wasn’t—” He cut off, brow furrowed, and looked at you. “You really meant it?”

Your throat felt tight. “I—I didn’t know you were listening.”

“I was,” he said softly. “Every word.”

You turned to Koala, but she was already slipping out the door with a sheepish shrug. “Sorry!” she mouthed before vanishing.

Now it was just the two of you.

“I didn’t plan to say that,” you said, voice trembling. “I just… It’s been a long time. I’ve been trying to keep it in.”

Sabo’s steps were slow. Careful.

“How long?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “Since Baltigo.”

“That long?”

You nodded.

He moved closer. You felt him pause just beside you.

“…Why didn’t you tell me?”

You hesitated. “Because we’re in the middle of a war, Sabo. And you’re important. And brave. And reckless. And always getting yourself into danger—”

“That’s not a reason not to tell me.”

You looked at him then.

His eyes were soft. No teasing, no judgment. Just that same steady, thoughtful Sabo you’d always known—only now closer than he’d ever felt before.

“I was scared it would ruin everything,” you said quietly.

He gave a small, almost broken laugh. “I’ve been scared of that too.”

You blinked. “What?”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve liked you for a long time, Y/N.”

You stared, stunned.

He gave a small, sheepish shrug. “I never wrote letters or anything, but… if I had, I probably would’ve filled a hundred pages by now.”

Your breath caught. “You really mean that?”

He looked away, ears turning red. “Yeah. Every word.”

A laugh broke from your lips—half disbelief, half relief. “You idiot.”

He looked back at you with a faint smirk. “Says the one who actually wrote letters.”

You let out a shaky laugh.

And suddenly it felt all real.

——

A few days later, Sabo knocked on your door. When you opened it, he was holding something out.

Your notebook.

“The one with the letters,” he said with a grin.

Your eyes widened. “Where did you—?!”

“I didn’t read them,” he promised. “I swear. But… if you want me to, I will.”

You stared.

Then you reached out—and flipped to the last page. Your handwriting was still there. The ink fresh. The one you’d been writing the night he overheard.

You tore it out, folded it neatly, and handed it to him.

He blinked. “Just this one?”

“For now.”

He looked at it like it was something precious. “Can I read it in front of you?”

You nodded.

He opened it slowly.

You watched his eyes move across the page—watched the flicker of a smile, the subtle shift of his expression. By the time he finished, he was quiet.

Then, carefully, he looked at you.

“Do you want a letter too?”

You blinked. “You’d write one?”

He leaned in, closer than ever before. “I’d write one every day.”

And when he kissed you, it felt like the answer to every unsent word you’d ever written.

——

Ace

It was a quiet afternoon on the Moby Dick. The sun hung lazily above the sea, casting golden warmth over the deck. Laughter echoed faintly from the other side of the ship, but Ace wasn’t with the others. He sat alone near the back, arms crossed over his knees, a troubled expression clouding his usually bright face.

He’d overheard a few new crewmates whispering—again.

“Roger’s son, huh? No wonder he’s so reckless.”

“I still don’t get why Whitebeard lets him wear the mark.”

Their voices replayed in his head, sharp as knives. No matter how far he came, how hard he fought, those words always lingered. Was he just his father’s shadow? Was he even supposed to exist?

You found yourself talking to Marco later as you leaned against the rail, eyes watching the horizon.

“You think Ace is okay?” you asked softly.

Marco raised a brow. “You’ve been watching him all day.”

You hesitated, then sighed. “He always looks like he’s trying to prove something. Like he doesn’t believe he’s enough. I just wish he’d let himself feel… loved.”

“You’re in love with him, huh?” Marco said with a smirk.

You didn’t even deny it.

“Yes. I love him.” Your voice dropped. You hadn’t noticed Ace was nearby—standing still behind the corner, frozen as the words sank in.

——

Ace kept tossing fire between his fingers like nothing happened, but his heartbeat wouldn’t slow down. She loves me? The words played over and over in his head.

He approached casually, as if he hadn’t just overheard something that shook him to his core.

“What are you two whispering about?” he asked, flopping down beside you, a teasing grin on his face.

You jumped a little. “Ace! Uh—nothing really. Just… talking.”

Marco snorted and walked off, giving you two space.

Ace tilted his head, pretending to look bored. “Sounded like something deep.”

You hesitated, then offered him a gentle look. “I just… worry about you sometimes.”

His smile faltered slightly. “You don’t have to.”

“But I do,” you insisted. “You’re always trying to be the strongest, the most reliable… You don’t need to carry it all alone.”

He didn’t answer right away. His eyes dropped to his hands.

“Sometimes I wonder if I should’ve been born at all,” he said quietly, voice barely audible over the waves.

Your heart clenched. “Ace…”

“I hear the things people say. About my father. About me. It never really stops.”

You touched his arm gently. “You’re not your father.”

He glanced up at you, eyes guarded.

“You’re you, Ace. I care about you because of who you are—not because of your name, and definitely not in spite of it.”

⸻

Ace couldn’t sleep that night. He paced the deck in the dark, wrestling with your words. He’d heard so many lies in his life. So many people who wanted something because of the blood in his veins—or wanted nothing to do with him because of it.

But your voice was different.

He found you in the galley, wrapping up a late-night snack. You turned, surprised.

“Ace? You okay?”

He looked… unsure. And for someone like Ace, that was rare.

“I heard what you said to Marco earlier,” he admitted, leaning against the doorway.

You froze, eyes wide. “You… you did?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled, but it was hollow. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… kinda happened.”

You shifted awkwardly. “Well… I meant it.”

He looked at you like he was seeing you for the first time.

“I’m not my father, Y/N. But sometimes I think people only ever see him when they look at me. Like I’m just waiting to become him.”

You walked up to him, eyes soft.

“You’re not him. You never will be.”

Ace stared at you, caught in the sincerity of your gaze.

“I love you,” you said, voice steady. “Not because you’re Gol D. Roger’s son. Not because you’re Whitebeard’s commander. But because you’re Ace. And that’s enough.”

Ace stared at you, his eyes flickering with something raw and real. Then he leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love you, Y/N,” he breathed. “Not just because you see me… but because when you do, I finally feel like I deserve to be here.”

Your heart swelled as you wrapped your arms around him.

“You do, Ace. You always have.”

And for once, he let himself believe it.

——

Law

The Polar Tang was unusually quiet that evening, save for the hum of the ocean against the hull. You sat in the galley with Shachi and Penguin, half-listening to them banter while organizing mission notes. A familiar name drifted into the conversation.

“I’m just saying,” Shachi smirked, “if Captain has a secret admirer, it’s gotta be someone on board. Who else could handle that grump 24/7?”

“Yeah, right. Can you imagine anyone confessing to Law?” Penguin snorted.

Your hand froze over the page, heart thudding. You gave a weak chuckle, trying to stay casual.

“…I think he’s different than people think,” you said quietly.

The two fell silent, glancing at each other before looking back at you. “Different how?” Shachi asked.

You stared down at your notes, unsure why you were still speaking. “He’s cold sometimes, yeah, but there’s a reason. He’s… carrying a lot. But underneath that, he’s kind. Steady. I admire him. I love him, actually.”

You didn’t notice the door slightly ajar—or the shadow that had paused just outside. Law, on his way to the infirmary, heard every word. He didn’t move. Just stood there, stunned, your voice echoing quietly in his chest like a scalpel carving into old scar tissue.

——

Later that night, you found yourself sitting near the back of the ship, watching the stars shimmer through the porthole. You didn’t expect company—until his footsteps neared.

“Working late?” Law asked, standing behind you.

You turned, startled. “Oh. Hey. Yeah. Just… couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t sit. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and added, “Neither could I.”

You nodded slowly. There was something unusual in his gaze—measured, intense. Like he was holding back words with every breath.

“I heard you,” he said bluntly. “In the galley.”

Your heart stopped. “What?”

He didn’t look away. “You said you loved me.”

The silence stretched long between you. Your breath caught in your throat.

“I didn’t mean for you to—”

“You meant it though,” Law interrupted. “Didn’t you?”

“…Yeah,” you whispered. “I did.”

He stepped forward. Just one step, but it felt like a line being crossed. His voice softened. “Why?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

“Why me?” His tone was flat, but his eyes betrayed the storm behind them. “Why would anyone… love me?”

You swallowed hard. “You’re strong. Not just in power—emotionally. You always show up. You carry so much but never drop any of it. And you… you protect people. You saved me more than once, Law. You care, even when you act like you don’t.”

He looked away sharply.

“You don’t have to earn it,” you added quietly. “Love doesn’t work like that.”

His breath hitched.

Law didn’t answer for a long time. Then, quietly:

“You sound like him.”

You blinked. “Who?”

He sat down at last, elbows on his knees, eyes far away. “Corazon. He told me once, I didn’t need a reason to be loved. That someone could love me just because.”

“…He was right.”

Law’s hand twitched. “I hated hearing it back then. Thought it was a lie. After he died… I convinced myself I wasn’t meant for that kind of thing. Not after what I did to survive.”

You looked at him—truly looked. His jaw was tense, but his shoulders were slumped like someone carrying too many ghosts.

“Sengoku told me, after everything… that Corazon loved me like family. And I kept asking myself why. Why me? Why would he care so much? I’ve been so bad to him. Even now, I still don’t know.”

Law leaned back against the wall, head tilted up toward the ceiling.

“You know,” he said, “I used to think if I kept everything locked up, it wouldn’t hurt. That if no one knew what I felt, no one could use it against me.”

“That’s a lonely way to live,” you whispered.

“It was.” His voice was quieter now. “Until you.”

You inhaled sharply, heart catching in your throat.

“I’ve been watching you too, Y/N. I always noticed when you sat closer during meals. Or brought coffee when I was holed up for hours. You always knew when to say something—and when not to.”

He looked over at you now, eyes unreadable but softer than you’d ever seen.

“You’re not a secret I want to keep locked away anymore.”

The words hit you like a wave. “Law…”

He stood slowly, stepped in front of you, and reached out—hesitating just for a breath—before his fingers gently cupped your face.

“I’m not good at this,” he said. “But I want to try. With you.”

Your eyes stung with tears you hadn’t realized were forming. “You’re already doing just fine.”

His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, then fuller, deeper. You melted into him, and he kissed you like someone who finally let the gates fall. When he pulled away, he stayed close, forehead resting against yours.

“No more secrets,” he whispered.

——

Zoro

The fight had been brutal. Zoro, despite his immense strength and endurance, had taken a hit he couldn’t recover from quickly. Blood stained his clothes, and the crew had rushed to stabilize him, quickly patching him up as best they could on the ship.

You were a wreck. Despite being part of the crew for so long, despite the battles, seeing him hurt like this… it was too much for you to handle. You were pacing back and forth near the medical room, your heart in your throat as your mind raced with worst-case scenarios. Nami and Robin stood nearby, trying to comfort you, but nothing could settle the growing panic inside.

“I—I can’t do this,” you muttered, wiping away the fresh tears that had formed. “What if—what if he doesn’t make it?”

Robin placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, her voice soothing, but there was an undercurrent of concern there too. “Zoro’s strong. He’s not going anywhere.”

But you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t stop worrying, couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Your chest ached at the thought of him not making it through this.

Nami’s voice, usually so steady, was now quieter, though there was still a reassuring edge. “You need to calm down. He’s tough. Zoro will pull through.”

But no matter how much they tried to comfort you, the fear was too overwhelming. You couldn’t stop thinking about the worst outcome—what it would be like to lose him. How he was always so strong, always so dependable, and yet, this time, you weren’t sure it would be enough.

“Please,” you whispered through your sobs, barely audible but full of pain. “Please don’t leave me, Zoro. I love you… I love you so much. I can’t lose you.”

You didn’t realize how loudly you’d said it. You were too caught up in the panic, in the fear of losing him, that the words just spilled out without thinking.

In the shadows of the hallway, hidden from your view, Zoro had heard everything. He had been leaning against the doorframe, trying to muster the strength to stand up on his own after the injury, when your words reached him. At first, he wasn’t sure if he’d heard you correctly. But when you repeated it, in that broken, desperate tone, he felt the weight of your confession hit him like a freight train.

He stood there, frozen for a long moment, a strange mix of emotions swirling within him. His heart thudded in his chest, and for a moment, everything felt overwhelming—more so than the injury itself.

——

Zoro had managed to make his way to the deck quietly, not wanting to disturb you. He needed a moment to process what he’d heard. But it wasn’t just the words that had shaken him—it was how much they revealed. How deeply you cared, how much you were hurting, how afraid you were for him.

He’d always known you cared for him. You had always been there for him, quietly supporting him, and he’d grown fond of your presence more than he ever intended. But hearing it like this, in a moment of vulnerability, brought something to the surface that he had spent so long suppressing.

The wound on his side throbbed painfully, but it wasn’t the physical pain that weighed him down. It was your words. The quiet admission that you loved him. Zoro leaned against the railing, trying to clear his head, but the ache in his chest wasn’t going away.

Meanwhile, you had secluded yourself in your room. The crew had calmed down enough to leave you some space, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Zoro. You kept replaying the words over and over in your head, cursing yourself for letting them slip. You didn’t want to burden him.

But what if he didn’t feel the same? The uncertainty gnawed at you, and you hugged your knees to your chest, your face buried in your arms.

——

It wasn’t long before there was a knock at your door. You didn’t want to face anyone, but the soft voice that called your name made you hesitate.

“Y/N? It’s me. Can I come in?”

Your heart jumped in your chest. You didn’t have to ask who it was. You stood and opened the door to find Zoro standing there, looking tired but determined. His clothes were stained with blood, and his usual carefree posture was slightly off, but there was something in his eyes that made you freeze.

“You shouldn’t be up yet,” you said, voice cracking. “You’re injured. You need rest.”

Zoro smirked, but there was no usual arrogance in it—just a tired, soft kind of affection. “I’m fine. I’m not the type to stay in bed when I’m still breathing.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Zoro cut you off before you could speak.

“Listen,” he began, his voice uncharacteristically gentle, “you don’t need to apologize for what you said earlier.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Zoro, I didn’t—”

“Don’t deny it.” Zoro took a step closer, his hand reaching out and gently lifting your chin so that your eyes met. “I heard you.”

You swallowed, heart racing. His gaze was intense, but it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t distant. It was something more—something you hadn’t dared to hope for. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t want to make you feel awkward.”

Zoro’s fingers brushed lightly against your skin, his touch warm and reassuring. “You don’t have to apologize. I just—” he hesitated, his usual tough exterior faltering for just a moment, “I need to say it too.”

You blinked, your heart thumping painfully in your chest. “Say what?”

Zoro’s eyes softened, his usual guarded nature slipping just slightly. “I’ve known for a while now. I’ve just been too stubborn to admit it to myself. But I care about you too. I think… I think I love you.”

The words hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. You were both standing there, both finally facing what had always been there but had remained unsaid.

“I—I love you too, Zoro,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I was just too scared to say it.”

Zoro’s lips tugged into a faint, almost shy smile. Then, without another word, he closed the distance between you and kissed you softly, his hand still gently holding your face. The kiss was slow, tender, filled with everything that had been left unspoken for so long.

When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath shaky. “I’m not going anywhere. Not if you’ll have me.”

And at that moment, everything fell into place.

——

a/n: my first ever multi-character fic phew that’s challenging! haha hope you guys like it ♡ feedbacks are greatly appreciated xoxo

[clare-875]

Distraction or Devotion (Zoro x Reader)

_____ Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x Female Reader Summary: You think your love is one-sided, but is it? Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Jealous Zoro, Soft Zoro, Alcohol A/N: Been obsessed with Zoro lately 😅 [One Piece Masterlist] _____

You were transfixed by him.

Roronoa Zoro.

He had found his way into your heart and had taken the undue liberty to consume all of its devotion. You didn't know how friendship had morphed so suddenly into the hopes of something more, but that was the predicament you found yourself in now.

What had started as general respect for the other had turned into sparing sessions, light bickering and laughter, drinking and confiding in the other. The days spent at sea spared you much time to get to know the green-haired swordsman, no matter how rigid he stood behind his walls. You chipped and chipped away at them until he let you in on small details, let you pull laughter from him and let you linger in his presence.

The bond you both shared was built on loyalty and an undying trust forged through time and trial. You knew to him, you were a rare individual: one he trusts, one he protects, a comrade and a friend. But to you, the more you chipped away at his walls, the more you got to know the man, stoic and strong and silent, the more he crashed through your own borders and delved straight into your heart.

To you, he was everything, but everything you were so sure you could not have.

"Oi, [y/n], you're zoning out again."

Your eyes snap upwards, and you are met with the sight of Zoro, his sharp eyes on you as he lifts an ungodly amount of weight back and forth over his head, mimicking the movements of his swords. Both of you were out on deck, the only crewmembers that lingered outdoors apart from Luffy, who was somewhere on the figurehead.

"I'm sorry, were you desperate for my attention?"

You tease as you go back to the duty of polishing his swords, a frequent task you found yourself undertaking, but one you did not take lightly. You knew how much Zoro treasured his swords, how much worth was forged upon their blades. They lay heavy in your hands: heavy with responsibility and the weight of Zoro's trust. You didn't know of anyone else he would allow to even breathe near his swords, let alone touch them.

The thought of that made your heart warm.

"Shouldn't you be focusing on your training?"

"Tch, whatever woman, I only said something cause you looked like you were about to fall asleep on the blade. Next time I'll just watch it happen."

You roll your eyes, but a smile lingers on your face as your eyes meet his. The sun had fallen, just mingling with the ocean as it delved deeper into the Earth, bringing forth warm lights that traced the muscles on Zoro's skin. His irises swim in the fervour of the lights, and you swear you see something deep within as he abruptly breaks away from your gaze, the pink on his cheeks surely from his workout and nothing more.

Nothing more, right?

There is more silence as Zoro shifts his focus to his weights once more, the rhythm of his training the only sound that touches the cooling air, until you decide to break the quiet.

"Hey, Zoro..."

You murmur, eyes locked on the blade carefully placed in your lap and the cloth that delicately traces it until you see your own unwavering reflection.

"Yeah?" Zoro grunts as he brings down the weights towards the deck.

"Have you ever thought about love before?"

There is abruptly the seizing of movement, but when your eyes travel upwards again to meet his, he merely looks at you incredulously.

"What kind of question is that?"

You grin at his expression, but continue on, nonchalantly, despite the way your heart pounds against your chest at your own boldness.

"Oh, come on, Zoro. You've never been tempted? I can't count on my hands the number of times women have literally fallen at your feet. Beautiful women, too good for you, of course, but nonetheless."

A beat of silence, and he answers.

"Nope, never thought about it."

His words are blunt, and he continues his training as though nothing was said. You can't deny the slight disappointment that filled you at his abrupt words. But you decide to push a bit more. You want to know more, more of what he thought about you. If you had a chance, if another claimed his heart, if his words were true.

"Really? What about Tashigi? She even knows her way around a sword, you know-"

"Nope."

"Perona? You guys literally spent two years together-"

"So? Still no."

"Hiyori? You two seemed all cosied up-"

"No."

You roll your eyes, unsure as to why your heart starts to feel heavy even as he rejects women you were so sure he could sweep off their feet. Maybe it was the lack of interest in the topic of relationships. Maybe it was the voice in the back of your mind mocking your hopes that he would turn around and say he would choose you instead.

"Nami, Robin??"

You ask, a teasing tone in your words despite the smile that strains on your cheeks.

"What? No way, they're crewmates-"

"You've actually never been tempted? They're literally all so perfect."

You sit in slight disbelief, analysing his expression, but his gaze does not falter, and he reveals nothing. If anything, you witness the tightening of his jaw as he moves to a silent rhythm. You wonder if you have pushed the topic too far.

"It's nothing against them, I have a responsibility and a goal. To become the world's strongest swordsman and to see Luffy become the pirate king. I don't have time for distractions."

His words are blunt to you as they are confirming. You allow the silence to consume the space between the two of you for a moment longer, and yet your heart twists unbearably.

He doesn't have time for distractions.

Of course, he doesn't.

You had witnessed more than anyone the way he trained from daybreak to sundown, every minute for the dream he held, and in support of Luffy's ambitions. What time could he spare for relationships, for women? He already had so much on his mind, so much responsibility on his back. And yet, a question leaves your lips before you can stop yourself.

"Not even time for me?"

You whisper, but Zoro misses your words, his eyes trained on his weights, the crease between his brows a show of his concentration, but the glint in his eyes, one that unravels frustration.

Why? Maybe this conversation was one he did not wish to partake in.

"Did you say something?"

Zoro's words touch the air once more, as sunlight travels his face until it lies static as he meets your gaze again.

"Nothing," you say, more dejected than anything else, despite knowing you should feel unsurprised. You watch as he continues his workout, the air solemn as you let out a quiet sigh, unsure why your heart feels so heavy despite a lack of rejection.

You supposed it was the lack of recognition that had done it.

In-tune crew members had already witnessed your gravitation towards the swordsman, but it was clear to you that your affections were not recognised, nor could they be considered anything beyond friendship by Zoro. Though stupidly relieved to know that he did not have a favourite among the women you listed, you felt stupid in your hopes that maybe, just maybe, you were his favourite.

That he recognised that the way you polish his swords as you do now wasn't out of mere generosity but deep-rooted admiration and care. The way you saved a seat for him beside you at dinner wasn't out of mere friendship but out of hope to get to know him more. The way you seek him out and spend hours by his side, even when there is nothing to be said, was from a yearning to be beside him for as long as he would let you be.

You loved him.

Roronoa Zoro.

Loved the way he would smirk when he teased you to the point where you were sure to combust. Loved the way he is so protective of crewmates in battles, his strength and loyalty unmatched. You loved the way he was so unwavering in his values, so predictable in the best of ways. Loved the way that he cared and was kind, no matter how hard he tried to keep up the tough-guy facade. You loved the quiet moments stolen with him, the way his eyes would soften in the presence of you and the presence of crewmates, the faint smile he bears when he has had too much to drink.

Loved the way he would listen quietly.

Loved the way he ruffled your hair.

Loved the way he searched for you after battles.

You loved him.

But as you watch his devotion to his swords, to Luffy and to his crew. Deep down, you had resigned yourself to knowing that you could never be anything more than a friend. No princess, swordswoman or model could turn his head. How could you?

What did you offer that they didn't?

Emotion fills you suddenly, but you force it away, scolding yourself and quickly finishing off the last of your task. Zoro releases his hold on his weights, stretching lightly as he readies another workout, but he is surprised as you stand and go to walk away.

"Hey, you okay?"

He asks, and you hate the way your heart lurches at his concern, the way you can feel his eyes burning into your back.

"Yeah, I just promised Sanji I'd help him for dinner, I'll see you later!"

Your words are as cheerful as you forced them to be, wandering towards the kitchen unseeingly. You don't see the way Zoro's brows furrow in his confusion, the twitching of his hands as though he wants to stop you and ask why you would indulge in the cook's company over his own. But he merely nods and continues his training.

You merely walk away.

.....

A week has passed, and you didn't know what you were doing.

Were you moving on? But from what exactly?

Exploring other opportunities? Maybe, but why?

You weren't rejected.

Didn't have the hammer beat down on your budding devotion to the swordsman. You were just provided an unspoken resignation by his words.

"I don't have time for distractions."

Like, ever? Was that long-term, short-term, or were you even a card in his hands that he would play?

You were confused and downtrodden, but you were also tired.

One-sided love.

So focused on possibilities and what-ifs, you had forgotten how exhausting it can be. How burdenous longing can be. How the dichotomy of your mind and of your heart can feel like you're being torn in two. Was that dramatic? Maybe a tad. But you now realise how long you have loved Zoro, the years you spent by his side. How can you teach yourself to let go, even a little bit, to seek distance so that if he does choose to reject you in the future, you are not utterly shattered?

You hate that you still hope.

Hope that because you had not named yourself, and because he had not rejected you, that you still had a chance, even if it was years down the line. You grit your teeth as you take a rough swing of your beverage, alcohol burning as you force it down your throat, trying to quieten your mind, trying to forget your feelings.

"Hey, slow down, it's not water, you know?"

And there it is, the provocative tone in his words. The glint of amusement in his sharp eyes as he catches your gaze. The swordsman laughs at your distasteful expression as he downs his second bottle of the night.

"I know that, but do you? You're downing that like it's nothing."

You ask incredulously, deadpanning at the way liquid disappears from bottles. He smirks, much more at ease next to you and with his sake, though he couldn't let you know that. Couldn't let you see how you have him so wrapped around your finger. Couldn't let you know that the smile you bear had him fighting to remain nonchalant, to remain strong in the face of temptation. The temptation in your lips, in your gaze, in you.

"I know, but I can handle it."

You roll your eyes at that.

He notices, but you turn away quickly, hiding your gaze in the dim light of the bar the two of you found yourselves in. Zoro can hear his Captain laughing with a stranger, can hear the love-lorn cook as he talks to Nami and Robin, can hear Brook chatting with the musicians in the bar, and yet he finds himself next to you. He always finds himself next to you. Always you he looks for after battles, always you he sits by when he naps, always you who lingers when he works out, always you he celebrates with, always you.

He wonders why you have been acting strangely this week.

Recently, it hadn't been you who lingered, or you he sits beside. You hadn't been saving the seats you usually do for him, with your bright eyes and wide smile. More often, you had been absent as he worked out, left wondering why the empty space you usually sat in was left cold and dull without you. More often had he taken notice of the unspoken things you do - reminding him of dinner, polishing his swords, filling the quiet in between - disappearing. He wondered if he had taken you for granted.

Even now, as he sits next to you, the closest he has been for days. You are quieter, more sullen, more lost in your mind. The heart in his chest that he didn't know could fluctuate in the face of another, missed you. God dammit, he missed you. And he didn't know what he had done wrong.

You take a glance to your side, only to see that Zoro was now lost in his head, drinking from bottles, with thoughts behind his eyes. You are about to ask what burdens him, but your pursuit is interrupted by that of another.

"Excuse me, love? Can I buy you a drink?"

Your gaze snaps upwards when you meet the eyes of a stranger who has approached your side without your notice. He hadn't been the first to approach you tonight; in fact, you were used to men approaching you with hope and admiration and lust twisting in their irises. It had been so easy before to brush them off in favour of Zoro's company, so easy to say no. But you find yourself considering the offer. Zoro is still distracted by a thought you cannot see, and this man was charming and attractive.

What harm was there really?

"Okay," you say, your words more unsure than you hoped they would be, but the man does not care nor seem to notice, all too pleased to have you on his arm. That is, until you feel a sharp tug on your other hand that lies limp to your side. Your gaze snaps to your left, and you are met with sharp eyes you have memorised all too well.

"Oi, where are you going?"

Zoro's voice is low, protective, his hand lingering on his swords. But his irises betray confusion, and was that hurt that lingered on the crescent edges? Zoro's insides twist uncomfortably at the sight of your hand on another man's arm.

You never indulged in the company of such men; why now?

"I'm just getting a drink, Zoro."

You say confusedly, missing the smirk on the man beside you, missing the tension in Zoro's jaw as he meets his cocky gaze. You feel Zoro's fingers twitch against your skin, his grip not painful but sure against your skin. He didn't want to let you go. But you were now confused.

Why was he acting this way?

But before you can say anything, Zoro lets you go silently, and the man next to you takes you to the bar for a drink.

.....

When you make your way to the Sunny, the sun has touched the horizon, leaking light onto the earth.

Your eyes were trained on the pavement, steps slow and deliberate, but your mind was churning. Along the way, you had seen crewmembers sprawled together on the streets and in bars, but paid them no mind, knowing it was merely a symbol of them having had a good night. Happy to see them indulge in an evening of laughter, drinks and food and each other. You hadn't expected to be out so long, but you found the need to wander a little.

The man who had taken you to the bar was okay at first, that is, until you saw the lust that travelled his features, move to his hands. He had mocked your crew and Zoro in his drunkenness. Had earned himself a good slap to the face and your swift absence, only for you to find that Zoro had left the bar already. You had only been gone for an hour at most, but following everything you had walked the length of the island several times, leading to the sun rising, signalling the beginning of another day.

You travel up the steps and onto the deck, expecting silence, expecting nothing. But you are surprised to see the swordsman, your mind had lingered all night on - had lingered years on - sat looking to the horizon with a pile of bottles scattered around him. Your heart picks up pace quickly, both in concern at the sight of him so adrift he does not notice you and of the devotion you still try to bury. Approaching hesitantly, you are met with the strong scent of alcohol, a sign that he has drunk too much, despite himself.

"Zoro?"

You murmur, nudging his shoulder gently, unsure of his reaction. He turns to you slowly, eyes masked in rare emotion, bottle clunking onto the deck from his grasp, spilling its contents. You furrow your brows, but his voice is low as he speaks to you, avoiding your gaze once more.

"How was he?"

You are taken aback, shocked that despite his inhibited state, that is what he suggests to you. Though you suppose that is what conclusion you would come to if Zoro disappeared with a woman, only to return to the Sunny in the daybreak.

"What's it to you?"

You ask lightly, watching the way his grip tightens on his own skin, sharp eyes on yours as he watches you closely. He is about to bite back until he watches you sigh and pick up the bottles that have been scattered and some shattered, cleaning the mess he has made. He meets your eyes that are on his, and he sees the concern you bear. His heart twists painfully against his chest as he pictures you with the man he left you with.

You.

You were meant to be his.

You were his angel, the one he protects, the one he looks to in quiet moments and laughs with in the confines of the other. He was meant to be the one you adored, the one who came first, the one you sought out. He was the one you were meant to nudge teasingly and drink with and celebrate wins and comfort losses with. He was the one you were meant to grace your presence with. Not some leechy stranger, not some unworthy man he can only now picture in your bed, in your arms, in your heart.

"I asked first." He says, voice quiet, tone low, eyes adrift again.

You smile half-heartedly at his stubbornness, but as you brush away bottles and put them away, you let the silence linger for a while. Once you are done you sit by his side, Zoro hates the way his heart spikes just by your warmth, you hate the way your heart does the same.

"He was an asshole."

You say, feeling Zoro's gaze meet the side of your face as your voice touches the air, but you do not turn yet, admiring the sun as it rises higher. "Wanted me in his bed long before our first drink, talked shit about me, talked shit about our crew..." You feel as Zoro tenses at your words, and that is when you meet his gaze, his eyes widening at your gentle smile, at your adoring eyes, at your proximity.

"... talked shit about you."

You grin as you see his eyebrows twitch, but you don't move, overindulgent in his presence. Yes, you might not be his, not now or ever, but you would take what you got, even if it was the show of his protectiveness from time to time. But to Zoro, he was fighting so hard not to allow his hands to travel to yours, to spill the words he constrained. You turn away quickly before you get too lost in his gaze, though he is already too far gone in yours.

"That was the last straw, you know," you grin teasingly at the sun, "had to give him a good slap to the face to bring him back to reality, then wandered around the island for a good few hours because somebody decided to leave early."

Zoro's gaze widens a fraction of a millimetre, but you do not catch it, yours still to the sky. You don't notice how his chest loses the tightness that had plagued him the whole night. The way he had used the alcohol he usually loved to force an escape from thoughts of you and the man he had regretfully left you with. He couldn't handle it, the thought, the sight of you with another. Couldn't handle another day where you continued to place distance between the two of you.

Then it comes to Zoro so clearly, after so long in despair.

He loved you.

He can't let you go.

There is a warmth on your hand, and it takes you a while to realise that it is Zoro's hand over yours, hesitant, hovering. Your eyes snap to his so fast, he is almost taken aback. He fights the blush on his cheeks as he lowers his calloused hands onto yours, pulling warmth to your own face.

"Zoro?" Your words are hesitant, but his are blunt and unwavering.

"Don't do that again, woman," he says, voice even, eyes far from yours. Two beats pass in silence until his voice reaches the air again, in turn, rendering you temporarily speechless.

"I think I like you."

There is no teasing in his words, no underlying joke. He is vulnerable under your gaze, touch faltering on skin, uncertainty clouding his mind. But to you, a wave of shock travels through your system, and you can't help but let out a yell of surprise.

"What?!"

Zoro winces as he squeezes his eyes shut, not used to the effects of too much alcohol.

"Damn woman, do you have to be so loud?"

You hurriedly silence, before returning to your spot next to him, mind buzzing. Is this a dream? Did you hear correctly? Have you gone and lost your mind? You quickly come to your senses, gathering thoughts that have scattered, until one question clouds your mind.

"But I thought- I thought you said you didn't have time for distractions?"

Zoro pauses, his mind travelling to the conversation the two of you had a week ago. A week ago, when you named women, he could never have considered that way. The frustration he felt when it sounded like you were writing yourself off the list of options, forcing people onto him when all he wanted was you. Was that why you put distance between the two of you? Was that the question that plagued your mind? Was that what you thought?

You hear him sigh, but he pulls you into his side, still a mixture of drunkenness dictating his movements.

"You're not a distraction, just another focus, a vulnerability maybe, that I choose to have," he smirks slightly at your surprise spilling into your stare. "But you're mine, or I want you to be."

Silence touches the air, but Zoro takes comfort in knowing that you have not moved from where you sat, have not moved from his touch, have not wilted under his vulnerable words. In a movement, he feels your hands touch his face, a shine to your gaze that has him blushing to his ears. A hammering against his chest like he has never known.

"I want to be yours."

And somehow, that was all he wanted to hear.

His lips touch yours, in a mix of warmth, of roughness and of the taste of too many drinks. But you feel his hands, strong, secure against your skin, pulling you closer. Your mind is a haze as he moves, still tipsy off of alcohol, still stumbling with nerves, but lost in the place you have wanted to be for so long. He growls low under his breath, his hands moving as though to erase the touch of any other. When you pull away, you are breathless, and so is he. You sit on his lap, and he holds you closer.

A moment of bliss travels the two of you, and yet a yawn comes through your system, exhausted emotionally, of the time spent last night wandering, of the thoughts that raged through your head. And yet now, next to him, you can't find the courage to drift asleep, afraid to wake to your bed and to harsh reality. Zoro seems to be having the same thoughts as you, but in the caress of soft hair, he murmurs against your skin.

"Sleep, woman. I'll be here when you wake up."

Your eyes meet his hesitantly, and though you know alcohol is still in his system, you don't think that is the reason why his eyes soften when he meets your gaze. No, you knew that look, it was familiar, shining with care and softness and that unspoken emotion you had seen all too much before. That unspoken emotion, now free of its speechlessness, is only for you to know. You nod to him, surprisingly comfortable, like everything was how it was supposed to be.

When sleep consumes you, it takes only a beat more for it to consume Zoro, too. Finally free of his burdenous thoughts, of regret, and of needing alcohol to erase his feelings. Zoro now indulges your warmth, the softness of your skin, the weight of you against his broad chest. As a smile lingers on his face, it is then he realises how often you pull the corners of his lips upwards, how often you bring him to a place of peace in a world clouded with anything but.

A distraction? How could you ever be?

He was utterly devoted to you.

And you were now his.

When both of you wake the next day, it is to the incoherent screaming of Sanji, the laughter of your Captain and the agape expressions of Chopper, Brook and Ussop. Nami, Franky and Jimbei look on, unsurprised and grinning. But Robin looks to the two of you asleep in the arms of the other knowingly.

"Finally..."

[sleepymarimo]

❝𝐰𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐮𝐩!❞

synopsis: you're tasked with waking up zoro for dinner, but it's hard to make him budge.

pairing: zoro x gn!reader cw: more tooth rotting fluff for my favorite swordsman :) wc: ~1.6k an: i had a dream about this and added some even more fluff because why not. ty all i hope you enjoy <3 also i realized i have a decent chunk of zoro fics about napping lol maybe this is why im sleepymarimo i just love that sleepy lil guy

"Where the hell is that shitty swordsman?" Sanji grumbles, cigarette hanging from his lips as he sets a hefty plate of rice on the dining table.

Even though you're acutely aware that the marimo is missing, you pretend to peer over shoulders and swivel your head to give the impression that you're just as clueless as everyone else. You're already sat at the table, utensils neatly resting beside your plate.

Everyone else is already in the dining room, Luffy practically on the brink of perishing as the food is placed before him. Chopper and Usopp are close behind, their forks glinting in the light.

Robin is patient, smiling at the sight before her, the one she's grown to love. "I believe he said something about taking a nap," she reveals, her fingers wrapping around the stem of a wine glass. "He might be holed up in the boy's room."

"You mean the men's room?" Franky speaks up in an attempt to lighten the mood, the cola bottle in his hand hissing as he pops the cap.

Nami shakes her head, not in the mood to entertain the hooligans she calls her crewmates- her family. When Luffy, Usopp, and Chopper start to chant for their food, the navigator's last straw cracks into a million pieces.

Her chair slides back with a screech as she stands, planting her hands on the table. "Ugh, I can't believe that guy, sleeping through dinner!" The sigh she gives is intentionally dramatic, her charm working its magic as Sanji quickly offers to knock some sense into the green-haired swordsman.

It all comes to a halt when a pair of hands sprout from the table, tugging at the cook's shirt in a silent command to stay put. All eyes go to Robin, her knowing gaze easily hiding whatever ploy is running through her mind.

She calls your name and you immediately feel your cheeks warm, though you still feign obliviousness even if it seems like she's peeking right into your brain.

"Why don't you get Zoro?" she suggests, yet deep down you know you don't have an option.

Even if the thought of protesting crosses your mind, the chorus of growling stomachs and pleas for you to hurry have you standing and scampering up the stairs and to the deck.

Standing in front of the door to the boy's cabin, you feel your stomach drop a bit. You're quite literally entering a tiger's den, into the willing jaws of a beast who has been known to treasure booze, swords, and naps above all else.

The air inside the room is significantly more warm, heavy, compared to the cool breeze blowing outside. It's dark, your eyes adjusting to the lack of lighting as you carefully step over shoes and dirty clothes.

For a moment the beds seem empty and you wonder if he's even inside, yet the massive figure atop one of the bunks makes you quickly reconsider that thought.

His bare back rises and falls at a leisurely pace, his arms sprawled over the sides of the bed while he lays on his front. Cheek pressed comfortably into his pillow, Zoro naps away without much care for anything else.

After gawking for a second or two, you step toward the bunk, mentally cursing, and steel yourself for what feels like the millionth time. The wooden structure is a bit too tall for you to get a look at him, so with a small grunt you step onto the bottom bunk and grip onto the rails to hoist yourself up.

As soon as you take a glimpse over the top bunk's railing, you feel the warmth of his exhales across your nose and cheeks. It makes your face warm, your own breaths stalling as you take in the sight of him looking so… serene.

His face is softened, relaxed, a stark contrast to the pinched brows and scowls he usually wears.

Imagining the exasperated faces of your hungry crewmates, you get on with your small mission. Even though you're there to wake him, you're considerate enough to keep mindful of your tone. "Zoro?" comes his name from your lips, a murmur not quite suited for waking a beast.

The most you get out of him is the slight wrinkling of his nose, like a fly had perched there for a second before buzzing off. In a way it's expected given that he's slept through storms and whole marine attacks.

Your tone is louder the next time you call his name, more firm, his silhouette becoming pronounced as your eyes adjust to the dark room. "Zoro," you call again, arms starting to ache from how you're pulling yourself up to the top bunk.

Again, nothing. It's almost comical at this point, really.

You resist the urge to groan in frustration, your options becoming more limited. Time really isn't on your side here, not when the odds of a hungry pirate barging into the room increases by the second.

Taking a big breath, you decide that this is going to be the last try. This is going to be the one to wake the marimo, whether he likes it or not.

Unfortunately, the sea has other plans for you.

The ship hits a patch of rough water, the violent movement causing you to lose your grip on the railing tethering you to the top bunk. Your breath also catches when the sudden jolt makes your feet slip off the mattress belonging to the bottom bed, your heart skipping a beat when you feel yourself starting to fall back.

You're fully prepared to brace yourself against the harsh floor, your muscles tensing and jaw tightening, but you don't even have the chance to fall back a single inch.

A strong arm, previously hanging limp over the bed, curls around your waist and holds you steady. It supports all your weight, even as your legs kick out in an attempt to find solid ground. With your face suddenly squished into the junction of his neck, your own arms act on instinct and wrap around his shoulders.

Zoro's awake now, steel-grey eye open and aware as if he hadn't been knocked out cold just seconds ago. His senses have a unique threshold, not bothering to pick up on the calls of his name but always managing to be ready when his crewmates need him most- especially you.

His skin is warm, a tell tale sign that he'd probably been napping for hours. Tightening his grip on you, he sits up, pulling you with him. You're still disoriented, wondering why you haven't hit the floor, but he's as sharp as ever.

"The hell are you doin'?" he grumbles, voice still heavy from his rest, carrying that delightful rasp. His irritated tone is a facade, more of a light chide than anything. "You tryin' t'break your neck or something?"

You feel like a fish out of water, mouth opening and closing a couple times while you're still dangling from the top bunk. It's hard to not get in a few mumbled apologies, not knowing if he's ticked from being stirred from his sleep.

"Dinner is ready," you reply, managing to find your words, your hold on him not letting up due to fear of falling once more. He feels so warm, the definition of a guilty pleasure, and you're left to exert as much self-control as possible.

He lets out a scoff, amused, then grunts as he finally realizes you're still hanging over the bed. His hand moves, sliding across your waist to grab at the back of your shirt. While Zoro's strength is known throughout all the seas, it always leaves you in awe. With nothing more than a bicep curl, he hoists you up and onto the top bunk with him.

A sigh of relief leaves your lips as you sink into the soft mattress, the bunk creaking with the added weight and how Zoro shifts into a seated position. Legs crossed over one another, he stretches his arms over head, unintentionally showing off his physical prowess.

Your eyes find the ceiling out of respect, but mostly because you're another second away from bursting into flames.

He yawns, then rubs at the back of his neck. "Dinner, huh?" he repeats, finding the answer satisfactory enough and shrugging his shoulders. "They sent the right person. I don't need that shitty cook hurling a kick my way."

You nod and even get out a laugh. "Yeah, I'm sure waking up to me almost falling is a lot better," you joke, looking over the bunk to see the drop to the floor.

"It's no problem," he assures, his gold earrings catching in the slivers of moonlight entering through the window as a lazy smirk grows on his face. "I got ya."

While you'd be willing to skip dinner to stay with the swordsman, your stomach protests with a hefty grumble. Zoro's stomach follows suit, making it's need for food known. The timing of it makes another laugh slide past your lips, a sound that makes his smirk soften into something more genuine.

With a small grunt, he hops off of the top bunk and lands on the floor with a solid thud. "Alright," he starts, stretching his back out a bit more before lifting his head to meet your gaze. "Let's go eat." His arms raise, ready to help you down from the bed. Whether you want to take the ladder or propel yourself into his embrace, he silently vows to be there to offer support. Although Zoro could be stubborn, gruff, and brash, he'd never let you fall, not ever.

[soaln]

i read ur op jealous hcs and they were so cute ! i also saw that you mentioned your inbox was open, so can i request zoro x reader who’s the completely opposite of him? reader who’s sweet and kind to everyone, and very gentle unlike their mosshead bf.. i love him lol

𝓞𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓

𓏵 ﹒ ┈ warnings : pure fluff, gender isn't mentioned. I realized I have a lot Sanji and Zoro request 😭😭 anyw req open I changed few things｡— ◟ 𖦹

The sun was setting low on the horizon, casting warm light across the deck of the Thousand Sunny like it was made of gold. The ocean stretched out endlessly, a sparkling blue as the ship drifted smoothly over the waves. You were sitting on the railing, your outline lit up by the fading light, your fingers busy making a crown out of flowers. Each petal brought a splash of color—soft pinks, creamy whites, and bright yellows—showing off your easy-going vibe and the simple happiness you found in little things.

Zoro was standing across the deck, looking like a statue made of stone as he pumped some weights with serious determination. His brow was furrowed, jaw tight, and his green hair—which everyone joked looked like messy moss—was shining with sweat under the setting sun. He was the definition of strength and toughness, rarely saying much and showing even less weakness. But every now and then, his sharp eyes would wander over to you, pulled in by the warmth of your presence.

You two were totally different. While you were all about warmth and sunshine, he had this tough vibe that felt shady and intense. Your kindness shone like a beacon, making people feel good, while Zoro’s rough edge seemed to push folks away. Still, there was this cool connection between you that neither of you could fully put into words, but you both respected it a lot.

“Oi,” he said, his voice deep and rough as he walked up to you, a towel tossed over his shoulder. “What’s up? Just hanging out here alone?”

You turned to him, your smile as radiant as daylight. In your hands, you held the finished flower crown, its delicate magnificence a stark contrast to the man before you. “I made this for you,” you told, your voice a melody that seemed to soften even the edges of his hardened demeanor

Zoro’s brow arched, his expression a mix of skepticism and amusement. “Flowers? Seriously?”

You laughed, the sound like wind chimes dancing in a gentle breeze. Rising to your feet, you placed the crown atop his head, your fingers brushing lightly against his green hair. “There,” you declared, your tone teasing yet tender. “Now you look like a silly warrior ruler.”

A faint blush crept across his cheeks, and he reached up to remove the crown, but your hand caught his wrist, stopping him. “Leave it on,” you pleaded, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just for a little while, Please?”

He hesitated, his hand hovering in the air, before he let out a resigned sigh. “Fine,” he grumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward ever so slightly. “But if anyone sees me like this, I’m blaming thus on you.”

Your heart swelled with affection, and you leaned up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. “Thank you, Zoro,” you murmured, your voice warm filled gratitude. “You’re the best.”

He muttered something incomprehensible under his breath, but the faint blush that wiped his cheeks betrayed his true feelings. Beneath his gruff exterior, Zoro sheltered a deep appreciation for your gentle nature, even if he would never admit it aloud.

As the crew began to gather for dinner, the deck came alive with the sounds of laughter and camaraderie. Luffy’s wild voice echoed across the ship as he demanded more meat, while Sanji moved with practiced grace, setting the table with his usual flair. Nami and Robin conversed in calm tones, their laughter like music, while Usopp and Chopper animatedly recited one of their many adventures.

Zoro glanced at you, his expression softening in a way that was reserved only for you. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go eat before Luffy devours everything.”

You nodded, slipping your hand into his, your fingers intertwining as if they were always meant to fit together. “Okay,” you smiled, your smile as bright as the stars beginning to appear in the night sky. “But you’re keeping the flower crown on, right?” You grinned.

He rolled his eyes at you, but the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his actual feelings. “Yeah, yeah,” he stated, his tone gruff but affectionate. “Whatever makes you happy.”

After that, the two of you joined the rest of the crew, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of contentment settle over you like a warm blanket. Despite your differences, you and Zoro were a perfect match—a symphony of opposites that created a harmony all your own. And in that moment, you knew that your gentle heart and his rugged soul were forever intertwined

[inseobts]

[2b4st4r]

hii, would you write an oblivious reader with a little dumb Zoro who shows affection doing the tiniest things (like saving them a chair at the table and napping together) but gets confused when reader thinks they're not dating?

Oblivious Compassion

Zoro x Reader

Words: 5,454

Warnings: uhh..nothing really?? Maybe emotional distress?

✸→→⛤←←✸

A gentle sway of the Thousand Sunny was usually what woke you, a comforting rhythm that had replaced the solid ground you’d once known. Sunlight, filtered through the porthole, painted warm stripes across your bunk. Another day on the Grand Line, another adventure waiting—or so you assumed. You stretched, a soft yawn escaping your lips, completely oblivious to the chaos that often unfolded around you before you even had your first cup of tea.

Life with the Straw Hats was… an experience. Your natural kindness often led you to offer a helping hand, a comforting word, or even just a genuine smile to anyone who seemed to need it. It didn't matter if they were a fearsome pirate captain or a shy reindeer doctor; everyone received the same gentle warmth from you. This genuine compassion was a core part of who you were, a quiet strength that sometimes surprised even the most hardened individuals you encountered. However, it was also inextricably linked to your charming, albeit occasional, unawareness of… well, a lot of things.

You hummed a little tune as you padded out to the galley, ready to see what Sanji had cooked up for breakfast. The aroma of sizzling bacon and fresh coffee filled the air, a familiar and delightful scent. You passed Zoro, who was already napping in his usual spot, and Franky, who was tinkering with something shiny. You waved cheerfully, completely missing the exasperated sigh Nami let out as she reviewed a stack of navigation charts, muttering about an impending storm you hadn't even registered. For you, every day was simply a bright, new canvas, waiting for whatever wonderful, bewildering, or completely over-your-head moments the Straw Hats would inevitably bring.

You grabbed a plate, loading it up with a generous serving of pancakes and crispy bacon. Your eyes scanned the bustling galley, a bright smile gracing your lips as you spotted an empty seat beside Zoro. He was already halfway through his meal, a faint scent of sake clinging to him even at this early hour. You slid into the chair, completely missing the subtle shift in his posture, the slight easing of his shoulders that no one else would have noticed.

“Morning, Zoro!” you chirped, taking a big bite of pancake.

He grunted in response, not bothering to look up from his plate. This was a typical exchange for you two. While most of the crew found Zoro intimidating, you had always seen past his gruff exterior. Maybe it was your nature, or maybe it was just that you were truly, wonderfully, utterly oblivious to the subtle cues that screamed "don't bother me" to everyone else. You’d once offered him a flower you found on an island, convinced it would brighten his day, and he’d simply… taken it, tucking it behind his ear without a word. The others had stared, jaws agape, but you hadn’t noticed a thing.

It wasn't that you were unintelligent. Far from it. You could read the shifting winds with an uncanny accuracy that rivaled Nami's, predicting squalls hours before she even saw them on her charts. You were a skilled hand with a rope, could patch a sail faster than Usopp, and your memory for island flora and fauna was encyclopedic. You were, by all accounts, incredibly smart. But when it came to social cues, to reading between the lines, or understanding the unsaid, you were in a league of your own—a league where the only other member was probably Luffy.

The rest of the crew often watched your interactions with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. They saw the way Zoro always seemed to gravitate towards your corner of the deck, the way he’d subtly deflect anyone else who tried to take your usual spot beside him. They saw the little things, the almost imperceptible gestures that spoke volumes about his quiet protectiveness over you. But you? You just saw your friend, Zoro, who always seemed to have a seat saved for you, and honestly, you were just grateful not to have to stand while you ate your breakfast.

"Did you sleep well?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Zoro grunted again, finally looking at you, his single visible eye meeting yours. "Hn."

You beamed, taking it as a resounding "yes." Some things, it seemed, were just meant to remain a mystery to you.

As you chatted happily, a stray blob of pancake syrup decided to make a break for it, landing squarely on your cheek. Before you could even register it, a calloused thumb, surprisingly gentle, brushed against your skin, wiping the sticky sweetness away. You blinked, a wide, easy smile blooming on your face.

"Thanks, Zoro!" you said, and then, without another thought, went back to devouring your breakfast.

It had always been like this. Small, almost imperceptible gestures from him, met with your genuine, innocent appreciation. Zoro would do things for you that he wouldn't dream of doing for anyone else, and you, in your beautiful oblivion, would simply accept them as the natural order of things. He always saved you a seat next to him at meals, on deck, or even during their rare moments of downtime. You never once wondered why that spot was always open, or why his gaze would subtly track you until you settled beside him.

The others saw it, of course. They saw how you could drape yourself over his broad shoulders during a particularly intense nap, your head tucked comfortably against his neck, while he remained perfectly still, a silent guardian. They’d seen him, after a grueling battle, his own body bruised and battered, seek you out first, his lone eye scanning for any sign of injury on you before allowing himself to collapse.

“Rough one, huh?” you’d said once, gently dabbing a cut on his arm with a damp cloth after a skirmish, completely oblivious to the protective glint in his eye as he watched your focused expression. He’d just grunted, letting you fuss over him, a privilege he granted no one else.

There were countless times, during long voyages or after too much celebratory sake, that you’d simply curled up in the nearest available space, which often happened to be Zoro’s bed. You’d wake up tangled in his limbs, or with your head on his chest, completely unperturbed. He’d just be there, a warm, solid presence, and you’d simply stretch, offer a sleepy "Morning, Zoro," and go about your day. No awkwardness, no questions, just a comfortable familiarity.

He even let you nap on him during those lazy afternoons at sea. You'd be reading, or simply enjoying the sun, and inevitably, your eyelids would grow heavy. Without a word, you’d just lean over, rest your head on his lap or shoulder, and drift off. He never moved, never complained, just stayed there, a silent anchor in your drifting world. He was the only one on the entire ship allowed such liberties. For everyone else, it was a mystery how you managed it. For you, it was just… Zoro. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

But god, how oblivious you were. You didn’t even notice the sheer gentleness in his large, scarred hands as he’d brush that syrup from your cheek, a touch he reserved solely for you. You didn't register the subtle tightening of his muscles, the way his lone eye would narrow just a fraction, whenever anyone got too close to you, a silent warning only the truly observant could decipher. He was fiercely protective, a silent sentinel, and you simply saw a friend.

The depth of his care, the quiet affection that bordered on something far more profound, was completely lost on you. He’d sit there, unwavering, as you slept soundly on his lap, his fingers occasionally, almost unconsciously, tangling in your hair. He’d carefully separate strands, twirl them around his fingers, or simply let them sift through his grasp, a quiet, tender gesture that spoke volumes. You were just so immune to it, so oblivious to the subtle currents of emotion that swirled around him whenever you were near. It was just Zoro, your friend, letting you get comfortable.

As the day continued, it unfolded as normally as any day on the Thousand Sunny could. Luffy dragged Usopp and Chopper into a game of "extreme hide-and-seek" that mostly involved loud shouting and crashing noises. Sanji, ever the gentleman, flitted around Nami and Robin, offering them fresh juice and compliments, while grumbling at Zoro for breathing in his general direction. Franky was still super-tinkering, sparks flying from his latest invention.

You spent some time helping Nami chart their course, your surprising meteorological instincts proving invaluable. You laughed easily at Usopp’s outlandish tales, completely believing every word. Later, you found yourself on the deck, sharing a quiet moment with Robin, discussing the various types of flowers you'd seen on their last island. All the while, Zoro was never far. He was either training, or simply lounging nearby, his gaze occasionally drifting your way, a silent guardian in your beautifully oblivious world.

And through it all, as was often the case, you found yourself with Zoro for most of the day. Whether you were helping Nami with her charts, listening to Usopp's latest tall tale, or just enjoying the salty air on deck, he was there. A silent presence, a steady shadow, always somehow within arm's reach. He was on your side, not in a way that screamed for attention, but in a quiet, unwavering devotion that you, in your typical fashion, barely registered.

As the afternoon wore on, however, Zoro's patience, never his strongest suit, began to wane. He’d been observing the usual chaos of the Straw Hats, his boredom slowly morphing into a familiar irritation. Luffy was now attempting to teach Chopper how to "fly" off the mast, much to the reindeer's terrified squeals. Sanji was still openly bickering with him across the deck, a constant, low hum of annoyance.

With a long, suffering sigh that went completely unnoticed by anyone but the keenest ears, Zoro finally reached out. Before you could even register his intent, his calloused fingers closed around your wrist, his grip firm but not painful.

"Come on," he grunted, pulling you away from whatever benign activity you were engaged in. You stumbled slightly, caught off guard.

"Huh? Where are we going, Zoro?" you asked, looking up at him with innocent curiosity.

He didn't bother to answer, simply tugging you steadily towards his usual napping spot on the deck, a patch of sun-drenched wood near the mast that was surprisingly comfortable. He dropped down with a thud, leaning back against the cool wood.

"Need a nap," he declared, his voice gruff. His single eye fixed on you. "You're joining me."

It wasn't a question. It was a statement, an order even, delivered with the absolute certainty that you would comply. And because it was Zoro, and because that's just how things were, you simply settled down beside him, completely unaware of the subtle possessiveness in his gesture, or the way the tension had visibly drained from his shoulders the moment you were by his side.

You blinked, sunlight dappling through the mast sails, and the gentle rocking of the Sunny was the first thing you registered. Your head was resting comfortably on something firm yet yielding, and a warmth enveloped you. You stretched, a soft sigh escaping your lips, and then realized you were draped across Zoro's lap, his arm slung loosely around your waist, holding you close. It was a familiar position, one you’d found yourself in countless times.

You started to stir, pushing yourself up slightly. "Morning, Zoro," you murmured, thinking he was still deep in slumber. You went to carefully extract yourself, not wanting to disturb him, but as you shifted, his arm tightened.

"Just a few more minutes," his voice rumbled, rough with sleep, pressing you gently back down. He didn't even open his eye, just tightened his hold, keeping you exactly where you were. You settled back, completely unperturbed. It was just Zoro, being Zoro. You weren't in a rush anyway.

You relaxed against him, the gentle rise and fall of his chest a soothing rhythm. You could hear the muffled sounds of the ship slowly coming to life—Luffy’s boisterous laugh somewhere in the distance, Sanji’s pots clattering in the galley. But in Zoro’s arms, the world felt still and peaceful. You just lay there, content, completely at ease in the quiet cocoon of his presence. You never once questioned why he held you so securely, or why his proximity always felt like the safest place on the entire Grand Line. It was just Zoro, and this was just another morning.

The tranquility of your morning cuddle was abruptly shattered by the familiar, brisk voice of Nami. "There you are, Y/N!" she declared, her footsteps echoing sharply on the deck as she approached. "I need your eyes on these charts. We're approaching a tricky current."

Before you could even fully process her words, Nami had skillfully pried Zoro's arm from around you. "Sorry, Zoro," she said, though her tone held no real apology, "but Y/N can't be with you every minute of the day. The ship actually needs her."

Zoro merely grunted, a low, guttural sound. His eye, still heavy with sleep, flickered open to glare at the navigator. "Shut up, witch," he mumbled, though he made no move to retrieve you.

You, meanwhile, were already standing, your mind shifting gears with remarkable ease. "Oh, charts! Of course, Nami!" You beamed, completely missing the loaded exchange between your two crewmates. "What kind of current are we looking at? Is it one of those swirly ones that makes the compass go crazy?"

Nami, already pulling you towards the navigation room, couldn't help but sigh. Sometimes, your obliviousness was a blessing; it certainly made getting you to work easier. "Something like that, Y/N. Come on, let's go over it."

As you disappeared into the cabin with Nami, completely engrossed in the prospect of analyzing currents, Zoro remained on the deck, a silent, brooding presence. The warmth where you had been on his lap had already begun to fade, and he let out another, softer grunt, a sound of quiet displeasure at the interruption. But he knew, of course, that Nami was right. You couldn't be with him every minute of the day. Even if he wished you could.

You and Nami spent the next few hours poring over charts, your keen eye for weather patterns proving invaluable. You pointed out subtle shifts in wind direction Nami had almost missed, and together, you plotted a course that would deftly navigate them around a series of unpredictable whirlpools. You were so engrossed, the time seemed to fly by.

Just as you were finalizing the last coordinates, a booming voice echoed across the deck, making you both jump. "DINNER'S READY, MY BELOVED LADIES! SANJI-SAMA HAS PREPARED A FEAST FIT FOR GODDESSES!"

Nami rolled her eyes, but a smile touched her lips. "Finally! I'm starving." She stretched, then gestured for you to follow. "Come on, Y/N, let's go get some food before Luffy eats it all."

You grinned, your stomach rumbling in agreement. "Oh, I hope it's Sanji's special meat stew! It's so good when he adds those tiny mushrooms."

As you and Nami made your way towards the delicious aromas wafting from the galley, the day's earlier events faded into the background. Your brief cuddle with Zoro, his possessive grip, Nami's pointed comment—all were just fleeting moments, already eclipsed by the simple, comforting promise of a warm meal with your friends. You were just happy to be there, another day on the Grand Line, surrounded by the crew you loved, completely oblivious to the silent warrior who, even now, was probably making his way to the galley, ensuring there was still a seat open right next to his.

As you and Nami stepped into the bustling galley, the comforting clamor of plates and cheerful chatter immediately embraced you. The rich scent of Sanji’s cooking, a symphony of herbs and sizzling meat, filled the air, making your stomach rumble happily. Your eyes, as always, scanned the crowded tables for a familiar face, and there it was: the empty spot beside Zoro.

Without a second thought, you headed straight for it. Zoro was already deep into his meal, his usual focused intensity applied to devouring his food. You slid onto the bench beside him, your presence acknowledged by a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head.

"Looks delicious, Sanji!" you chirped, reaching for a serving spoon.

Zoro didn't reply, just continued eating, but you could feel the subtle shift in the air around him, a quiet settling of his presence as you took your rightful place beside him. It was a familiar comfort, an unspoken understanding that had always existed between you two, a silent current that you, in your beautiful obliviousness, simply flowed with. For you, it was just another meal, another moment, with your friend. For him, it was exactly where you belonged.

Mid-dinner, the usual, familiar spat between Zoro and Sanji inevitably erupted. It started with a muttered insult from Zoro about Sanji's cooking being "too frilly," which, of course, sent the cook into a furious, pirouetting rage.

"What was that, Marimo?! My exquisite cuisine is a work of art, unlike your pathetic sense of direction!" Sanji shrieked, twirling a fork menacingly.

Zoro scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "At least I know where I'm going, unlike some love-struck perv."

"Love-struck?! You think you can talk about love, you muscle-brained oaf?! At least I know how to treat a lady, unlike you, who probably thinks your girlfriend here is just another one of your weights!" Sanji yelled, gesturing wildly towards you.

You, who had been happily munching on a piece of chicken, paused. Then, a bright, genuine laugh bubbled out of you. "Huh? Zoro's my boyfriend? No way!" You chuckled, shaking your head. "We're not dating, Sanji! That's silly!"

The entire galley went utterly silent. The clatter of plates, the general chatter, even Luffy's enthusiastic chewing, all ceased. Nami's jaw dropped, Usopp choked on his drink, and Chopper's eyes went wide. Even Robin had a small, surprised smile on her face.

Every single eye in the room, except for yours, snapped to Zoro. He had frozen mid-chew, his fork hovering inches from his mouth. His single eye, usually so stoic, was wide, almost panicked. A slow, dark flush began to creep up his neck, staining his ears.

Then, in a voice that was uncharacteristically high-pitched and strained, he blurted out, "Uhh... yes, we are?"

You stared at Zoro, your fork still halfway to your mouth, a perplexed frown creasing your brow. "No, we're not, Zoro," you stated, as if explaining something incredibly simple to a particularly slow child. "We're just friends. Like... like you and Luffy are friends! Or me and Chopper are friends!" You gestured around the silent galley, utterly bewildered by his claim. "We don't go on dates. We don't hold hands like that." You wiggled your fingers in the air. "We just hang out!"

The silence in the galley became deafening. Sanji looked like his brain had short-circuited, Nami slapped a hand to her forehead, and Usopp slid slowly under the table. Even Luffy, for once, was speechless, his eyes wide.

Zoro's face, now a deep shade of crimson, looked like he was wrestling with a particularly stubborn sea king in his head. He cleared his throat, a rough, grating sound. "We... we do too go on dates," he mumbled, avoiding everyone's gaze, including yours. "We went to that island with the cherry blossoms. And that one with the giant mushrooms."

You tilted your head. "But we went with everyone! And we were looking for food!"

"No, that was a date!" Zoro insisted, his voice gaining a desperate edge. He gestured vaguely between the two of you. "And we... we sleep in the same bed!"

Your eyes widened, a genuine, innocent shock coloring your features. "Yes, but not like that! You just let me nap there sometimes because the floor is cold, or I fall asleep reading!" You looked genuinely mortified, clearly thinking he was implying something scandalous. "Zoro, are you feeling okay? You're acting really weird!"

The rest of the Straw Hats couldn't take it anymore.

Usopp burst out from under the table, pointing dramatically. "He's in love, Y/N! He's been in love with you for ages!"

Nami, pinching the bridge of her nose, sighed. "Y/N, Zoro constantly saves you seats, he only lets you nap on him, he carries you after battles... it's not exactly subtle."

Chopper whimpered. "He protects you like his own treasure, Y/N!"

Robin chuckled softly, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Indeed, Y/N. The signs have been rather… evident for quite some time."

Zoro, by this point, looked like he wanted the Thousand Sunny to swallow him whole. He slammed his fist on the table, making the plates jump. "Shut up, all of you!" he roared, then turned his blazing red face to you. "Look, I... I thought... you... we..." He trailed off, utterly defeated by your pure, unadulterated obliviousness. He just sat there, breathing heavily, as if he’d just fought a thousand men.

You, however, were still stuck on his earlier statement. "Wait," you said slowly, your brow furrowing in confusion. "So… when Sanji called us 'girlfriend and boyfriend'… he meant that seriously? And you… you think we are dating?"

The silence returned, thicker than ever. Zoro finally managed a small, miserable nod.

Your mind, usually a calm and clear lake, suddenly became a churning storm. The puzzle pieces, scattered and seemingly unrelated for so long, slammed together with dizzying speed. The saved seats, the gentle touches, the shared naps, the quiet protectiveness… it all made a horrifying, mortifying, obvious kind of sense now. Your face, usually so open and bright, paled, then flushed a furious scarlet that rivaled Zoro's own.

"W-what?!" you stammered, scrambling away from him on the bench, nearly knocking over your plate. "You... you think we're dating?! But... but that means... oh my god! All this time?!"

You shot to your feet, pacing wildly in the now completely silent galley, your hands flapping in disbelief. "But I thought we were just... best friends! Like, the bestest friends ever! I thought you were just being... well, you! You let me nap on you because you're comfy! You saved me seats because you're polite! I thought I was in the friend zone! I thought you just saw me as your buddy, your pal! I even told Chopper last week that you were 'the most reliable friend a girl could ask for'!"

Your rant continued, growing in speed and volume. "And the cherry blossoms! I thought you just liked flowers! And the mushrooms! We needed food! Oh my god! This is mortifying! You actually like me like that?! And I've just been... here! Completely oblivious! How could I be so dumb?!" You smacked yourself lightly on the forehead. "I like you too, Zoro! Of course, I like you! But I just thought you were my really, really good friend and I just accepted all your kindness like it was nothing! Oh, this is so awkward!"

The reactions were immediate and varied:

Zoro, who had been frozen in mortified silence, suddenly bolted upright. His crimson face contorted into a mix of utter shock and a flicker of… something else. Hope? Relief? His eye widened, staring at you as if seeing you for the first time. "You... you like me?" he blurted out, the question barely a whisper.

Sanji finally snapped out of his stupor, letting out a delighted, albeit bewildered, squawk. "She likes him?! The Marimo actually pulled it off?!" He immediately started spinning, offering you a handkerchief. "My dearest Y/N-chan, calm yourself! It seems love has blossomed in the most unexpected of places!"

Nami, who had been watching the entire spectacle with growing amusement, burst into laughter. "I told you, Y/N! You're ridiculously oblivious! But at least we finally got somewhere!" She patted your shoulder, still chuckling.

Usopp and Chopper, who had emerged from under the table, exchanged wide-eyed glances. "She likes him back!" Chopper whispered, tears welling in his eyes. Usopp clapped him on the back, grinning. "I knew it! My keen sniper's eye saw through it all!" (He had seen absolutely nothing).

Robin simply smiled, a serene, knowing expression on her face. "It appears," she mused softly, "that even the most tangled of threads can eventually find their way to each other."

And Luffy, ever the direct one, just stared at you and Zoro with a wide grin. "Shishishi! So you guys are dating! Awesome! Now can we have dessert?"

You, meanwhile, were still processing, your face buried in your hands, the weight of years of unspoken affection and your own charming unawareness crashing down on you in a wave of utter, embarrassing realization.

You slowly sank back onto the bench, your face still burning. The earlier joyous clamor of dinner had been replaced by the crew's hushed murmurs and occasional stifled giggles. You felt like every single eye on the Thousand Sunny was fixed on you, dissecting every oblivious moment of your existence. This wasn't just embarrassment; this was full-blown, existential mortification. Your entire past with Zoro, once so comfortably platonic, was now replaying in your mind like a horribly awkward highlight reel. Every shared nap, every saved seat, every gentle touch now screamed "romantic gesture" instead of "friendly gesture."

You risked a quick glance at Zoro. He was still sitting rigid beside you, his ears still a furious red, but his gaze was no longer on the floor. It was on you, a strange, intense mixture of disbelief, hope, and something akin to awe in his single visible eye. It was almost too much to bear.

You let out a groan, a sound of pure, unadulterated despair. "Oh my god," you mumbled, burying your face in your hands. "This is it. This is how I die. From sheer, utter mortification." The idea of facing Zoro, or any of the crew, ever again felt impossible. The Grand Line had thrown countless dangers at you, but none compared to the crushing weight of realizing you had been spectacularly, monumentally oblivious to the affections of one of your closest friends for what now felt like an eternity.

As soon as dinner was mercifully over, you made a beeline for the deck, practically fleeing the galley. The bewildered and amused faces of your crewmates, the lingering scent of cooked food mixed with the thick, palpable awkwardness, was too much to bear. You needed air, and you needed it now.

The cool night breeze was a welcome relief against your still-flushed cheeks. You stood at the railing, gazing out at the endless, star-dusted ocean, the vastness of it doing little to calm the chaotic storm in your mind. Ten minutes stretched into an eternity, your internal monologue a frantic loop of "How could I be so blind?!" and "He liked me?!"

Just as you were contemplating whether you could just… jump overboard and swim to the nearest uncharted island, you heard them: slow, deliberate footsteps approaching. You didn't need to turn around. You knew the familiar, heavy tread. It was Zoro.

Sure, here is the story:

You kept your back to him, gripping the railing so tightly your knuckles turned white. The silence stretched, thick and charged with unspoken words, heavier than any sword Zoro had ever wielded. You could feel his presence behind you, a silent, unmoving force.

Finally, his deep voice, softer than you’d ever heard it, broke the quiet. "Y/N."

You flinched, but didn't turn. "Don't, Zoro," you mumbled, your voice muffled. "I can't believe I was so... so stupid."

He sighed, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of years of unacknowledged affection. "You're not stupid." He took another step closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating from him. "Just... oblivious."

You finally turned, slowly, reluctantly, to face him. In the soft moonlight, his expression was unreadable, but his single eye held a raw vulnerability you'd never seen before. "Oblivious?! Zoro, you just told me you thought we were dating! And I thought we were just friends! How am I supposed to ever look anyone in the eye again?!"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a rare sign of discomfort from him. "It's… my fault too," he admitted, surprisingly. "I thought… you knew. Or that you just… accepted it. I'm not good with words." He shifted his weight. "Or with… feelings. I just… did things. I thought that was enough."

You stared at him. "You did things? Like saving me seats? And letting me sleep on you?"

He nodded, his gaze unwavering. "Yeah. And making sure you're okay after a fight. And… other stuff." He paused, then, with a surprising amount of courage, added, "I like having you around. More than just a friend. I thought… that was obvious."

A fresh wave of mortification washed over you, but beneath it, a tiny, hesitant warmth began to spread. He truly had been trying, in his own, Zoro way.

"I… I said I like you too," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper, your eyes fixed on the deck. "I really do. You're… you're important to me, Zoro. But I just… never thought of it like that. I just thought… that’s how we were. Best friends." You looked up at him, a tremor in your voice. "So… what does that make us now?"

Zoro took another step, closing the distance between you. He looked down at you, his gaze intense. "It makes us... whatever you want us to be," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But if you're asking if I want to keep being... more than friends... then yeah. I do." He hesitated, then, with a rare, almost shy gesture, reached out and gently took your hand, his calloused thumb stroking the back of your knuckles. "I'm tired of waiting, Y/N."

The simple, honest admission, combined with the gentle touch, finally pierced through your overwhelming embarrassment. You felt a blush creep up your neck again, but this time, it wasn't just from mortification. It was something else entirely. Something new, and exciting, and terrifyingly real. You looked at your intertwined hands, then up at his earnest, hopeful face.

You looked at your intertwined hands, then up at his earnest, hopeful face, a warmth blooming in your chest that chased away the last vestiges of embarrassment. The Grand Line had always been full of surprises, but this one… this was the most astonishing of all.

"Okay," you whispered, a soft smile finally gracing your lips. "Okay, Zoro. Let's… let's go on an official date."

A faint, almost imperceptible tremor went through him, and the corner of his mouth twitched upwards in what might have been the closest thing to a genuine smile you'd ever seen from him. His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, a silent affirmation.

The next morning, the Thousand Sunny sailed under a clear blue sky, the air filled with the usual cheerful chaos. Luffy was loudly declaring his intention to find an island made entirely of meat, Usopp was attempting to fish with a slingshot, and Sanji was already planning dinner.

You were on deck, helping Nami adjust a sail, when you felt a familiar presence beside you. Zoro was there, leaning against the mast, ostensibly napping, but his single eye was discreetly open, watching you.

Later that afternoon, you found yourself sitting beside him in his usual napping spot, not sleeping, but simply enjoying the quiet companionship. He had his swords resting beside him, and you were idly braiding a piece of rope. He didn't speak, but every now and then, his gaze would drift to you, lingering for a moment longer than it used to.

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues, Zoro shifted. "That island we're heading to," he rumbled, his voice low. "They said it has a good sake brewery."

You looked at him, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Oh! And Nami said there's a big festival there too! With fireworks!"

He nodded, a flicker of something new, something almost tender, in his eye. "Sounds like a date."

You chuckled, leaning your head against his shoulder. This time, you knew exactly what he meant. The Grand Line was vast, full of unknown adventures, and you were ready for all of them, especially the ones that now included, in a surprisingly official capacity, your quiet, protective swordsman.

[h1nanii]

Having zoro as your boyfriend Headcanons

Pairings: Grumpy! Zoro x Soft girl! Reader

[Warnings: NSFW 18+ at the end]

Minors dni

It was no question that you & zoro held massive differences between each other, but it was surely a shock to everyone else to see the two of you together.

Zoro’s not soft by nature — but he tries. He roughs up your hair too hard the first time he tries to give you a head pat. When you giggle and call him “adorable,” he growls under his breath and turns red.

You’re His Compass (Literally and Emotionally)

You’re the only one who can get Zoro un-lost on an island. You gently take his hand and lead the way, and he just silently follows — not because he needs the help (he swears), but because he trusts you.

You get nervous in big crowds or loud towns? Zoro’s already standing behind you like a wall, one hand on a sword, eyes scanning everything, saying, “You stay close to me.”

Zoro’s favorite activity with you is napping. He likes when you curl up next to him like a little warm bundle, your head on his chest, your breath slow and even. It’s the calmest he’s ever felt.

Secretly Loves When You Patch Him Up

You’re always ready with bandages, soft words, and that serious “nurse face.” He acts like it’s unnecessary, but he never refuses your touch. In fact, he looks forward to it.

Protective Without Admitting It

Zoro doesn’t say “be careful,” he says “don’t get in the way.” He doesn’t say “I missed you,” he says “what took you so long?”

But god forbid anyone looks at you wrong — he’ll “accidentally” unsheathe Wado Ichimonji.

NSFW/SPICY headcanons

[I Had a blast writing this 😛😛]

He tries to be gentle—but damn, you make it hard.

Zoro starts slow. He doesn’t want to hurt you, especially with how soft you are. But the second you let out a needy whimper or tug at his shirt shyly?

All restraint goes out the window. He’s got you pinned, panting against your skin, growling, “You don’t know what you do to me.”

Size kink, 100%.

You’re smaller, softer, and his body dwarfs yours.

He loves watching his length stretch you, your pretty little hole struggling to take all of him, his thumb rubbing your clit while he growls, “You can take it ‘pretty girl c’mon..”

The grunts, the groans, the growls.

Zoro isn’t loud—but the low, primal noises he makes while buried inside you are filthy.

He’ll grunt, “So damn tight,” in your ear as he drives deeper, hand on your lower back to keep you in place.

Quickies during training breaks.

You bring him water or a towel mid-workout, and he’s already pulling you into the shadows. “Just a quick one,” he says.

But you’re bent over a bench seconds later, sweating and gasping, your voice bouncing off the walls while he mutters, “Couldn’t wait ’til tonight.”

Morning wood? You’re his favorite way to deal with it.

Waking up with you warm and sleepy next to him? He doesn’t even wait.

He’s rutting against you, lips on your neck, half-asleep voice mumbling, “C’mere, baby. Need you. Now.”

His favorite meal? Get on that damn table girl.

And when you do?

“Been thinking about this all damn day,” he growled, breath hot against your inner thigh. “Training, sparring, even while talking to Moss-For-Brains Cook.”

Your soft gasp made his smirk deepen.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me, Princess. All that cutesy shit, that soft ‘lil smile… ‘gon get me a taste alright?” His hands—big, calloused, strong—eased your thighs apart as he kissed up your leg, slow and savoring.

And when his mouth finally met your soaked heat?

It wasn’t gentle. It was focused. Obsessive. Like a man starved. Just how long did it take for him to crave you that much as if you weren’t riding his face that same morning.

You loved it. Every rough, filthy, loving second of it.

________________________________________________

[visual representation of me writing this btw, hoped you guys liked it ]

[yoyomomiko]

Hi Miko, I've been reading your one piece posts and absolutely love how you write the characters! I loved your oblivious reader headcanons, but I wanted to request kind of the opposite - how would Luffy, Sanji and Zoro react to a reader that makes the first move and kisses them first? Thank you 🥰💕

pairings: monster trio x female reader

cw: not proofread, probably contains grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!!

— (a/n): hiiii!! i'm very sorry for not posting, I've got a lot of requests and i hope I'll get to write them all ^⁠_⁠^ also, I SWEAR I don't have a favourite (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠) -> m.list

— LUFFY

Luffy is so straight forward that a lot of flirting just goes right over his head. You could be batting your eyelashes, throwing hints, or playfully touching his arm, and he'd just grin at you, not having a second thought.

He's naturally touchy with his crew, so when you start getting more physically affectionate, he just kinda rolls with it. Leaning on him? He'll lean right back. Holding his hand? He'll swing it playfully.

The realization hits... Late. You make a habit of teasing him, leaning in close when you talk, poking his face when he pouts, and even calling him cute. After a lot of punches from Nami and disappointed sighs from Usopp, he tilts his head and just goes "Are you flirting with me?"

Luffy starts leaning in close, just to see if you'll back away, and he literally COPIES your every move.

"Does this make your heart race too?" In the most innocent way possible.

You think he's immune to embarrassment, until you pull a bold move and trace his jaw with your fingers. "I bet you'd taste sweet." He actually pauses, eyes wide, and a faint pink tint covering the tip of his ears.

When you finally go in for the kiss, you catch him mid laugh. His eyes widen, and probably for the first time ever, he's speechless. Luffy, the king of energy, is frozen like a statue.

His hand almost instinctively catches your waist, holding you close. You pull back, watching his expression shift from shock, to realization, to a big, goofy grin.

"Do it again!" He doesn't even hesitate before grabbing your face and closing the distance again, kissing you back. Zero hesitation.

After this, he just kisses you whenever he feels like it. Mid conversation? Smooch. Stealing food? Smooch. Looking at him funny? Smooch.

He literally tells the whole crew. No warning, no build up. Just a proud declaration while you stand there, face buried in your hands.

You belong to his crew, but now you're his in a way that makes him extra protective. He wraps his arms around you randomly, pulling you close, his stupid, big grin plastered on his face.

He starts challenging you to kiss attacks. If you surprise him, you win. If he catches you trying, he flips it on you.

Luffy doesn't get embarrassed easily, but he does get attached. Expect him to be glued to your side, smiling like you're the best treasure in the world.

There's no overthinking with Luffy, he just likes being with you, loves that your bold, and will 100% support more surprise kisses in the future.

———☆

You're sitting on the deck with Luffy, sharing a plate of snacks, when you decide you've had enough of his cluelessness. He's laughing about something, something dumb, something that shouldn't make your heart race.

So, without a second thought you lean in and close the distance, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. It's quick, but it's just enough to make Luffy's breath hitch and heartbeat increase.

Luffy blinks at you, his usual bright eyes wide in surprise. He's touching his lips like he's processing the sensation for the first time. Then, slowly, a huge grin spreads across his face.

"Whoa!" He lets out a shaky exhale, and then he grabs your hands, bouncing excitedly. "Do it again!"

"Maybe later." You laugh, shaking your head. He was getting so excited over a simple kiss, and you couldn't help but feel your heart skip a beat at the way his touch felt on your skin.

"Later?! But I wanna do it now!" He doesn't wait, just leans in and captures your lips in another quick, excited kiss. Now, you're the one blushing.

— ZORO

Flirting with Zoro is like flirting with a wall, at least at first. He doesn't react to subtle touches, teasing smirks or even playful winks. He just raises an eyebrow like, What are you doing?

"You're acting weird." You lean in, fingers trailing over his wrist as he tenses, although not pulling away. "I'm just being friendly." "That doesn't feel friendly..."

The moment he does realize you're flirting with him, he goes completely still. His grip on his swords tighten. He legit looks like he just got challenged to a duel.

"Tch, like I care." But then he starts noticing everything. The way you look at him, the way your hand when you pass him something, the way you bite your lip when you tease him.

Zoro acts all cool, but inside? His heart is beating faster, and he doesn't know why. Literally internal panic.

One day, you brush your fingers along his jaw. "I bet you'd look good, all flustered and blushing." He visibly stiffens, eyes darting away. "Shut up." Oh, so he can get flustered.

You finally go for it, grabbing his collar and closing the gap, pulling him in for a kiss. He doesn't react at first, he's too shocked to move a muscle. Then, his hands grip your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

He's not as unaffected as he pretends to be. He exhales slowly, his breathing controlled. But you can feel the slight shake in it, the way his hands tremble slightly and the way his muscles tense.

Zoro pretends it's no big deal, but later, he tilts your chin up and kisses you again. Slower, deeper, like he's trying to memorize the feeling of your lips on his.

He's not big on PDA, but his protective streak triples. Arm around your waist? Always. Pulling you close when someone stares too long? Every time.

He doesn't say sweet things, but his actions scream it.

He still gets caught off guard when you tease him. A kiss on the cheek, and his ears turn red. Whispering something flirty, and his jaw tightens.

Zoro likes a challenge, and now that he's aware of you, he starts fighting back. He corners you and smirks if you get flustered.

He will DIE before admitting how much he likes it.

———☆

Zoro is training, sweat glistening on his skin, swords balanced in a way that makes him look damn near untouchable. You've been teasing him all day, dropping little hints, getting close... But he's been brushing you off, pretending it has no effect on him. Until now.

You walk up to him casually, hiding your smug smirk, standing just close enough for him to feel your presence. "Bet I could throw you off balance."

"Tch, you wish." He fights the urge to roll his eyes, the way his words came out was almost as if he was daring you to try.

Your smirk widens as you step closer to him. Before he could react, you grip his collar, tug him down, lips colliding into each other as you press a confident kiss on his lips.

He freezes. His whole body tenses like he's been struck by lightning. When you pull away, his breath is heavier, and there's a slight pink tint decorating his cheeks.

He glares at you, the grip on his swords tightening. "That was dirty..." He mutters, still trying to calm himself down.

You tilt your head to the side, still smirking. "Did it work?" You taunt him, trying to hold back your laugh, watching his flustered expression carefully.

Zoro exhales slowly, before grabbing your wrist, yanking you back in for another kiss. His lips crashed against yours, and you could feel his smirk pressing against your mouth. This one's deeper, hungrier. When he finally pulls back, a smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah. It worked."

— SANJI

Sanji flirts with everyone, but when you do it back? He's done for. He's absolutely weak from the start. He nearly drops his cigarette every time you touch him.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" And he instantly covers his mouth, trying to hide his nosebleed and the way his face turns 50 different shades of red. He short circuits instantly.

He flirts dramatically, and you flirt right back, leaning in close, tracing his jaw, calling him pet names. His whole face BURNS.

You catch him off guard with a soft touch to his cheek, and his whole face erupts in pink. "M-Mademoiselle!"

When you finally kiss him first, his soul leaves his body. His cigarette falls, his legs turn weak, and he grips onto you for dear life.

The moment your lips touch his, Sanji's entire body locks up. His heart is hammering, and his mind is screaming in ten different languages. His brain kinda goes offline for a few seconds, but he'll snap out of it eventually!!

He covers his face with both hands, trying to suppress the absolutely ridiculous grin forming. "Mon Dieu! You're too much for me..." And his legs wobble like he might pass out.

His hands remain on your waist, but he doesn't pull you in, not yet. He wants to play it cool, but his flushed face and trembling hands give it away.

For the next hour, he is completely useless in the kitchen. He keeps chopping ingredients wrong, spacing out and giggling like an absolute fool. When someone asks what's wrong, his only reply is "I've been blessed by an angel today."

After the kiss, he becomes extra aware of your presence. A simple brush of your fingers sends a shiver down his spine. If you just lean against him, he has to take deep breaths.

The next time you tease him, he gets his revenge, tilting your chin up with his fingers and giving you the slowest, most knee weakening kiss of your life. "Two can play this game, mon amour."

Before, he was a hopeless romantic. Now? He's a hopelessly attached romantic. "Oh, you like me?" You tease, and you see the way his lips curl into a smirk. "Like? Darling, I adore you."

He was already treating you like royalty, but now it's way worse. Pulling out your chair, offering you the best cuts off food, whispering sweet nothings into your ear 24/7. It's endless.

You kiss him unexpectedly? He still gets heart eyes, but now he pulls you right back for another. "Don't start something you're not ready to finish, darling."

Completely, utterly, shamelessly yours. Sanji doesn't even try to hide it, he's absolutely whipped. He lets everyone know, the whole crew has to deal with it.

———☆

Sanji is flirting with you as usual, leaning close and murmuring sweet things. "Ah, ma chérie, if you keep looking at me like that, I might fall apart."

You rolled your eyes, a mischievous smirk forming on your lips. You grabbed his tie, fingers twisting in the fabric, yanking him down with a sudden tug. He stumbled slightly, cut off guard, but there was no time to react. Your lips crashed against his, the space between you vanishing as you pressed your body flush against his, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. His breath hitched as his hands instinctively found your waist, pulling you even closer.

Your lips parted just enough to tease, to taste. Your fingers slid up from his tie to tangle in his hair, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him in, not letting go.

You finally parted from him, just barely, lips still hovering close and over each other. He's completely frozen. Mouth slightly open, cigarette hanging dangerously close to falling, his eyes wide in surprise, face completely red.

His whole body shakes, and he nearly collapses on the floor. "I can die happy!" He shouts out dramatically, both hands pressed firmly on his chest as he struggles to breathe.

Later, when he finally recovers, he pulls you aside, trapping you against the wall, kissing you so deep it leaves you breathless.

"Not so easy when I'm the one taking control, hm, mon amour?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[shy-writer-999]

How many dreams to say "I love you"?

Summary: Zoro overhears a private conversation and starts having disturbingly vivid dreams. He can’t figure out why, but as thoughts of you start to take over both his sleeping and waking hours, he realizes that something else must be happening.

Part 1 out of 3 (or 4). ~5k words. CW: Mostly plot. Some explicit/NSFW content, though; minors don't interact. Afab reader w/some gendered language (she/her pronouns). Kissing, fingering, masturbation.

Part 1: A lesson—don't eavesdrop.

Zoro did not think he was capable of romantic love. He’d never desired it, never felt empty about it, in fact, he saw it as an unfortunate distraction from his goals. On top of that, there were some things in his life that he could not and would never compromise on, and he had a feeling that this mindset was simply incompatible with relationships in general.

Sometimes, when he saw couples hang all over each other or make out in public, he cringed. He would roll his eyes when he saw couples holding hands, when he saw them saying “I love you” to each other, and when he saw Sanji act like a love-sick dog.

Zoro would cringe doubly hard when he heard people say, “making love,” he balked at the idea of holding hands or PDA, and felt off put by the whole concept of marriage. Like he could or would tie himself down like that forever. As if.

He never questioned his reaction to (or stances on) these things. He just shrugged it off—to him, PDA was an eyesore, and romantic love was a futile waste of time.

But the underlying reason, the reason he would never admit, was that he felt like it was forever out of reach for him. He felt like he shouldn’t even try, and he convinced himself for years that it would add nothing to his life. Nor had Zoro ever met someone who made him feel like he wanted to access the part of him where his capacity for romantic love was buried (if it existed, that is).

The few times he strained himself to imagine what it would be like to have a partner, what it would feel like to share himself with someone completely, he felt like there was a brick inside of him, literally and physically. There was some weight inside, some opaque block that he couldn’t see past. He knew that he had never experienced romantic love and he felt that at his age, if he hadn’t felt anything like that before, it’d never happen.

There was a lock inside of him and the key did not exist.

It's not like Zoro was insecure or lacked confidence. He was Roronoa Zoro, after all. He knew who he was, and he had no issue with that. It’s not that he didn’t love himself enough, but rather that he didn’t think he was capable of loving someone else.

Romantic love felt completely inaccessible for him. Maybe his insides had curdled at one point. Maybe he had too much pain to plant seeds of love inside of himself and watch them bloom. If the block was already built, he had no intentions of breaking it down. If the lock without a key was there, guarding something, he knew that it would never be opened.

He wasn’t too pressed about it, or so he thought.

One night, you and Nami were having drinks on deck. Zoro was finishing up an extra round of exercises on the upper deck, a little way away. When he was doing his exercises, he couldn’t hear anything. He was in the zone, meditating, heaving air, locked in. But when he finished working out and started stretching, he heard your conversation with Nami clearly.

He just caught the end of the conversation. He was technically eavesdropping—he wasn’t sure either of you realized he was up there, or else you wouldn’t have been so candid, but he couldn’t turn his ears off. When Zoro heard what you were saying he was intrigued. He knew he shouldn’t, but he held still and listened, against his better judgment.

“What do you mean?” He heard Nami ask you. It was the sort of conversation that you could only share with your best friend. It seemed like you were telling her everything on your mind, baring your soul, not holding back.

“Well, you know…” you answered softly, after a pause. “The type of love where you take showers together and shampoo each other’s hair. And when you’re together in public together it feels like no one else is around…”

Nami hummed in agreement, prompting you to continue.

“The type of love where you come home to them after the worst day and one look at them makes it all feel better. Forehead kisses sort of love. When you give them every part of you, and they do the same. I want a love like that. Do you know what I mean?” You asked.

You were getting bashful. Zoro could hear it in your voice. He had become very familiar with you the past few months. You were good friends, and he paid special attention to you. He watched your every move. Even so, he didn’t think anything of it—so what, he wanted to know you were safe all the time and spent hours studying your face. So what, he remembered every word you’d ever said to him. What’s the big deal? You were friends.

Zoro knew you were pretty, there was no question. If he was honest with himself, he was attracted to you. But being attracted to someone and being in love with someone aren’t the same—and no matter how much he thought you were pretty, it didn’t (and wouldn’t) go farther than that, nor would he be able to.

He thought he just didn’t have the range for a relationship, he could never see himself like that, had never felt those emotions before. Zoro had a fondness for you and told himself that this was normal between friends. Your pretty face and smile were irrelevant to the closeness and strength of your friendship, and he reprimanded himself any time he caught himself staring at your lips or musing on how pretty your fingers were.

But… Zoro would roll his eyes sardonically at Sanji anytime he got a ‘nosebleed’ over you and passed out. Zoro would call him a “fucking idiot.” If Sanji touched you or said something over the line, he’d chew him out. And if someone made one wrong step in your direction, Zoro got protective.

He wouldn’t mince words and would pull his swords out with no hesitation. He saw red one time a guy got handsy with you at a bar without your permission; Zoro caused a scene and thought about it for weeks afterwards. Any time you were injured, he felt worried sick. He told himself that all of this was the case because you were close friends.

The thought never crossed his mind that he didn’t do these things for the other people he called friends.

As he was listening, Nami responded to you. “Have you ever had a love like that?”

There was a moment of silence. Zoro figured you were shaking your head yes or no. He wondered which it was. Had you felt a love like that?

“That’s really sweet.” Nami continued. “I understand. It explains why you’ve been feeling that way recently…”  Her pensive voice trailed off.

Zoro heard your voice crack after moment, your breath hitching quietly. It sounded like you were crying. “I know I’ll be fine, but it’s just hard being so lonely when you’re around someone who… who… well, you know. I just feel so empty inside. It’s been hurting really bad recently, Nami. I don’t know what to do.” You sniffled and he could tell that you were frowning.

There was a pause for many seconds. The only thing audible was quiet sobs. He wondered if tears were getting caught in your eyelashes, rolling down your cheeks. He had never seen you cry before.

“Awh, I get it.” Nami answered. She was being kinder than Zoro thought she was capable of. “I’m sure you won’t feel like this for long though, I think he’ll come around eventually. We can all see it. I’m always here for you and will always listen to you. So, don’t get yourself down, okay? Do you want a hug?”

You squeaked out an “mhm” between sniffles. Some quiet moments passed and some shuffling. Nami must have been giving you a hug.

“Let’s wipe those tears away and get you feeling better. How about we get another bottle to distract us, and then maybe we can get Sanji to make us something yummy. I’m sure Usopp and Chopper are doing something silly, too. Does that sound like a good idea?”

He heard you answer her with another sniffle, but it sounded like you were smiling now. “Thanks for listening to me Nami, you’re the best. Yeah, let’s go get another.” Your voices and footsteps retreated inside.

Zoro was stumped for a second. He paused to let his gears turn. He was creating a mental map that looked something like this:

You were talking to Nami about what type of love you wanted.

Nami asked you if you had experienced that before… met with silence.

You were crying—you said it was hard being around someone, and you felt empty inside.

 Nami made a comment, “we can all see it.” The ‘all’ in question would presumably be the crewmates… right? What did they see, and why wasn’t he aware of this?

As Zoro pondered this mental map, he was caught up on two things. First, he was surprised to hear that you were lonely. Any time you were around him, you seemed fine. You smiled and laughed every day and had great conversations, so to hear that you were lonely was surprising for him. He wouldn’t have guessed it.

Second, when you described what sort of love you wanted, he felt something. Something shifted inside of him, or maybe it twisted. If Zoro didn’t know any better, he would have said he had butterflies, but that never happened before, and it was never going to happen. Besides, he had no clue what that felt like. So maybe he had like… indigestion or something?

He shrugged that off but was then struck again by the idea that you were lonely. You were so lonely that you started crying about it. He’d never seen that side of you before, and he was rattled. It didn’t feel good to hear you cry. Also, you were such close friends, why hadn’t you talked to him about it? Why did you feel like you couldn’t tell him? He wondered if he hurt your feelings recently or if he did anything wrong to prompt your silence on the matter.

He was starting to worry. But a voice of reason came into his mind—that was a private conversation, he told himself, you had no business listening. So keep your trap shut and mind your business.

That would prove more difficult than he imagined.

DREAMS 1 & 2: A weird coincidence

Falling asleep that night took Zoro longer than usual. Your words played in his head like a song on repeat and it was starting to drive him crazy. He remembered that you said, among other things, that you wanted to take a shower with the person you loved and shampoo each other’s hair. He was cursing himself for being so fixated on your words and he tried to force himself to sleep.

He questioned himself—why was he interested in this? What did he think about it? He was borderline pissed off at himself, telling himself to stop being weird about it, and consoled himself with the idea that he could just tell you he overheard the conversation and ask you why you were lonely.

As Zoro drifted in and out of consciousness, finally starting to dream, he found himself in a hot shower. There was someone in the shower with him, but he couldn’t tell who it was because his back was facing them. The shower was so steamy it was hard to see. He realized that the person behind him had their fingers running through his hair, scrubbing—they were washing his hair. It felt like bliss, the soap smelled lovely, and the hot water felt great.

He turned around to see who it was, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he knew who it was already.

You were standing behind him, suds on your hands from shampoo. Your hair was soaked, and your naked body was glistening wet. You smiled at him, and he could feel his arm reaching out to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

When your bodies touched, warm and wet, his hands slid up to squeeze one of your breasts just briefly. You pulled him into a kiss and your fingers crept into his wet and soapy hair. You hummed into his mouth, and his fingers trailed downwards, grabbing handfuls of your skin… It quickly turned into a sex dream.  

He felt himself grind his erection onto your wet stomach and thighs, heard you whine into his mouth and smash your lips on his. His hand crept downwards, reaching into that valley where your thighs met. He slipped a finger between your folds, already oozing arousal. His finger explored, reached further, started to slip into you…

Zoro’s heart was pounding so fast it woke him up. He was painfully hard, disoriented, and panting. The dream was so vivid it felt like it just happened in real life. It was like he knew what your skin felt like, and your lips tasted like, as if his fingers actually felt between your thighs and rubbed on your sensitive spots. He felt every moment of it, he had seen you so clearly… 

Zoro never had a sex dream with you before this. He didn’t get those dreams a lot, to be fair, and he didn’t know how to feel other than flustered and confused, considering the fact that you were his “friend”. He palmed his cock and grinded his hand over it through the fabric of his underwear briefly before sleep swept him away again. He was out like a light.

Later that night, Zoro dreamed of you again. This time, he was walking down a busy street through an open-air market. It was loud and crowded; music was playing, and it smelled like spices, baking bread, and roasted meat. Zoro was completely lost in the crowd, but he felt like the scene was missing something. His eyes shifted through the sea of faces and pinpointed you looking at him from the other side of the market, eyes riveted on his. You stood out in the crowd, radiant, smiling softly.

As he made his way through the throngs of people, you caught his eye again and waved at him. He was breathless. When Zoro reached you, you slowly slipped your hand into his and entwined your fingers together. Saying nothing, you brought his hand up to your mouth and gave it a kiss, looking right into his eyes. His heart twisted—it was that same feeling from before, one he wasn’t used to.

In this dream it was like he had tunnel vision. There were hundreds of people around him, but the only thing Zoro could see or pay attention to was you. The world melted away; you were the only thing left. He could feel himself place a hand on your waist and pull you closer. He leaned in to kiss you and you dodged, bringing your lips to his ear instead.

“I love you.” You whispered, your voice hushed, and he could feel your breath on his ear so clearly that it gave him goosebumps. Everything about it felt real. He could feel warmth seep into his core; it was like something bloomed inside of him, flowers letting out tendrils of precious petals and buds, enveloping the pair of you. He was intoxicatingly close to you; it was so real.

Zoro could feel himself about to whisper three words back to you before he started to fall—he woke up with a start. It was like one of those dreams where you’re rocketing towards the ground in a free fall, and right before you slam into the ground you wake up, terrified. But instead of scared, he felt distressed and weird.

Why had he dreamed of you for the first time after hearing your conversation with Nami?

Zoro recognized a possible connection immediately. Was it just a coincidence that he had dreamed about the same scenarios you discussed with Nami? Namely, that you wanted the sort of love where you could shower together, or be with them in public and the whole world melts away?

He was disturbed, to say the least. He was quite perplexed by the coincidence, by seeing you naked (at least, it felt like he had seen you), and by that weird twisting feeling in his chest.

More than that, he was distraught at the idea that he felt himself in his dream about to whisper something to you too, too, something which was blatantly and patently false. Why was he going to whisper those words back to you? It was just a dream, right? It was just a dream.

Thoughts nagged in his head—he was thinking about how fucking gorgeous you were, how serene he felt, and how close you had been. In both dreams he felt like you were staring into him, peering through his irises and seeing his soul for what it was. He didn’t know what the fuck was going on in his head.

Zoro usually wasn’t one to dwell, and so he tried to go with that strategy here, too. Just don’t think about it, he told himself. It was just a dream. Go back to sleep.

When the swordsman saw you on deck that morning, his heart did a thumping thing and his body tensed up. He had the irrational fear that you’d go up to him and say, “I know what you dreamed about last night, you perv.” Or something like that. He also had no clue how to interact with you after he had eavesdropped on you and then had two very intimate dreams about you, but he tried to pretend like nothing happened. After all, he couldn’t control what he dreamed about, and you were a friend.

When you walked over to him on deck and smiled at him, he didn’t know what to say to you. “Good morning, Zoro!” There was that charming smile of yours, again. He had seen a lot of it last night.

He responded with a gruff “morning” and waved a hand as he walked upstairs to do some lifts on the upper deck.

A few hours later, you and Nami came out on the lower deck in your swimsuits and started sunbathing. You were lying on two foldy lounge chairs and you had a colorful umbrella over your heads. Sanji whipped up two fruity drinks with maraschino cherries and mini (matching) umbrellas, and it looked like you were having a fun time. There was nothing objectively unusual about this scene, in fact, it must have happened plenty of times before.

Zoro was doing his thing and working out like he usually did. Whenever he did his afternoon routine, sometimes he saw you and sometimes he didn’t. He would smile and wave sometimes when you caught each other’s eyes.

But today, he was preoccupied. He was trying his hardest not to snoop again. He couldn’t hear you at all, other than your giggles and laughs, so that made it easier to ignore you. Your laugh was clear over the crash of waves and his own heavy breaths from exercising. He really liked the way you laughed; it was one of those infectious laughs that bring a smile to other peoples’ faces. He had noticed before that when you laughed, your nose scrunched up a little bit—he thought it was cute.

After hearing bursts of raucous laughter from the pair of you, he snuck a couple glances. This was a bad idea. The view confirmed two things. First, he had a rather superficial reflection—the you from his shower dream and the you in your bathing suit looked very similar. That is to say, he saw your body in a quick glance and had to tell himself to fuck off in his own mind.

The second thing his quick glances confirmed was that something about the conversation he overheard last night changed how he felt about you (hopefully temporarily). He couldn’t put his finger on it… But he spent all day so far thinking about that conversation, trying to break it down and put the pieces back together in a way that made sense.

Why were you lonely? Why did you cry? And who were you referring to when you said it was hard to be lonely around someone? Why didn’t you ever talk about this stuff with him?

You shared so much with him. He knew where you were from, what your family was like, your favorite color, your favorite food, your favorite animal, favorite song, the list went on. But you were lonely? And that’s something you didn’t tell him?

It’s not like you had to tell him every little thing. But this felt like a big thing. And he was mulling over the type of love you wanted. The type of love you told Nami about and the scenarios you listed off were sweet and thoughtful, just like you. Hearing you talk about what sort of love you wanted didn’t make him cringe like he thought it would, given that it was lovey-dovey fluffy stuff.

Zoro couldn’t recall a time when you had a conversation about that sort of thing. Maybe once or twice, drunkenly, but those memories were foggy. Why the fuck couldn’t he get you out of his head? Why did he care so much? He was miffed and puzzled.

Dinner that evening went on as usual. You sat with Nami and Robin, giggling and smiling. Zoro tried to listen to your conversation from the other side of the table (he was being self-indulgent, and he knew he shouldn’t have).

He heard Robin speak about her newest archaeological research, Nami spilled the tea about some recent designer shopping scandal, and when the conversation turned to you, there was a moment of silence. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see you three exchange some glances, a cocked eyebrow from Nami, a set of flashing eyes from Robin, and a bashful look splayed across your cheeks. He wondered what that was about. Zoro tried to keep inconspicuously observing, but Luffy started shouting about something and Usopp spilled his drink all over the very distracted swordsman.

Sometimes after dinner you helped Sanji do the washing up. Usually everyone would wash their own plates but sometimes no one felt like it, so you gave Sanji a hand. You’d go around and collect the empty plates at the table—and this night, Zoro was still sitting at the table with his empty plate. Chopper was across from him going on and on about some medical incident he witnessed years ago, and Zoro was humoring him. They had the cutest dynamic. Zoro was nodding “uh-huh” and Chopper was enthusiastically gesturing and dramatizing. When you went to collect the dishes, you walked over to them.

“Hi guys, may I take your plates?”

Zoro’s heart did that thing again, that flipping twisting thing. Was he developing a heart arrhythmia? What was up with that? He wondered, troubled.

You scooped up both of their plates. When you got Zoro’s plate, you took a moment and smiled at him particularly sweet. He mumbled out a thank you and returned the smile, but it looked more like a grimace. He was having crazy cognitive dissonance—he was feeling weird, his heart was beating funky, and he felt laser focused on you, more so than usual. He told himself that he didn’t care about the conversation last night and that it was no biggie, but his body felt the exact opposite.

Zoro’s eyes followed your frame as you went to wash up the plates next to Sanji. He noted your pretty hands and the way you cleaned the plates, delicately but thoroughly. He saw the way that Sanji slid over to you and put his hand on the small of your back to lean in and whisper a compliment to you. You shied away but smiled all the same. Zoro felt a twinge of annoyance at Sanji. He’d have to chew him out later for touching you like that. Fucking creep.

Later that night, Zoro was getting ready for bed. He was shirtless, in sweatpants, lying on the bed in his cabin with his hands behind his head. Staring at the ceiling, he contemplated the last 24 hours, trying to process why and in what ways he felt different.

The familiar sounds of your footsteps padded past his open door and he didn’t turn his head to look at you. He had enough for one day, didn’t feel like scrambling his brain anymore. He was ready to go to sleep and forget about the confusion, hopefully it’d all be gone tomorrow. Zoro had just closed his eyes when you backtracked, and he heard a wooden creak as you leaned your body against the doorframe.

“Hi Zoro, how was your day?” You asked, as charming as ever.

His tone was curt, but you could recognize a note of kindness in it, one with which you had become acquainted with in the past few months. You had a short conversation about each other’s days. Before you turned to go back to your room, you wished him “sweet dreams, and good night!”

He scoffed at himself. Sweet dreams, huh? Sure thing. Underneath that urge to push away the confusion, Zoro was tickled that you had come to check up on him. He couldn’t help but notice your pajamas, how cute you looked in them, how beautiful your face was, freshly washed and all ready for bed.

As he fell asleep, he tried to fight off the relentless stream of thoughts that his mind obsessively thew at him. More than anything, he was stuck on this idea that you were lonely, and that it was hard for you to be lonely around someone. Much to his chagrin, he couldn’t help but wonder if that someone was him.

DREAMS 3 & 4: A long day at work

Zoro fell asleep eventually and his extreme agitation, he dreamed about you again.

First, Zoro found himself walking through the doorway of a house. He didn’t see much; all he knew was that this was his house. He felt like shit; he was tired, grumpy, and burnt out. As he opened the door, he heard your voice, loud, clear, and light. “Welcome home, handsome.”

You were standing in the foyer, presumably waiting for him. He threw his work briefcase on the ground (apparently he just came home from work?), and you advanced, putting your arms around his waist and pulling him into a tight hug with your head nestled on his chest. When he wrapped his arms around you, he leaned his head on yours and noticed how soft your hair was.

“I missed you.” You spoke into the crook of neck.

Again, the feeling of something blooming inside of him radiated from his core. Every muscle of his could feel you. He could hear your heartbeat, he noticed when you pulled him closer. When you grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss, the negative feelings from his day at “work” melted away.

The whole day was worth it just for this moment. Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, you ran a thumb over his stubble, caressing his face... Zoro kept feeling that twisting, thumping, skipping sensation in his core. He felt it when he thought about you.

Lucid thoughts cut through the dreamscape—would you still feel lonely if he embraced you like this? If he pulled you into his arms and held you tight, would that make you feel better? What was this feeling when he thought about you? If he gave his all to you, would you feel better then? Would you stop feeling lonely if he gave everything to you, even his heart?

The dream faded into thoughts of other things. Swords, battles, weights, stress, more Zoro thoughts, etc. But hours later, in the early morning, another dreamscape with you in it materialized.

It was sickeningly real and strikingly intelligible. This dream was not within the list of scenarios that you described to Nami about the type of love you wanted—Zoro’s brain must have concocted it on its own.

Zoro was in a bed, his bed, and pale morning light trickled through half-shut blinders. He heard a door creak open and shut somewhere in the distance. His eyes were almost completely closed, just the tiniest peek of the bedroom and the muted blue-gray it was bathed in. Soft footsteps treaded over to the bed. A blurry figure crouched down, eye level with him. The dream came into focus more—you were inspecting his face while he was half asleep.

“Good morning baby,” you whispered, barely audible. You brought a hand up to pet his hair. He grumbled something in response, an acknowledgement. After a moment, you leaned in and started to adorn and sprinkle his face with kisses, as soft as possible. You brushed and pressed your lips around his cheeks, forehead, eyelids and chin gingerly. Your lips met his again, briefly, the same moment that Zoro drifted out of sleep.

He was awake now, actually awake. The light in his cabin was the same blue-gray that the room in his dream was shrouded in moments ago. He tried to roll over and go back to sleep but he was unsuccessful. He wondered what it would be like to wake up to you kissing his face like that and petting his head. Would it be the same?

Why did he keep dreaming about you? Surely all this fuss couldn’t be because he just overheard your conversation with Nami.

He felt tortured. If listening to the conversation was the prompt to you appearing in his dreams, then he just shouldn’t have listened to it. Lesson learned.

< masterlist | part two >

a/n: thank you so much for reading! this is very much a labor of love and has been in the works since september. i hope you like it! <3

[thbbie]

༄ zoro x reader (based on this ask)

zoro and yourself loved to taken naps together, the two of you often found huddled together somewhere on the ship; you gravitate towards one another. it feels natural, it feels comfortable to sleep next to zoro.

and as much as he'd like to deny it, he, in truth cannot.

zoro has grown used to your body resting next to his in slumber, leaning against one another, holding one another. zoro would also like to say that it means nothing to him — your entanglement that is. that the quickness of his heart when he wakes up to your soft snores isn't real, that the glare he throws that shitty cook anytime he comes near while your asleep has nothing to do with you at all.

at night, after hours of twisting and turning while waiting for everyone to fall asleep, you slip out of your quarters and go to find zoro. you find him awake already, waiting for you on the deck, this is your routine now. your little secret midnight meetings.

it's not as scandalous as it may sound, you meet up on the deck to fall asleep until the sun rises and the crew begins the days shenanigans. no one knows about it, you'd each sneak out on the deck, finding a comfortable spot and fall asleep in each others arms.

some nights, sleep is harder to come by, so you tell each other your thoughts, your dreams, silly stories you come up with on the spot, anything to help sooth the worries in your minds that keep you both awake.

you and zoro end up in a weird place between friends and crewmates and lovers, none of which you've really taken the time to discuss.

tonight, as per your routine, you sneak out onto the deck to meet zoro, under the starlit sky. you feel the excitement in your bones, the idea of his strong arms holding you against his chest making you giddy.

you find him at your favourite spot from the last few days. quietly, you approach him, wordlessly slipping into his embrace, and naturally, his body adjusts to holding you. comforting and firm.

there's a little blanket folded neatly by his side, once your settled comfortably, zoro pulls the soft fabric over your two bodies. tonight's colder, chilly air making you pull closer together; the flimsy blanket is barely enough to keep the both of you warm.

you bury your head in the dip of his neck, rubbing against the skin there for warmth. you're shivering. so to help, zoro tucks the blanket beneath him and rubs his warm calloused hands up and down your back, your arms, your thighs. you make a small sound when finger tips graze the fabric sitting close to your crotch and zoro freezes immediately.

it wasn't on purpose. he hopes you know him well enough not to assume he'd would.

you pull away from his neck to meet his gaze, his eyes wide as the stare back you and his fingers still frozen in an awkward position on your thighs.

"zoro"

"yes"

"i thought you were helping warm me up, why'd you stop?"

"didn't mean to touch ya there"

"well, you haven't moved away"

he looks deep in your eyes, searching for a hidden message or a sign — anything to help with figuring out what he already knows right now.

you decide on taking initiative, showing him the sign he was desperately seeking in your gaze; a hands on sort of demonstration.

starting by dragging your hands up and down his rippled back, his strong arms, his scarred chest, his thighs. you've keep eye contact when your fingers graze him the same way he did you.

one thing turns to another and your groping each others bodies, nosy hands wandering over whatever skin you can get to. clothes start to shed and the chill of the night becomes an after thought. the thin blanket covering you both no longer serving to keep the cold out, but rather to keep your warmth in.

"there's something else we could do"

"oh yea?"

"yea, lift you hips for me."

despite his words, zoro sounds shy. a slight tremble in his hands and a dark blush on his handsome tan face as he guides to lift your hips.

your watching his movements, as he slides two of his fingers through your folds. "quit staring"

it would be so easy to tease him right now, to poke fun, but you keep to yourself. well, you mostly keep to yourself. "you quit staring"

zoro doesn't say anything, somehow his face heats up further. his brows furrow at your remark, pulled together tight and annoyed with your constant back and forths (he loves it)

he continues rubbing your soft folds, spreading your wetness until he slips a finger in with ease, curling softly into your gooey walls. he'll shut you up another way. when your wet to his satisfaction, soaking his finger with your cum, he pulls out and replaces it with his cock.

shushing you as he helps lower you into him, sitting flush against his thighs, taking every single pulsing inch of him deep inside you. your nails dig into his shoulders, poor lip trapped in the ruthless attack of your teeth.

"that's itt, youre so quiet when you're full of me. maybe that's what you needed all along."

zoros pulls your lip free of your teeth with his thumb, he looks drunk; with hazy dark eyes, he looks like he's about to say something he shouldn't.

"i- i thi-... i like you." there's a pause in betty's words before finally blurts it out. it's so him, the way it happens. you can't help but smile against his chest, his arms holding you firmly. zoro might explode from how fast his heart is beating if he looks at you.

"and i like you silly marimo"

bonus!!

you fall asleep in each others embrace as per your routine, the only difference is the two of you don't wake before the rest of the crew — you wake up to the sound of something clattering on the floor, followed by the thud of something falling.

you're startled awake by it, cori's grasp on you tightens when he feels you moving around but he's still asleep and so your left alone to watch sanjis dramatic monologue about an oaf like zoro being with such a pretty lady and not with the distinguished gentleman (himself)

both of you are still entangled close together, in more ways than one, the only thing shielding the blonde from the view of your connected bodies being that thin blanket from last night. you try to quell him, explaining the situation but his dramatic soliloquy goes on. it won't be long now before every person ever knows.

shanks ver. law ver