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lixiesfreckless · 9 days ago

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Sugar & Spice | h. j.

A Sugar Across The Hall bonus scene

➸ synopsis: in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

➸ starring: joshua hong x reader

➸ word count: 1.9k words

➸ general content: boyfriend!joshua, kissing, slightly more than kissing lmao

➸ warnings: suggestive content, brief mention of alcohol

➸ rating: TV 16+

➸ author’s note: this can be read as a stand-alone BUT…happy one year anniversary to my magnum opus, sath. I love it to death, and I’m still not done writing for these characters, but for now, you get a much needed not-quite-hallmark-channel-approved scene. and before you get it twisted, this is and will always be dedicated to my beloved @ashonheavenscloud , but I’d like to give special thanks to @catboyieejeno for always encouraging me to stir the pot <3 love you guys a ton mwah

♫ this fic has a soundtrack! touch by keshi uhhhhhh somebody by keshi aahhhhhhh

Oh, he's really done it now.

Walking around some lively street corner a few blocks away from your shared apartment building, Joshua leads the two of you through downtown NYC at the height of spring. Strangers pass by your lovestruck duo without a second glance, not bothering to watch you look back at him with a borderline absurd amount of fondness in your irises. It's funny; usually Joshua wouldn't give spring a chance when it came to stating his favorite season, but since you waltzed into his life, he can confidently say that any of them are worthwhile—as long as you're with him. He squeezes your hand for what feels like the millionth time this evening, an action that makes you giggle happily to yourself.

Because you find it cute.

Oh, how you have no idea at all.

How tortuous this night has been for Joshua. How he regrets the day that he walked into that fateful department store, not looking for anything in particular but coming to a full stop in front of a specific mannequin. How he mentally patted himself on the back for remembering your size when you opened the gift bag a few hours earlier, eyes alight in excitement as you pulled out the present, letting the fabric unroll in your fingertips. How his face heated up as you opened your apartment door, and he quickly noted how the mannequin did the dress no justice.

Truthfully, if the dress looked as good on the mannequin as it did on you, he would have never taken it off the rack. He'd know better.

Because all through dinner he had to stop himself from staring at you and the slope of your neck, broken up by the thin straps of the halter dress and abandoned by your hair that was conveniently(to his demise) in an updo, to show off the open back. Luckily, you were so delighted by the Greek restaurant that you'd picked out that you hardly noticed his deepening flush, or the way he nearly downed his white wine in one go the second the server left your table.

And now, as you swing his hand and practically run up the stairs(because the elevator is broken, again), he finds himself almost dreading the night ahead. It's a Thursday, which means self care and Grey’s Anatomy, and while he would never turn down spending time with you, being that close to you for a prolonged period of time after the night he's had would be borderline masochistic.

Of course he contemplates all of this, but in reality, Joshua Hong can never say no to you.

So you unlock the door to your home, blabbering on about something that had happened at work and completely oblivious to the way that your boyfriend is eyeing you, torn between running towards you and running across the hall to get a grip on himself.

“Johnny went off at a customer yesterday,” you chuckled, crossing the room to set your purse down on the kitchen table. “They were being so rude, and over spilled milk too—throwing a fit over where we get our coffee beans imported from–”

You yelp in surprise, followed by a giggle at the feeling of Joshua’s hands encircling your waist from behind. His head settles in the space on your shoulder, but not before leaving a light kiss to the exposed skin of your neck.

“Hi,” you greet him, hands coming up to hold onto his forearms as you try to decipher the reason for this sudden display of affection.

“Hi,” he sighs, nose nudging against your pulse point, “Did I ever tell you how stunning you look in that dress?”

“No, I must have misheard you the first fifty times.”

He laughs at your little jab, willing his hands to stay still despite his growing desire to let them wander. You make the terrible decision to turn just enough so you can look at him, and it's this position that puts Joshua at his most vulnerable.

“Ready to wrap up season five?”

Looking up at him the way that you are paired with your slightly parted lips and flushed demeanor, Joshua finds himself at a loss for words, instinctively leaning into your face as his restraint wears thin. And your unfazed and accepting disposition makes it that much worse for him, his breath shaking as you flutter your eyes shut and part your lips.

The first touch of his lips is familiar, his kiss walking the line between mind-numbingly sweet and devastatingly tender as one of his hands comes up to lift your jaw. But instead of pulling away like he had originally intended, he presses harder against your mouth with a small sigh, unable to find any logical objection to the change of plans.

Your giggly demeanor fizzles out under the heat of his mouth, and your breath escapes you once his hand slides down to your neck, fingers languidly tracing the curve and playing with the straps that rest there. In contrast to his slow hands, his kisses grow faster and almost desperate, not wanting to separate for even a second as he tilts his head and slants his mouth against yours.

You stumble backwards slightly in pleasant surprise, and the table hits just above the hem of your skirt before the arm around your waist tightens, pulling you further into Joshua’s chest.

He takes this opportunity to lean forward slightly, clearing the table with a sweep of the arm that was holding you before hoisting you up onto it, hands firm on your thighs and then sliding down to your knees so he can part them.

“Josh,” you whisper breathlessly, clutching onto his shoulders as your eyes dazedly flicker between his lips and his eyes. His lower lip gets trapped between his teeth as his strength falters, gaze hardly able to meet yours as his fingers dance along the scalloped hem of your dress.

“Oh God, don't do that baby,” he nearly moans, and the pet name turns your brain waves into radio static. You've never heard him sound so helpless, as if his very fate would be decided by whatever you choose to say next. “You make it so hard to just sit and watch TV with you sometimes. Especially when you look like this.”

Knowing now that you have the upper hand, you decide to humor yourself and tease him a bit, leaning forward with a slight smirk on your lips. “Like what?”

His eyes drink you in from head to toe, taking their time to memorize all of your body lines in the flattering dress. If the opportunity were to present itself tonight, he doesn't know whether he would even want to take it off of you.

He leans in close, hoping that his desire translates well as it's mumbled against the skin of your neck.

“So damn good.”

His confession against your sensitive skin has you muffling a whine, gripping the edge of the table as your rationale evaporates under his searing lips, traveling higher and higher with each press.

You can't take his teasing much longer, and frankly, this side of him doesn't come out often enough for you to pass up an opportunity such as this. Meredith Grey will have to wait.

“You know…” you whisper, head tilting back as you feel his hand slipping behind your neck to support it, “they play reruns on Friday nights too.”

“Thank God, ‘cause you in this dress has been driving me crazy since you put it on,” he chuckles against your lips before catching them with his again, taking his time now to fully taste you, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to elicit that delightful shiver that runs up your spine. You respond in earnest with your hands, carding through his brown locks and nearly melting when he doesn't suppress the groan that tumbles from his throat.

He kisses you like you’re air itself, hands sliding up your skirt and body pressing against yours, and once your nails slide down his scalp he softly groans into your mouth, moving onto kissing across your jawline. You repeat the action while winding your legs around Joshua’s waist, and he whines quietly into your neck, “Please…tell me to stop before I can’t.”

So subtly you almost miss it, he rolls his hips into yours, his desires clouding his judgment as a foreign sound jumps to the top of your throat. Immediately your attention is drawn to the heat you feel in your abdomen, and while you have grown accustomed to bearing it in silence, you’re finding it increasingly hard to ignore with him like this, hands all over you.

Wanting you.

He does it again, with a little more pressure this time, and your head falls back as a whimper just barely tumbles out of your lips. He shivers slightly, nearly overcome with the exertion of fighting every urge to take you on this table this instant.

To temporarily solve this problem, his lips find yours again, but feeling your muffled moans against him proves to be no more effective than trying to put out a forest fire with a garden hose.

As his hips softly grind into yours and your kisses get more and more frantic, your voice of reason pushes through the heavy cloud of lust at the forefront of your brain. “Wait, I've never–”

“We don't have to baby,” he cuts you off, wanting to make his intentions clear despite being unable to put an inch of space between the two of you, “and I don't want to just yet, but I…”

His hand that was previously bunched in your dress comes up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing gently against the redness of your cheek as he calms himself down with a deep breath.

And as he gazes at you with nothing but adoration in his brown irises, you can almost feel the words coming before he says them out loud.

“I…I am so in love with you,” he begins, fighting a chuckle born out of the absurd location of this sudden confession, “that sometimes, when I look at you, I can’t even think straight, and I…” he trails off, struggling to find the right words the longer he stares at you.

You, on the other hand, are practically beaming, bottom lip trapped by your teeth in an attempt to fight the smile you’d be flashing him, so as to not distract him any further. But you soon realize; with him seated between your legs, there’s not much you can do to help him out here.

So you switch to offense, legs squeezing him tight around his waist to pull his hips back to yours. “You what?”

His chocolate eyes darken to a coffee color in seconds, and the hand that was on your hip tightens again, keeping you firm in place on the table as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“Sometimes I wish I could just show you how much you drive me crazy.”

You don’t hesitate, lifting your chin to meet his lips in a deceptively chaste kiss as your hands fall onto the buttons on his shirt, playing with them just to rile him up further.

You shrug, feigning indifference. “Maybe you can.”

And at that, before you can even register what’s happening, he’s sliding an arm around your waist and under your knees, picking you up and heading towards your bedroom with a chuckle.

“Maybe I should.”

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧

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rubyin-wonderland · 2 months ago

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Guilt

opla!Zoro x gn!reader

Summary: Under the control of a hypnotist, Zoro is forced to hurt you. How are you going to heal?

WC: 4.4k

Warnings/tags: blood, injuries, torture, getting stabbed, a shit ton of angst, fluff at the end

The forest stretches endlessly out around you, giving you the impression of complete isolation, despite the danger lurking all around.

You aren't completely alone, thankfully. Zoro stands with you as you traverse the forest, pushing through the bushes to hopefully find some way out of this hellish situation.

Hypnotists hide in the forest with you, prepared to take control of you with a single look. You need to escape, but that seems impossible this deep in the forest.

The sun has been completely blocked out with a blanket of branches and leaves held above your head. It must still been day since you can see, but there is no direct sunlight and there hasn't been since you entered.

You hold onto Zoro's arm like a child, eyes darting back an forth across your surroundings in case anything or anyone jumps out.

Zoro allows you to hold his arm, his hand holding yours. "It's okay." He says, still looking ahead. "We're gonna be okay." It's for him to hear as much as you.

You know it would be unwise to stop. You need to escape, but your legs ache and you are exhausted.

"I need to stop." You mumble, keeping your pace nonetheless. "We can't stop." You resist the urge to whine. That certainly wouldn't help. "I know."

"We'll walk for a few more minutes and then stop, okay?" He suggests quietly, trying to compromise. You hum a yes and nod, trying to keep up before you hear something, stopping dead in your tracks.

"Just a few more minutes." He tries to spur you into motion, but you look up at him, fear in your eyes.

"Something's there." You press your back to his, your natural place when preparing for a fight.

You hear footsteps from behind you and instinctively close your eyes. That way you can't be hypnotized.

You feel Zoro reach for his swords, drawing them from their sheaths, at the ready.

Then something happens. He freezes against your back and you know something is wrong. You take a step away as he spins around, swinging where you had been standing.

Hypnotized.

Your blood runs cold as you see his face, completely void of emotion. No soft smile or mild frown. It's a blank slate, there is emptiness behind his eyes. He's a puppet for the man standing behind him.

His posture is rigid. It's like someone turned him into a mannequin. There is no protectiveness about him. No kindness. He is not there. He's just a vessel. His swords are already drawn.

You run back into the forest, drawing your own sword to defend yourself, moving as fast as your legs will allow you.

The men follow you as you run, but as long as you don't look the hypnotist in the eyes you're safe.

Zoro follows close behind you, eventually tackling you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you.

As you gasp for air, he breaks out of the hold the hypnotist has on him, loosening his grip on your arms.

He looks confused and for a second you want to kiss him for coming back to you, but you know as soon as the hypnotist reaches the two of you the control will take over again.

You break away from him, taking off into the bushes, getting air in staggered breaths.

You look back to see Zoro go rigid again, the simple action causing you to stumble over a root, hitting the ground hard.

Zoro takes his time now, the hypnotist doesn't want to let him go. You stand, trying to regulate your breathing before holding your sword out, preparing to duel.

He lunges at you, but you're lucky. The hypnotist doesn't know how to use his swords. The movements are sloppy and leave plenty of space for you to attack.

You don't attack, though. That's still Zoro. Not right now, but inside he is, and you can't shake that. You can't hurt him.

You dodge his attacks easily, he gives you more than enough time to block. The fight would have a clear winner if you were to actually attack him.

He continues to slash at you wildly as you begin to scream for help. If any of the others can hear you they'll come to help. Hopefully.

You manage to knock him off balance, immediately taking off into the woods again, calling out for anyone.

You run fast and Zoro follows behind you, staying in the trance from the hypnotist, swords at the ready.

You don't look back. You just keep screaming, your legs burning under you. You keep running until your legs physically give out under you.

This time, when you hit the forest floor, you don't get up. You just lay there, heart pounding in your ears, your voice cut short by the fall.

You feel hands grabbing you, turning you over on your back so you can see what's about to happen to you.

Zoro sits above you, his weight holding you to the ground. Your elbows are pinned to your sides. You can't move. You can't escape.

Your sword fell out of your hand when you hit the ground and it now sits out of your reach.

His swords are discarded as well, the hypnotist likely knowing how to use fists far better than blades.

Instead of calling for your friends, you try to get through to Zoro. He lands the first blow against your face and you resist the urge to crack.

It isn't him. It isn't.

Zoro would never hurt you.

He's being controlled.

It's not him.

You hope that by some miracle he'll be able to break through the hypnosis with the power of love, but you can tell it's a silly idea.

Still, you try.

"Zoro! Zoro please! Try to come back please!"

Your begs are cut short by him forcing a forearm against your windpipe. Your voice struggles as he slowly suffocates you.

He adjusts himself at some point and your arms free themselves, reaching up to force his forearm away from his throat, your legs kicking under him.

You are struck by the blankness of his face. So much so that you force your eyes shut. You think it would be easier to handle if he looked angry. His appearance is uncanny. There's no exertion on his features. He's just staring at you, blinking occasionally. There's nothing.

It would be easier if he looked like he had a reason to hurt you. Any emotion. Even joy. You'd prefer seeing joy over this void.

You can't tell if it's worse that he's hurting you or that it looks like he doesn't even care. You know, you know that it's because of the hypnosis that he looks like this, but it's killing you.

You know deep down that he isn't even conscious. He is asleep in his brain while being controlled. He doesn't even know his body is doing this.

It's a small mercy to think at least he won't be tortured with these memories. He won't be able to see his forearm pressed against your neck as you beg him to stop.

He eventually removes his arm from your neck, allowing you to breathe. You can scream for help again. He wrangles your arms back to your sides and leans forward to grab your sword.

His knee digs into your side as he examens the blade. You begin pleading like your life depends on it. In a way, it does.

Maybe you'll be able to contact the sleeping consciousness in his head and wake it up. Have him take over again. You can only hope.

"Zoro, let me go. Zoro, please, please stop this." You start to cry. It's pathetic but it's your only defense at the moment. You can't hurt him.

He moves the sword against your arm, dragging the blade across your skin, watching the red line appear and begin to bleed.

You can feel the blood trickle down your arm as he moves to your opposite shoulder, drawing a line across it, 'accidentally' scratching the skin of your cheek with the pointed tip of the sword.

You continue to scream and cry and beg. You need your crewmates. You need backup.

You watch as Zoro lines up the blade perpendicular to the ground, the tip sitting on your bleeding shoulder.

"No." You say the word as if it will stop him. Nothing else has. He's still emotionless. Still being controlled.

You feel the blade plunge through your shoulder one second before Zoro's body relaxes.

His eyes go wide and his brow furrows as he tries to understand what just happened. When he sees his hands wrapped around the hilt of your sword, buried in your shoulder, his hands drop it. He's terrified.

He gets pulled off of you and he just sits there, watching as Nami approaches you.

You've never seen Zoro so scared. And yet it's a miracle to see anything on his face.

You're more focused on the pain radiating from your shoulder, trying to pull away from it. You hold back the urge to scream, groaning instead

Nami lifts you up, supporting you against a tree. You can see her mouth moving, asking questions, but your vision drifts to Zoro, who sits confined within the hold of the rest of the crew.

His eyes are haunted. They're talking to him but he isn't listening.

Your eyes meet and you're glad they finally do. He's there. He's back in there. He's him.

The sword juts out of your shoulder, standing up, supported by your body. Nami removes it, launching you into another pained yell before trying to silence yourself.

Nami is quick to work with a field dressing, patching up the bloody wound and covering up the cut on your arm. You'll need more help when you get out of the forest, but it does the job for now.

Nami doesn't try to get any answers from you. She just wipes the the blood and dirt off your arm and hastily wraps it up.

You read her lips and listen hard to understand her. She says you're so close to the edge of the forest. You're thankful, but fear eats away at you. It consumes your mind, squirming through your guts.

You want to throw up, or sob, or both. You end up crying, every other breath interrupted by gagging, but since you haven't eaten all day, nothing comes out.

You can see Zoro and the boys watching this and as much as it hurts to see him scared, you're still glad you can see his emotions.

He's horrified. Fear and grief rush across his face. He knows he did this to you. His eyes briefly dart to the man lying on the ground. Unconscious. He can't take control anymore. He doesn't have to. He's done enough damage.

Your hearing slowly returns and you look at Nami. "What happened?" You know what happened. You remember every grimy detail. You just want the slim chance of being told that it was a dream. A hallucination. That it hadn't actually happened.

"One of those hypnotists found you. He took control of Zoro. He was forced to attack you."

You nod, numb. You want to talk about how scary it was, but Zoro is sitting right there, eyes full of concern, staring right at you. His focus never wavers.

You let your head fall against the tree. You just want to go back to the ship. "I wanna go." You mumble at the ground, feeling hollow.

Zoro walks at the very front of the group, next to Luffy and you walk at the back, supported by Nami. This way you have the feeling of security and confirmation that he won't attack you.

"Let's get you back to the ship." She helps you up and after some silent discussion, an arrangement is made.

You know he won't. Since the hypnotist is out of the picture, everything should be alright. And yet, your brain replays the pain. The fear itches at you and there's a sinking feeling in your stomach.

Zoro wouldn't hurt you of his own accord, but he could be forced into doing it.

You try not to think about how any of the people around you could be manipulated into doing the same.

Sanji and Usopp stand as a buffer between Zoro an you, like some sort of extra protection. You feel like it's excessive, but you don't say anything. Neither does Zoro.

You can tell Zoro wants to look back at you. You see muscles in his neck twitch as he debates looking at you, making sure you're okay.

He turns around once, and you flinch. It's not intentional and it drives shards of ice through your stomach. You're scared of him.

As you walk, you realize the strange fact that Zoro shouldn't apologize. Nothing about this situation was his fault. The actions done against you aren't his. He has no reason to apologize. It's not his fault, but you know the hypnotist isn't going to feel the guilt.

This is the kind of experience that would bring you to his side, snuggling deep into his arms, trying to escape the feeling of your attacker. But when it was him who had attacked you, you didn't know what to do. You craved his touch, but it was his touch that had hurt you in the first place. The arms that kept you warm and protected had suffocated you. The hands that usually wiped away your tears had driven the blade into your shoulder.

You can't stop thinking about it. It replays over and over again in your head. You see Zoro's face hovering over yours. You feel him hurting you. It makes your heart break.

You have to stop for a second when you realize that you don't think you can be left alone with him. Not after that horrific encounter.

Out of the forest finally, you see the sun. It isn't a good sign. It's a dawn on this new trauma.

A doctor fixes you up properly, telling you to rest and what to do and what to eat and drink. You barely listen. Everything is wrong.

There's a celebration for your acts of heroism. For freeing the town from those hypnotists who have been controlling them for years. You don't enjoy it. You pretend like nothing happened in the forest. That your injuries were accidents, and earned in a direct altercation with a hypnotist. A lie, and a terrible one. You and Zoro stand far apart whenever necessary.

You don't know how to feel. You aren't angry at him. You don't blame him. He did nothing wrong. The hypnotist is to blame. But every time you tell yourself that, you flash back to the forest floor, watching Zoro position your sword over your shoulder.

That night, you sleep alone in the room you usually share with Zoro. He bunks with the boys.

The room is empty, but you can't sleep next to him. Every inch of you is simultaneously asking to run into his arms and force yourself as far away from him as possible.

The crew leaves in the morning, without much discussion. The boat just floats away from the harbour, leaving a horrific scene behind you.

For the first few days, you handle things without much trouble. You do your best to avoid thinking about the situation and risk getting riled up. You are forced to stay in bed, which makes the task of not thinking about it much harder, but there's usually someone there to accompany you.

Zoro doesn't visit. You suspect he doesn't want to hurt you further by appearing like a memory of what you've just experienced, but it doesn't feel right to not have him there. The others don't ask if you want to see him for fear of agitating you and you don't say anything about it because your mouth zips up of its own accord any time you ask about him coming to see you.

"How is Zoro?" You finally force out one day, during Nami's visit. You trust her to give it to you straight. "He's not doing good. He blames himself." You shake your head. "It's not his fault."

Nami sighs. "We know. He's the one having trouble. He misses you, but he doesn't want to visit and scare you." She looks over, an unspoken question finally coming to light.

"Do you want him to visit?" She watches the way your mouth closes and your body freezes, stopping you from answering. "You can say no. I won't tell him that you did."

You don't answer, the ever present conflict in your head raging on. You sit on the bed, feeling emotionally exhausted as your silence answers for you.

"That's okay. Take your time. Sanji will bring you dinner later, okay?" You just nod, mouth wired shut. It's too much.

For the first few nights, you sleep out of exhaustion, but once you're caught up on sleep, it wears off.

You suddenly can't sleep at night. You'll wake up at random times for no reason and it takes incredible amounts of willpower to get back to sleep.

It's midnight, and you don't even feel tired. Your thoughts return to him, defending him while your brain tries to fight you off with images of him hurting you.

The bruise on your neck has almost disappeared, and your arm is much better. You suspect the stab wound will have a scar, but the cut managed to heal quite well, only a slight line remaining on your skin.

In the morning, you are expected to make your grand return, allowed out of bed, but as of right now, you need to get out. The world is sour and you can't stay in the room you are supposed to share with Zoro any longer.

You step outside, hoping whoever's on watch duty understands that you need this.

Initially, you want to find Zoro and just see him. Know that he's safe. That he's still there, even if your mind can only conjure images from that fateful day.

You pass by the boys' room without stopping. You don't want to rouse them from their sleep anyways, so you just walk around outside.

The cool night air wraps around you, making you shiver. Your skin comes alive with small bumps in reaction to the chill.

The sky is clear and the water is calm. It's a perfect night. There's no wind, at best it's a breeze, and only the sounds of water lapping at the hull of the ship to help lull people to sleep.

You sit on the deck, staring out at the water, vast, blue, and unforgiving. You feel something bubble up in you, but it's as if the bubbles are made of tar, floating lazily upwards, popping and coating your insides with a sticky, black ichor.

You feel sick, but not like you're about to throw up. You just feel wrong.

You forgot the night watch schedule, who wouldn't after what you'd been through, but it means that Zoro is the first to see you out of your room. He shirks his duties slightly, focusing his attention on you.

He faces your back, watching uneven breaths take your body. He isn't sure if he should go inside and wake someone else up to deal with this. He isn't sure of anything. He can't stop envisioning you after he was freed from the control. Eyes wide, bleeding profusely from a wound brought on by his hand. He feels completely unable to do anything to help you.

He hasn't seen you since the celebration back on the island. Even then he had kept his distance.

You seem to have healed well, you've regained some movement in your shoulder, limited as it is. He's grateful that you haven't been hurt permanently. That would be awful.

He takes a step towards the rooms, planning to fetch Nami, he thinks she'll be the best help you can get, but his foot drags and you pick up on the noise, whipping around to face him.

You look up at the elevated deck he stands on, both of you are frozen in place. He looks blank again. But not in the way the hypnotist had done it. Instead of a lack of emotion, there's too much. He has so much to feel, and only a limited space to express it.

Concern and worry are visible on his face and you remind yourself that this is Zoro. He doesn't want to hurt you. He would never intentionally hurt you. He loves you and he wants you to be safe.

You mind counters this with reminders of how it felt to struggle beneath him, unable to get through to him, to bring him back.

After a while, he takes a cautious step forwards. You don't move away.

"Can we talk?" The question is one you've heard him ask once, when he first confessed his feelings to you.

He doesn't typically engage in conversation, but times are difficult. Changes need to be made. You take him up on his offer.

"Yes. Come down here." Your words are stilted and sound forced. Your heart pounds in your chest as he comes down to you, every movement careful and precise.

When he reaches the same level as you, he keeps his distance, backed up against the railing, allowing you to make the boundary.

He's never been good with this kind of thing. Vulnerability. It isn't easy for him. Which surprises you even more when he begins the conversation.

"Is there anything I can do? To help?" You stare blankly for a second before shrugging. "I don't know." You want everything to stop. You can't stand it.

"I'll keep my distance, if that's what you want." "I don't." The words slip out without warning. For once, your body doesn't stop you from trying to reach out to him. It's the truth. If it's going to hurt with or without him, you want him anyways.

"I want," you search for the words, forcing your head down, staring at the deck. "You. With me." You say it to the wooden boards of the deck, trying to keep yourself balanced as the pent up emotions threaten to overtake you.

"But I need to go back to the start. With the touching." You're surprised at how well the words come out.

Zoro hadn't been overly touchy before you were together, but after a while, the two of you were nearly always touching in some way. He already misses it, but he knows he'll do whatever it takes. You're worth it.

"Yes. Of course." He bows his head to you, nervously.

You think back to the beginning. The first days with him. Small touches. Nothing too strong. Brushing hands, gently pressing against each other when there was no room for personal space.

He used to kiss your hand.

It had made you laugh when he first did it, mocking some romantic man the two of you had been watching. It grew into a joke, and then it was serious. Any time he wanted to make you smile, he would kiss your hand.

And so, as an offering of new beginnings, you slowly walk across the deck towards him, pushing away the memories from that day.

He stays still, trying not to scare you. You take his hand and he lets you guide it up towards your face. His hand is warm in yours.

"Start small." You whisper to yourself, reminding him of the way you spoke to him in the beginning.

"Let's start small." He had said, knowing neither of you were ready to dive in, to have the full experience off the bat.

"Okay." He said quietly, barely a breath in the wind. You lift his hand up, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it.

He's glad it's dark and nobody else can see him because his face is as red as they come.

You can tell though. The slightly flustered look is all you need to see to know he's the exact same shade as a tomato.

You smile and his heart flutters.

"I love you Zoro." The words start to flow easier and for a brief moment things feel normal again. "It's nobody's fault, but I'm sorry we have to do this."

He resists the urge to lean over and kiss your forehead. "I tried to attack him. It's my fault we're in this mess."

You let go of his hand and turn your face serious, watching him carefully. "It was nobody's fault. Not mine, not yours, not Luffy or Usopp or Nami's either. The blame lies on that damned man and his hypnotic eyes. And it's over now. Nothing can be done about it." Zoro nods and reaches out a hand, an offering for you to take, if you should want it.

"To new beginnings?" He says gently and you can tell he doesn't expect you to take his hand. Maybe to surprise him, you do.

Your injured arm raises up, the fingers slide between his, lightly holding him. His fingers wrap around your hand, light enough to let you pull away without resistance should you have to. He's strangely good at helping you.

The two of you sit in silence, your hands sitting between you.

Carefully, you try something risky. You lower your hands and move closer. You just want to try. To know if it feels awful.

You press your body to his and he is deathly still. His breath hitches and you wonder if he knows you can tell he's about to cry.

You wrap your free arm around his body, giving him a gentle squeeze. "Your turn." You mumble into his chest. You feel his arm move. Your heart jumps, but you can't tell if it's out of fear or love. You decide to let it happen anyways.

His arm carefully wraps around your back, holding you to him.

You look up to see a single tear dripping down his face, a sight that makes you want to cry yourself.

You decide that you need this. You cry in his embrace as well. It feels like normalcy. It feels like home.

You separate after a while. It's a bittersweet parting, but your hands stay together.

"Tomorrow, please come back to our room." You say quietly. You don't know how this will work, but you know it will, and that's enough.

To new beginnings indeed.

#one piece #one piece live action #opla #opla zoro #opla zoro x reader #zoro x reader #zoro x you

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