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kana-daydreams-library · 6 hours

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++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] during a playful fight between you and yuji, sukuna decides to make an appearance and air out yuji’s dirty secrets.

[cws] fem reader. dubcon. lewd use of sukuna’s tummy mouth. exhibitionism -> you’re in public but no one is around. one mention of a misogynist comment from sukuna. yuji thinks about you a lot. unedited.

“Do you …hah, do you give up yet?” Yuji pants as he has you pinned underneath him, sweat dripping off the ends of his hair and landing on your forehead.

You’d cringe and shrink away if you weren’t so determined to win this mock fight (never mind that you were drenched in your own sweat, as well).

“Absolutely not.” You grit out, hips futilely bucking up to try and get him off you. He barely budges, even having the nerve to laugh as he watches you struggle. You can hear Nobara booing quite enthusiastically, while Megumi grumbles about being late for class and having to hear ‘Gojo’s annoying mouth’.

“Ya know you’re not gonna win, so just give up already and agree to hosting movie night in my dorm this time!”

“Never! No one wants to stare at pin-up posters all night, plus your tv is too small, and your bed always smells like Doritos, and—”

“Geez, just say you hate me, why don’t you.” He rolls his eyes, going to sit back on his haunches as he stays straddling your waist. You kiss at your teeth, trying once more to buck him up while simultaneously bringing your hands up and shoving at his stomach. “And my bed does not smell like Doritos! Does it?” He snaps his head over to look at Nobara and Megumi.

“The cool ranch ones.” Nobara says, and Megumi nods in agreement. “Aka, the nastiest flavor.” Yuji gasps dramatically.

“That’s the best flavor! How dare you…” As he bickers back and forth with Nobara, you focus a little cursed energy into your hands. “…says the girl who eats pickles with whipped cream like she’s pregnant or someth—!”

In the blink of an eye you’ve got Yuji on his back as you straddle his stomach, a triumphant grin on your face as you keep your hands on his shoulders to keep him pinned flat against the ground. “Aha!”

“That’s cheating!” Yuji frowns up at you.

“No, it isn’t! It’s called strategizing.”

“Cheating!”

“I’m going to class.” Megumi begins to walk off, hands stuffed in his pockets, and you shout after him.

“Movie night is in my dorm!”

“Hey!” Yuji interrupts.

“Bring good snacks only!” You finish, and then Nobara is the next to go, jogging to catch up with Megumi as she flashes the both of you an amused grin.

“Cheater.” Yuji grumbles once it’s just you two, and you snicker as you let go of his shoulders and sit up, not bothering to stand up just yet. “Using cursed energy against your friend… you should be ashamed.”

“You literally threw a spear at me yesterday and it almost killed me.”

“That’s different! We were training, and I didn’t mean to throw it that hard.” His expression turned sheepish as he avoided your eyes, and you pursed your lips as you tapped his nose with the pad of your index finger. He wriggled it in response, and you softly laughed as you did it again.

“It’s fine, just know that you had it coming when I try to kill you in the future, mkay?” He blinks up at you.

“You’re creepy, you know that?”

“Says the boy with a third eyeball on his cheek.” This time you do cringe, watching as the red eye blinks open before settling on you.

“Wha—Sukuna!” Yuji snaps, hand moving to slap over the eye and cover it. “You should probably go now before he fully wakes up … you know how he is.” A pink hue bleeds into Yuji’s cheeks as he averts his eyes, and you feel your own face warm as you nod.

“Yeah,” you agree. Sukuna had always been insufferable from the moment you befriended Yuji, always piping up with mean, critiquing comments that bordered on being cruel. The comments had started with him bashing your fighting skills during your trainings with Yuji, quips of ‘you’re so slow - it’s a wonder you aren’t dead yet’, or ‘women on the battlefield is a bad fucking joke - hasn’t anyone ever taught you your place’, or ones that had left you teary-eyed and which you refuse to repeat.

Yeah, Sukuna was an asshole, which wasn’t a surprise to anyone, and you’d rather not have your day ruined before you even made it to your first class.

“I’ll see you tonight, Yuji.” You place your hands on his chest, about to use him to push yourself up to your feet, but a low, raspy voice has you stopping in your tracks.

“You’re sitting on my mouth.” Sukuna abruptly says, and you blink in confusion, your eyes flitting between Yuji’s and where you’re sitting.

“What?”

“Y-You should go now,” Yuji tries, but Sukuna is talking again and drowning him out.

“Your pussy, that hot thing between your legs, it’s on my mouth. See?” Something moves underneath you, and you flinch at the sound of fabric tearing before a yelp is leaving your mouth when something thick, damp and warm is pushing up between your legs and pressing against your clothed cunt. “You should be careful where you put that thing, y’know.”

He talks through the mouth on Yuji’s hand, and your fingers curl into the fabric of his shirt as Sukuna swipes his tongue against you again, his saliva wetting the fabric of your underwear.

“Sukuna, st—”

“Sit back and shut up.” Yuji falls silent in an instant, and a wave of panic washes over you when you see his eyes gloss over and his head fall back against the grass, black markings etching their way onto his face. A grin stretches across his face, and hands move to lock around your hips, fingers pushing into your flesh as he makes sure you can’t go anywhere. “That’s better.”

“Y-Yuji?” You sound breathless, and you gasp when his tongue worms its way past your panties to swipe in-between your folds. “Yuji!”

“Relax,” he rolls his eyes, “the brat is still here. Watching and listening, he’s not gonna miss a thing, don’t you worry.” You don’t know if that’s worse or better—Yuji being aware of what’s happening, being able to see your face contort each time that tongue flicks at your clit, being able to hear the noises you try and fail to subdue.

“Stop,” your voice sounds weak to your own ears, and Sukuna guffaws, tongue forcing its way up into your cunt, the action eliciting a lewd squelch as he rubs against your walls.

“Stop.” He parrots back at you, hands tightening around your hips, and you duck your head down when his tongue leaves your hole to instead focus its attention back on your clit. “I don’t know what the brat gets all worked up about—yeah, you’ve got a sweet pussy and a nice pair of tits, but you’re a real fuckin’ tease. Rolling around with a boy in that flimsy little skirt and grinding your cunt up against him. Tch.”

“I wasn—Sukuna!” You jump when his teeth graze against your folds, the thought of him possibly biting you making a shiver of fear run up your spine.

“He wants to fuck you.” He couples the reveal with a harsh suck. “Fuck this cunt that I’m tonguing down - the pervert can’t go five minutes in a room with you without thinking about it.” Your ears burn as a fresh wave of slick rushes out of you, thighs trembling where they rest around his thick waist. “He’s too worried about scaring you off to do anything about it, though… but I don’t think he has anything to worry about, does he? Look at you.”

A whimper leaves your mouth, and you quickly sink your teeth into your bottom lip, not succeeding in blocking out the slurping, tacky sounds coming from between your legs. You want to stand up, get his mouth away from you so you can think straight, because your mind is all jumbled and fuzzy and screwy, and his words, his crude words that always made your skin hot and your stomach churn, is making it churn for another reason now.

“Won’t you give him a show, hm?” You barely register his words, and you yelp when his hand makes contact with your ass, fingers kneading at the doughy flesh as he repeats his earlier words. “Take your tits out.”

“No,” you warble, your hands weakly pushing at his wrists, a poor attempt to get him to stop moving your hips back and forth, forcing your cunt to side back and forth over his flattened tongue. “Sukuna, please.”

“Take ‘em out yourself, or I’ll do it for you and leave you to walk back to your dorm with nothing on.” You hesitate, eyes wet as you nervously lick at your lips, and when he makes a move for your shirt, you quickly begin to undo the buttons, fingers clumsy as they fumble repeatedly. “Good pet.”

Your blouse falls open as you undo the last button, revealing the pink bra you have on underneath, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you pull the cups of your bras down, fully exposing yourself Sukuna’s eyes .. and Yuji’s, too oh God.

The reminder that Yuji can see everything that’s happening sends a fleet of butterflies to your stomach, and you kick yourself mentally when you find yourself jutting out your chest just a bit. Does he like them, the thoughts zips through your mind, and you don’t have time to question where the hell it came from before hands are roughly squeezing at them, calloused fingers pinching and twisting at your nipples.

“Are they as good as you imagined, kid? Cause you imagine them a lot.” Sukuna smirks, and then he’s snapping his eyes up to yours. “You wanna know what he thinks about doing to them?” His tongue lazily laps at your folds, occasionally parting them to venture down to your clenching hole and take a dip inside before repeating the process.

Sukuna doesn’t wait for your answer.

“He thinks about putting his cock between them, pushing them together so it’s nice and tight and fucking them.” He demonstrates, hands pushing your breasts together, and you can’t help but watch his hands as they grope and fondle you. “Thinks about how they’d bounce when he’s got you riding his cock.” His hands leave your breasts to instead grip your hips, and you gasp when easily lifts you, just to drop you back down onto his tongue, the appendage sliding into your cunt and reaching deep.

“Sukuna!”

He continues to lift you up and down, forcing you to ride his tongue, and his eyes stay locked on your bouncing breasts, lips still fixed in that same smirk. “You gonna come?” You feel as if his words are directed at more than just you. He moves you faster, nails biting into your skin, and your face contorts into one of bliss as you hold onto his wrists as tight as you can, eyes fluttering shut as your pussy clamps down.

He pulls you down for the final time, mouth latched onto your cunt as you come, greedy gulps and sucks sounding as he swallows down your slick, his hands moving from your hips to your back. He roughly pulls you towards his face, and a whimper-y moan forces itself out of you as his lips wrap around a stiff nipple, teeth sinking in before he’s soothing the sting away with his tongue.

You sag against him, ragged breaths disturbing tufts of pink hair, and the aggressive sucking on your breast morphs into softer, gentler sucks, the nails that had been scratching at your back replaced with gentle caresses, and the tongue and mouth that had been abusing your now puffy and sore cunt is gone.

“Yuji.” You sigh, and he hums around you before his whole body goes stiff, tongue pausing its gentle swipe against your nipple, and hands slowly moving away from you. The heat against your chest is sweltering, and you push yourself up on shaky arms, tiredly blinking down at his red face.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t know he would do that or say those things! I-I don’t even know why he said all those things, I don’t think about you like that, I swear!” He goes off into a tangent, eyes darting between your face and your breasts, and you sigh again before leaning back down to push your lips against his.

The kiss is chaste and quick, and when you pull back your face is as hot as his, and you become acutely aware of your state of dress, hands fumbling to fix your bra and redo your shirt as you avert your gaze.

“What was that for?”

“You… you wouldn’t stop talking.” You defend as you fix the last button, and then you’re struggling to your feet before Yuji finally frees himself from his stupor and helps you. He pulls away from you and takes a few steps back, the both of you staring at each other in silence for a bit, and your eyes widen when you see his shirt has been ripped away around the stomach, the skin there wet from you and his happy trail glistening with your juices.

“I-”

“You-”

“Sorry, you go.” You both interrupt each other again.

“He-”

“We-”

You heave out a breath as he groans, and when he goes to say something else to wave your hands back and forth, stopping him short. “Let’s never talk about this again.”

“Oh… okay! Yeah! Okay! Lips are sealed.” He motions to lock his lips and throw away the key, and you can’t help but smile just a bit.

“Okay.” You nod, hands twisting together, and there’s another uncomfortable silence before he speaks up again.

“I can, um, walk you to class?”

“Oka—oh, your shirt.” You gesture to his ruined uniform, and he looks down as his eyebrows raise.

“How’d that happen—oh, yeah.” He looks at you, and you roll your lips into your mouth. “I guess I should change then.” You nod. “I’ll see you tonight then, right? For movie night?” Could you really sit through a movie with him after what Sukuna just did, after what he told you? An ache starts as you recall what he had revealed to you, and your eyes meet Yuji’s as you nod again.

“Yeah. Tonight.”

#kana's jjk recs #kana's recs_sukuna #18+

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kana-daydreams-library · 6 hours

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Damn, that unwanted images fic? I can imagine sukuna constantly trying to trick Yuuji into giving Sukuna his body just for a bit so he can go seduce reader. Maybe even pop out and whisper filthy nothings whenever she passes by cause she has to know about what he wants to do to her.

[cws] fem reader. sukuna being a pervert. groping. minor scent kink activities. oral. i think this is dubcon… one big unedited ramble tbh. writing sukuna is hard!

Being around Yuji could sometimes be… tiring, to say the least.

He’s a nice guy, very nice, funny too - he’s made you laugh to tears on quite a few occasions, and he’s cute to top it all off. Everyone you spoke to always have good things to say about him, and you have to admit that you do, too—even if his preference in partners had made you raise your eyebrows when you first heard it.

So, with this in mind, you always try to ignore Sukuna and his ‘antics’, although it was getting increasingly more difficult to ignore the curse’s brazen words when they were blurted out in the midst of a silent classroom, or whenever you happened to pass by Yuji in the hallway, or even when he had managed to pin you in an innocent enough position during training.

You couldn’t count how many times you had been left with your mouth gaping and hot in the face due to the comments Sukuna threw your way. They were always crude, brash, lewd, and left you with a strange twisting feeling deep in your gut — it was weird. The words were Sukuna’s, obviously, but if you didn’t look at the mouth sprouted on Yuji’s cheek, or pay too much heed to the deep, rough drawl of the voice speaking, you could pretend that it was Yuji saying those words, and for some reason that made it all seem a tad bit better…but not by much.

You had spoken with Gojo about it, as much as you hadn’t wanted to. Talking with your past teacher about the strange obsession that the curse inhabiting your friend’s body had with you was at the very top of your list of things you absolutely never wanted to fucking do, but you had to do something.

Sukuna’s comments were getting out of hand, his most recent having kept you from venturing to the training field — you had been engaged in a spar against Maki, attempting to work on your hand to hand combat, when you had heard that unmistakeable voice, his attention fully piqued by the presence of you - and while you never liked to be full of yourself, it was common knowledge that he only made his presence so obnoxiously obvious either when you were in sight of Yuji was banging on death’s door.

At first, you had thought he was rudely critiquing you like he usually did, commenting on your speed and how you were just so slow, you’d be dead in a fight against someone who was actually strong, or one of the many other things he liked to say to get your spirits low, but no, he was in a different mood that day.

Maki had just tossed you onto the ground for the umpteenth time, and you had decided to call it quits then, desperately wanting to submerge yourself in a hot bath to try and soothe your aching body.

Yuji, who had been observing from the side and having a somewhat one-sided conversation with Inumaki, had sensed your beaten to smithereens will and hauled you up off the ground, a smile on his face as he tapped you on the shoulder and gave you a bit of encouragement, only for the good deed to immediately be overshadowed when Sukuna spoke.

You hadn’t caught it at first, or rather, you had tried to pretend that you didn’t actually hear what he had said, because there was no way in hell that you wanted to acknowledge that he, in front of all of these people, had made a comment about how your shorts were just ‘so damned snug that he could practically see your clit—do you even have on any panties?’.

He had no problem repeating himself, even throwing some new things in, things that made your ears burn and the hairs at the back of your neck raise and your stomach flutter when you took on Yuji’s sheepish expression coupled with the way his eyes kept flitting down to between your legs and off to the side.

Recounting the many tales to Gojo had been humiliating, and his amazed ooh’s and ahh’s hadn’t made it any better, but you had desperately wanted some kind of resolution to all of this. He was the strongest, after all, so surely he could do something? Muzzle him at the very least?

“I’m afraid that’s out of my capabilities—aww, don’t look at me like that, I want to help you, but there’s not much of anything I can do.” He had been wearing his blindfold as he usually did, but you were certain that had been a hint of amusement in his eyes as he spoke, as if this was some funny story and not a serious matter that required a serious resolution. “I can’t control who Sukuna takes a liking, too, even if it is one of my beloved students. As it stands, he can’t do much of anything but talk. Yuji has him under control in that aspect, so you’ll just have to grin and bear unfortunately.”

There was only so much grinning and bearing you could take — Sukuna was unrelenting. While the comments had been sparse before, they were now frequent. You couldn’t go a single day without some part of your body being commented on.

Wearing skirts earned you comments on your thighs of how soft they looked, of how they’d feel wrapped around his head as he tongued your cunt, of how he wanted to mark them up with his teeth, his hands, his nails. So you wore pants next, only for him to admire the way they hugged your ass, and oh, he sees, you’re showing off for Yuji now, ya know he’s an ass man, is that what this is? The want the brat to fuck you instead of him, a real man, a man that can make you cry and moan and cream on his cock with little to no effort?

If your shirt happened to be a bit tight that day around your breasts, you could bet your life and win that Sukuna was gonna tell you ten different ways that he would fuck them, eventually. He’d describe it in vivid detail; how your tits would look squeezed around his cock, how he’d cover them in his cum (don’t worry, he’d be considerate enough to lick it off of you, as long as you didn’t squirm too much when he latched onto your pretty nipples), how they’d bounce when he’d fuck you—and don’t make that face, he knows you like what he’s saying. You don’t? Then let Yuji reach in your panties and see if you’re wet or not. No? It’s fine, he knows you are, just too shy and prudish to admit it.

You’re careful eating consuming certain foods and drinks around him, but when he made a remark about how greedily you gulped down your water after a morning run, wondering aloud if you ‘guzzle cum down just as eagerly’, you chose to forfeit your basic human needs in his presence altogether.

It seemed like you couldn’t do anything around Yuji without it being turned into something perverse, and after much contemplation, you decided to just avoid him all together. It took a lot of detours and changes of your schedule to ensure you wouldn’t run into him, along with skipping out on hanging with your other friends because he’d be there, but you managed. It was incredibly boring and dull, and you found yourself lazing around your room more often than not, but you figured this was better than listening to the many ways Sukuna wanted to fuck you.

You’re in your room now, fingers massaging a new moisturizer into your cheeks as you only halfway pay attention to the show that’s playing on the tv. You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a baggy sweater that you couldn’t remember who you had snagged from, and was nearly ready to retire for the night.

A knock at your door draws your attention away from the tv, and thinking it’s more than likely Nobara come to once again lament about how pissed she is that you took a rain check on yet another outing with them (the trio had ventured out into the city earlier) you move to open it without thinking.

“If you’re here to scream at me for staying in tonight, I’m gonna need you to make it quick. My show is…” Your words die on your tongue when your eye finally clash against red ones, and there’s a lurch in your chest when Sukuna steps into your room, lips twisted into a grin as he invades your space. “…Yu—!”

You help when his hand shoots out to snag ahold of your jaw, fingers pushing into your cheeks as he quirks a brow. “I know you’re not stupid enough to call me by another man’s name, right?” Your hand is still gripping the door knob, and it tightens as you jerkily nod, eyes wide and unblinking as the gravity of the situation takes its time weighing on your shoulders.

He smushes your cheeks together, a hum leaving him as he turns your head side to side, and you can’t help the feeling that he’s appraising you, ogling you, judging you, just as he had been when he wasn’t in control, and all the things he had said suddenly come rushing back to the front of your mind.

A choked noise manages to escape you, and his grin widens, his free hand pushing yours away from the door so he can push it closed. “Wonderin’ what I’m gonna do to you?” He guesses, and you make another noise, your hands itching to do something. You are a sorcerer, not the strongest but definitely not the weakest, but this is Sukuna standing in front of you, what could you possibly do against him?

He takes another step forward, and the cologne that Yuji frequently wears wraps around you and makes your head spin. “I was wondering the same thing on my way over.” His front presses flush to yours, and you jump when something firm and big pushes into your hip, the hand that had been on your face dropping to rest against the side of your neck, thumb positioning itself underneath your chin so he can tilt your head up. “What to use first… your mouth,” he eyes your lips, and a shaky breath leaves them at that moment, “these tits,” his free hand gropes you through your sweater, and you yelp and jump in his hold, protests stuttered out as he kneads and squeezes at the flesh.

“S-Sukuna, you can’t—”

“Or this fat little cunt you’ve got.” The hand that had been on your chest dips low, and you both make a sound when his fingers are met with a sticky, clear fluid. He snarks out a laugh, and you furiously shake your head as your skin burns. “You’re fucking wet.”

“I’m not!” He pushes a finger up against your clit through the cotton of your panties, and you cross your ankles in an attempt to keep him from rubbing against you, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He presses against you harder, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you weakly push at his forearm. There’s the fleeting thought that Yuji is somewhere in there seeing this, and it’s almost enough to have you melting into an embarrassed puddle of goo, but then Sukuna is saying something about being on ‘borrowed time’ while lowering himself to his knees in front of you.

You gape down at him, hurriedly trying to scramble back, but his hands come up to grip the backs of your thighs, the look he gives you making you stay put. Once he sees you’re not going anywhere, he loosens his grip on your legs, hands venturing up until he’s roughly gripping at the fat of your ass, gaze fixed on your face as you fight to keep it somewhat expressionless… although by the pleased look on his face you’re sure that you’re failing.

“You should revel in the knowledge that I’ve never kneeled before anyone else.”

With a harsh tug your underwear is pooled around your ankles, and Sukuna is roughly pushing up the material of your sweater, his head moving in until you can feel his breath fanning over the curly hairs covering your cunt. A misplaced stroke of insecurity covers you as he takes in the sight, and you don’t want to ponder about why you seem to care if he prefers a full shave or not, because you shouldn’t.

You should kick him away, king of curses be damned. He could cut you into a million pieces with a swipe of his finger, but still! You should do something other than just stand here and allow him to—

He buries his nose into your mound, a deep groan sounding as you hear him breathe in your scent, and your breath catches in your throat as your knees wobble, hands flying to his shoulders as you steady yourself.

You sweater covers his head as he lets it go to instead spread apart your lips, and you can’t help the gasp that comes out when he immediately begins to lap at your cunt, tongue moving from your clit to your hole and back again.

It’s too much too soon, and noises that you’d be horrified at making later tumble out of your mouth as Sukuna messily eats you out, one hand harshly gripping at your ass. His tongue feels as if it’s everywhere all at once, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge in no time, hips unconsciously rocking against his mouth, calves tensed as you stretch your on your toes, fingers curling into the material of his hoodie.

“Suh…Su-kuna,” a broken cry of his name falls from your lips as you come, his tongue pushing impossibly deep into you as his hand tugs you closer. The sound of him slurping at your slick is loud in the room, and the bruising grip on your ass trades in for a caress, the harsh sucking at your cunt switching to slow, languid licks that threaten to throw you into overstimulation,

When the fog clears, you stiffen, face screwing up and eyes widening as you look down at the lump in your sweater. Before any thoughts can come, he’s pulling back, pink hair coming into view as your sweater falls away from him, and you think you may just die on the spot when take note of the lack of black markings marring his face.

“…Yuji?”

#kana's jjk recs #kana's recs_sukuna #18+

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kana-daydreams-library · 7 hours

Text

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze.

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too.

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling.

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?”

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded.

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?”

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it.

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.”

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back.

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh.

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.”

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?”

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy.

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.”

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?”

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?”

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face.

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder.

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.”

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.”

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.”

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?”

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?”

“Not really what I’m into.”

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.”

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?”

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day.

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on.

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry.

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled.

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said.

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.”

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?”

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?”

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.”

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?”

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?”

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.”

“You always look nice.”

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.”

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.”

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said.

“Better how?”

“You can probably run in it.”

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep.

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on.

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.”

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty?

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs.

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from.

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened.

“Because of… clothing?”

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.”

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?”

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.”

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until—

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling.

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size.

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising.

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.”

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it.

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?”

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—”

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.”

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?”

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp.

“Let me see.”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively.

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.”

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—”

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

“Oh.”

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.”

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point.

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked.

“You’re acting weird.”

“Am not.”

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.”

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.”

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins.

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid.

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—”

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.”

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.”

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him.

“I said you looked pretty in this one.”

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—”

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.”

Your breath caught.

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?”

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.”

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!”

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart.

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.”

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline.

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.”

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go.

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change.

#kana's op recs #kana's recs_zoro #addicted❤️#this was so well-written from beginning to end #i loved the interactions between zoro and the reader. it felt so real🥰

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kana-daydreams-library · 8 hours

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hii 💓 can i get a fluff drabble of zoro realizing reader (preferably fem reader) is the person he wants to spend the rest of his life if, like when and how would the realization hit him?

only if u want too! thank you for you amazing works 🎀

Hi pretty! Thanks for your request and your nice words. I hope you enjoy this ♡

Revelation

Roronoa Zoro x fem!reader

Zoro has a revelation.

note: feels and fluff. sfw. established relationship. cw: 1,1k

Zoro is very aware of himself, especially that he's not an emotional person, more logical and calculating. Years of training have made him a disciplined and self-demanding man. He knows that emotional outbursts only lead to desperation, and desperation to defeat. And Zoro would never lose to anyone again. So why did he feel like such a loser around you?

It's a damn mystery how all the confidence and strength disappears from his body when you're around, especially when you look at him that way and smile so warmly. How your hands held him with so much grace and how your kisses tore him from hell and raised to the gates of heaven. He still wonders how you accepted a man like him being by your side.

At first Zoro tried everything in his power to be stronger in front of you, even leaving his pride aside and asking for the help of Sanji, the person with the most experience in that kind of thing he knows, to understand his own mind. But that is not functional, his words and mockery made no sense. Zoro couldn't fall in love, he thought back then. Zoro couldn't be in love with you. It was silly, but… But it was, and as much as he wanted to deny it or ignore it, his heart only seemed to beat for you since the revelation of his feelings. He didn't believe you would be able to reciprocate his feelings, and he would like to say that he was brave enough to accept that, but that would be a vile lie. Your rejection terrified him more than fighting a dragon. The thought of losing you in some way still terrifies him today. Luckily for him, his feelings were never one-sided.

He remembers when his feelings were exposed thanks to jealousy. The crew had just helped an island and that night they celebrated with a banquet at dusk. Zoro was standing next to the older men drinking in peace, enjoying the alcohol and the adults' stories, but his eyes kept turning to your figure. The summer dress danced gracefully with every move you made as you danced with Nami and the villagers together. Your laughter reached his ears like the sweet melody of sirens to sailors, but instead of taking him straight to an atrocious death, you lifted him to heaven. Everything was going perfectly, until Sanji asked you to dance, the bitterness of jealousy invaded him, but it was only the tip of the iceberg. After the curly eyebrow walked away from you a line of men waited their turn to dance with you, each one more daring than the last. Zoro couldn't take it anymore. The alcohol felt tasteless in his mouth, which led him to drink too much, so much so that he found himself walking towards you, dragging your body away from the center of the men.

It was a great relief that you took it with fun, letting yourself be guided away from everyone, corresponding to his hungry kiss with the same passion. And that the next day you would greet him with a small kiss on the lips. Since then both were in a relationship. No words or formalities were necessary, your connection went beyond that.

He is proud to be your man and to be able to call you his woman. His own body, soul and mind belong only to you.

That day he woke up early in the morning, the sun was just rising in the East. His body was warm thanks to yours pressed against his side. His arms held you firmly and his hand came up to run over your face. The sensation that invaded him felt like a blow, the sensation that led him to bring you as close as he could to his body and breathe in your smell. It was a mixture of desperation, fear, longing and love all together and it left a nostalgic taste in his chest.

Now that his gaze was on you, he returned to that feeling. Sitting at the top of the crow's nest, the sunset highlights your silhouette and illuminates your face. You're wearing a ruffled white blouse that makes you look like you're a mere figment of his imagination. No one could look like that in reality. Except you did. You do. You are very real and that terrified him beyond belief. The sensation became more intense, but also lighter.

As if Zoro had called you with his mind, hears you scream his name and his throat goes dry. Oh, lord. His name on your lips sounds like the song of the birds at dawn, the light breeze of the evening, like the sound of the calm sea against the shore of the beach. His heart feels weak. With your hand you invite him to climb, and despite the distance, he can see how delicate they are. Hands made for softness, for caresses and love. Zoro thinks about his own hands, big, rough, full of calluses and scars. His hands weren't made to hold yours, he thought like a revelation. And the idea hurt like a stab in the back. As you are made for worship and he… He was willing to worship you from afar.

Think about how you belong up there, tall and glorious, like a holy goddess to whom he would pray every dawn and every dusk. How he belonged down there, to the mundane and cruel world, where he would be a faithful devotee of your image.

Zoro wants to spend the rest of his life admiring you. He wants to spend the rest of his life with you. The feeling in his chest disappears with a smile on his face. He loves you. He loves you for life. And it's terrifying and so wonderful at the same time. He loves you, a lot.

You tilt your face, noticing Zoro's gaze. It seems like he's looking past you, and you allow yourself to get lost in his image. You can't deny it, you have accepted it from the first moment, Zoro is in your eyes a man worthy of praise. His determination, loyalty, bravery and his heart of gold, hidden behind that great armor with a serious and stoic face, have stolen your soul. You can feel your eyes fill with eyes, your chest full of love. And you go down quickly until you reach him. He awaits you with open arms, with a face full of peace and love. Think that the way you get closer is what it feels like to be close to heaven. It is an image you will treasure for the rest of your life. You love Zoro with all your heart and soul.

“What's wrong Zoro?” you ask softly, holding his face in your hands, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Nothing,” he answers, taking your hands in his. They fit perfectly. “I just had a revelation.”

#kana's op recs #kana's recs_zoro #addicted❤️#this is one of the best zoro fic i've ever read!#this was so sweet!#i loved it sm❤😭

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kana-daydreams-library · 1 day

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୨୧. 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

: ̗̀➛ following a job, toji wants nothing more than to spend time with the person who makes him feel more man than monster.

pairing: toji x afab!reader cw: not much, but i'll give a warning for suggestive themes near the end! very slice of life. the two of you shower together, just talk about your day and plan a date for tomorrow :) wc: ~2.3k an: currently pushing the 'toji is so, so soft with you when he's in love agenda'. blame my moscow mule and whiskey shot for this.

there's something about not having to pretend, about not having to put up a front, that makes toji realize just how tired he is.

his job is finally done, a few hits followed by using some not so friendly methods to gather up a bit of information for one of his clients.

throngs of people, neon lights and the honking of cars fade into echoes as he takes the local subway lines toward your neighborhood. he taps the fare card at each station's exit, it's balance never running dry.

it's one of the little things you do for him, keeping it stocked, allowing the assassin to get to where he needs to go.

he's so damn excited to see you.

this most recent gig has kept him away for a solid three, maybe four days at this point.

his body barely reacts to the jerks and turns of the train's car, arms crossed as he leans against the wall. there's not many people on the train and it's not like they would sit by him, anyway.

with a small grunt he cracks his neck, allowing his mind to wander. he doesn't need to pay attention; he's confident that nothing will slip past his senses. while he wants to believe that you'll be sound asleep in your shared bed, a part of him figures that you're up waiting for him.

"shit." he thinks, one of his hands absentmindedly running through his hair. he was just in shibuya. maybe he could've grabbed you something from that specialty store you trekked to nearly every weekend or checked if that café was still collabing with the series you'd been gushing about.

the thoughts in his head are all but useless now, the train making it's automated announcement before coming to a rolling stop at the station that had become all to familiar to him these past few months.

he steps off, tapping his card to the reader and resisting to urge to roll his eyes at it's chime.

it's not a far walk, though there's a stark difference between this neighborhood and the rowdy inner city streets. there are no brilliant lights or flashing signs, but the occasional lamppost and crossing signal.

each step to your apartment feels like a weight off his shoulders, the corner of his lips curling into a small smirk as he punches in the code to the front door.

as he enters the apartment, the sliver of light from beneath your door tells him all he needs to know.

he kicks his shoes off and lets out a controlled breath, the bedroom door creaking slightly as he pushes it in and playfully scoffes at the sight of you clinging to consciousness on the bed.

the way your eyes light up, almost squinted as they're squished in by the apples of your cheeks, sends a ripple of warmth through his chest that he can only compare to the sensation of being stabbed. the only difference is that he'd gladly run into your blade, no questions asked.

"i thought i told you not to wait up, angel." he chides, through there's no bite in his words as he walks over until he's standing beside where you're laying on the bed.

his gaze flickers over to the television where one of your shows, a rerun, he's sure, is playing on the screen.

"oh shut up." you rise to a seated position, the blankets pooling at your waist as you continue with what you both know is a lie. "i wasn't tired."

he hums in acknowledgement, the sound so soft that he has to wonder if it really came from him. when you hop out of bed, standing before him, his brows raise in mild curiosity, his hands coming up to rest at your waist as he silently marvels at the warmth clinging to you.

"sure, angel." his thumbs lightly massage your skin over your clothes. "so what's the plan then?"

whatever show you're watching is quickly forgotten. you shrug, your hands resting on his. tilting your head toward the bathroom, you respond. "shower. you're not getting in bed all gross like that."

he doesn't protest, instead lowering his head and nudging it against yours, taunting you with a smirk. toji is aware that the scent of cigarettes and the stale air of some shitty bar cling to him like an unwanted coat. "who're ya callin' gross, huh? i'm clean enough."

yet, even as he speaks, he's guiding you toward the bathroom with a strong palm resting on your lower back.

the true white lights cast a somewhat harsh glare on the room, but the familiarity of your touch, of the sanctuary that is your apartment, only serves to soften him.

you navigate through the space with ease, the pipes hissing as the shower comes to life. it takes only a second for water to start spraying, the curtain rod clinking as you patiently wait for things to heat up.

"how'd the job go, anyway?" your hands find the hem of his shirt, gently tugging it up. he gets the hint, tossing the garment off to the side without hesitation before he does the same for you. “it was a long one.”

he doesn't bother hiding his admiration for your bare flesh, a noise of approval emanating from his chest as he leans forward and places a kiss on your cheek before helping you with your bottoms. the routine is familiar, grounding, to the man who thought he'd sworn off of any sort of domesticity.

the light thud of your clothes hitting the floor is drowned out by the sound of water droplets pitter pattering against the walls of the bathtub. "don't worry about that shit, angel." he replies, not unkind, eyes twinkling with amusement as he wraps his arms around you and brings you closer. "it's not for you."

it's hard fighting the instinct to roll your eyes, the water starting to heat up as indicated by the slow building of steam in the bathroom. the warmth of his body is much welcomed, your hands busying themselves with grabbing a shower cap and stretching it over your head.

"oh, c'mon, i can handle it." you protest, ever curious about the things he sees, the things he does. "i watch dateline, i know all about crime."

your words earn a chuckle from him, felt more than heard, his head lifting as he angles you toward the tub. "that right? sorry to burst your bubble, but it's not the same." his free hand comes up to press against your shower cap, the plastic wrinkling under his touch. he's always thought the accessory made you look silly, another gruff chuckle leaving him as his palm lightly swats at your ass. "get in already, it's cold."

the echo of your laughter is a siren's call he isn't about to leave unanswered. he steps in with you, a steady stream of water cascading down his skin and melting away the tension that had been clinging to his frame these last few days.

he's content to be pampered by you, to listen to you, to exist in your presence without pretense. for so long his life had been a series of transactions, whether he was selling his skills or himself. but here, he doesn't feel the need to put up any walls or act like something he's not.

with you, he's just a man.

a satisfied grunt leaves him as you massage body wash into his chest, your hands expertly spreading the soapy mix into the muscle before sliding them up to his shoulders. he can't help but take note of how focused you are, the sight almost comical, especially with that stupid shower cap atop your head.

"you're just feelin' me up now." he accuses, though he makes no move to stop you.

your hands pause for a moment as you let out a sarcastic chuckle, encouraging him to stand under the spray of water to rinse off. "there's not much to feel." you lie, doing your best to remain serious, but a smile unwillingly curls at your lips.

he hums in amusement, knowing damn well that you purred like a cat when you had your face pressed into his chest. "you're a fuckin' liar." he points out without much remorse, his eyes tracking your every movement while he purposefully flexes the muscle beneath your fingertips. "but sure, tell me there ain't nothing there."

in your mind, he's the one acting like a cat, his head tilted back and a lazy smirk on his face. it makes you want to snicker, push his buttons in that way you know he likes. "i spoil you too much."

"hm? sounds like a you problem." he lowers his head, your comment igniting a familiar playfulness. then, it's replaced with a rare sort of thoughtfulness, one of his hands coming up to rest on your hip.

he remembers what he was thinking about on the train, perhaps wanting to do a little spoiling of his own. "say, why don't we head to shibuya tomorrow? get you that mug from the café that’s doing that collab shit for the show you like."

toji feels like the best boyfriend for remembering such a small detail, knowing it was sure to earn him some points.

the steam starts to fog the mirror, the water hitting the tub in sporadic splashes as you rinse off your own body wash. your hands wipe some water off your face, shoulders lightly jumping with the laugh you give.

"they stopped doing it, like, two days ago." you reveal, smile a bit too smug.

he's momentarily dumbfounded, silently cursing himself. one of his hands runs through his still wet hair, pushing it back. some annoyed grumbles leave him, lips almost set into a pout. "shit, sorry angel."

truthfully, it's not that big of a deal, and you can't help but be amused by his mannerisms. you nudge him with your elbow, letting him know that not all hope was lost. "a café in kyoto is doing the 'collab shit', too. that one is still open."

"well fuck, why didn't you say that?" he nods, eyes wandering to the ceiling as he mentally maps out his schedule. "tomorrow then, let's go. we'll get ya all that overpriced shit with your favorite character on it."

the sound of your laugh is enough to make him smirk, his eyes following the path of the water as it runs down your skin. a day with his favorite girl, no crappy jobs or seedy clients, sounds like a damn dream.

"what if i had plans already, asshole?" you counter with a grin, challenging him, playfully goading him on as the last of the suds flow down the drain.

his eyes narrow and he scoffs, his demeanor nothing short of puckish. he knows you too well, figuring that the highlight of your day tomorrow would've been going out to grab a coffee or something. "no you fuckin' don't, angel. don't test me."

your lips press together as you ponder your next move, but you relent. "okay, fine, i don’t have anything to do."

"good." he replies, softer now, palm rising to rest on your damp cheek. there's a moment where he just blatantly admires you, thumb running across your lips. "tomorrow. you and me are gonna take the first train to kyoto, alright?"

you loved when he looked at you like that, but oh you hated how it made you feel like a damn school girl. still, you nod and lean into his hand. "yeah. me and you."

it could be from his gaze or from the thick steam in the bathroom, but you figure it'd be wise to get to bed. turning toward the faucet, you reach your hand out to shut the water off.

toji has a different plan though, a part of him not wanting this moment to end quite yet.

"wait, c'mere." he orders, bringing you close as his voice drops to a murmur. "forgot to kiss ya when i came in."

his actions make your stomach flip, your head angling upward to meet his lips for a kiss. his touch is firm, filled with intent, telling you everything you know he feels but struggles to say. a rough palm plants itself on the base of your neck, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.

he can't even begin to explain how you feel against him, his senses honing in on all you have to offer. the heat of your skin, the scent of your body wash, the taste of your lips… hell, he swears he can even hear your heart beating in your chest.

it's not enough for him and he pulls away, only to pepper kisses along your neck and shoulder.

a smile curls at your lips and you sigh in delight, hands planting themselves on his bicep, your thumbs running along the contours of his muscle and the occasional scar. when he pulls you closer, when you feel him, you click your tongue in mock protest.

"you're gonna make it hard to take the first train to kyoto." you whine, though each swipe of his tongue or grazing of his teeth breaks you down even further.

toji seems to know this, his grip on you tightening, his smile felt against your skin. "we'll get ya to kyoto tomorrow, angel." he assures, ensuring you're kept warm under the showerhead. "we can spend all day there. i'll buy you whatever you want, yeah?"

there’s no way you could complain about that, so you let yourself go.

nodding, you succumb to your fate, succumb to him, wholly.

it's a blur from there, but by tomorrow morning, the two of you are on the second earliest train to kyoto.

at your reserved seats, you watch the scenery roll by with interest, everything almost a blur due to the high speed. he's given you the window seat, his frame protectively placed between you and the rest of the train car's occupants.

your head resting on his shoulder, arm hooked comfortably beneath his bicep, toji allows himself a moment of respite, no pretending, no walls.

it's just you and him, and he feels like one lucky bastard.

#kana jjk recs #kana's recs_toji #addicted❤️

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kana-daydreams-library · 1 day

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#anime art

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kana-daydreams-library · 2 days

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only one bed

dialogue prompts

"I guess someone needs to sleep on the floor."

"This will not be awkward at all."

"We're both adults, we can sleep in one bed."

"It does look like a very comfortable bed..."

"One bed is one thing, but only one pillow and one blanket?"

"You will survive sleeping next to me for one night."

"We're both tired, so please just get in."

"It's not like we haven't slept together before."

"This totally does not feel like the movies."

"I will take the couch, it's no problem."

"Quit acting like I have the plague."

"Just put a pillow between us."

"No one needs to sleep in a bathtub, that's ridiculous."

"I don't want to freeze, so just let's get it over with."

"We're friends, this doesn't need to be weird."

"It's just for one night, we can handle that."

More: Bed Sharing Scenarios

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

#writing resources

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kana-daydreams-library · 2 days

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For many moons you have been escaping at night from the cold walls of the palace to a land of wonders through a magic mirror in your chambers. Every dawn you return, the soles of your shoes worn out from dancing and exploring, exhaustion set deep in your bones, however blissful. Should you trust the perfect joy such a place has to offer? Or, better yet, the alluring heir that accompanies you each night? And how could you ever hide this idyllic escape from your father, the king, now that he has some lowborn knight on your tail?

♡ The Night Dance is an interactive story based on the Grimm Brothers’ tale, ‘The Twelve Dancing Princesses.’ Status: DEMO (TBA).

Customize your Main Character, referred to as The Cursed Heir. Pronouns, overall appearance, and personality (based on the choices made throughout the narrative).

Choose your romance. There are two possible romanceable characters in The Night Dance. You can romance each of them individually, opt for no romance at all, or cultivate a poly relationship.

Choose your destiny. Some choices can drastically change the course of the story. Upon revealing truths and unveiling secrets, will your heart or your mind speak for you?

The Night Dance is rated +18 for mature content, depictions of violence, depression, and eventual sexual themes.

Alistair ⋆ he/him or she/her. A lowborn knight making their way home. You don’t know why someone in their position would return after being knighted, or the reason why they took the challenge of unveiling your secret, but you know enough to be wary of them. Valiant, observant, and witty, they’re what anyone would picture when thinking of a knight. Except for the look of sadness that takes over their face whenever they think no one’s paying attention. [+ more]

Cianan ⋆ he/him or they/them. The mysterious dance partner you encounter every night. They have been there from the very first moment you stepped onto the grounds of this otherworldly land, offering their guidance and hand whenever you needed. Curt, cultured, and gentle, they remind you of princes you’ve read about in fairytales. But in fairytales, princes don’t keep their intentions unknown or hide obvious secrets behind tired eyes; it appears, after all, that nothing is as perfect as it seems. [+ more]

The idea for this IF came to me when I was playing @swansong-if, a lovely game that’s become one of my all-time favorites, so I’d definitely have to mention it here. I’d never think of adapting my favorite fairytale into an IF not for it. ♡

#if game

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kana-daydreams-library · 3 days

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Ink and Intrigue: Romantasy IF (WIP)

The title for my upcoming interactive fiction game with Heart's Choice is official: Ink and Intrigue!

Sail to a lush island of warrior-mages where dragon runes grant immortality and love runs deep. When mystery tempts, how do you answer?

Ink an Intrigue is a standalone Heart’s Choice IF fantasy WIP set in the same world as my recent game, Their Majesties' Pleasure.

Play the three-chapter demo of Ink and Intrigue on Dashingdon.

Plunge into a world where magic calls the passion in your soul. Join a clan of immortal warrior-mages and choose your kindred: a powerful dragon, a shapeshifting griffin, or a blue-lightning phoenix.

As you train to become a warrior-mage, do you romance or befriend a tattoo artist, a feisty initiate, a playful sage, or a maverick with an unfulfilled quest?

You’ve been a spy for the kingdom of Minare since you were ten, when the king deemed you too clever and sent you off for training. Now a seasoned spy, you’re sent to infiltrate the Kitherin warrior-mages, whose tattoos give them supernatural abilities and whose blood rites bond them to powerful creatures from another world.

When the call of the Kitherin sounds in your soul, what paths will you take as an initiate?

Shop from the finest market in the nine seas, surf azure waves, and dance at a full moon celebration where you might indulge in magical elixirs and intimate moments. Get dragon rune tattoos and learn to wield their power, show your prowess on the sparring field, and soar in the skies of the otherworld. Arrange a marriage alliance, meddle in the affairs of the mage council, incite a lawful rebellion, or resort to poison to get what you want.

Will you confess the clandestine role you’ve played for your king, or keep your secrets and let the past die? No matter what you’ve done, your lover will stay by your side. When you pass your initiations and bond with your kindred, you will be joining the ranks of the Kitherin warrior-mages who bring balance to the interconnected worlds.

Romance a passionate artist, a Fae-blooded sage, a sassy diva, or a master warrior.

Play as male, female, or nonbinary; gay, straight, bi; asexual; monogamous or polyamorous.

Choose high-heat or sweet options, or avoid spicy scenes entirely.

Dive through portals and explore other worlds.

Bond with a dragon, a griffin, or a phoenix.

Indulge in magic elixirs and delectable food.

Apprentice as a tattoo artist and learn about dragon runes.

Go surfing with your friends beneath a full moon and watch the sun rise over the sea.

Explore a steamy island paradise crowned with temples, magnificent gardens, and a hidden library.

Forge alliances as an emissary, gather intelligence as a spy, decide the fate of a maleficent mage, and shape the leadership of the Kitherin.

Uncover the mysteries of the Kitherin and discover the soul-deep love that awaits!

Keep an eye on this blog for updates or check out the CoG forum thread. I'm currently writing chapter seven of nine, right in the thick of the story.

WIP word count is up to 155k so far.

#if game

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kana-daydreams-library · 3 days

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Our show is coming to NETFLIX on the 31st of May! Please give it a watch if you've been interested. If it does well then we get to make more of it.

#other

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kana-daydreams-library · 3 days

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Character flaws for an anxious character

Constant worrying: Obsessively fretting over even the smallest details.

Overplanning: Creating elaborate contingency plans for every possible scenario.

Indecisiveness: Struggling to make decisions due to fear of making the wrong choice.

Social anxiety: Feeling extremely nervous or uncomfortable in social situations.

Perfectionism: Setting impossibly high standards for themselves and others.

Avoidance behavior: Dodging situations or responsibilities that trigger anxiety.

Overapologizing: Saying sorry for everything, even when it's not their fault.

Hyperawareness of physical sensations: Being overly sensitive to bodily sensations and interpreting them as signs of impending doom.

Catastrophizing: Jumping to the worst-case scenario in any given situation.

Need for reassurance: Constantly seeking validation or reassurance from others.

Rumination: Getting stuck in a loop of negative thoughts and overanalyzing past events.

Difficulty relaxing: Finding it hard to unwind and let go of stress.

Overthinking: Overanalyzing every word or action, leading to anxiety about social interactions.

Physical symptoms of anxiety: Experiencing symptoms like sweating, trembling, or rapid heartbeat in stressful situations.

Avoidance of confrontation: Going to great lengths to avoid conflict or uncomfortable conversations.

People-pleasing: Putting others' needs and desires above their own to avoid conflict.

Overpreparation: Spending excessive time and energy preparing for events or tasks.

Self-doubt: Second-guessing their abilities and decisions due to fear of failure.

Fear of the unknown: Feeling anxious about uncertain or unfamiliar situations.

Imposter syndrome: Believing they are not worthy of their achievements and fearing they will be exposed as a fraud.

#writing resources

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kana-daydreams-library · 3 days

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Some examples of challenging obstacles for characters to face

Personal Tragedy: The sudden loss of a loved one throws the protagonist into a state of grief and despair, forcing them to navigate the complex emotions of mourning while still grappling with their responsibilities and goals.

Betrayal: A trusted friend or ally betrays the protagonist, revealing hidden agendas or turning against them at a critical moment, leaving the protagonist feeling betrayed and alone, and forcing them to reevaluate their relationships and alliances.

Physical Limitations: The protagonist suffers a debilitating injury or illness that threatens to derail their plans and ambitions, leaving them physically weakened and vulnerable, and forcing them to find new ways to adapt and overcome their limitations.

Social Prejudice: The protagonist faces discrimination or prejudice based on their race, gender, sexuality, or social class, making it difficult for them to achieve their goals and forcing them to confront systemic injustice and inequality.

Impossible Choices: The protagonist is faced with a series of impossible choices, each with its own moral or ethical consequences, forcing them to weigh the lesser of two evils and grapple with the fallout of their decisions.

Internal Conflict: The protagonist battles with their own inner demons, such as addiction, trauma, or mental illness, which threaten to sabotage their efforts and undermine their sense of self-worth and purpose.

Rivalry: The protagonist finds themselves locked in a bitter rivalry with a formidable adversary, such as a rival athlete, business competitor, or romantic rival, pushing them to their limits as they strive to outmaneuver and outwit their opponent.

Existential Crisis: The protagonist wrestles with profound existential questions about the meaning of life, the nature of reality, and their place in the universe, confronting their own mortality and searching for purpose and meaning amidst the chaos and uncertainty of existence.

#writing resources

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kana-daydreams-library · 4 days

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nether regions

zoro x reader

plot: you just can't help but check him out when he's got a towel hanging low on his waist

*takes place in the co-ed baths in wano*

The steamy air was thick with the scent of natural minerals and the soft murmurs of the patrons unwinding after a long day. You catch your breath as you get a glimpse of a familiar sight.

Zoro's rugged silhouette cuts through the mist, drawing your gaze. The soft, billowing steam does little to obscure his imposing figure, clad in only a low-set towel.

You watched him stride in the area, his muscles taut beneath the fabric. His presence alone commanded attention. You could see the confidence etched in the lines of his face. With each step he took, the steam parted around him and the fabric of the towel shifted, accentuating the contours of his muscular physique. You were hoping a mysterious wind would come and carry it away.

You could use the towel as a metaphor. That it was a testament to the strength and vitality that lay within him...

Nah, fuck all that.

He was just hot as hell.

And if anything, the way the towel clung to his waist hinted at the strength beneath.

Your eyes were telling you to blink but you couldn't. Gotta make sure you don't miss nothin'. It was such a simple garment yet it had the power to send your pulse racing and skin tingling with anticipation.

His mouth began to move but you couldn't hear a word he was saying. To be fair, he wasn’t even looking at you to begin with.

Puzzled by your lack of response, he turned to face you and his eye contact snapped you out of your reverie. You managed a smile, cheeks flushing slightly. "Sorry, I was just...thinking." you replied, though it was clear that you had been too distracted to comprehend his words.

"Lost in thought, huh?"

"Something like that."

Zoro, despite is usual aloofness, was ever perceptive. He noticed your flushed cheeks and the lust in your eyes. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You should relax." his voice carrying its usual gruffness. "Enjoy the bath."

"Oh I will." you promised.

You're no better than a man.

#kana's op recs #kana's recs_zoro #addicted❤️

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kana-daydreams-library · 4 days

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── 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 ³

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in the aftermath of zoro's fight with mihawk, you and he have some reflecting.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: opla!zoro x apothecary!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: at long last it is finished, tw blood mention, somewhat of an epilogue, no use of Y/N

𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: november

series masterlist

Everything had happened so fast, and all you could do was stand and stare at your hands. You were shaky all over, but your hands especially; your fingertips and palms were stained by the blood you’d tried to stop flowing from Zoro’s chest.

And all you could do was stand and shake.

Only when Luffy’s hand closed around your wrist and he jerked you along with him did you come back to yourself, still gasping for air as tears filled your eyes. “Luffy—Zoro—He’s…”

“He’s fine,” Luffy barked back before softening at the sight of you. “He’ll be fine.”

For once, you doubted him.

You had wanted to beg Zoro to let it go. To plead with him the moment you laid eyes on that Hawkeye. To shout for him to get some sense and wait for a few more years of experience before taking on his last obstacle. But if you did, if you asked him to back down, you feared he would never trust you again.

Angry huffs of breath left Nami, her glare baring into the stubborn swordsman beside you. She was begging and pleading as your heart longed to do, and it took everything in you to stand strong beside your lover.

“Y/N,” she hissed, drawing your eyes up to hers. “You’re gonna let him do this?”

Your hand sought out Zoro’s beneath the table, finding solace in wrapping your fingers around his. “Yes.”

She gaped, hands gripping the table. “He’s going to die! Don’t you love him at all—”

Your whole body jerked as you made to round the table and smack her, when Zoro’s hand tightened around yours, holding you in place. Heart pounding in your ears, you swallowed thickly and sighed shakily.

“Zoro needs to do this,” you nearly spat. “You wouldn’t understand.”

She backed down when she got no help from anyone, storming out of the room with watery eyes. Luffy and Usopp followed soon after, leaving you and your swordsman. Wordlessly, you pulled him to sit beside you at the nearby couch, leaning your head on his shoulder whilst he worked don sharpening his blades.

“Thank you,” he whispered, prompting you to turn your head and kiss his shoulder, fretful tears welling in your eyes.

Close to sobbing, you followed the rest of them as they hauled Zoro’s body onto the ship and down to the galley. It all grew worse at the sight of Zoro’s bloodied body laid upon the table, his brow pinched in agony.

Nami heaved a breath, frantic eyes scanning over Zoro’s wound. Usopp was searching for a first aid kit, finding only your bag of herbs and bottles. It slipped from his shaky hands, the bottles rolling around the kitchen.

Nami narrowed her gaze at you. “Aren’t you a doctor? Do something!”

You shook your head. “I—I’m not—I don’t—I can’t—”

“Luffy,” Nami cut off your rambling. “Go to the restaurant and find a doctor. Go!”

He took off in an instant. You trembled, unable to look away from Zoro. It all moved so fast; the Baratie’s owner and sous chef rushed in after Luffy, the former immediately setting to work cutting up a fish.

“Fish?” you blurted, voice cracking. “How is a fish—”

“Can it,” Zeff snapped, cracking off the fish’s head. “If yer gonna yap, have some liquor.”

You stood gaping at him, eyes wide even as Usopp grabbed the bottle and slowly inched it toward you. Even as you glared you swiped it and took a swig, slamming it back down onto the table.

The liquor snapped you to attention. You stumbled to stand at the end of the table where Zoro’s head lay. A thick and tense silence washed over the galley as Zeff worked, yet it all felt so loud. Your red stained hands drifted to brush Zoro’s hair off his damp forehead.

Zoro winced as Zeff stitched up the largest gash first. One shaky hand moved to feel at your back, a dark part of you musing that you would match when the wound scarred. Like the front and back of a coin.

Shoving the thought down, your fingertips trailed over his cheek, drawing an invisible line down his forehead and nose. Over and over, you gently caressed his face in that circular motion, the crease of his brows softening, and you forced every sound to go dim.

Writhing in pain, your squirming made it difficult for Zoro’s to hold you without hurting you even more. The dingy he’d taken from the now slain pirates drifted back out to sea, abandoned as Zoro raced toward the light of the village.

No one walked the streets in the dead of night, so Zoro shouted, his voice bellowed into the stillness, demanding someone help him. Just as his eyes gazed over your contorted expression, his hopeless howling was answered by a light flooding out from the building on his right.

The woman barely blinked as she ushered him inside, ordering him to lay you on your chest atop her kitchen table. He was talking, muffled sounds barely words stuttering out of him. Vee calmed him best she could, but she couldn’t focus with him bumbling around like this.

“Listen, boy,” she said lowly. “You wanna help her?” She waited for him to nod before going on. “Stand here, right where her head is. Good. Now, you wanna help?”

You whimpered, your head turned to the side so Zoro could plainly see how your whole face reflected misery. He choked the word out, “Yeah.”

“Watch.” She reached out a hand toward your face, and despite his gut instinct to sever her hand, he stood back and watched as Vee pinched her fingertips together and placed them on your forehead, expanding her fingers like a firework and grazing them down the sides of your face.

She repeated the motion, and Zoro sighed out a gasp as the distressed pinch of your brows gave way to a more eased expression. Vee stepped back calmly, nodded at Zoro as she grabbed a set of scissors and cut open your shirt.

Zoro’s eyes immediately found the wound, a thick slash down your back, oozing with your blood, and his chest seized. Vee shot him a glare. “Pull yourself together, pirate hunter.”

He hadn’t introduced himself, and the fact that Vee already deduced who he was irked him, but he snapped to action instantly. He started the same motion as Vee, caressing your face and marveling at how you calmed under his touch.

“Hold her hand,” ordered Vee. She was pouring a bottle of clear liquid onto a rag. “This is gonna sting.”

Even when Vee was done and your wound was bandaged, he continued that firework motion on your face as if in a daze. You would stir in your sleep, a little grin gracing your face at his touch, but when you woke, he was nowhere in sight, the faint memory warming your face.

You cupped a hand over your cheek, inhaling deeply, hand stilling. Zeff glanced up from lining the stitches with fish skin, some old pirate trick he said, and noticed your ministrations to Zoro’s face.

“Who taught you tha’?” Zeff wondered, if only to distract you.

Blinking rapidly, you retracted your hands to your sides. “Uhm. A doctor from Gecko Island.”

Zeff nodded. “Well, don’t stop. Let's ‘im know you’re there.”

He’s between life and death, Zeff went on to say. Talk to him, sing to him for all I care. Let him know you’re here, and maybe he’ll stick to this side of life.

You tried to help move Zoro to your bed, but you felt glued to the ground. Even if you did manage to move, you couldn’t stop shaking no matter how you tried. Sanji, Usopp, and Luffy handled moving him, your eyes following their retreat down the hall.

“Hey,” Nami appeared at your side, her hand resting on your arm. “You there?”

“Mhmm. I’m good.” The quake in your voice said otherwise. “Where is he?”

Nami tugged on your arm, leading you to the bedroom you’d been given. Usopp and Luffy stood over the near lifeless Zoro. You shook Nami’s hand off, your feet carrying you swiftly to his side as you practically shoved Usopp aside.

Your hand ghosted his cheek, breath catching. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Nami scoffed. “I doubt you could have changed his mind even if you tried.”

She was right, but still. What if you had tried? Would he hate you? Would he have listened? Your legs started to shake, and a moment later Usopp was there with a chair, setting a hand on your shoulder to ease you onto it. You choked on a sob, the act alone nearly casting you over the edge.

Nami watched it all with a set jaw, frustration boiling under her skin. She held back all her venomous words if only for your sake, currently seeing you as more glass than person.

“Come on,” she muttered to the others. “Y/N’ll talk to him first.”

They’d left before you could bring yourself to ask one to stay, and you were left staring at Zoro’s contorted face. What do I even say?

At a loss, you reached for his hand, tentatively taking it in both of yours. For a time, you only stared at him, void expression conveying nothing to Usopp when he entered the room an hour later.

“You doing okay?” he asked, wary as he leaned against one of the beams holding your bed to the ceiling.

You shot him a sharp look, biting back what you really wanted to reply with. “I… have no clue what to say to him.”

He seemed to actually contemplate his answer, lips pursed before he offered, “Whatever’s on your mind is fine. I think it's more about hearing you than what you’re saying.”

You hissed out a sigh as you returned your gaze to Zoro, taking in his condition for the umpteenth time, and forced out some words, gently running your thumb over the back of his hand. “Listen… you better fucken wake up. I didn’t wait three years for you to die on me, idiot. So…” Please. Be okay.

Usopp blinked widely, his shoulders tense as he nodded slowly. “Ok–ay, not exactly what I meant.”

“That’s what's on my mind,” you bit back.

“Maybe it should have stayed in mind.” You stood with a grunt, releasing Zoro’s hand and turning away from his battered form.

“You talk to him, if you’re the expert,” you snapped as you went for the door. Usopp tried to reach for your arm, an apology on his tongue, but you jerked away from him and bolted around the corner.

Only when you were out of sight and sound did you let a strangled cry slip past your lips, before swallowing it back down and holding your shaking hands to your chest. You wanted to go back, to hold him and never let go… later, when you could get a grip again.

A long story short, you had no time to get a grip.

જ⁀➴

Everything… was very wrong. In the span of a few hours, Nami turned out to be working with the fishman Arlong the Saw, Luffy nearly died a watery death, and the crew gained a chef. That last bit wasn’t so wrong, but all you could focus on was the negative.

Your hands stayed folded in your lap lest they quiver and reveal your distress. Zoro lay just down the hall, on your own bed, under your own sheets. If only he would wake up. You needed to see his eyes and hold his hand and have it not go limp in yours.

Sanji chopped vegetables at the countertop, occasionally shooting you a glance. Pushing all the carrots into a pile, he cleared his throat. “Uh, that trick you did was pretty cool.”

His accent was nice and smooth, almost serving to relax the tension wrought though your body. You eyes lazily moved to find his figure across the galley. “Thanks.”

“So you’re a chemist?” he kept on. “It’s either that or a witch, and you don’t look the witchy type.”

A grin tugged at your lips. “Uhm, yeah. I’m an apothecary. The bombs were just something I threw together.”

The fight with Arlong the Saw had gone… expectedly. He tossed you all around like a bunch of ragdolls. You’d gotten one hit in using the element of surprise, hurling a vial of chemical at his head that exploded on impact. He dodged or caught all the rest, nearly crushing you into the ground before Luffy stepped in and wrangled the fishman around the neck.

You shivered at the memory as Sanji sent you a smile. “Well, I thought it was badass.”

You managed a short laugh. “Thanks, waiter.”

Just as the chef started to protest the use of the name, a loud, cheerful voice rang throughout the ship.

“Zoro!”

Your heart panged in your chest, and all at once you pushed to your feet and sprinted to your room, running into the wall and teetering on your feet. You practically rammed yourself into the doorframe, chest heaving, eyes blown wide… and there he was.

Zoro’s eyes were all squinty from smiling at Luffy, who loomed ove rhim excitedly. His gaze shifted to where you loomed in the doorway, your heavy breathing drawing his attention. He murmured your name and wincingly pushed himself up, drawing you to his side as you helped him. Luffy slipped off the bed and fluffed a pillow absently, absolutely beaming.

All you could do was stare at Zoro, face screwed together from a mistire of emotions. Zoro was much to same, his expression unsure. Luffy just kept on grining till Usopp slid into the doorway, took one look at the situation, and dragged the captain out, slamming the door behind him.

You winced at the sound, eyes averted briefly before Zoro’s hand found yours, and you snapped back around to look at him. Your eyes flickered to the bandages covering his torso, your fingers dellicately grazing the gauze.

Zoro followed your every move carefully, features softening. He drew you near so you were sat before him. “You think our scars will match?”

Your lips twitched into a grin. “I hope so.”

The silence was welcomed, soft touches passed between you, content with breathing in the other’s presence. Only when you started blinking rapidly did you notice your eyes growing watery. “I thought I’d lost you. His sword—I don’t know how you survived.”

“He let me live,” Zoro murmured, like he wished otherwise, and your stomach churned uncformtably.

You ducked forward to catch his dropped gaze, tone firm. “And I’m glad he did.”

Zoro shook his head and reclined on the headboard. “I thought I was ready.”

“You will be.” You inched your way up the bed to sit beside him, shoving away the blanket and angling your head to look at his profile. His jaw set as he looked out the window.

His heart now ached as much as yours had, his defeat a weight he wasn’t prepared to carry. Your hand slipped into his with the hope of taking some that burden in stride, praying he knew you would be there to take it every time. “You will be ready, and when you are, you’ll defeat him and you’ll be the greatest swordsman to ever live.”

Zoro started to fiddle with your fingers. “You’ll be there?”

“Stupid question,” you huffed, leaning in to kiss his jaw. “Of course I will.”

Pulling back, you found his eyes, offering a smile. All at once, everything fell into place. You knew close to nothing about the world and your place in it. Would people remember you in a hundred? Will your steps be memorialized? You could only hope and wonder.

Yet, there was one thing you knew beyond certainty, and that was whatever you turned out to be, you wanted Zoro to be there to witness it.

So the words came easily, no hindrance in a single syllable. “Marry me.”

Zoro balked, whole body freezing up as he blinked down at you. “What?”

“You heard me,” you smiled. “I want to marry you.”

His hands squeezed yours. “It’s… not safe.”

“Compared to what? Whether we’re married or not, I’m with you.” Zoro tilted his head.

“So why…?”

You hooked your pinky through his. “It’s a promise. I want to be there when you defeat him. I want to dress your wounds and keep you humble. I want to grow old and throw rocks at neighbor kids with you.”

He laughed softly, staring down at your interlocked hands, and raised his gaze slowly. “You really want that?”

“Don’t you?”

Instantly, “Yes.”

If possible your smile bloomed wider and you whipped around to shout, “Luffy!”

Zoro grabbed your shoulders and jerked you back around, his grin shifting to wince at his sudden movement. “Now?”

“Why not now?” you implored.

“I thought—” he settled back gently, brow drawn “—I thought you’d want, like, a party.”

You ensured he was fine, hand hovering his bandaged middle, eyes rising to catch his own. “I have you, and more friends than I ever imagined having. What more do I need?”

Zoro couldn’t argue with that. His grin returned hesitantly, hand searching out for yours and closing around it tightly. “Guess that makes Great Captain Usopp the best man, with Luffy officiating. And maid of honor Nami.”

Your face fell in an instant, your palm hitting your temple, heart dropping all over again. “We can’t get married now.”

Zoro tried to sit up before coughing and leaning back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nami’s gone.” Your steely eyes only added to his sudden distress. “She’s with Arlong the Saw.”

Talk of marriage and futures could wait until everyone was together. Until then, you wrangled Zoro into laying back down, not allowing him to move and open up his stitches, barking out orders to stay put before you made him.

જ⁀➴

Well, you didn’t get married when Nami returned. It just… slipped your minds. Once, Zoro drunkenly remembered, and you soberly denied his inebriated proposal. So you didn’t get married some months after either. The time was never right, but the heart was always there.

“Wife,” he once snapped offhandedly. “Get off my weights.”

He didn’t understand your teasing, gleaming smile till you skipped away, planting a kiss on his cheek and whispering, “Fine, Husband.”

The crew tilted their heads at the sudden use of the term, not recalling a recent ceremony, but when they saw the lively grins upon your faces they never bothered to ask. You and Zoro had your own kind of marriage they supposed was extra special—the kind only within one’s mind, soul, and heart. The bond was not by rings but by devotion alone, and the pair found a lifetime of contentment in that alone.

The topic of officiality arose when you parted for two years, him off training with a warlord in a castle, and you learning from healing witches in a forest.

“What if you find another wife in the meantime?” you jokingly (half-geuinely) asked him.

“We lasted three years. What’s two more?”

You nodded, drawing him close to your lips. “Don’t get too comfy, Roronoa. I’ll make an honest man out of you yet.”

Two years and each and every correspondence was signed Dear Wife, Dear Husband, Yours in Health, Yours in Death. A ghostly girl Zoro called Perona once wrote back for him, wondering why he’d never mentioned a wife and where his ring was. You gave it a chuckle and paid it no mind, not willing to divulge the intricacies of your marriage.

No one ever questioned it when you reunited. To everyone, you and Zoro were one unit in everything but a legal document. The crew never batted an eye at your little domestic bits, to the point where they nearly forgot what was so funny about calling the other your spouse.

One year turned to two, and two to three, and three to twenty all in the blink of an eye. Wife and husband, you grew into yourselves in body and mind, watching the other with a pride and love neither of you could quite articulate how you wanted.

“My husband is the greatest swordsman in the world,” you told some boy prince you were treating for smallpox.

“My wife is a world-renowned apothecary,” Zoro exclaimed midfight to some no-name brute.

At some point, you’d both forgotten this wasn’t an official thing. You were married… but not really.

It occurred to you whilst you lay swinging in a hammock in front of your little home, head rested on Zoro’s chest, his easy breathing nearly lulling you to sleep. “Zoro?”

“Hmm?”

You propped your chin on his stomach and grinned at him bleary-eyed. “Will you marry me?”

“I—” Zoro paused, blinked a moment, and looked down widely. “I forgot we weren’t.”

“Me too.” Your head cocked to the side. “So?”

His hand moved to trace your jaw before curling into your hair, and dropping back to his side. “We’re well into our forties.”

“And?”

“If we both forgot…” he chuckled. “What does it matter if we never got a huge party?”

You settled back into his side. “That’s what I was thinking… Don’t you want a ring?”

He shook a hand. “Eh.”

“Same here.”

Really, what was the use? He was your husband and you were his wife. That’s how it had been for well over a decade. Though, it would make for a good celebration. “A wedding’s a good excuse to see everyone, though…”

A week later Usopp called Nami on a snail transponder, holding up an invite as she did the same. “Completely forgot they’re not in matrimony.”

“You’re going, right?”

“Obviously.”

The whole of the ceremony, an air of hilarity rested upon each of the crewmates turned wedding guests. In sickness, in health, in life, and in death—you and Zoro had committed these vows wordlessly so very long ago.

The wedding was odd and out of place and it was yours. You never knew how much it would mean till you stood before your silly swordsman, aboard the beloved Thousand Sunny, and slipped a ring on his finger as a burn got caught in your throat. He wasn’t much better, pushing a ring over your knuckles, blinking so fast he might’ve flown away.

Vivi, Robin, and Nami stood lined up on your left, holding bouquets of lilies picked from your yard that morning. On Zoro’s right, Usopp and Brook held back watery smiles while Jimbei and Sanji watched with subtle, fond grins.

What brought it all together was Luffy’s struggle to get it just right, reciting off a sheet of paper Nami and Vivi had asked him to memorize beforehand. Your captain’s smile could’ve blinded you, his excitement palpable as he worked his way through the list until it was time to officially seal it with a kiss.

You’re not sure what you expected, but when your lips met with Zoro’s and the hollers of your friends echoed all around… there was nothing extra special about the moment. You drew back smiling, nose brushing his, and breathed in the moment. It felt like every other kiss on every other evening, but now you were with the people you held most dear. That’s what made your heart warm enough to rival the sun.

As far as you’re concerned, you and Zoro have been married since the day he left you in Syrup Village. You sighed your vows into every moment spent apart and breathed them into each other every second side by side. No wedding was ever needed. No officiant needed to say the words. Husband and wife in your hearts alone, and that would have enough for the rest of your days.

But now, as you looked around at the friends you called family, Zoro’s presence at your shoulder, you had to admit; you would have a hundred weddings just to bring everyone here, sharing in joy and dancing around one another through the night, for just one more night.

Tomorrow, everyone might part once more. There were lives to be lived and tasks to complete elsewhere on the globe… but tonight, your family was together. As you broke away from a twirling Nami, shooing her off to go dance with her dear Vivi and spare your aching feet, you found yourself back at Zoro’s side. His heavy eyes and lithe smile met you readily.

“Wife,” he greeted.

“Husband,” you answered giddily.

Neither of you cared much for rings, that was true, but you both took the time to admire the placements on your fourth fingers, curling into each other as the party drew on, tenderly falling asleep against the mainmast.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @nadlx33333 @fluffybunnyu @ellisaworld @hawkins-2000 @bdudette @misfits1a @star-yawnznn @gingernut131 @1-800-starkindustrie @fangeekkk @itsagoodluckkiss

#kana's op recs #kana's recs_zoro #addicted❤️#moots

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