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kyllium · 3 days ago

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Ties That Bind (3)

Pairing: Zoro x Reader

SFW

Summary: You have spent your entire life preparing to meet your soulmate. Even with the words inked on your skin, you could never have imagined how badly your other half would hurt you, nor how much you'd want him anyway. Content: GN!Reader, Angst, Soulmate AU, Imprisonment, Medieval AU, Yearning, Unwanted Soulmates, Eventual Happy Ending, Starvation, Isolation Word Count: 3k

You don’t sleep that night. You expected losing the weight of your secret would allow you to sleep peacefully for once, without dreams of what could be or what has been. And you suppose it was almost true: you don’t have those dreams. Instead you stare at the ceiling, the shadows beginning to twist before your eyes, turning to something sinister. The faces of those you’ve killed, or worse, his face.

Haunting your sleep and terrorizing your waking hours wasn’t enough. Now he is twisted into every thought, every action, every fiber of your being.

When you try to close your eyes, the image only grows more clear: the betrayal on his face, the clear hurt, the exact moment he decided you were cruel, unlovable. Mistook your mercy for something sinister. The exact moment he saw rejection and decided to reject you in turn.

You had no right to be hurt by that. He had no right to be hurt in the first place, considering who he is and what he’s done. But knowing that doesn’t fill the gaping hole in your chest.

You wonder if he would have done the same, if he were in your position. If he would have chosen to suffer in silence instead of sharing the burden. You like to imagine he would, that you’re both people who would choose sacrifice if it meant protecting someone you might have one day loved, even if you never got the chance. But you have to imagine, because you don’t know him. You’ll never get the chance to know him. You can imagine him kind or cruel or anything in between in your head but it will never change the reality that your shared burden does not make him any less of a stranger to you.

So why are you grieving what could have been? Perhaps this weight in your chest is the love you were meant to have, trapped and rotting in your ribcage. Your mother once told you she never had to worry about you, because your destined love was also a promise from the universe that you would live to see it. She never thought your destiny could be compressed, a lifetime of love and loss shoved into only a few short months, or less, depending on when your execution is scheduled. You’re so full you feel like you could burst, tenderness and yearning and pain intermixing and pressing against your skin, begging to be let out.

Instead of allowing the feelings to overwhelm you, to let yourself lose what little dignity and sanity you have left, you simply let go of them. Of everything you have ever felt or ever will. You breathe in the stale air, and breathe out every smile you were destined to give, every tear you would have shed, every bit of heat that would have boiled your blood. You do this until you are nothing more than a shell, no more alive than the stone beneath you.

You do not know how much time passes. You would almost call it peaceful, but that implies a serenity to this that simply isn’t there. More accurately, it is easier. Easier than letting yourself feel it, easier than grappling with it. It is some chunk of time, be it minutes or hours, that you do not have to spend thinking about your own impending doom.

You only come back to yourself again once you hear the soft sound of footsteps at the end of the hall: one of your regular guards, here to ensure you didn’t die in the middle of the night. He never speaks to you, simply taps the bars to get your attention, but every single morning he gives you a soft, pitying smile. It’s one of the only things you’re able to count on here, the comfort of routine.

Your shoulders have relaxed, your breathing slowing. The next day has come, and nothing has changed. The grief has left you, at least for now, leaving exhaustion in its place. At least you know how to handle this, something that has plagued you your entire life.

You think you get an hour of sleep, maybe two. Not enough to feel rested, but enough that your vision begins to clear, that the shadows on the wall have turned back to just shadows instead of haunted specters.

You allow yourself to keep your eyes closed, to keep enjoying the feeling next to peace that retreating gives you. The thoughts aren’t as quiet this time, a traitorous part of your brain wondering about and picturing the world outside. How is your homeland now? Are you being hailed as a hero who sacrificed themselves for the cause, or a failure who should have fought to the end?

You imagine the looks on your parents’ faces once they learn of your fate. Anyone else would allow the grief to consume them, collapse in on themselves knowing their child would never be returned to them. But your parents have known this was coming for a long time: while the form may be a surprise, your death was destined from birth. They knew you would die young.

You wonder if they’re preparing your grave. As horrible as you have been treated in life, you imagine your body will be returned someday in some exchange of corpses for burial. They don’t happen often, but a general’s death isn’t exactly common. As brutal as the battlefield is, the nobility love to pretend war is a gentleman’s game, and a gentleman would return a body to a grieving family. No need to speak of how the body came into their possession.

Are your friends toasting in your memory? Are the young nobles who sought your hand mourning the loss of their potential spouse? Or are they already beginning to forget you, finding a new young hero to pine after?

Somehow, you don’t mind being forgotten. It sounds peaceful, almost, to simply live your life and be done with it. And sure, you’ll miss your friends’ smiles, the warmth of a hug from your father and of your mother’s hand on your cheek, but you enjoyed it the best you could. There’s nothing wrong with finally resting, both in body and spirit. You don’t want to haunt anyone.

The peace doesn’t last long. The Commander refuses to leave you alone for a single day, now that he knows. He’s back the moment the sun rises (or so you assume), waking you up with heavy steps and heavier breathing, like he sprinted down here the moment he got the chance.

He stops and starts a few times, cutting off his words at the first syllable, ensuring they never actually get to leave his mouth. You don’t know if you’ve ever seen a man more disheveled, especially not one of his station. It would almost be funny to see, if you were in the mood to laugh.

“This is bullshit,” he finally seethes, like you’ve done something to him. Like he’s the trapped animal here.

“Oh?” You murmur sleepily, brushing your hair out of your face. You sit up, and you try not to notice the way his eyes follow the movement, drinking you in. The anger flaring in them doesn’t subside, competing with a strange hunger. You wonder if this is how he looks at an enemy or a lover. Perhaps to him there isn’t much of a difference.

“I never wanted you,” he spits, dripping with venom. “I never asked for this.”

As if you did? Begged the universe to be graced with his presence, if only for a few short moments? But god, it has to be someone’s fault, doesn’t it always?

A few months ago, before all of this, you would have screamed and cried, begging him not to say that. Not to twist the knife. Not to deny destiny, to deny you. Not to spit in the face of the life you may have had together, no matter how rocky the start was destined to be. But now, broken, beaten, defeated, you can only say one thing. “I know.”

He pauses a moment, confusion washing over him. He was looking for a fight, of course. It seems to be the only thing he knows how to do. “You…know?”

“I always knew. You marked me with it from the day I was born, Commander. I always knew there was never a happy ending waiting for me. You made sure of that.”

He has the gall to look guilty. He tries to push past it, embrace his rage, but it’s written all over his face. He wanted a quick jab, a provocation, not a true wound. But with all the power he has over you, he still can’t choose how you feel. You’re surprised by the contemplative silence that follows, before he quietly asks, “What…were your words?”

You sigh. He doesn’t even remember saying them. Of course not. How many lives has he threatened to end? You were just one of many. You can go back to that, if he only accepts your mercy and moves on. “It doesn’t matter.”

It does matter, of course it does, but saying them aloud will reopen a wound you’ve been trying to close your entire life. You can count on one hand the amount of times you’ve spoken them, always in hushed tones to horrified reactions. You try to not look down when you’re changing out of fear of glimpsing them. He can’t just pry them from your mouth, rip you apart again.

He huffs in frustration again, baring his teeth. “If it doesn’t matter then why won’t you say them?”

You finally snap. “Because hearing them once was hard enough! You’ve done enough to me, so just leave me the hell alone! What else could you possibly want from me?”

“What I’ve done? What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You stayed silent for weeks, just to keep this from me!”

You bark out a laugh. “Oh, you blame me for not wanting to talk to the man who fucking stabbed me?”

He flinches again. He doesn’t seem used to not having solid ground to stand on, and he’s floundering.

“You should let me rot in peace, Commander. It’d be better for both of us.” You let yourself fall back into your small reeking cot, turning away from him. It’s a few minutes before you hear the door slamming down the hall.

What a nightmare of a man.

A few hours pass, lonely and long, as you’ve quickly become accustomed to. You count the number of stones that make up the cobblestone floor of your cell (sixty-five, not including those that go past the bars and into the hallway, which you cannot reasonably include as yours), try to imagine what kind of day it is outside (sunny but deceptively cold, with a chilly breeze that sends a shiver down your spine), and play tic tac toe with yourself, tracing letters in the air as you try to see which of your hands wins more (unsurprisingly, they tie).

Your cell is left unattended for an unusually long time: before you were under near constant guard, with soldiers changing out about every four hours or so. Maybe they’ve decided you aren’t worth taking up as much manpower, or maybe they aren’t as worried about you dying in your sleep instead of in front of an audience, because you don’t see anyone after your usual man leaves sometime in the morning. He actually peeks into your cell before he leaves, brown eyes shining with pity as he gazes at you. He doesn’t say anything, as usual, but he lingers for a moment before sighing and slowly making his way down the hall.

You aren’t brought breakfast, but that isn’t unusual. On your best days you get two meals, on some you get none. And considering how badly you’ve pissed off the Commander, you imagine you can’t expect a meal for a while. Maybe you’ll get one today, just to make sure you don’t drop dead before he can come back to scream at you again. Or maybe he’ll keep them away for just long enough that you start to fear they’re never coming back, until you’re weak enough that you’ll say whatever it is he wants you to. He clearly wants something from you, whether it be military secrets or payment for your shared unfortunate fate. If he can’t fight fate, he can at least make you suffer in its place.

You’re delighted when you hear footsteps coming down the hall. It must be your guard coming with a meal, a routine you’ve become used to despite how infrequent it’s becoming. You can’t hide your displeasure when instead of the sweet brunette man you’ve to expect, you find yourself face to face with the Commander instead.

His anger seems to have subsided for the moment, leaving confusion in its place. It’s almost unsettling, seeing such a confident man looking so lost. He places it in front of you with the same caution someone might use while feeding a starving tiger. He snatches his hands back through the bars before you can even begin to reach for it.

“I’m not going to bite you, Commander.” You scoop up the bowl immediately, stuffing a large steaming spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth. It’s bland, but on an empty stomach it tastes like heaven.

He grunts, before quietly saying, “I still can’t remember.” He sounds angry. Not quite with you, but not quite with himself either. With the circumstances, maybe.

You sigh. “Of course you don’t. It didn’t matter to you. It was just talk.” It wasn’t just talk, you know. He wanted you dead, and was disappointed he couldn’t make it happen. But that will haunt him for the rest of his life, and you’d much rather rest peacefully once you’re gone.

He stares at you, face unreadable. “Did they hurt you?”

You chuckle, despite yourself. The lie comes easily. “Not more than the sword.”

He huffs. “You aren’t even taking this seriously.”

“I’ve just accepted it, Commander. I suggest you do the same.”

“Maybe I would have already, if you hadn’t taken the choice away from me.” Ah, the anger’s directed toward you again.

“You want to talk about choices, Commander? About freedom?” Your hands wrap around the bars separating you. “I don’t think that’s a debate you want to start. You don’t strike me as a man who likes to lose.” You can’t help the cruel smile that starts to make its way across your lips, the satisfaction you feel at the rage beginning to flicker out of his eyes. You’ve never liked to lose either.

He clenches his jaw, his hands reaching just above yours, his thick fingers wrapping around the metal. You can almost feel his warmth through the centimeters separating you. You’re so close, it would only take the smallest movement to bridge the gap between you. “That wasn’t personal. This has nothing to do with our circumstances.”

“It has everything to do with it, Commander. What did you expect me to do? Run out of my cell and into your arms? Beg you to save me from the prison you put me in?”

“I expected you to try!”

“Why should I try with a man who hates me? Who wants me dead?”

“Hates you? We didn’t know each other!” He clenches against the bars so tightly you swear you can hear them creak. He leans forward, close enough you can feel his breath upon your face. Close enough you could kiss him if you wanted to. You don’t, you tell yourself, as a traitorous part of you memorizes the shape of his lips to dream of later.

“Do you think that matters? Do you think you can look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t mean it? That if I had bled out on that battlefield that you’d regret it?” You grip the bars tighter to prevent yourself from grabbing his hands and pulling him as close as you can.

He’s silent. His stare is so intense it threatens to burn a hole through you, but you can’t bring yourself to look away. When he looks at you, everything else seems to fall away for a moment, your blood rushing in your ears as the world falls quiet, as though it too is holding its breath, waiting to hear what he has to say.

“I would have remembered you,” he finally whispers. He says it with something almost bordering tenderness, and you have to bite your cheek to stop tears from threatening to spill over your lashes.

“That’s not what I asked,” you murmur, unable to keep the bite in your voice.

“I know,” he admits, “But that's all I can offer.” There’s something resembling regret in his tone.

“That doesn’t make it enough.” You wilt, head leaning forward unconsciously. It’s only when you make contact that you realize you’ve pressed your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.

“I know,” he says again, lashes brushing against yours as he blinks. “But I offer it all the same.”

It was easier when he was cruel. You know that he will be again, that this moment will pass and you two will spend another day screaming at each other, exchanging verbal blows that neither of you know if you mean. But in this moment he is soft, eyes warm as they stare into yours, and you can’t bring yourself to bring back up your defenses.

He doesn’t say goodbye when he leaves. Neither do you. Anything else would bring you back into conflict, and neither one of you wants to be the one to shatter the peace. Two warriors choosing, for once, to stay their blades.

You sit for a few minutes, cheeks pressed against the cool bars, and you could swear that when you close your eyes you still feel him just an inch away, close enough to touch once again.

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @dreamcastgirl99 @eggrollforyou @hank88999 @lala27715 @kyllium @nerium21 @praline357 @fangeekkk @loserclub22 @starchild-unnamed @bethleeham @whitelaxe @tiredpoetrybitch @fangirlbitch02 @angrybuttooshorttofightyou

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kyllium · 3 days ago

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kyllium · 7 days ago

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Monster trio and how they'd react to you making them jealous on purpose 🤭

P: F!Reader x Monster Trio

CW: Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Unprotected P in V

WC: 4,486 words

Luffy:

Initially, you didn't expect him to care.

It was Luffy. He wasn't exactly seasoned in the romance department, hell, you were his first girlfriend and half the time, he still treated you like one of the crew.

There were days when he didn't always notice when you got quiet or pulled away.

Some days he was too busy with food, brainstorming the next adventure or chasing something across the deck to even remember you were there.

So yeah... maybe you just wanted to find out if the pirate king could get jealous.

Nothing too extreme, you just gave your attention to everyone but him. Arms slung around Usopp's shoulders, giggling with Nami, slipping bites of your dinner to Chopper, the treats you'd normally keep just for him.

Meanwhile, Luffy just sat there grinning, scarfing down meat like usual.

Then that night, when the ship creaked under moonlight and everyone else was asleep, you spotted him in the corridor.

Standing in the dark. Still.

That dumb grin was stretched way too far, all quiet and weird. It sent a chill down your spine.

"You forget I'm the Captain." He muttered, and before you could reply, his arms snapped forward, stretching like ropes and yanking you through the air.

The door slammed behind you and your little game was over just as quickly as it began.

No teasing, no patience.

Luffy yanked your shorts down with a growl, baring you to the cool air before collapsing to his knees like a man possessed, tongue already lolling out like he could taste you in the atmosphere.

He licked like an animal, nose grinding against your clit and sucking so hard it made your thighs twitch.

Luffy ate like he fought. Reckless, all in with no hesitation. With his mouth soaked, juices starting to glisten his jaw and neck, spit and arousal smearing his lips as he groaned straight into your cunt.

At times, it felt like he couldn’t choose what to do.

Flat, curling swipes over your throbbing bud one second, then tongue-fucking you deep the next, loud, wet noises as though he wanted the whole ship to hear.

He pulled your hips forward by your soft thighs, holding you up with sheer strength as you writhed, his moans vibrating through you.

"Mmm, better than meat-" He mumbled against your sweaty flesh, grinning before spitting straight onto your sensitive core and letting it dribble down.

His tongue flicked up the mess like he couldn’t bear to waste a drop, licking fast and sloppy whilst your hips bucked against his face to shove him in, chasing every drag of his mouth.

"Say it..." The pirate murmured, two fingers now buried to the knuckle, curling into that sweet spot over and over.

"Say what?" You gasped, almost sobbing.

He looked up at you from between your legs, lips shiny, eyes half-lidded and feral.

"That I'm your captain." He said, tongue flicking over your clit like punctuation. "Tell me."

Your voice cracked. "Y-Yes - f-fuck, yes sir, you're my captain-"

He groaned like that pushed him over the edge, his whole body trembling as he devoured you again, holding you down while your orgasm crashed through you like a wave, leaving your thighs soaked and his mouth completely covered in you.

Zoro:

Lately, you'd been catching him slipping.

Less eye contact. Fewer words. No hand on your back when you walked past.

Zoro had always been a man of few words but this felt like more than that, like he was closing off again. Like back when you first met him and he didn’t trust you yet.

The more you asked what was wrong, the colder he got. Said he was "just tired" or "needed to train." But you weren’t stupid. You felt it, that he was slipping through your fingers and too proud to say why.

So... you decided to see what would happen if someone else had your attention.

"Private cooking lessons?" Sanji lit up when you asked, hand dramatically pressed to his heart. "For you? I’d be honoured."

Zoro didn’t say shit about it. Not even when you came back to the deck reeking of garlic and smugness.

Then that night, when you passed his room, he was already waiting outside, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed and that dead-calm look in his eye.

"I thought you liked katanas," He muttered as the door slammed shut behind you, trapping you against his chest.

His gaze dropped to the curve of your bare skin where the shirt had ridden up, no bra in sight and the way your chest caught the dim light made his jaw tighten.

You caught that look and tossed him a smirk, pushing buttons like a brat.

Zoro's fingers slid beneath the fabric, skimming ribs damp with heat before grabbing your wrist and dragging you towards the full-length mirror hanging on the wall.

"What happened? You downgraded to kitchen knives?"

Then he kissed you like he hadn’t in days, like he’d been holding himself back and just snapped. His tongue shoved past your lips, messy, hungry, taking back what he decided you owed him.

One hand slid under your shirt, dragging up your skin and cupping your breast fiercely, guaranteeing soreness.

A rough squeeze followed and the sensation of his thumb swiping across your nipple to coax out a gasp from your throat.

The mirror loomed ahead, big and unkind to your dishevelled state.

The swordsman shoved your chest into the glass with one palm between your shoulder blades, the cold surface shocking your nipples as your breath fogged up the reflection.

His other hand dragged your pants and panties down in one rough pull to strip your ass to the room and the air to prickle over your sensitive skin.

Leaning close, his breath warmed your ear.

"You wanted my attention," He murmured, cock pressing between your cheeks. "Now you have it."

He didn’t give you time to respond. One hand tangled in your hair with the other gripping your hip like a vice as he drove his cock into you with a single thrust.

The stretch stung, a thick burn splitting you open as he sank in to the hilt with one brutal stroke and gave you no chance to breathe.

He hammered into you hard again and again, hips slapping skin with a wet, nasty sound that bounced off the walls, making you feel like the whole damn room was shaking.

The muscles in his arms flexed with each thrust, jaw locked and sweat dripping down his temples like he was sparring, not fucking.

"Eyes up." Zoro snarled, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at the mirror. "Watch yourself take it."

You whimpered, eyes locking onto your reflection. What a mess. Your face was flushed, lips parted, tits bouncing with each thrust and drool starting to smear the corner of your mouth.

His body behind you was all strength and sweat, veins bulging along his arms as he fucked you rough, unforgiving almost.

"Don’t look away." He snapped when you tried to close your eyes from the stimulation.

"You had no problem putting on a show for the waiter, right? Now watch how fucked up you get for me."

One hand slid between your legs, fingers grinding rough, circling your wet clit like he was claiming it, making you gasp loud enough to be heard next door and legs trembling under him.

The sounds were filthy. Every shove soaked and provocatively loud, your cunt squelching around him like it was begging for more.

Wetness dripped down his swollen erection, stringing between your thighs whilst the slap of his hips against your ass bruised the tender flesh.

"No one else gets to have this," Zoro muttered low against your shoulder, breathing heavy.

"No one else gets to have you, understand?"

Sanji:

You always thought you could handle it.

Sanji was a flirt. He always had been. Compliments, heart eyes, blowing kisses to every woman he passed.

For the most part, you never took it seriously.

He was sweet to you, kind in a way he wasn’t with anyone else. You figured once things got serious between you two, you’d be chill about it and he'd tone it down to respect your boundaries.

Until that night.

The crew had docked and found a half decent bar, the kind with warm lights, loud music and everyone spread out to relax.

Sanji went to grab drinks while you chatted with Robin and Nami about everything and nothing.

Then, when you glanced over, you caught him leaning over the counter, giggling with the pretty bartender like they were sharing secrets. She touched his wrist. He didn’t pull away.

That was it. Something flipped and the green monster possessed you.

So when he brought the drinks back, you turned to Zoro who was already a few pints deep and barely upright and asked loud enough for the crew to hear,

"Think you could give me some private combat lessons?"

Zoro blinked. Grunted and nodded before downing the 10th shot for the night.

Sanji's laugh died mid-breath. He straightened, lips tight as if someone spat in his drink.

"I'm heading back to prep dinner." He announced, tossing a glance your way. It wasn’t quite a glare but he clearly expected you to follow.

And just like that, he was gone with you trailing behind.. through the ship, past the quiet halls, into the kitchen.

"Come here, mon coeur." His blue eyes dragged down your body, tongue swiping over his bottom lip like he already tasted you.

"Looks like it's my turn to teach you a thing or two."

Sanji gripped your thighs and hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, sliding you across the cold metal table until your ass hit the edge with a soft thud.

His body slotted between your legs, heat radiating off him, erection already straining his slacks as he kissed you deep.

Fingers yanked your shirt up and your bra was gone in a flash, his breath hot on your bare skin as lips closed around your tits, sucking hard and tongue swirling over your nipples with teeth grazing just enough to make you squirm.

He groaned when you arched for him, teeth grazing sensitive skin before he flicked his tongue again, leaving your chest wet, tender and marked.

"Thought I'd get jealous? Of him?" Sanji murmured, lips trailing down your stomach while undoing his belt.

"I don't get jealous, sweetheart... I get even."

That killer smile was all you could focus on before he guided his cock through your folds first, letting it glide through the slick mess you made, the head nudging your clit with every pass until you whined desperately.

Then he pushed in slow and steady, thick length stretching you inch by inch until you gasped, legs tightening around his waist.

"S-Sanji, someone could walk in-" You whimpered his name like prayer, breath hitching enough to make you choke.

"Then you better keep those pretty noises down, yeah?" He said, grinning against your neck, his teeth biting down.

"Sanji-"

"You think anyone else could touch you like this?" He whispered, grinding in slow just to hear you struggling to keep a breathing pattern.

"I’ve had you soaked the moment I kissed you."

He bent you back until your shoulders hit the table, fucking you flat while your legs spread around his torso.

Every filthy smack of flesh reverberated off the kitchen walls, the sound of your slick pussy clenching around him as he rutted into you hard being the only thing clouding your mind.

Fluids dripped off the table’s edge, pooling beneath you whilst his hands gripped your hips like handles, knuckles pale as he fucked you dumb.

"Not letting you go yet-" Sanji grunted. "They can all hear it. Let 'em."

The blonde man fucked you until your legs shook uncontrollably, until your juices mixed and poured down the backs of your thighs, ruining the table and his trousers.

You came with a sob, nails in his messy hair, head thrown back as he drove into you over and over and your cunt spasming around him, milking him like it didn’t want to let go.

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kyllium · 10 days ago

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Part 2 because poor Sanji deserves some attention.

After Zoro finally knocked out, snoring into your pillow like a damn boulder, you tiptoed into the kitchen for something cold.. and nearly dropped dead on sight.

Sanji.

One elbow on the counter and his other hand buried so far down his pants he might as well be inside someone. Shoulders tense, chest rising gradually and head hung low with messy blonde hair sticking to his sweaty face.

He was moaning softly but not discreetly, like he wanted to be caught.

You could only see him from the ribs up but that didn't matter. You knew. From the way his jaw clenched, the tremble in his arm, the wet drag of skin.. he was stroking his cock like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

And you? You just stood there.

With one leg still behind the door, you squeezed your thighs so tight your slick was leaking between them, core burning and already pounding like a desperate drum.

You were meant to grab water. Not get front row seats to Sanji fisting his dick behind the galley counter like a wet dream.

But he had to know.. that you'd walk in eventually with your tank top, bare legs and Zoro's scent still on your skin.

"I know you're there."

Your stomach flipped. He didn't even look at you. Didn't slow down either. Just kept working himself behind the counter.

Sanji's fingers tightened around the base, veins bulging along his forearm as he dragged his grip up slow, wrist twisting just enough to make his breath hitch.

Precum smeared over his knuckles, dripping down his fist as he stroked the flushed head with obscene care.

The man's mouth hung open, soft groans spilling out while his eyebrows drew tight like he was aching for release, with his jaw staying tense, muscles locked with restraint as he fucked into his hand like he wished it was you.

Then he looked up. Ocean eyes glazed, face flushed and starving.

"Took you long enough.." He muttered, stepping out from behind the counter with his pants undone, cock heavy in his grip. Red, slick and fucking angry.

He sat down on a wooden chair, spreading his legs wide like he was offering something holy.

"You can watch me finish-" His tone dropped as his hand started pumping again, lazily. "Just like I’ve been watchin' you, sweetheart."

And now you're frozen in the doorway, chest rising fast, practically drooling to the sight of the blonde man before you while Zoro sleeps two doors down.

And all you can do is pray he stays asleep.

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kyllium · 11 days ago

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close quarters; zoro roronoa

synopsis — you and zoro get sent on a ridiculous mission by luffy. it ends with one bed, two swords, and a whole lot of unresolved tension. but zoro’s patience only lasts so long — especially when you keep stretching like that.

content warning — sexual themes

a/n — oh my gosh, you wrote such a sweet message and i appreciate you giving me options lol, it just was so long, the app wouldn’t let me post it, but i hope you enjoy!!!

you should’ve known better than to take a “simple” request from luffy.

“it’s a moonlight crab,” he said, full of wide eyes and chaotic hope. “they only appear during the full moon — but they’re super fast. get two, and sanji’ll make us something real fancy.”

what he didn’t mention was that the crabs are almost invisible, only live in swampy alleys, and bolt into sewer drains at the sound of footsteps. or that it would take you and zoro six hours of chasing after shadows and arguing about directions, all while he mutters “should’ve stayed on the ship” under his breath.

now, you’re standing at the counter of a shady inn, soaking wet from an alley puddle ambush, your boots muddy, your shoulders sore, and zoro’s towel-draped form next to you radiating brooding frustration.

“one room left,” the innkeeper says. “one bed. take it or leave it.” you both glance at each other.

you shrug. “we’ll take it.”

he doesn’t argue. just grunts, grabs the key, and stomps up the stairs.

the room is small. a little damp. there’s only one lantern on the wall, casting a low flicker over the bed — a mattress just barely wide enough for two people who aren’t carrying unresolved tension and years of eye contact that lasted one second too long.

zoro drops his swords by the door and peels off his shirt like it’s nothing, towel still hanging around his neck. your mouth moves before you can stop it.

“gonna do that right in front of me?”

he glances over his shoulder. “what? it’s not like you haven’t seen me shirtless.”

“not in a bedroom.”

he smirks. “then don’t look.” but you do.

you always do.

you peel off your own damp layers, careful to turn your back, but zoro’s eye drags lazily across the shape of you in your undershirt and shorts — the way your spine curves, the dip of your waist. he swallows thickly and turns away like it doesn’t bother him. like he’s not biting the inside of his cheek to stay quiet.

you both climb into bed. on opposite sides. no touching. no words. for maybe five seconds.

“this is stupid,” you mutter.

“what is?”

“you. me. pretending this bed isn’t too small.”

zoro exhales through his nose. “you’re the one that said take it.”

“yeah, well. didn’t expect you to act like you’ve never shared a bed before.” he shifts.

the mattress dips. you feel it — the tension pulling tight like string. like if you breathe too deep, it’ll snap.

“…you want me to move closer?” he asks, voice low.

you blink at the ceiling. “do you want to?”

“yes.”

the next thing you know, zoro’s arm brushes yours under the blanket. his thigh presses against your leg. he’s close enough to feel the heat of his skin and the weight of his stare.

“you’re staring,” you murmur.

“so are you.”

you glance over at him, lips twitching. “something you wanna say?”

he leans in slightly, voice rough. “you never shut up.”

“make me.” that’s all it takes.

his mouth is on yours before you can smirk again — rough, hungry, heated. his kiss is the kind that steals the air from your lungs, all tongue and teeth and possessive growls. his hand slides under your shirt, palm flat against your stomach.

“fuck,” he breathes, lips dragging down your jaw. “i’ve wanted to do that for months.”

you gasp as his hand cups your breast, thumb flicking your nipple through the fabric.

“you could’ve said something.”

“don’t talk,” he mutters. “just let me have you.”

you do.

he yanks your shorts down, then his own, and between kisses and curse words, he’s already rutting against your thigh, thick and hard and leaking against your skin.

“spread your legs,” he growls.

you obey, shivering when his fingers slip between your folds, already soaked.

“you’re so wet,” he mutters. “fuck. is this all for me?”

“who else would it be for?” you snap back, voice breathy, he grins.

“good answer.” then he pushes in.

it’s deep. slow. stretching. your breath stutters at the burn of it, your hands gripping his shoulders as he sinks all the way in, groaning low against your throat.

“fuck—so tight,” he hisses. “feels even better than i thought.”

“you thought about this?” you whisper.

“all the fucking time.”

he sets a pace that makes the bed creak. makes the walls groan. makes you cry out his name more than once, especially when he grabs your thigh and angles you open, hitting deep with every roll of his hips.

“knew you’d take me so well,” he mutters. “knew you were made for this.” you arch into him, nails clawing at his back.

“harder,” you beg.

he gives it to you. brutally. beautifully. one hand around your throat, the other gripping your hip so hard you’re sure you’ll bruise.

you come with a cry, legs locking around his waist, and zoro follows right after — spilling into you with a rough moan and a kiss that leaves you dizzy.

later, when you’re catching your breath, pressed to his chest and feeling the slow rise and fall of him under your cheek, he murmurs:

“you know we’re not just friends anymore, right?”

you hum. “figured.”

“good.” he kisses your forehead.

you fall asleep wrapped in the scent of sweat and steel and zoro’s quiet heartbeat — and when morning comes, neither of you pretends it didn’t happen.

the moonlight crab is squirming in the net. zoro’s holding it out like it personally offended him. you’re standing next to him, arms crossed, a faint bruise on your neck that you definitely don’t plan on explaining. he hasn’t said a word since you left the inn. just grumbled something about “stupid errands” and “waking up sore for no reason that’s worth telling luffy about.”

you, on the other hand, are glowing.

“luffy!” you call, stepping onto the deck of the sunny. “we brought your damn crab!”

he turns around with a mouth full of meat and eyes like a kid on christmas.

“NO WAY! YOU ACTUALLY FOUND IT??” zoro grunts and tosses the net toward him. the crab chirps angrily.

“what are you even gonna do with that thing?” you ask, wiping sweat from your brow.

luffy blinks. “i forgot.”

you stare at him. “you FORGOT?”

“yeah! but it’s okay. now i have a crab friend.” he picks the poor creature up and holds it to his cheek like it’s a teddy bear. “thanks, guys! did you have fun?” zoro stiffens beside you.

you smirk. “we had a very productive night.”

“oh! cool! what’d you do?” zoro starts to open his mouth, then closes it again. you take mercy on him.

“nothing you’d understand.”

“was there a fight?” luffy perks up. “was it cool?? did zoro win?? zoro simply walks away.

you’re still laughing when he disappears down the stairs. luffy stares after him, confused. “what’s with him?”

“maybe ask sanji to make him some stamina food,” you say sweetly.

“stamina food?? why?”

you just pat his head and walk off. some things, you think, are better kept secret. but judging by the way zoro’s eyes find yours later — intense, hot, wordless — it’s not gonna stay a secret much longer and you’re okay with that.

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kyllium · 11 days ago

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Roronoa Zoro, who if you ever got hurt, blames himself deeply for it. Even when it makes no sense. Even if he had nothing to do with it, no way to stop it — it doesn’t matter.

That night, he doesn’t say a single word. He barely eats, doesn’t celebrate with the others. While the crew drinks, eats, and laughs under the stars, Zoro volunteers for the night watch, sending the others to rest.

When the ship is quiet and the moon is high, he trains. Harder than usual. Until sweat becomes blood, and his body screams for rest.

His blade sings in silence. His motto, runs through his head like a curse as he remembers images of you hurt, injured, bleeding.

“If there was nothing I could do in that situation… then I should’ve been stronger. Strong enough to change that.”

Roronoa Zoro , who guards the ship all night, chasing some impossible standard of strength — ends up falling asleep beside you in the end. He doesn’t ask. Just leans into your shoulder, quiet, body finally giving out.

You wake to find him curled slightly toward your warmth, breathing steady, swords near, walls down.

Roronoa Zoro, whose affection is always gruff, always hidden in blunt words and tired scowls. But around you?

Those hard eyes — the eyes of a man who can cut mountains — soften just enough to give him away.

Sanji would tease him for it if he noticed. Zoro would deny it with everything he’s got. But it’s there.

Roronoa Zoro, who knows you're strong beyond question, still steps — almost instinctively — between you and danger, whether it’s a bar full of strangers or a battlefield full of chaos, the hidden message of his stance is clear:

“If anything touches you, it’ll go through me first.”

Roronoa Zoro, who likes it when you join him for training, whether it’s the middle of the day or deep into the night.

He won’t say it out loud, but he’s grown used to the sound of your footsteps approaching him, your breathing beside his in rhythm, your quiet presence watching his powerful swings, as he attempts to master a new move.

It’s become your unspoken ritual. Your routine. His peace. Your shared silence.

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kyllium · 11 days ago

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60 MINUTES IN HEAVEN ୨୧

꒰ summary ꒱ the crew's little scheme gets you and zoro together.

꒰ contents ꒱ smut! fem!reader. zoro is so head over heels for you. p in v. little boobs fixation. standing missionary sex. c*mming inside. sort of c*m eating? oral (fem receiving).

✉️ ྀི . . based on this ask! i think it differs a teensy bit from the request but i hope u still enjoy it <3

it is no secret that you and zoro have a thing for one another. every glance, every touch, every breath — the tension is palpable between the two of you and yet besides the entire crew, you're seemingly clueless to it all. either the both of you are just simply that dense or both equally afraid of making the first move.

so the crew decide to take it upon themselves to handle this whole ordeal.

one night, the crew are having a somewhat festive night. an array of wholesome foods prepared by none other than sanji; drinks galore and everyone's chugging it down as if it were their last; cheery music played by the talented skeleton. no special occasion — as far as you and zoro are aware. this entire party was planned by the crew for the sole reason of getting something started between you and the swordsman.

zoro is sitting next to you, a pint in his hand while his other hand rests just behind your back. not touching, just near enough to feel the fabric of your dress graze his fingertips. his face is flushed and he will contest that it's the booze but in reality, it's the thought of being next to you that's got him red — inhaling your sweet scent, hearing your voice, close enough to touch you but too scared to.

you're talking to him about the various shops you ventured in to today with nami and robin. your soft voice trills through the air, sounding like music to his ears. he is listening to you but at the same time, he can only seem to focus on the light pink that dusts your cheek and the way your lips move softly as you speak and how your knee is gently touching his own and—

"everybody!," franky yells. "come round! we're gonna be playing a super game!"

zoro's brought back to reality upon hearing franky's voice call out for them. begrudgingly, he gets up and you walk beside him, keeping close. it takes everything in him to not just drape an arm around your shoulder and pull you to his side. but he would hate to make you feel uncomfortable so with much restraint, he keeps his arms to himself, instead clutching the glass in his hand tightly that it seemed it would shatter at any moment.

franky makes everybody sit in a circle and then announces that the game you'll be playing is 7 minutes in heaven! oh, zoro's heart feels like it'll jump out of his chest. while it may be wishful thinking, to possibly get to spend it with you — a space with just you two, touching one another, possibly kissing one another, and maybe...

nami shouts out your name and his, waving two pieces of paper she had picked from a bowl. "you two! first ones in the closet!," she beams, though her smile tells zoro there's something more to this. though there isn't much time for him or you to even think about it or process everything before the whole crew pushes you into that small supply room at the end of the hall.

the door shuts and the crew's voices are heard from behind it, sounding as if they were cheering themselves on. but that's not of importance in this moment. what zoro does focus on is how he can hear you breathing near him, how your body is almost flush against his, and how you're peering up at him with the cutest doe eyes.

"ahem," he clears his throat, trying to keep any semblance of composure as he towers over you. "this is... awkward."

you let out a sigh, a smile stretching across your lips. "a little bit," you say under your breath. "well... we don't have to do anything anyway. we can just stay like this until the seven minutes are up."

though he is disappointed, he does his best not to show it. he just nods and tries to back away but accidentally stumbles over a bucket and you grab on to him to try lift him up, yet instead the two of you topple over, his back hitting the door and your body over his. he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as his other hand grabs on to the wall.

your face is buried in his chest, grabbing a hold of his t-shirt in your fists. he can feel your shaky breathes against him and he holds you tighter and says lowly, "hey. it's okay. i got you."

you raise your head up, chin resting on him, those sweet eyes gazing up at him once more. you're so close to him and he swears you could hear his heart hammering in his chest. 'god, she's so pretty,' he thinks to himself. the pink on his face darkens. he tries to tell himself that it's just the sake but even he cannot deny the feelings blooming within him. oh, the effect you have on him.

"thanks," you whisper, still clinging to him. he expects you to shift or get yourself off him but you don't. instead it feels as if... you're inching closer to his face until he can feel your breath fanning on him.

you're just looking at each other for a few moments, not uttering a single word. he looks at you, then at your lips, then back to you. and he notices you do the same thing. he's about to say something but is cut off by your lips on his. he's a bit stunned for a moment by your actions, not knowing what to do or how to react. though soon enough his lips move in sync with yours, pulling you in closer to himself, feeling your warm body against his.

after a long few moments, he pulls away, resting his forehead on yours and says in a smug voice, "thought ya didn't wanna do anything."

your cheeks turn rose-coloured, your eyes averting his. "i... i just..."

now it's his turn to cut you off by kissing you once more, a hand coming behind your neck and the other gripping on your hips. you let out a quiet moan and that has him even more riled up. he kisses you with more hunger, more desire, more fervour. oh, he's starving for you — all this time, longing to have you like this and to have him all to himself. he feels as if it's all a dream and he hopes he never wakes up.

he's got you pressed up against the wall, kissing you with such raw passion that it has him seeing stars. his hands roam all over your body, wanting to feel every inch of you. he slides them underneath, feeling your soft skin against his calloused one. his touch makes you shiver and when he brings them up to cup your tits, you moan into his mouth. he smirks and continues to knead the doughy flesh with his large palm, relishing the way you continue to let out those adorable, quiet mewls.

his lips drag across your face down to your neck, biting on the skin and leaving a trail of little love marks all along, marking him as yours. he helps you take off your top and upon seeing your bare chest, his already hard dick seemingly gets harder and twitches in his boxers. he glides his tongue over your nipples, eyes peering up at you as he did so, to gauge your reaction. the second you moan out his name, he's sucking on your perky buds, messy and sloppy. "ahh~ 's so good," you mewl, his mouth taking in one of your nipples and suckling on it while he rubs the other one between his fingers.

he continues his ministrations on your breasts, loving how soft and supple they are and how you're squirming with every lick. he's practically salivating on them, some drool dribbling from the sides of his mouth. after quite some time, he latches off from them with a quiet 'pop', your nipples slightly red and sensitive.

he brings himself back to eye-level with you, looking at you with lust blown pupils. he tucks a strand of hair behind your hair gently and asks you, "how... how far do you want to go?"

you gesture for him to come closer and you whisper coyly in his ear, "can we... go all the way?"

zoro feels like his knees are buckling and if it weren't for his hand supporting himself on the walls, he was sure he would have fallen. he groans lowly near the shell of ear and without a second thought, he pulls down his bottoms and his heavy, thick cock springs free, slapping against his abdomen. there is pre leaking from his globular tip, white pearlescent beads trickling down his shaft.

he uses his thumb to spread his pre over his cockhead, all over his length. he hooks an arm under one of your legs, hoisting them up and bringing it to your chest. he hikes up your skirt and pushes your panties to the side, then lines himself with your wet, sopping entrance and he feels his cock throb in his hands upon feeling you on him. he slowly pushes himself inside of you and stretching you out, biting down on his bottom lip to stop the whimpers that dare to spill out. but you just feel so warm, so tight, so syrupy around his shaft.

he rocks his hips, slow and steady at first, your velvety walls taking him so well. your whines and moans are louder than they were before, face contorted so cutely as he starts to quicken his pace. his fat head begins to kiss your cervix with every thrust and it had you throwing your head back in pure pleasure and ecstasy, clinging to him to make sure you wouldn't lose your balance.

with the way you're holding onto him and how you're panting and moaning, it makes his whole mind go fuzzy, completely drunken on you. his hips begins to rut into you quicker and harder, balls slapping against your sweet core. it's a wonder how he's able to keep you upright and also be able to ram into you so deliciously yet so harshly. you can feel and hear how needy he is by the way he's slamming into you and how he's doing his best to hold back his groans but some of them slip through, making your pussy walls flutter around him

"fuck, 's too good," he growls, resting his forehead on yours, mouth agape and eyes closed as both of you moan with one another and string out a line of curses. it feels as if the entire supply room is rocking along with you, items and supplies falling of the shelves with how roughly he's slamming into you.

your walls are getting tighter and tighter, making him groan deep and primal, feeling dizzy at the way you feel around him. "zoro, zoro," you whine, nearly crying at how delirious he's making you feel. "i think 'm gonna cum."

"let go for me, baby," he grunts, feeling his own climax building up. his nails dig into the fat in your sides, bruising the area. he doesn't know how much longer he can hold back, strokes languid and sloppy and needy.

your pussy suddenly spasms around his cock, your whole body trembling from the pure pleasure you were feeling. you moan out his name, the noise filling the room and ringing through his ears, which makes him reach his own high. he's unloading his warm seed into you, coating your walls white. "shit, shit, shit," he says under his breath, hips stuttering as he finishes filling you up.

he slides his cock out of your velvety pussy, seeing his cum drip out of you. the sight has his dick twitching in his hands, marvelling at how pretty you look so fucked out because of him and how pretty you look being filled with his cum. oh, he's not done with you yet.

he crouches down in front of you, face in front of your bare cunt. he's gazing almost dreamily at your glistening, dripping core and he takes two of his fingers and stuffs his cum back inside you. he feels your pussy throb around his fingers and he smirks, feeling oddly smug at the way you're writhing above him, hands tangled in his hair.

he spreads your legs apart, taking one of them and draping it over his shoulder. he gives a few soft kisses to your core, tasting a bit of himself on you — rather salty. he begins to lick slow, long strips along your slit, getting a taste of both you and him on his tongue. you whimper adorably as he continues to lap at your folds, guzzling down your arousal.

"so sweet," he says, more so to your pussy. he uses his fingers to spread your folds apart, admiring it for a couple of moments before diving back in and ravaging your poor cunt. the sensitivity and the pleasure has you crying out his name, your high-pitched moans echoing throughout the closet.

"god baby," he muses in between suckling on your clit and tonguing at you. "you're so cute. and so sweet."

his compliments make your face red, not being used to the swordsman saying such things to you. your only response is your adorable whining that has him devouring you savagely as well as him fisting his own cock. he already feels like he's going to come undone again, purely from the way you sound and the way you taste.

you start grinding your hips on his mouth, coating your arousal all over him and he loves how dirty you're making him feel. he flattens his tongue and lets you use him however and whichever way you wish. gripping his hair and guiding his head along his tongue, rolling your hips down on him — he's truly getting off on you getting off because he's not even touching himself anymore and he can feel the white waves of pleasure on its way to engulf him.

"'m cumming, 'm cumming!," you wail, soon smearing his face with your cloying arousal and he swallows and licks everything you have to offer him. as he does so, white spurts of cum shoot from his dick, making him groan into your pussy.

once he's done consuming every single, last bit of you, he gets up on his feet, chest rising and falling and still feeling high from the pleasure. he brings you into his embrace, so uncharacteristically soft and gentle. he strokes your hair, placing a wet kiss atop your head. "was that... good for ya?," he asks, voice somewhat strained. he is really worrying that maybe he was too forward or too rough or too—

"you were perfect," you muse, hugging him. he lets out a sigh of relief, holding you closer and tighter against his chest. the two of you just stay in there for a while, basking in each other's warmth and presence, hearts beating as one.

"hey," you say, breaking the silence. "those guys never came back for us."

"i have a feeling they had a hand in this," zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes at their rather childish and immature way of getting you two together. but he can't help feeling grateful for his members too for coming up with this 'scheme'. truly, if it weren't for them, he knows it would have taken eons for him to finally confess to you. while this was never how he planned doing it, he's more than satisfied.

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kyllium · 13 days ago

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DOWN THE HALL — R. ZORO

𖤐 biceps made for biting

previous | masterlist | next

EXTRAS!

𖤐 luffy my messy king

𖤐 zoro 100% posted that gym pic hoping you would say something. my fav plotter

𖤐 contact name reveal soon

𖤐 zoro is nonchalant asf but just know this man is grinning and giggling to himself every time reader flirts with him or presnts any interest in him

𖤐 vivi text nami back pls, we need a wlw victory in these times

pairing — roronoa zoro x fem! reader

synopsis — when your cat suddenly disappears from your apartment, you go crazy trying to find him. only to find your beloved cat, kuro, in the arms of your hot neighbor, roronoa zoro. trying to get your cat and the heart of your neighbor proves to be a difficult mission to say the least. genre/tags — social media!au, neighbor!zoro, modern!au, crack, fluff! not much angst tbh.

390 notes · View notes

kyllium · 13 days ago

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Zoro's the type to kneel on the mattress, thighs caging you in whilst his dick's sliding in and out of your sloppy cunt slowly.

No thrusts, no rhythm.. just deep drags that keep you stretched wide and dripping. He watches the way your hole clings to him, how your slick coats his cock with every pass, completely fixated on it while you writhe beneath him, begging and crying, losing your mind from how fucking empty it feels.

He won't give it to you. Not yet. That's not his style. He's patient and cruel with it, watching your pretty face break and your whines catching in your throat as tears start slipping down your cheeks from the frustration of it all. He's mean.

Say something stupid like 'I bet Sanji would finish the job-' and that smirk is gone in an instant. He'd take that shit personal. Obviously. Who wouldn't?

Next thing you know, he's fucking you like he's trying to carve his name into your spine, bruising your hips, using your cunt like it's his (cause it is) and if the shitty cook's the only one left on the ship? Even better.

He'd make damn sure Sanji hears you scream his name loud enough to echo through the goddamn walls. Letting him know who gets to fuck you dumb.

And guess who's outside the door with his hand down his pants, cock glistening with pre-cum, pissed off and burning with jealousy? Just ready to bust in, gut Zoro and fuck the grief out of you?

I won't elaborate further.

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kyllium · 14 days ago

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── 𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you loved to tease zoro, even if he seemed like he couldn't care less about you. zoro couldn't help but worry over you, hating how careless you were. a trip through the frozen mountains proves to be quite the test on your friendship.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: zoro x gn!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 11k

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: NOT beta read, requested, zoro is bad at crushes, kristoff-anna dynamic, canon typical violence, frozen au???, the plot outran me

𝐚/𝐧: i blacked out and woke up to this, now i will return to the void wence i came. until next time lovelies 🫶

Zoro was doing his best to act cool, and in this weather it wasn’t hard, but damn he hated ice.

Every step he took sunk into a foot of white snow, seeping into his boots and freezing every bit of his body. Not even the heavy coat you bullied him into could stave off the biting cold.

He shielded his eyes from the sun, gleaming off the ice yet never melting a thing, and huffed. His breath crystalized in front of him. The snowstorm had been brutal, blinding him and his crew as they trekked up the slope. When the snow cleared, the whole crew was gone.

Well, not entirely gone. That would've been too good.

“I’m never—” he nearly tripped face first into snow “—gonna hear the end of this.”

A bright chuckle to his right only dampened his mood further. You stomped along beside him, looking very content with the situation. You laughed against the harsh wind and grinned at the sun. “At least I managed to find you in the storm. You’d be a total lost cause if I hadn’t.”

You knew you were treading thin ice, so to speak. Zoro’s taut brow said that much. But teasing him was just too fun. Zoro tutted. “Only reason you found me was ‘cause you grabbed by shirt like a leech.”

You bumped shoulder, gazing at him warmly. “And wasn’t that lucky.”

“Just—quit distracting me. I’m tryna’ find the others.” He trudged a bit harder and a bit faster to get ahead of you, using all his willpower to ignore how you snickered at his expense. Oh, how you got on his nerves. Each and every one, gotten. It was a feat not even the stupid cook could surpass you in.

You just—you were so careless. With everything. Your punches, while effective, were blind and unforgiving, mostly to yourself. You laughed at the worst of times, doing a terrible job of choking it down so he would always catch your eye and be forced to crack a grin as well. In every fight he couldn’t stop himself from scanning the battlefield just to make sure you weren’t being an idiot like usual. And usually, he found you right at the center of the conflict with this look that just terrified him to no end.

You had no clue when to quit, evident even now as you rushed to keep pace with him. Yet for once, you didn’t say a word, allowing the silence to roll in as flurries of snow began to float down from the sky. Zoro sent you a suspicious glance just to see a wistful smile on your face. Careless.

It was in the way you ran ahead of him to jump in the piles of snow, laughing in his face when he told you to be careful. How you looked him in the eye as you tested the strength of a frozen lake while he stood with a set jaw. How you took his hand and dragged him with you to look at something shiny, only for it to be another damn icicle.

Maybe it wouldn’t bother him so much if he didn’t feel your safety was all on him. If the thought of you getting hurt didn't shoot him years back in time to the moment he felt the most helpless he'd ever been.

Soon, the moon hung high over your heads.

Zoro barely acknowledged the change, head ducked and pace set, headed up the mountain without any hesitation. He didn't even register the distant howling until your were shaking his arm.

He finally stopped to look at you, your lips pursed in frustration. “Zoro, we should find somewhere to rest.”

He sighed like he wanted to argue. Surely you could find the others at the peak of the mountain before sunrise if you just kept going. You glared just slightly. “The locals back in town said there were wolves up here. I’d rather not have to waste energy dealing with them… and you look tired.”

“I'm not.” Nonetheless, he followed your final pull on his shirt and followed you off the beaten path between the two long streaks of tall pine.

Your hand remained on him while you took the lead into the near woods, scrutinizing the area for anything harmful or useful. Your eyes were wide open, smile nowhere to be found, until you froze and zeroed in on a target. Zoro followed your gaze. A small bluff rose up out of the earth ahead, creating an arched hollow underneath its ledge.

“There,” you decided, dragging him behind you. For some reason, he let you.

He sat down at one end of the cover and watched as you dropped your bag to the ground beside you and quickly started on a fire. Zoro leaned back, brows met as you worked so intently. Your lips pursed as you nearly glared at the small flickering flame, as if daring it to go out, cupping your hands around it protectively.

The fire curled higher and higher, a thin plume of smoke dissipating into nothing above it. He was about to make a snarky comment about how the wind would just snuff it out, when he realized he couldn’t feel the harsh gusts at all. The wind was blocked by the bluff. He hadn’t even noticed, but you had, apparently.

You moved to sit beside him, putting a good bit of friendly space between you, and sighed heavily. It wasn’t a sound he was used to hearing from you—he was used to hearing you snicker and tease—and he found he didn’t like that kind of tired sound at all.

Wordlessly, you rested your head back for just two seconds before you shivered and turned to rifle through your backpack. Zoro leaned to get a peek over your shoulder, jerking back into place when you whipped around and threw a blanket at him. He grunted, annoyed, until he registered what he was holding. You pulled another one out for yourself, neatly folded against whatever else you had stored away.

“You just,” he started, looking at you weirdly, “happened to have two?”

You gave him a look just as weird as you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders and head. “No. I brought two. That one’s meant for you.”

Suddenly the blanket was the strangest thing he’d ever seen, analyzing it like it might come alive and bite him. His gaze rose to meet yours. “What?”

“Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t freeze.” You had the nerve to roll your eyes. You tried to be subtle as you shifted closer to him, the now gentle cold seeping into your bones still. He caught your eye and held it firmly. Your tongue passed over your lips as you grinned softly. “Might as well be me.”

You said it carelessly, like he knew you to be, like this small act of sincerity wasn't shortcircuiting his brain. He scoffed and stared at the blanket some more, hesitant before he gave in and draped it on his shoulders. He swallowed down a yawn, his face barely moving at all, but you noticed some small chip in his cool anyway.

“I’ll keep watch, you rest.” It’s not a suggestion. The way you push back your shoulders and stare out into the dark says enough. It irked him.

Maybe three minutes he stared at you off and on, not even trying to pretend to be sleeping, his face pulled unpleasantly. Around minute four you sighed and let your head tilt to the side, settling Zoro with a soft expression.

“Something on my face?” you asked, rubbing at your cheek roughly. Zoro buffered, his blinks slow whilst you grew increasingly self-conscious under his stare. It was like he looked into your very soul sometimes, and you doubted he had a clue. Finally, Zoro shook his head and turned away.

Now you watched him. He did his stubborn best to keep his eyes open out of spite, but you were right, he was exhausted. His eyes soon fluttered shut against his will, bringing a small smile to your face.

You could admit you liked him when he was like this: quiet, peaceful, pretty. It was only when he opened his mouth that he became the brute you so loved to disturb, if only because it was the only way you could excuse your constant desire to talk to him. And when he seemed to loathe every small moment in your company, teasing was your best option.

You scoot just an inch closer to him, simply testing the waters. Zoro doesn't move at all, his chest continuing to rise and fall with every harsh breath he took. So with the wind as your excuse, you moved till your shoulder rested against his own, your eyes on his face watching for any sign of disturbance.

He couldn't snap at you now, you thought, trying desperately to not smile too wide as you leaned your head back. Zoro might hate you when he was awake, but you could ignore all of that at the moment. You could forget how you were nearing the end of your patience with his careless words and glares, the way they pierced your heart, and set your gaze watchfully on the snow covered forest in front of you.

If you accidentally fell asleep only an hour later, Zoro would never know.

જ ⁀ ➴

Zoro woke up to a flurry of snowflakes in the morning, his nose twitching as one melted on his face. He rubbed his eyes, grunting away the remaining sleep, and blinked away the blurriness.

He glanced around to demand why you hadn't woken him so you could sleep, the words catching on his tongue when he found your blanket on the ground beside him.

It lacked something very important: you.

He jumped to his feet and hit his head against solid rock, tipping over with a curse and scrambling to his feet with his hands in his hair. Zoro spun around, calling your name once, twice. No reply. Just the peaceful fall of snow and empty white all around.

"Stop!" The swordsman whipped around lightning fast at the sound of your voice, a squeal echoing soon after.

His Wado drawn in a flash, Zoro shouted your name and bolted around the bluff and up a small hill, ready to gut whatever damned thing had the nerve to attack you--

You threw your head back with another laugh, face brighter than it had ever been when you laughed at him, and Zoro froze in place.

There you were, safe as can be, giggling as you fed a massive reindeer another carrot, its tongue tickling at your palm. The reindeer, and the large sleigh it was tacked to, wasn't what had his grip tightening around his sword.

Some guy towered over you, one arm leaned on his sleigh as he gave you this dazzling smile. You wiped the reindeer spit on your pants, your laughter falling short when you caught the soft look the guy was giving you. Zoro could see how you grew nervous under his stare even at a distance, awkward smile dancing across your lips and eyes bashfully averted.

You did a double take, catching sight of Zoro standing there stiff as a board, and your whole face lit up like a Christmas tree. You left your new friend standing there and bounded toward him, not noticing that his frown was more scowlish than normal.

"Zoro!" You beamed and reached to grab his arm. "Sorry I disappeared, I was--"

"You--you can't just run off like that!" He stepped back and glared at you, his cheeks flushed and brows drawn.

You flinched like he had slapped you, hands coming to rest against your chest defensively. You voice was small, your eyes wide. "What?"

He knew he was overdoing it, but your smiling face directed at that stranger flashed behind his eyes. And the memory of how terrified he'd been at the possibility of you being hurt...

"God, you're gonna get killed doing stupid shit one day and I won't be there to stop it!" Zoro's hand shook as he readjusted it on his sword. "Just--just use your head for once in your life!"

One step, two steps. You backed away from him bit by bit till you stood a good foot away from him, your lips parted as you breathed in sharply.

"Hey now, no need to get heated." That guy approached with his hands lifted slightly, a good-natured grin on his face. He locked eyes with Zoro as he came up beside you and dared to set a hand on your shoulder. Zoro had half a mind to cut it right off.

"I wouldn't underestimate your friend here," he was saying. "They're the one who saved me and my reindeer from some wolves last night, actually."

Zoro blinked at him, mouth opening and closing quite like a fish until he zeroed in on you and your growing confidence. "You... what?"

"Yeah." Your eyes darted up to his, blazing fire behind them. "Must've been a fluke, huh, since I was doing stupid shit. Oh! I'll be sure to let you know next time I gotta go piss, wouldn't want anything to happen to me since I'm such a fucken idiot, right?"

You were gone before he could process half of that, but he knew he had massively screwed up even before he turned to see you kick up a pile of snow and whisper scream into the air. Zoro, rigidly at a loss, startled at the reminder of the man's presence when said stranger stepped into his peripheral.

"I don't know what that was," he said, almost like an apology even as he looked at Zoro with thinly veiled contempt. He held out a large, calloused hand. "But I'm Hans."

Zoro's narrowed gaze darted from the hand to the man it belonged to before ignoring it entirely. "Roronoa Zoro."

Hans' complexion paled drastically. "R-Roronoa?"

Any satisfaction Zoro had jumped out the metaphorical window with your stormful return donning your backpack. Frustration simmering behind your every move, you trudged past the two men and threw your pack into the back of the sleigh.

You dusted snow off your gloved hands. "Hans is taking us up the mountain. Say thank you."

Hans looked as if he wanted to be anywhere else and Zoro looked like he wanted to put him six feet under the snow. Still, he was honestly terrified of the dark look in your eyes, so he conceded a reluctant, "Thanks."

"His reindeer's name is Vladimir," you said from your new place atop the sleigh, rearranging equipment to make room for someone to sit.

"You want me to--"

Your eyes instantly grew stormy with a don't test me kind of look. Zoro's jaw snapped up, yet even in the face of your anger, he had his limits. You didn't press further, ignoring him entirely and choosing a seat at the front of the sleigh.

Hans glanced between the two of you nervously while he effortlessly jumped into his sleigh and took the seat next to you, taking up the reins connecting his reindeer, apparently named Vladimir.

Zoro glared into your back as he stepped up too, looking down at the sea of scattered equipment in the sleigh's bed, and settled down in the empty space you had made.

The reindeer huffed and started up a steady pace, heaving the sleigh behind it effortlessly. And so, the four began their journey up the mountain. Zoro watched Hans steady your shoulder when you jolted with the movement, and decided that he hated everything to do with snow more than he'd hated anything else.

"So," he broke the silence five minutes in. "Hans. What're you doing here?"

You shot him a glare to which he rolled his eyes. Hans remained oblivious. "Oh, uh, right now I'm sellin' firewood in the villages down the mountain."

Zoro cast the many tools a curious glance, noticing the lack of actual wood. "Huh."

"Hans is the official wood deliverer for the whole kingdom," you blurted, eyeing Zoro out of your peripheral. "You must know these woods like the back of your hand."

The man practically fluttered under your praise, his cheeks blooming a pretty pink that had Zoro's eyes rolling back into his skull. "Somewhat. I grew up here, but there are some spots I still don't know by heart."

"I bet you hardly ever get lost," you prattled on while checking your nails innocently. You shot Hans a charming smile. "I bet not even a snowstorm could knock you off track."

Hans couldn't help but chuckle bashfully, rubbing at his neck. "I guess you could say that. It's been a while since I've been lost, at least."

"Maybe you could give Zoro some pointers." The man in question shot you a harsh glare you couldn't see, too busy batting your eyes at the guy melting under your gaze. "His internal compass is a little... nonexistent."

Zoro's scoff was definitely loud enough for you to hear, yet you ignored it entirely in favor of shooting him the most infuriating wink. He wondered how much the cook would kill him if he tackled you into the snow.

A tense silence fell upon the three of you, only broken by the reindeer's occasional huffing, when Hans cleared his throat. Both you and Zoro's eyes darted to him at once.

"If you don't mind me asking, you're part of the Strawhat Pirates, right?" At your nod, he turned his attention away form the snow, even dropping the reins to his lap. "I heard in town that you guys were here. I was surprised to run into two of you. Thought your crew would've made it to the peak by now."

"Got lost in the snowstorm last night." Zoro beat you to answering, ignoring your sharp look. "The others should be dealing with the issue up there."

Hans nodded. "Probably. I can't tell you enough how grateful the townspeople are. Once the witch is taken care of, the snow should begin to fade."

You shifted to face him entirely. "About this witch. Do you believe it? That it's really a witch causing the freeze?"

Hans' sigh materialized in the air. "I'm not sure what I think. All I know if that someone is up on the mountain, farther than anyone is willing to go, and they're angry." He returned his focus ahead, grip on the reins tight and unforgiving. Something foggy rose behind his eyes. "The storm started when they made themself known. That's all I know for certain."

He was lying about something, you just couldn't place what. Whatever the case, Hans knew more than he was letting on, the tightness in his body language said that much. You chanced a look behind you, meeting eyes with Zoro, and he held a similar look of skepticism. You shared an understanding, then you remembered you were mad at him, and stuck your tongue out before whipping back around. Zoro sighed heavily.

"You're lucky I found you, actually," said Hans. "I was headed this way anyway, so it's no trouble taking you up the mountain. 'Sides, it's the least I could do."

You resisted the urge to glance at Zoro again, if only to see if he was curious too, but held your ground and settled for biting your lip in thought. As kind and as handsome as this Hans guy was, you were growing more and more cautious the longer he spoke.

The faster you could get up the mountain and rejoin your crew, the better.

જ ⁀ ➴

Hans was there you catch you when you stumbled off the sleigh, his charming grin awkward as he asked, "Are you all right?"

Your cheeks grew warm as an unflattering laugh left you. "Fine! Yep, I'm good. Heh..."

Zoro rolled his eyes and jumped down as well. He glared up at the tall mountains up ahead. "You said our friends should be up there?"

Hans nodded once. "Should be, if they went the right way. We have to go on foot now, the pass will get too rocky for the sleigh soon."

You rubbed your hands together, smirking at the trek ahead of you. "Sounds good. Honestly, Luffy's probably already beating her ass as we speak."

Your guide's brows furrowed then. "Actually--"

"If he has started, then we better hurry," Zoro said, one hand on his swords as he set off.

Hans turned to send his reindeer back down with the sleigh, patting the creature's nose fondly before pointing him away. He watched his friend trot a ways away before adjusting his pack on his shoulders and moving to catch up to Zoro.

You walked at a gentle pace, taking the moment to observe the beautiful landscape around you. The woods had given way to a steep uphill climb laid between tall jagged rock towering on either side. The pass up the mountain grew narrower the further up you went, and indeed rocks and fallen trees blocked the path here and there.

Not even five minutes in you were slumping over in agony.

"How'd we even make it so far on foot yesterday?" you complained loudly, rubbing at your eyes and making your vision blurry for a moment.

Somehow, Zoro was walking beside you now, a fair distance between you. Hans was leading the way around a large boulder. The swordsman scoffed at you. "You begged me to carry you for most of it."

"And you wasted the opportunity by refusing me, I remember," you lamented sarcastically, matching his energy with a roll of your eyes.

Hans glanced back with some concern, glancing between you and Zoro like he was afraid one of you would erupt, and trudged forward with new determination.

You sighed deeply. Teasing Hans wasn't fun anyway once Zoro started ignoring you--and even less fun when he completely fell asleep on the sleigh.

It was like he could care less what you did or what you thought of him. And when you cared so much, well, it drove you mad. No matter how you tried to ignore it, his attitude hurt, and that was no one's fault but your own for caring at all.

"Hans," Zoro broke the tension. "Why're you headed up the mountain? Thought you said no one goes this high 'cause of the witch."

For a long moment, you wondered if Hans was going to ignore him, exchanging a confused look with Zoro when your guide's shoulders tensed. Hans fixed his expression and smiled. "I left something up here some years ago. Might as well take the chance to get it back while I'm helping you."

Only when Hans' back was turned and he pressed on ahead did you sidle up to Zoro and say in a conspiritory whisper, "Well, that was cryptic as fuck."

He nearly smirked before he was shooting you a look. "I thought you were ignorin' me."

You pursed your lips and whipped forward. "I am, you asshole."

"What is wrong," he barked at your profile. "I snap at you all the time. What's so different now?"

"Nothing!" You sent him a scathing look, dark enough that Zoro faltered, just for a moment. You were seething. "Maybe I just got tired of taking it."

And with that, he was staring at your back again. You marched up to walk in step with Hans, who was doing an ass job at pretending not to listen.

Zoro couldn't keep the absolutely miserable expression off his face. If any of his crew could see him, he'd never hear the end of it. Zoro could hardly believe it himself: he nearly missed your teasing.

The thought itself tripped up his feet. He remained lagging behind the rest of the trek, eyes glued to the back of your head, lost in his thoughts until he almost walked right into your back.

You and Hans stood at the edge of a ravine, staring down into the dark depths below and then at the rope bridge stretching across what had to be at least ten yards. The rickety thing looked like it could snap at any moment, the ropes tying it to your side aged and frozen. Daunting, to say the least.

"Don't worry," said Hans, his tone only slightly faltering in its confidence. "I used to take this bridge all the time, it should hold all three of us if we distribute the weight well enough."

"You're joking, right?" Zoro scoffed. You gave him a sour look in response, and promptly moved to be the first to step out onto the deathtrap.

"It looks fine," you lied, chin held high. "Let's just get going."

Hans made a sound suspiciously like a yelp and yanked you back by your wrist. "Uh, let me go first."

You stepped out of the way for him, cheeks slightly warm, narrowing your eyes at a smug Zoro. You huffed in his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he smirked. Zoro made to follow after Hans, leaning into your ear as he passed. "No need to try an' impress me."

He left you floundering behind him, nothing even close to a complete leaving your lips. The bridge jumped with your footsteps when you ran after him, a finger poked into his back harshly.

"I was not trying to impress you." You walked on your tiptoes so you could shout the words in his ear, only drawing another infuriating laugh out of the swordsman. "I'd rather impress anyone before I impress you! Not like it'd be hard, moss for brains!"

"Ooh," Zoro said with a glance over his shoulder. "Touchy much?"

"You--!"

"God!" Hans suddenly whirled around, hands in his hair, crazed look on his face. You and Zoro froze instantly. "I don't care about your lovers quarrel! You're gonna get us killed if you keep jolting the bridge!"

Your jaw practically hit the ground. "Woah!"

"Lover huh?" Zoro's cheeks burned, his shoulders drawn back and tense.

Hans cut off any protests you had with a single finger. "I don't care! You wanna get up that mountain? Shut up."

He turned around just as quickly, his steps carefully placed even as he radiated frustration.

You avoided Zoro's eyes though you felt them zeroed in on your face. You gently pushed against his shoulder, muttering, "Just keep walking."

At the halfway mark of the bridge there was a gap where two wooden boards used to lay, but was now a one way trip to the bottom of the ravine. Hans and then Zoro stepped over it effortlessly, barely casting a glance downward. The longer you stared at it the wider the gap seemed to be.

No matter how you pushed yourself, your hands stayed planted on the ropes either side of you and your feet wouldn't move farther than a few inches. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the seemingly bottomless abyss down below... but suddenly, a rough hand appeared in front of you, forcing itself into your focus with its broad help and burly appearance.

Heart stuttering, your eyes darted up to meet his. Zoro stood on the other side of the gap, solid and sturdy, his eyes quickly averted the longer you stared at him. Zoro cleared his throat and reached out further for you. "We're losing daylight."

You blinked rapidly before nodding, placing your hand tightly in his, taking a deep breath, and taking a large step over the gap. Your eyes close against your better judgement, foot slipping just slightly as another hand roughly steadies your shoulder.

And then, he's snapping in your face again.

"Wha--don't close your eyes, idiot!" You clench your teeth, already set off, and whip open your eyes. Zoro looked... concerned. Instead of angry like his voice suggested, his brows were drawn taut and his mouth twisted into a frown.

You faltered for all of one second before you shook it off. "Why do you even care?" You pushed past him and set forth quickly.

Zoro let you by easily, a million different emotions rushing through his head until he settled on exasperation, as he so often did, and the words left him before he could catch them. "You're careless."

You stopped mid step, sending his heart racing with adrenaline. Shit, was all he could think. You turned slowly, something shiny in your eyes as you glowered at him. "Careless?"

He didn't have time to backtrack or double down, whichever way he chose. Snap.

Your expression fell in an instant. The sound of a gradual cracking. You turned back to where Hans should be, finding him standing safely on the other side of the ravine, his face sheet white.

He gasped. "Run!"

Zoro had shoved your forward before you could catch sight of the ropes tying the bridge down snapping little by little until the way you came began to plummet down.

"We're not gonna make it!" you shouted desperately, feeling the way the bridge tilted backward. The other side was still too far away. This was it.

Something snapped in Zoro, his arms enveloping you in a single swoop, ignoring your shouting, forgetting all his fear. All he saw was you, falling to your death, and so he jumped. He threw you as hard as he could before his momentum ran out, and he was plummeting to his doom.

You screamed and flailed your limbs, barley registering what had happened. Hans and the edge of the ravine grew closer and closer, yet not close enough--your front half rammed into the ledge, knocking the air from your lungs. Hans gripped your arms and started to haul you up just when your head caught up to your body.

"Let--" You braced your feet against the ledge. "Let me go!"

You broke from Hans' grip and flew back, your name falling from his lips as you descended like a bullet. Moving on instinct, you shoved a hand into your backpack and gripped the shell buried deep inside, shedding the whole pack an instant later.

Zoro, resigned to his fate, was ever so surprised to open his eyes to you hurling yourself into him. "Y/N--!"

"Grab onto me!" The moment his arms wrapped around your middle you slammed your fist onto the apex of the dial, a blast of air rocketing you right back up into the sky. You held it down, petrified it wouldn't be enough, Zoro's loud ass screaming in your ear.

The dial fizzled out, the pair of you flying in a near graceful arc before another round of expletives fled Zoro's mouth as you once again felt your organs rearrange themselves with another sudden drop.

You landed on Zoro's chest, his arms locked around your waist, your interlocked bodies bouncing and tumbling on packed snow till you rolled to a stop battered and bruised.

The world rang in your ears, but you still lifted your head to assess the state of your friend. He groaned, looking up at you bleary eyed. "Are you okay?"

Zoro buffered, blinked, and shot up. His hands closed around your arms a bit too tightly, his eyes scanning your face as anger clouded his face. "What the fuck was that?! Why would you--why did you--"

"Oh, shut up!" You shoved him back just as harshly, breaking free your arms. His back hit the snow as you knelt over him, blazing down at him. "Like you were any different, you ass! You don't get to sacrifice yourself for me!" Your hand clawed at his shirt. "I won't let you!"

The silence was deafening. Zoro swore your voice echoed off the empty white snow. You heaved, a wild look in your eyes, hand still clutching him like you might decide to punch him. Zoro couldn't help but think it: you were beautiful.

You released him like you were disgusted, falling back on your knees with this broken expression. You scoffed and pushed yourself to your feet. Zoro watched your eyes go unfocused on the space behind him, waiting for the ball to drop on bated breath.

"And for the record," you said slowly, quietly. "Someone who's careless wouldn't have thought to bring a breath dial."

You turned, voice rising against the wind. "Someone careless wouldn't have made sure you don't freeze to death." Your fists curled, the air crackling with your anger. You whirled on him, eyes shut lest he see the pain they reflected. "Quit trying to act like you a give a damn about me! I know you don't care!"

You hated how your shoulders shook. You hated how afraid you felt. But most of all, you hated how he just sat there, dumbfounded. You blinked down at him, lashes fluttering to fight against the burn of tears. You had to get away from him, away from his silence. "Forget it."

"I'm sorry."

You made it six whole steps before he said it, his voice softer than you'd ever heard it. You nearly refused to believe it was him. You didn't dare to turn around, to breathe. "What?"

Zoro's answer was a series of harsh breaths. His lips moved but words failed to rise no matter how he tried to force them--he didn't know what to say. His hands raked at the snow, freezing his fingertips painfully so. He thinks you scoffed before your foot moved to take another step, and suddenly it didn't matter what he said.

"Wait. I... you..." Zoro lumbered to his feet. "I'm... sorry. I've been a dick."

"Tch." You refused to turn around. All your resolve would crumble it you looked at him.

"You're not careless, not all the time," he said, holding his breath when you shifted from foot to foot.

"You're just saying that." You shook your head despairingly. "Zoro, why else would you think so lowly of me?"

Zoro froze, blinking wide, and trudged toward you without thinking. He rounded you quickly and held you in place with a single look. "Is that what you think?"

Startled, you nodded, unable to look away from his bewildered expression. Luckily, Zoro looked down at his feet before you had the chance to combust.

"I think... highly of you. But I--I just worry."

You dared to think his cheeks turned pink when he said it. Your confusion only grew. "About me?"

He gave a gruff nod. It took him a moment to continue, his eyes searching the empty area to the left. "I think so much of you, that if anything happened, I wouldn't forgive myself. If you..."

Now you moved to catch his avoidant eye. "Zoro, it wouldn't be your fault if something did happen to me. And... well, I guess I'd like it if you had a bit more faith in me, y'know?"

You chanced a smile when Zoro simply stood there. "I know I goof off a lot, but who is it looking after you most days? Me. You never did thank me for the blanket, and I handled those wolves by myself, and I saved your life just now! I've proven myself more than enough times..." You poked his forehead when his eyes went unfocused, bringing his attention back to you. "So put a little trust in me, Zoro."

With a thousand little thoughts reflected in his eyes, Zoro nodded firmly. "I will. I do."

Your smile didn't exactly meet you eyes yet, but he would work on that in the future. Zoro hardly remembered why they were there in the first place anymore, lost in staring directly into your eyes till it was just on the verge of being weird. Hans appeared suddenly, running up a hill and breathing wildly.

He tripped over snow when he saw the two of you, hitting the snow and staring between you with the most exasperated look on his face. "You're--You're crazy! How on earth are you still alive?!"

"Y/N," Zoro said. You turned to see what he wanted only to realize that was his answer. Zoro grinned. "Y/N saved us."

You let out an unpretty laugh, cheeks burning as you hid it behind a cleared throat. "Whatever. How far did we fly?"

"Like--" Hans waved his hands around "--a long way." He finally calmed his breathing down enough to get up and approach you. "I guess this is just a short cut. We're closer to the peak--"

He paused in brushing the snow off his clothes, face going pale, his eyes set high in the sky. You and Zoro locked eyes and turned at once, spotting it instantly. The snowstorm circled like a whirlpool around the highest peaks of the mountain, right over the area you assumed you were meant to go.

Hans walked between you and Zoro roughly. "Let's go."

Again, you looked at Zoro, concern now plastered all over your face. He met your eyes steadfast, a level of certainty in his stance that assured you that your crew would come out on top, as always.

જ ⁀ ➴

"Nami!" You sprinted at her the moment you turned the corner and saw her. You, Zoro, and Hans had enetered the elaborate palace made of ice maybe five minutes ago, following Hans down one of three hallways like he knew exactly where to go, as if he'd been there before.

You didn't have the chance to dwell on the oddness of it, too concerned with the sight of Nami contained inside a cage made completely of ice. To her right, Sanji's entire lower half was frozen mid-kick, his face taken by relief at the sight of you. Behind him, only Robin's head remained visible above a pillar of ice. Her hands were stuck inches apart, as if she was just about to use her devil fruit powers before getting put on ice.

"Sanji? Robin? What happened? Where are the others?" You met Nami through the bars of ice, taking her frigid hand in both of your gloved ones. You cursed softly. "Nami, where're your gloves?!"

"One question at a time," she gritted out through a shiver. She looked blue in the face despite her puffy coat. "It's hard to think in this cold."

You released her hand when you felt Zoro's presence by your shoulder. Grabbing his arm, you nodded at the cage. "Can you break it?"

"It's just ice," he scoffed. Zoro shot you his best cocky smirk and unsheathed his Wado.

Nami fled to the farthest corner. "You better not cut me!"

While Zoro dealt with the cage, you moved to flutter around your other friends, worried eyes blown wide. You approached Sanji first and laid a tentative hand on his elbow. His teeth chattered even as he gave you a charmingly warm smile.

"'M glad you're--all right," he managed to say. His hand, still hidden by a glove, rested atop yours. "Was afraid m-mosshead would get y-you eaten."

"We found a local, he helped us find our way here," you assured him, moving to Robin with increased terror. "Robin, how do you feel?"

Her brow ticked just slightly, lips curled downward. She strained, probably trying to break free, before her head fell forward. "Chilly."

"I don't want your help, marimo!"

"Whatdya mean?! You gonna freeze here, huh?"

The conflict was solved by shattered ice before you could whip around. Sanji fell backward with a snarl and scrambled to his feet just as quickly. "You coulda cut my leg off!"

Zoro dared to smirk at him. "Whoops."

"Zoro," you hissed. His face fell instantly, head whipping around to look at you. "Help Robin."

But the swordsman appeared more hesitant this time, sizing the ice block holding Robin's body warily. "I just, I dunno how I could slice it without slicing her too."

Hans let out something like a grunt and marched up with a torch from his backpack. He lit it on fire with a match and shoved it into Nami's hands. "Just melt her out until it's soft enough to break."

He settled Sanji with a somber look. "Where did he go?"

Sanji, though miffed with his flippant tone, pointed a finger at the large doors at the end of the hall. Now that you looked around, you seemed to be in some sort of entryway.

"Hans!" You raced to stop him from just storming in guns blazing, grabbing his sleeve harshly. "What are you doing? This witch is-is dangerous! Let us handle it and--"

"This," he growled, ripping himself from your grip, "isn't yours to handle. I helped you find your friends, not get out before you get hurt."

Whatever else he had to say was cut off by the telltale sound of Luffy's voice bellowing from the throne room, "GUM GUM--PISTOL!"

Sanji and Zoro flanked your shoulders all at once. "Our captain is fighting whatever the hell is in there," said Zoro. "Long as he's in there, this remains our fight."

Hans measured the three of you up with a resigned scoff. "Fine. Just stay out of my way."

He went on ahead, leaving you and the boys to follow his trail. You leaned into Zoro, whispering, "I don't think this guy's a woodcutter."

Zoro scoffed lightly, daring to grin at you despite the unknown in front of you. "Sorry you had a crush on him?"

You gasped, reeling back your fist to collide with his arm only for him to catch it and laugh. His face had the audacity to light up in the most beautiful way, his eyes crinkling and smile wide.

"I--I didn't have a crush on him," you hissed.

Zoro released your hand too softly. "Please, it was obvious."

"I was trying to--" You clamped your mouth shut and faced forward sharply, horrified you almost let that slip. He didn't say anything more, but the satisfied look on his face made it seem like he knew.

Sanji gagged as Hans approached the throne room doors, his eyes glaring into the man's back. "Darling, you have questionable taste."

You let out a resigned huff and caught Zoro's eye, your cheeks warming all of a sudden. Honestly, you had to agree.

The strange man threw open the doors, mouth opening to announce some grand speech probably, but was unfortunately cut off when your captain barreled into him and sent them both hurtling backward.

Hans coughed, pressing his hand to his side, and sat up quickly. Luffy groaned underneath him, his stretchy legs tangled in both of Hans'.

Calling out his name, you ran up and grabbed under his arms, pulling him away from the fake woodcutter. Luffy's legs slithered as they untangled from Hans, which was a disturbing feat to witness.

"Almost had 'im," Luffy muttered, jaw setting.

With a glare in your direction, Hans rises to his feet and dusts off his clothes, setting one foot in front of the other, words rising to the tip of his tongue until he lifts his gaze and sees the young man standing between the large doors.

"Hans," the apparent witch said, his voice echoing off the ice. One after the other, Usopp and Chopper peak around the corner behind him.

He takes a step forward, all his plans and speeches forgotten. "Jack."

Luffy, now stanidng beside you, scratches his chin. "Who's that guy?"

"Our guide," you blurt, head tilted. "Is that really the witch?"

"Yup."

"Kinda... anticlimactic."

"Yuh huh."

Both of the strange men whip around at once and shout, "Shut up!" They freeze, glancing back at each other, and fall still once again.

From the other end of the hall, Nami's voice carried, "What's happening?! Is Luffy winning?!"

"Not sure!" you called back.

"Wait." Zoro walked up to the pair still staring at each other blankly. "You know the witch? Why didn't you say that before?"

Instead of answering, Hans cracked a grin. Surprisingly, the witch did as well, musing, "They're still calling me that?"

"It stuck," Hans laughed. "Not particularly wrong."

The witch, Jack (apparently), scoffed in reply. His gaze swept over the lot of you, all geared to attack should the moment come. "What exactly brings you and these... pirates to my palace, brother?"

Your jaw fell instantly. "Brother?"

Hans turned back with all the ease in the world. "I didn't lie to you. I just didn't exactly tell you the truth." He swept a hand across his chest in a simple bow. "My full title is Crown Prince Hans."

"Oh shit," you awed.

"I don't care who's your brother!" Luffy pushed up his sleeves, ready to fire another punch at any moment. "I came to end this winter!"

"So did I!" said Hans, his face falling solemnly. He faced the witch once again. "I meant to come sooner, but you've hidden far up the mountain."

Despite the tease in his brother's voice, Jack visibly tensed, taking a wary step back. He shot Luffy an almost desperate kind of glare. "I told you, I don't know how!"

Somehow, the room got colder. Hans stepped forward every time his brother backed away, a tender hand outstretched. "Yes, you can. If you just come back with me, we can figure it out. Together. Like Mother and Father wanted."

"You..." The ice all around began to fracture little by little. "You came all this way for nothing." The witch tightened his fists and breathed out a sigh. "Hans, I don't know what you thought would happen. There's no ending this winter... not without killing me."

The brothers exchanged an icy look, before Jack released a gentle laugh. "But you already knew that, didn't you?"

"I--I didn't come here to kill you," Hans insisted.

They continued like that, back and forth, the air getting stiffer and the cold growing harder. Spirals of ice crept up along the walls like vines. You stepped closer to Luffy, casting a glance back at Zoro and Sanji. Usopp and Chopper had snuck around and joined them.

Good. Everyone was in one place. Escape could be possible, probably.

"Hey," Luffy murmured, leaning closer to your ear. "I'm gonna knock Witch-Guy out."

You gripped his arm in a vice. "No. You--"

"He's gonna hurt your friend." Luffy shook you off easily. His usual playful attitude was gone, replaced by that rare, frightening seriousness.

You followed his gaze. Hans was backing his brother into the throne room, his eyes pleading, his hands reaching. The wi--Jack was curled in on himself, flurries of snow enveloping his head and sparks of ice flying off his arms.

Sanji's hand rested on your shoulder, gently tugging you back. "Love, get away."

The sound of Zoro unsheathing his sword met your ears--a sound you'd know anywhere--and you saw Jack raising his hands over his head, shouting something drowned out by the sudden gusting wind.

Everything happened very quickly.

Luffy, rushing forth with a fist drawn back. Hans, ignoring the ice hitting his face, reaching out for his brother. Your name falling from Sanji's lips.

And you, somehow, lunging at Hans just as Jack was knocked back by Luffy's fist and a blast of ice shot out from his splayed hands. You would have landed on top of Hans if you hadn't been sledgehammered in the back and rocketed to the side.

All the freezing cold from before could be considered warm compared to this. A cough forced its way from your lips. Your hands quivered as you struggled to push up off the ground, falling back onto your side. A faint ringing in the back of your mind overpowered the voices calling out to you.

You blinked and your face was being held by two warm hands, the kind of warm that made you want to be engulfed in it entirely. You blinked again and the ringing faded as you registered Zoro's face in front of you.

"--ou okay?" His voice wasn't meant to be that soft, you thought. Zoro was anything but soft. It just didn't suit him. Still catching the breath that was knocked out of you, you barely noticed when he drew you closer to his body.

A tight tingling festered in your chest, your hand clawing at the area, trying to scratch a deeply set itch. Zoro caught the motion, his hands moving from your face to your back, pressing into the spot you'd been hit.

"Ow," you groaned. "Cut that out."

The swordsman released a sigh at the sound of your voice. You could still bitch at him--that was a good sign.

"What even happened?" He looked like he was biting back words, mouth opening and closing uselessly until Sanji appeared over his shoulder.

He took a drag from his cigarette and puffed it out fast. "That witch hit you with ice." Sanji's set jaw softened. "Are you all right?"

You could still move your fingers and toes, and now that was ringing was gone you could feel you strength slowly return. You managed to sit up on your own. Zoro didn't move away by an inch, eyes on you like a hawk.

"I'm okay," you assured them. With Zoro's help, you stood to your feet, ignoring the quake in your knees. "Cold, but okay."

Neither of them believed you, obviously. Sanji's skeptical eye was pulled away when Hans clobbered Luffy on the head. He rushed over to put the guy back in his place while Chopper tentatively approached the knocked out Jack with his first aid kit.

In truth, you'd been lying through your teeth. You barely withheld the the shivers threatening to wrack your body. Cold didn't begin to describe the sensation crawling from the pit of your chest.

Zoro called your name and the sound alone caused your mask to slip, just a bit. He saw, of course, grabbing you by your shoulders and staring directly into your eye, like he could will the truth out of you.

You smiled casually, hands moving to shake him off in vain. He needed to stop looking at you, because dammit, it was working.

The fight in you faded more and more the longer his hands warmed your shoulders and his steady gaze warmed your face. Suddenly, you let the fatigue cloud your eyes. You leaned into his hands, eyes fluttering, shoulders jerking. "Zoro, I'm really cold."

That was all he needed. Your feet were swept off the ground, his arms enveloping you, his warmth defending you against the incessant chill.

Zoro rounded on the bickering group and felt his patience snap. "Hey!"

All eyes on him, he couldn't help the stagger in his breath. He held you closer to his chest as if it would do anything to help you. Zoro didn't have any idea what was wrong with you, this magic shit wasn't his cup of tea, but he could be pissed really well, especially when it came to you. So he zeroed in on Hans and locked his target.

"What the hell did he do?!"

Hans' eyes drifted down to your form, fully shaking now that you stopped pretending, vainly attempting to hide from the cold the further you curled into Zoro's arms. "They... they were hit with the ice?"

Sanji gripped Hans by the collar fiercely. "Saving you from that lunatic!"

Hans pushed back at that, hand shoving Sanji back by his chest. "Jack isn't a lunatic! He didn't meant to do any of this! He's cursed!"

Zoro marched up to him, towering over the man. "You think I care? What did that ice do?"

All Hans could do was stare at your contorted face in horror, shaking his head quickly. "I don't... Jack wouldn't..."

"Set them down!" Chopper ran over, his hooves clopping across the ice. Zoro begrudgingly knelt to the ground and rested you in front of the little doctor. Chopper pressed his stethoscope to your chest, his eyes flickering to your face. You forced open your eyes.

"It's probably just a cold," you murmured.

The way Chopper's ears flattened against his hat said otherwise. Nami and Robin approached at a run then, gasping one after the other at the sight in front of them. Chopper got in your face and mumbled something the others couldn’t hear, but it made your frown deepen before you gave him a nod. He worked his little hooves and unzipping your coat, unbuttoning the front of your shirt, and parting it just enough to see a sliver of your skin.

Zoro was the first to see it, yet he didn’t gasp like Chopper or curse like Sanji or ask what was happening liked Luffy. He just… stared, like he didn’t believe what he saw. The ice started at the center of your chest in a starburst like shape, reaching out in tendrils that grew ever so slowly the closer he watched them.

You peeked down at your chest and reacted much like Zoro, silent as your eyes rose to meet his. You winced as you sat up, resisting the urge to clutch your chest, and looked at him so dearly. The clouds in his parted briefly when you grabbed his chin.

“No,” you commanded. Zoro blinked helplessly. “It’s not your fault.” You dropped your hand and somehow found it in you to grin. “I was just being… careless, right?”

Maybe he was right to worry after all, you mused to yourself, missing the way Zoro’s whole face crumbled, all his certainty drained out of him.

Zoro leaned away from you sharply, and you would think he was actually glaring at you if you didn’t know his actual glare so well. "Don't do that. You're turning to ice. Don’t you dare try to comfort me.”

Again, your eyes were drawn to the star on your chest. Your lips quivered now, your body fighting against the cold and longing for the warmth Zoro had given… Though, if you let yourself think it, the cold chill started to feel warm against your skin. A sickening warmth. The ice was creeping up your collarbone.

So you ignored it entirely. You ignored everything, everyone, hearing death approaching the door. You leaned back on your hands and burned his image into your mind. "I can't not comfort you. It's, like, my self-appointed job."

Nami was choking behind her hand, you think. Chopper waved his hooves helplessly, wracking his brain. Usopp stood behind him, his jaw agape, eyes far away. Sanji stood a pillar next to Robin, each staring vacantly into space, albeit with an extra shine in their eyes.

And Zoro refused to look at you. "Why?" he demanded.

"Someone's has to,” you said so simply. “So I look out for you. I guess sometimes… y-you worry me as much as I worry you.”

No one said anything after that, as if they could say anything. A sense of the inevitable filled the air and stole everyone’s voice. You fought to remain sitting, not wanting your last moments to be just lying down and taking it. Which made you think… “Should I choose a good pose?”

The joke didn’t land, apparently. No one laughed at least. The only reaction you got was from Zoro, his face whipping up to give you the sharpest glare he’d ever given you and—he reached out and hugged you. You don’t think he was breathing, his arms wrapping around you and dragging you close in one swift motion.

You’re certain you’re cold to touch, your skin had to be freezing, but he held you anyway, clutching you closer every few seconds. Your surprise faded fast along with all your bravery, and you buried your face in his neck, hugging him back with all the strength you had. You could feel the ice reaching your neck now.

“Idiot,” he hissed into your skin. “You—No, you’re not, I… I’m sorry. I need…” Your hands clawed at his hair, His fingers dug into your sides. You let him speak, unsure what you would even say in return, when his voice met your ear quietly, “I think I’m in love with you. You can’t go.”

He needed you to know. To understand. If possible, you gripped him tighter. Like a lifeline. His lips grazed your hairline, the fear radiating off of you snuffed out by the sole feeling of being loved. Funny. Just a day ago you were half convinced he hated you. And now? You had no doubt in your frozen heart that Zoro, despite his edges, despite his harshness, loved you.

The cold was its warmest now. Chopper had warned about the symptoms of hypothermia. You didn’t have to open your eyes to know the ice was spreading faster now, it had to be turning you to ice while you wrapped yourself around the swordsman. You’d die listening to his heartbeat, the sniffs of your friends, and… Chopper’s sharp gasp?

“It’s…” His hooves clipped as he danced in place. “It’s melting!”

That was a shock. You ripped yourself away from Zoro so fast you knocked his head with your own, the pair of you wincing in tandem. Sure enough, when you looked down at yourself, the ice was melting before your very eyes, soaking into your skin and clothes. “The hell?”

“Y/N!” Your captain launched himself at you and sent you back to the ground. He wrapped his arms around you threefold, dragging a delirious laugh out of you. “You’re not an icicle!”

“I’m not!” you cried, ruffling his hair. Nami collapsed to her knees beside you and forced Luffy off before nearly choking you in a hug.

“But how?” Robin posed the question even as she sprouted a hand from Nami’s back and gave your cheek a fond pat.

You were only standing for a few moments, your hands tight in Nami’s, when Sanji nearly knocked you and over again as he hugged around your neck. Teetering on your feet, your eyes found Zoro again. Your smile infected him, his lips tugging upward.

Zoro’s face fell abruptly, his hand moving to his sword as he stepped toward you. You turned quickly in Sanji’s arms, his hands sliding off your shoulders. Hans stood close. He stared at your chest, your face, at Zoro. “You…” His brows met in thought, watching how Zoro rose to defend you, how your eyes never left his face very long… and it dawned on him all at once. “He loves you…”

The words seemed to break the moment, your crew casting the swordsman a nervous glance. You did too, wondering if—fearing that everything was going to go back to the way it was. Zoro would say sike and everyone would laugh in your face for ever thinking he would ever—

“Yeah,” Zoro snapped, eyes dark. “So back off.”

You sputtered, cheeks hot. “Zoro!”

But Hans didn’t care about that, his gaze faraway, his feet taking him backward step by step. “Love… I know what to do.” He smiled and darted back to the lump of his brother that was slowly gaining consciousness. “I know!”

“Weirdos,” Luffy decided, his cheek suddenly resting on your shoulder.

You burst into another round of laughter. His cheek was warm against you. Never again, you thought, would you ever take warm things for granted. “Captain, can we get outta here? Since he, uh, knows whatever he knows now?”

The faster you could get in bed, the better. Luffy laughed through his teeth. “Sure! These guys are getting on my nerves.”

Usopp set a solid hand on your shoulder, his waterline glimmering in the light. He fought viciously against a sniffle. “I wasn’t worried. I knew you’d pull through.”

You choked down a laugh and squeezed his hand. “Thank you. Though I do wonder how exactly I’m alive.”

“Who cares?” A gruff voice spoke from your right, Zoro’s face appearing in your peripheral. His shoulder brushed yours tenderly. “You’re alive. Let’s go.”

Luffy threw a fist in the sky and bounded back down the hall. “To the ship!”

You made to run after him when all of a sudden you were airborne, a cackling full sized reindeer swooping under you legs and taking off with your on his back. Your hands flew around his neck with barely stifled screams. “Chopper!”

All he did was giggle and completely ignore your protests on account of very recent “doctors orders” to stay off your feet. You cast a look over your shoulder like a plea for help. Your friends were running after you, some more enthusiastic, most struggling to stay on their feet.

The winter air hit your face as soon as you left the castle, the crunch of Chopper’s hooves on the snow music to your ears. Not far down the mountain Luffy slingshotted himself onto Chopper too, his arms wrapping around your middle and his laugh loud in your ear. The others were yelling for you to slow down now, but Chopper didn’t listen—not till he tripped over a lump of thick snow and sent the three of you tumbling to the bottom of the slope.

You rolled onto your back, chest heaving, heart full. The snow crackled with the running of the crew. Luffy and Chopper’s laughter filled the air. When you opened your eyes, the sun was blocked by Zoro’s broad shoulders. Oh, how the little smile he tried to hide just melted your mind. With a wave of your hand you gestured him closer.

Zoro bent his legs, resting his elbows on his knees in a crouch, angling his head quizically. You twined your index finger through his, loving the little blush rising to his cheeks.

“Did you mean it?” you asked in a short burst of bashfullness.

Though his eyes avoided your own, his finger tightened around yours. A torrent of emotions whirled through his chest as he recalled how vulnerable he’d let himself be. It was dangerous, you were dangerous… but he’d never had a problem flirting with death before. “I meant it.”

Your placed his hand on your cheek. “It’s requited, just so you know.”

Zoro huffed a laugh, tentatively running his thumb over your jaw. “Good.”

“C’mon you guys!” Luffy and the others were already continuing the walk down the mountain.

A flash of mischief flashed through Zoro’s eyes before he grabbed your wrist and hauled you up so quickly your feet left the ground. He steadied you with his hand son your shoulders, his forehead hitting yours as he snickered under his breath, stealing all your breath away.

“You dork,” you muttered, turning on your heel and walking off without him. It wasn’t long before his shoulder brushed your own, his steps in line with yours, his grin matching yours in delirium.

જ ⁀ ➴

It took all night to reach the bottom of the mountain. You could have stopped the night, gotten some rest, but the idea of shot down by everyone instantly. You were all eager to get back to the Merry as fast as possible.

You rubbed at your eyes, yawning as you passed back through the village, headed for the icy docks just as the sun broke the sky.

Chopper tried to convince you to just head below deck instead of helping with the rigging, but you’d assured him with a single smile that “I’ve never felt more alive, Chop. I’ll be fine.”

So he begrudgingly left you alone, keeping an eye on you while you kept an unabashed eye on Zoro. You tied off a rope without ever looking down at it, too busy stealing glances at the swordsman across the deck. He wore that damn smirk on his face, like he knew you were staring even with his back turned. You didn’t really care if he knew, not looking away when he met your gaze and dared to wink at you.

Your whole face went up in flames. This new side of Zoro was sudden and brash like you’d never known before. Your adrenaline spiked simply thinking of this strange new normal your near-death had created. It caught you offguard. Made you nervous. You loved it.

She noticed it as the ship drifted into the harbor.

“No way!” Nami laughed and raced from the helm to the side of the ship. She leaned over and pointed off in the distance. “Look! Look!”

You joined her side and saw it at once. Starting out at the tallest pinetrees towering high in the forest beyond the village, the fallen snow began to rise little by little into the air, collecting in a flurry of ice that soared over the whole valley. From the ship you could see the people leaving their houses and gathering in the streets, their jaws falling as the icicles melted off their buildings and the frost disappeared from the foliage.

The further the ship sailed the more you could take in how the whole island burst to life, the green of the trees fighting through the cold as the ice erupted into speckles of light in the sky. The sunrise illuminated the land basking in summertime for the time in a long while.

“Guess he did know how to fix it,” you said to no one in particular, not very surprised when you turned your head and found Zoro by your side. You could used to having him there, you think.

“Amazing,” he awed. He caught your stare and cleared his throat, cracking his neck and looking anything but nonchalant. He paused a moment, thinking, then, “You… didn’t actually like him, right?”

You laughed right in his face. “Please. He’s not my type.” Your hand ran from his shoulder to his bicep as you looked up through your lashes. Zoro stiffened, blinked fast, and choked on nothing all at once.

“Right, yeah.”

Nami’s face was something between disgust and nausea. “I liked it better when you two fought.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her off absently, eyes zeroed in on Zoro with one goal in mind. You stole his hand and started to drag him away, into the depths of the ship where hopefully, no one would need you for a long time.

Zoro followed without any hesitance, though he did raise a brow as the route to your room became clear. “Uh, what’re we doing?”

You pushed open the door to the girls’ quarters and let loose a heavy sigh. “Sleeping.”

“And I’m here because…”

You shot him the tiniest grin. “Moral support.”

As if he could argue with that. Zoro shook his head fondly, squeezing your hand and taking the lead further into the room. You moved around each other as if you’d done this a hundred times; he turned his back when you changed, you turned when he did. You held up the covers on your mattress with only a small bit of anxiety, paling in comparison to the flush taking over Zoro’s face when he lay down beside you.

You faced each other for one minute before you decided you hated it and rolled over so your back was to his front, a good berth of space between you. Awkwardly, tentatively, Zoro’s hand hovered over your side until he went for it and tugged you agaisnt his chest. Instantly, warmth covered you. You grabbed his hand and held it to your chest, memorizing this feeling so you’d never forget.

Sleep found you quickly, fatigue weighing down, Zoro’s mere presence lulling you into a dream you didn’t remember in the morning, only knowing that, as you rolled over to fin him already awake, the dream was filled with nothing but warm thoughts of the sea, the crew, and Zoro.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @100520s @kryscent @kultofkorii @dreamcastgirl99

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kyllium · 15 days ago

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congrats on 3k!!!! Can I request Sanji Vinsmoke with "Oh can you feel this?" and "I can never seem to get enough of you"

SANJI SANJI SANJI SANJI SANDIEDJKDJK AAAAAAAA thank you for making me write more about this prettiest boy ever i love him SO MUCH I WANNA WRITE MORE ABOUT HIM EUEGBEJDDAAAAAAAAAAAAA SANJI SANJI EUGHEUH

ೃ⁀➷ TW/CW: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS/AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DON’T INTERACT), Bad English, GN Reader (no body description and pronouns), Dom Character, Soft Dom, It's more so Desperate Dom once again, Gloved Fingers, Teasing, Fingering, Bit of French (and bad), So Nickname (ma chérie, ma belle, my love), You whipped Sanji as it should be, let me know if I need to add more TW/Tags ♡ My blog contains dark content, be careful when interacting/following! Please if you like my work don't forget to reblog/interact with me♡ Minors, ageless, blank blogs, and silent readers will get blocked if interact with me. ➳ Pair: Sanji Vinsmoke x Reader (One Piece)

⤠ Leona Kingscholar, Tooru Oikawa, Satoru Gojo + “My tongue still remembers the way you taste” ⤟ OP Masterlist & Event Rules ⤠ None ⤟

III - 4. “Oh can you feel this?” III - 2. “I can never seem to get enough of you”

Something you loved doing was teasing Sanji, waiting to see his breaking point because he’s so nice, so gentle, so careful with you... You wanted, no, needed to know where and how he breaks.

So you started with your little innocent teasing game: letting your hands wonder all over his thighs and chest, creating little circles while talking and looking down all seductively, endless innuendos about stuff you could do, batting your eyelashes at him with the prettiest doll eye you can manage, softly and carefully passing by letting your butt touch his crotch, wearing clothes you know he loves and screams over, everything you could think of you have done it. And it’s been so much fun.

For you. Not so much for Sanji.

You could tell how much this situation was both the worst and the best for Sanji; he had you looking the prettiest he could ever ask for, but he couldn’t do anything about since you were always storming off whatever he tried to get the situation more intimate. Sanji would never do something without your explicit consent. He hated and loved how easy it was for you to get his dick hard and twitching, but he loved your dedication and attention you put into this little game you had started, even if it was bad for him being hard 24/7. You will never catch him complain about it, never.

Enough was enough though, and the game is fun until it’s short and innocent. So, he has an idea.

When you are passing by, slightly poke him with your ass against his dick, he puts his hands around your waist and pushes you, rougher than he intended, against the kitchen counter, making you squeal in surprise.

“Did you have your fun, ma chérie?” Sanji murmurs with his hot steamy boy, breath against your ear and you smirk when you feel his hard cock against your ass, knowing you did it and you made him finally break like you wanted him to.

“Oh can you feel this? How much I need you, how much hard you made me?” he says, rubbing his clothed cock against you, his hand going to take off your clothes just enough to see what he needed so desperately.

And he can already feel himself salivating at the mere sight- but no. He must be stronger. After all the hell you put him through, do you deserve it? No. If you look at him with sad, teary eyes, though... He knows he will break...

Sanji pushes a finger in, watching you let out a moan, and slowly starts thrusting in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot time and time again, but never let you enjoy it too much, torturing you like you did with him. You look at him with teary eyes and a pout, so innocent, so cute. His dick twitch with need and want, and Sanji already knows that you have won. How can he say no to you? Being mean to you? He can't, he really can't.

“Sorry Sanji... I just wanted to have some fun... I‘m sorry, please Sanji... I was just teasing, please...” how can he say no to you when you look and say sorry like that? Sanji may be too soft on you, but he can’t help himself when it's about you. He frees his cock from his pants and boxers and rubs it against you before pushing it inside of your hole, moaning when your warm gummy walls embrace his dick.

“You always feel fantastic around me my love...” Sanji says before starting thrusting in and out of you with a deep but slow pace, making sure you feel every inch, every vein, of his cock inside of you. Until he has enough, he had to fuck you after fucking his first for days so he needs to fuck you and he needs it now, so he goes faster and faster, making all wet and nasty sounds coming from you two echoing across the room.

You bit your lip, trying to keep low your moans since the mess you two were making, but you never felt so good. Was it because of the intense teasing? Because of how much you have waited this for days now? You don’t know, you don’t really care about it right now cause you already so goddamn close to cumming. Your legs are shaking, your knot in your stomach feels tighter and tighter, moans coming out louder, you are drooling, and little pleas of “yes!” “there please!” “i’m so close Sanji please” are all you can say.

“My love, if you keep moaning like that I won’t be able to... F-fuck!” Sanji forces two gloved fingers inside your mouth to suck them, making you more silent. His thrusts become erratic and way too fast, following his own incoming orgasm.

And when you cum so does he, painting your walls white and biting your shoulder to muffle his moans, while you almost choke on his fingers pushing further against you. You both stay like this for a while, enjoy each other warmth and closeness, taking time to breathe and relax. But you notice something.

He is still hard as he was before. Maybe even harder somehow.

“Sanji...?” you ask, looking at him tired and sweaty “Wasn’t that enough?“ at your question he shakes his head, kissing your cheek gently with a soft smile, eye full of love and lust.

“I can never seem to get enough of you ma belle, you are my favourite meal after all.”

This work belongs to @/alj0saray, do not repost, translate, copy, rewrite, use for AI or share on TikTok without my permission. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged♡ MDNI banners @/cafekitsune (found here) Warnings banner me!⸜(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)⸝

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kyllium · 15 days ago

Text

don’t worry darling | vinsmoke sanji x fem!reader

sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second...

word count: 2.6k

cw/tags: afab/fem!reader, housewife!sanji, established relationship, high school sweethearts, mature language, modern!au, fluff, porn with a lil plot, cunnilingus, slight suffocation (it's okay he likes it), use of pet names ("darling", "sweetheart", etc.), and other crazy shit i probably forgot to mention, MDNI pls!!!

if you're unfamiliar with frankie avalon's 'venus', you can find the song here!

frustration throbbed beneath the soft skin of your temples, vessels threatening to pop under the weight of your irritation. countless hours spent at your stuffy office job called for silent drives home with the windows down, the cool summer breeze drowning out the musty scent that stuck to your clothes.

the warm kitchen light illuminated the red brick of the windowsill as you pulled into the driveway. the hum of a soulful tune spills from the window, Etta James' voice synchronizing with the longing beat of your heart. polished glass slightly ajar graced you with a glimpse into your own loving home, the home you shared with you husband. your eyes landed on the sight of your husband's well-dressed back, cigarette in hand as he swayed along to the tune. you instantly recognized the maroon dress shirt that clung to his sculpted frame, a piece of his expansive wardrobe he knew was one of your favorites. his gaze was focused on the sizzling pan before him, tossing its contents gently as he took a long drag. it was small acts of service like these that made your heart swell, traces of harsh footsteps washed away from the shore of your mind.

slipping off your work shoes, Sanji's firm hands snake around your waist, pulling you into a deep kiss. your head swims as he dives into you, teeth brushing together as you smile. the smell of spice and nicotine floods your senses, a familiar warmth pooling deep in your stomach.

"hello, my love," Sanji greets tenderly, palm rubbing soothing circles on the small of your back. "how was work today?"

"long," you sighed, shrugging off your coat. "how was your day? i smell something cooking."

Sanji chuckles at the sight of your nose switching upwards, inhaling the savory aroma of meat and starches. "mine was just fine, dear. i've been prepping dinner all day — it's your favorite! grilled chicken with garlic potatoes and veggies, just the way you like it."

the thought of the delicious meal made your stomach grumble, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Sanji's raspy laughter filled the silence as he brought you close to his chest, his thrumming heart filling your ears. the beat synchronized with the introduction to Frankie Avalon's 'Venus,' your coupled bodies swaying to the soft melody. a thick, sultry hum vibrates against your temple as Sanji begins to sing along:

"Venus, goddess of love that you areee," he drawled, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "surely the things i ask, can't be too great a task.."

overwhelming gratitude filled your chest as you whisked away in the foyer of your home, the home you shared with Sanji. he was the man of your dreams, often staying home to tend to housework while you provided for your growing family. when you first started dating, he offered to work for the rest of your life if it meant that you would never have to worry ever again. your high school sweetheart was always overly ambitious, constantly feeling the need to reassure him that wouldn't be necessary. despite always complaining about your nosey coworkers, you enjoyed working as it gave you a stable routine amidst the chaos of your life. Sanji was another grounding force that kept you afloat, a factor in your life that you knew would remain constant. his place in your heart was set in stone, an immovable force that no disaster could shake.

you crane your neck upwards to meet his soothing gaze, using the palm of your hand to gently cup his cheek. scratchy stubble of a clean shaven face grazed your soft skin, the pads of your thumb tracing the wear of his under eyes. Sanji sacrifices his time at the restaurant for you, cutting down his hours so that you can come home to a clean house with a fresh meal decorating the dining table. sheltered in the haze of cigarette smoke and you are Sanji's favorite evenings. but it would be a lie to say that you don't worry about your husband's wellbeing. worried that he prioritizes your needs over his own.

"you know you don't have to do this, sweetheart. i'm perfectly fine with coming home to take-out and a movie date on the couch. i'm worried you're stretching yourself thin for my sake," you said shyly, sympathetic.

Sanji took your hand in his, bringing the back of it to his lips as he pressed a gentle kiss, "I'm fine, [y/n]. i promise you that everything i do, i do out of free will. now let me take care of you by feeding you—"

overcome with emotion and desire for your husband, you crash your lips into his, cutting his sentence short. your firm grasp on the nape of his warm neck guided him into you, Sanji matching your pace with practiced ease. the kiss began tenderly, spoke a language no words in the English language could proclaim. but with the kind of day you've had, you craved more and more of his delicate touch. you wanted to make up for all the lost time you spent wasting away in that dusty office while your husband worked, busying himself as he patiently awaited your arrival.

small nibbles and desperate pulls of velvety skin intensified your need, a fervid heat beginning to pool between your thighs. Sanji's strong hands worked at your waist, tugging your hips into his, now painfully aware of the clothing that separated the two of you. "off" was the word tattooed to the forefront of your mind, the power it held in what it meant drove you to a euphoric high as you pressed yourself further into him. as if you couldn't feel more alive, Sanji hoisted you up into the air, wrapping your legs around his waist as he moved with purpose. you gasped in shocked pleasure at the height, staring into his deep blue eyes before colliding once again. you had no idea where he was taking you, but it didn't matter. all you knew was that you needed him. and you needed him now. hell, he could take you right here on the floor if he really wanted to, ruining the pristine condition he worked to maintain throughout the day.

to your surprise, a firm surface clashes with the soft plush of your ass, Sanji using it as an instrument to aid your pleasure. his gentle hand is now rested under your knee, spreading your thighs ever-so-slightly to claim his spot between them. the thick hard-on beneath his dark slacks grazes your aching core with every dip and thrust. your hips buck mindlessly, chasing that sensation as you grow increasingly more wet under his touch. the taut material of your work pants begin to prickle your legs, your arousal bleeding into a feverish sweat. off.

"off, Sanji," you whimpered, eyes half lidded as you tugged at your waistband. "take these off."

Sanji, never one to deny your request, began to fiddle with the metallic loops and buckles of your pants. his hot mouth lowered down to your neck as he peeled the pants clean off. the snap of the loud fabric pulled your mouth into a naughty smirk, planting your feet on the tabletop as you raised your knees to your chest. the sight of your sopping panties now on full display to the rest of your house, the ghosts of warm memories swimming around you as you drink in the sight of the blond man under you. a raspy moan escaped from your lips as Sanji tugged the supple skin of your neck with his teeth, hungrily satisfying your flesh as his hands wandered down to your hips.

his slender fingers hooked under the thin elastic of your panties, the pastel pink fabric darkened with your arousal. you lifted your hips into him once more, inviting him to pull them off and take you. Sanji has always been fluent in your body's language, taking your wordless request into consideration as he obeyed your command. the room's stuffy draft drifted cooly over the heat rising from your core, the sensation urging your craving to be touched. you craned your neck back, raking your fingers through messy blonde waves as you gave Sanji full access to the expansive plane of skin. his lips surged into yours as his fingers trailed softly between your folds, your slick painting his fingertips. his teasing touch caused you to moan against his ear, the absence of necessary friction driving you crazy.

"touch me harder," you pleaded, writhing your hips into his touch.

Sanji pulled his fingers away instantly, earning an irritated groan from you. his hands caressed the supple skin around your pulsing cunt, gently massaging circles to ease your tensing muscles below.

"shhh, it's okay sweetheart. we have time," Sanji hushed gently, one of his palms cupping your cheek.

leaning into his touch, you huffed and shuddered under his intense gaze. your cheeks flushed a fierce pink as your bottom half lay open and exposed, his own growing erection dangerously close to your cunt. his thumb brushed your bottom lip lightly, the slick of your saliva gliding it effortlessly into your mouth. your tongue hollowed as you tasted his finger, twisting and sucking it further down your throat. the smell of smoke and ash intoxicating as you tasted his fingertips, growing envious of the addiction he spends so much time satisfying. you never broke eye contact as you did so, watching his resolve crumble with every swipe and stroke. completely mesmerized by the way your head bobbed around his finger, Sanji dove further, earning a sweet gag out of you.

"will you fuck me now?" you asked around his finger, tone thick and full with arousal. your fingers worked on the buttons of your shirt, undoing them agonizingly slow to reveal your breasts.

Sanji's touch trembled slightly at your words, impatience and lust getting the better of him. a gruff laugh spilled from his own soaked lips, a result of his tongue subconsciously mirroring the way you worked him into your mouth. "yes, darling" was all he could muster under the strain of his arousal, his pants growing tighter with each passing second.

his slick thumb trailed down your exposed middle, each pass igniting a flame as he inched closer and closer to your needy pussy. you watched breathlessly as he met your core, his finger tracing lazy circles over your swollen clit. every rub sent jolts of electricity deep into your stomach, muscles beginning to constrict as your orgasm builds. Sanji's hand found its way into your bra, kneading the plush skin of your breast as he stimulated you below. the attention drove you wild, your breath hitching in your throat as it grew unbearable. you needed him inside you, needed him to brutally attack that gummy spot that sent you reeling.

Sanji lowered himself between your thighs, his warm breath ghosting over your drooling cunt. he exhaled a satisfied groan as he slid a finger inside, twisting and hooking to tease your g-spot.

"so needy," he purred, placing a tender kiss on your puffy clit. you flinched from the contact, rocking your hips into his rhythm as he eased in a second finger. "its hard to believe you could work in these conditions, my love. you're so tense! use me, baby. use me to let go and relief yourself."

a whiny, pitchy moan dragged out from your lips, throwing your head back as he pumped ferociously inside of you. Sanji's tongue teased and suckled at your flesh simultaneously, lapping up your sweet nectar as you slowly released around his hold. just as your thighs began to tremble and twitch, Sanji removed his fingers, your cunt pulsing frantically in their absence. it wasn't long before he dove back in, replacing his hands with his wild tongue. you writhed as he pried your thighs apart, his firm grasp trying its best to keep you in place. your back hit the thin linen sheet that draped over the dining table, fisting the fabric as you rode your high.

lewd sounds of your slick lapping against his tongue mingled with the clang of rattling silverware, a melody of desperate moans joining the symphony. your hands found their way into his honey-blonde hair once again, Sanji's scalp stinging as you tugged.

"fuck Sanji! right there! don't stop i'm close.." you cried out, eyes watering as you shut them tightly. the moans escaping you were deafening, the old wood beneath you vibrating. you could feel Sanji smiling into you, his lips curling into a smirk as he continued to ravage you.

your neck snapped upwards, chin pressed against your chest as you watched your husband eat you out. the sight alone was enough to make you come — his dark lashes resting softly against his rosy cheeks, the slick of your arousal soaking his face and shirt. you made a mental note to handle his laundry for the next few days, tending to the stain before it could ruin the delicate fabric.

with every buck and roll of your hips, Sanji began to whine into your core, his erection growing painful under the confines of his pants. but he was determined to make you finish right into his mouth. the taste of you was intoxicating, a flavor Sanji never wished to forget. he could devour you for every meal for the rest of his life and not once would he go hungry. you satisfied him, in sex, in love, in life. you were the one, tinkered to perfection just for him.

"come for me, sweetheart" Sanji begged, his fingers sliding into you once more, beckoning for your sweet release. the rhythmic pump and curl of his fingers sending you right over the edge.

your grip on his hair tightened as you brought him into you, his lips suctioning around your aching cunt as he drank you in. in the heat of your orgasm, you cleared the table entirely as you grabbed at anything to stabilize your convulsing body. a cacophony of clattering silverware and shattering ceramic filled the room, then world around you crumbling along with your resolve.

"yes! yes! yes! oh my god—" you exclaimed, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you clamped your thighs around Sanji's head. the force of your skin into his temples was enough to make his ears ring, a dull pain lingering under your touch. but none of that mattered. the temporary pain Sanji felt in this moment could never amount to the irritation you endured every day away from home. he would do anything to relieve you of that burden, and if suffocating him between your thighs was the way to go, he would do it a thousand times over.

the crippling realization of your actions snapped you out of your euphoria, rising to sit up as you took in the sight around you. shards of white ceramic dishes scattered across the floor, your now-dirty silverware accompanying the mess. you brought your hands to your face, hiding it out of shame.

"i'm so sorry, love. i'll clean it up," you apologized, scooting off the table. a soft hand on your shoulder stops you, Sanji's gaze a mixture of gratitude and sincerity.

"don't even worry about it," he began, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. "go wash up and i'll have this all cleaned up by the time you're back!"

you sighed, relieved that after all the work he's been through today, Sanji was still willing to help you. "what did i do to deserve such a loving husband?"

Sanji smiled softly, using his free hand to push the wild strands of hair out of your face. "i've been hooked on you since the day i met you, [y/n]. all you had to do was be yourself."

sanji has worked his way into my heart and i cannot shake this beautiful man i adore him with my entire being

and yes, this inspired by that one scene from ‘don’t worry darling’. it was a calling and who am i to turn down divine intervention?

313 notes · View notes

kyllium · 17 days ago

Note

hello:)I got an idea!!

Zoro x reader: zoro and reader used to be tgt but broke up(mutual?) a long time ago, somehow the straw hats recruited a new member(reader) while zoro was asleep during the whole situation

Maybe there’s prob still some romantic tension between them? I think the both of them would somehow act like an old married couple lol

A Fimilar Horizan

Zoro x f!reader

Words: 11,409

Warnings: implied sexual content, violence/injury, heartbreak, language, abandonment themes, use of y/n.

★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★ ⁭

The relentless sun of the New World beat down on your skin, a familiar warmth you'd known your entire life on this small, unassuming island. Salt-laced wind, an extension of your very will thanks to the Kaze Kaze no Mi, whipped strands of your hair across your face as you executed a flawless parry, the air around your blade singing with controlled power. Every muscle in your body, honed over years of rigorous training, screamed with a joyful ache. You were strong, undeniably so, a force to be reckoned with. Your mastery of the sword, combined with the unparalleled manipulation of air, made you a whirlwind of precision and raw power.

You’d seen your fair share of the world, too. From the icy peaks of Drum Island to the vibrant chaos of Water 7, your travels had been extensive. But it was the relatively calmer, bluer waters of the East Blue that held a particular memory. That's where you'd first heard the whispers, then the shouts, of the "Pirate Hunter" Roronoa Zoro. They called him a demon, a ruthless force of nature who cut down his bounties without a second thought. The rumors painted a grim picture, a man made of pure, unadulterated menace.

Curiosity, and perhaps a touch of stubborn defiance, led you to him. And what you found was… unexpected. The man who wielded three swords with such terrifying skill wasn't the monster the tabloids made him out to be. Beneath the hardened exterior, there was a quiet intensity, a fierce dedication to his own path. He was gruff, yes, and prone to getting lost, but there was a flicker of something more, something genuine, in his eyes. You found yourselves spending hours together, sparring under the watchful sun, sharing tales of your travels, and even indulging in the occasional sake. The supposed "demon" was far less demonic than advertised, and a lot easier to talk to than you ever imagined. As the days blurred into weeks, the initial camaraderie deepened, a silent understanding passing between you two. The distance between you, both physical and emotional, began to close…

And then, without either of you really planning it, it just clicked. That silent understanding blossomed into something far deeper, a love that felt as natural and powerful as the ocean itself.

A Quiet Evening, A Lasting Memory

The memory of your first proper date with Zoro was etched into your mind, a stark contrast to the usual chaos of the East Blue. He'd somehow, miraculously, managed to navigate you both to a secluded cove on an uninhabited island, the kind of place you only dreamed of finding. The sun, a lazy artist, painted the sky in hues of fiery orange and soft lavender as it dipped below the horizon. You sat on the warm sand, the gentle lapping of waves against the shore the only sound besides your quiet conversation. He’d surprised you with a bottle of fine sake he'd "acquired," and you'd simply talked, sharing stories from your pasts that you’d never told anyone else. The air was thick with unspoken feelings, a comfortable silence settling between you as the stars began to pepper the darkening sky. He wasn’t looking at the stars though; his gaze, warm and steady, was fixed solely on you, and in that moment, under the vast, uncaring sky, you felt completely seen, utterly cherished.

A Kiss in the Rain

Another memory, equally vivid, was the rain-soaked kiss. A sudden downpour had caught you both off guard in a bustling port town. You’d ducked under the meager shelter of an awning, laughing as the streets turned into shimmering rivers. The world around you had dissolved into a watery blur, the sounds of the port muted by the drumming rain. You turned to him, your hair plastered to your face, and he was already looking at you, a soft, unreadable expression in his eyes. He reached out, his calloused thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw, and then he leaned in. The kiss was slow, deliberate, tasting of rain and something infinitely sweeter. It was the kind of kiss you saw in old movies, the kind that steals your breath and makes your heart ache with a beautiful intensity. The rain poured around you, but all you felt was the warmth of his lips, the solid press of his body against yours, and the undeniable truth of your feelings.

A Shared Intimacy

And then there were the nights, whispered secrets and shared intimacies that transcended words. The memory of his hands on your skin, the brush of his bare chest against yours, still sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t just physical; it was a profound connection, a merging of two souls who found solace and passion in each other’s arms. The world outside those moments faded away, leaving only the two of you, entwined in a dance of desire and tenderness. Kisses that started soft and grew increasingly heated, a breathless exploration of each other's bodies, the feeling of skin against skin, the quiet sighs and gasps that filled the air. It was raw, honest, and utterly beautiful. You loved him, with a fierce, unwavering devotion that had grown from shared laughter, quiet understanding, and undeniable passion.

You loved him. Truly, deeply, with a love that had taken root in your very soul. But even the strongest love isn't immune to the relentless tide of conflict. No matter how fiercely you cared for each other, the arguments never stopped. They were like a constant, insidious current, pulling at the foundations of your relationship, leaving you both emotionally bruised and raw.

The Unspoken Future

One of the most gut-wrenching fights began innocently enough, a quiet evening that splintered into chaos. You’d been watching the sunset, the kind of breathtaking display that always made you yearn for new horizons.

"You know," you’d said softly, "I've been thinking. It's been a while since I've really moved around. Maybe it's time to head to another island, see what else is out there."

Zoro had tensed beside you, his usual relaxed posture stiffening. "What are you talking about? We're fine here."

"I know we're fine," you'd countered, trying to keep your voice even. "But I've always traveled, Zoro. It's in my nature. I'm not saying I'd leave you behind. I'm saying… maybe we could go together."

His head snapped towards you, his eyes narrowed, a familiar storm brewing within them. "Together? You just want to uproot everything again. You're never satisfied, are you? Always looking for the next thing, the next place. Is this island not enough for you? Am I not enough?"

The words stung, lashing out with an unfairness that made your own anger flare. "That's not fair! This isn't about you not being enough! It's about who I am! I explore, I move! You know that about me! And I thought… I thought maybe you’d want to explore with me for once, instead of just staying put and waiting for the next fight to come to you!" The last part had been venomous, born of frustration and hurt, and as soon as it left your lips, you wanted to snatch it back. But it was too late. The damage was done.

Reckless Abandon

Another argument, still vivid in its ugliness, revolved around his reckless nature. You’d heard whispers of a particularly dangerous pirate crew lurking on a nearby island, known for their brutality. You’d urged caution, suggested a plan, but Zoro, true to form, had just charged in headfirst.

"You're unbelievable, Zoro!" you’d screamed at him later, tending to a deep gash on his arm, your hands shaking with a mixture of fear and rage. "You just rushed in there without a thought! What if I hadn't been there? What if you'd been killed? Do you ever stop to think about the consequences of your actions, not just for yourself, but for… for us?"

He’d grunted, wincing as you cleaned the wound. "I can handle myself. You should know that by now."

"That's not the point!" you’d retorted, tears of frustration pricking your eyes. "The point is, you take unnecessary risks! It's not about being strong enough, it's about being smart enough to know when to think, when to plan! You act like you're invincible, but you're not! And I'm tired of constantly worrying that one day, your impulsiveness is going to get you killed!" The accusation hung heavy in the air, a bitter truth that neither of you wanted to acknowledge.

A Clash of Ideals

Then there was the night the core of your ideals clashed, a fundamental difference in how you saw the world. You’d stumbled upon a group of villagers being extorted by a petty pirate crew, and your immediate instinct was to intervene, to use your strength to protect the innocent. Zoro, however, had hesitated.

"They're not our problem," he'd muttered, his hand resting on the hilt of Wado Ichimonji, but not drawing it. "We stick to our own business."

"Our own business?" you’d echoed, incredulous. "Zoro, they're being brutalized! How can you just stand there and do nothing when you have the power to help?"

"It's not our fight," he repeated, his voice flat. "Interfering in every petty dispute will just get us bogged down. There are always people like that. We can't save everyone."

"But we can save these people!" you’d cried, the injustice burning within you. "What's the point of having this strength, Zoro, if you're not willing to use it to protect those who can't protect themselves? Is your ambition all that matters? Is that why you became a swordsman, just for yourself?"

The silence that followed was deafening, more cutting than any shouted word. His face was a mask of stone, and you knew you’d struck a nerve, hit a raw spot that he guarded fiercely. The chasm between your perspectives felt impossibly wide, a stark reminder that even when you loved someone, you didn’t always see eye to eye on the most fundamental things.

You loved him. And he, in his own guarded way, loved you. But the constant arguments, the relentless clashing of wills and ideals, had done their irreversible damage. They were insidious, chipping away at the foundation of your love, tearing at your heart – the one you wore openly on your sleeve, and his, so fiercely hidden beneath layers of stoicism. This… it had ruined you both.

The Breaking Point

The end came, not with a bang, but with the quiet, suffocating finality of a drawn-out battle. It was late, the moon a sliver in the sky, casting long, distorted shadows across the small living space you shared. The argument had started over something trivial, a misunderstanding about a shared chore, but it quickly spiraled, each word a venom-tipped arrow aimed at old wounds.

"You're impossible to live with!" you’d finally exploded, your voice hoarse from shouting, tears streaming down your face. "You just… you just shut down! You bottle everything up until it explodes, and then you act like I'm the one overreacting!"

Zoro stood across from you, his arms crossed, jaw tight. His eyes, usually so intense, were dulled, a weariness settling in them that you hadn't seen before. "And you," he’d retorted, his voice low but sharp, "you're always looking for a fight. Always pushing, always wanting more, never content with what we have."

"Content?" you'd scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping you. "How can I be content when it feels like we're constantly at war? When every conversation turns into a battle? When I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells around you, trying not to set off the next explosion?!"

The silence that followed was heavy, punctuated only by your ragged breathing. You watched him, your heart aching, waiting for him to fight back, to defend himself, to do anything but stand there like a stone statue. But he didn’t.

Then, he finally spoke. His voice was devoid of emotion, a flat, chilling tone that cut deeper than any shout. "Maybe… maybe this just isn't working."

Your breath hitched. "What are you talking about?" you whispered, dread coiling in your stomach.

He met your gaze, his eyes holding a profound sadness that mirrored your own. "I'm talking about us. This… this isn't good for either of us anymore. We just keep hurting each other." He paused, and then the words that shattered your world tumbled out. "I think we shouldn't be together anymore."

The air left your lungs. You wanted to scream, to rage, to tell him he was wrong, that you could fix this, that you loved him, that he was your world. Every fiber of your being screamed for you to argue, to fight for the love you shared. But as you looked at him, truly looked at the defeated slump of his shoulders, the exhaustion etched into his features, you knew it was true. The arguments, the hurt, the endless cycle of damage… it had finally broken you both. And as much as you wanted to deny it, as much as you wanted to fight, you couldn't. The battle was over. And you had both lost.

You stared at him, the silence stretching taut between you, thin and fragile as glass. Every instinct screamed to fight, to claw back the love that was slipping away. But looking at him, truly seeing the defeat in his eyes, you knew it was over. The arguments had carved too deep, leaving an irreparable chasm. A single, choked sound escaped your throat, a silent sob, before you found your voice.

"Okay," you rasped, the word tearing at your vocal cords. It was barely a whisper, yet it echoed in the cavernous space between you. "Okay, Zoro. If… if that's what you want."

You didn't need to say any more. The understanding, the quiet, devastating agreement, hung heavy in the air. He nodded slowly, a ghost of a movement. He turned then, walking past you to the living room, the familiar creak of the old couch signaling where he would spend the night.

You stumbled into the bedroom, the world feeling suddenly off-kilter, devoid of color. The bed, once a sanctuary of shared warmth and comfort, now felt vast and cold. Sleep was a distant, cruel joke. You lay there, rigid, listening to the agonizing silence from the other room, each minute a tiny eternity.

The first rays of dawn, weak and hesitant, filtered through the window. You didn't remember falling asleep, only the dull ache behind your eyes and the hollow emptiness in your chest. A sudden, unsettling quiet permeated the apartment. The usual morning sounds — the clink of a cup, the rustle of clothes, the subtle hum of his presence — were absent.

A cold dread washed over you. You swung your legs out of bed, your movements stiff and mechanical, and walked into the living room. It was empty. The worn cushions of the couch were flattened, a faint indentation where he'd been, but nothing else. His swords, usually propped against the wall, were gone. The small pile of travel gear he always kept ready by the door? Vanished. Even the chipped mug he always used for his morning tea was nowhere to be found.

He was gone. Without a word, without a goodbye, he had simply… left. The finality of it hit you with the force of a physical blow, stealing the air from your lungs. There was just an empty space where he used to be, a gaping void that screamed of absence.

For weeks, you didn't cry. The tears simply wouldn't come, as if your grief was a physical block in your throat, choking off any outward expression. The bed, once a shared sanctuary, was now a painful monument to what was lost. You couldn't bear to sleep in it, opting instead for the uncomfortable, silent rebellion of the living room couch. Each night was a battle against the hollow ache in your chest, a desperate attempt to outrun the phantom presence of him.

After a few agonizing days, the stillness became unbearable. The island, your home, now felt like a cage, suffocating you with memories. The only way to breathe, you realized, was to go back to what you knew, to the life you'd carved out before your world became intertwined with his. With a grim resolve, you began to pack. Each item of clothing, each carefully coiled rope, each polished blade you tucked away felt like a step back towards yourself, a painful reclamation of your own identity.

You left the island with the dawn, the silhouette of your former home shrinking in the distance, a silent testament to a love that had bloomed and then withered. The sea wind, once a playful companion, now felt like a lonely whisper. You fought, you explored, you sailed across churning seas and visited bustling port towns, each fight a temporary distraction, each new horizon a fleeting sense of escape. You pushed yourself harder than ever, your Kaze Kaze no Mi abilities a raw expression of your inner turmoil, the air around you a tempest mirroring the storm within. You carved a path through the New World, a blur of motion and combat, until, inevitably, the currents of your own history pulled you back. Back to your hometown, the small, unassuming island that had always been your anchor, now just a place where memories haunted every familiar corner.

The years bled into one another, a quiet, solitary existence marked only by the changing seasons. One year, then two, slid by, and the silence from the outside world remained unbroken. No news of Zoro, no whispers of his exploits, no word from anyone you'd once known. You'd consciously, meticulously, cut yourself off. Your small cabin, nestled deep within the whispering embrace of the forest on your home island, became your sanctuary, a haven from the pain of connection.

It was a lonely life, undeniably so. The quiet companionship of the rustling leaves and the distant murmur of the sea were your only constant companions. Yet, surprisingly, unhappiness wasn't a pervasive shadow. There was a stoic acceptance, a deep-seated peace that came from living entirely on your own terms.

Did you think about Zoro? Yes, sometimes. A particular sunset would paint the sky in hues that reminded you of his favorite sake, or the scent of rain on the forest floor would bring back the memory of his lips on yours. He was a ghost in the periphery of your thoughts, a bittersweet ache that would surface, then recede. But hate? Never. The thought was alien. He was your person, your soulmate, a bond forged in fire and tears that transcended mere circumstance. The love, though dormant, was still there, a quiet ember glowing in the depths of your heart.

Today had begun like countless others. You woke before the sun, the predawn chill a familiar kiss on your skin. Your morning hunt was successful, ensuring a week's worth of meals, and you returned to your cabin, the forest already awakening around you. After hanging the game, you moved to the woodpile, your sword whistling through the air as you expertly chopped logs, the rhythm of the work a meditative hum. Then, as you began your daily training, the world shifted.

A distant tremor, a dull thud that vibrated through the earth beneath your feet, followed by a series of colossal cracks and groans that echoed through the otherwise silent forest. A few miles away, several trees, massive ancient sentinels, were being violently toppled.

You froze, your sword still mid-swing, the wind you controlled momentarily forgotten. This wasn't a storm, and it certainly wasn't a lumberjack. The sheer force implied was immense, far beyond anything natural, and it was happening on your island, in your quiet solitude. A flash of irritation, a spike of territorial defiance, shot through you. Who dared disturb your peace? Who possessed the strength to fell trees with such wanton destruction?

Your mind raced, sifting through possibilities. A rogue Giant? A Devil Fruit user with immense destructive power? Or worse… pirates? The thought of your serene haven being disturbed, potentially threatened, ignited a cold, focused anger within you. Without a second thought, you sheathed your sword, the familiar weight of it a reassuring presence at your hip. You took a deep breath, the Kaze Kaze no Mi activating, drawing in the air around you, ready to push off. Whatever, or whoever, it was, they were about to meet the island’s most formidable guardian.

You moved through the forest, a phantom in the trees, your senses sharp, the Kaze Kaze no Mi subtly enhancing your agility. Your sword was in your hand, its familiar weight a cold comfort, ready to parry, to strike, to unleash the raw power of the wind if anything dared to challenge you. Each snapped twig, each rustle of leaves, was scrutinized, your guard up, every fiber of your being coiled for an attack.

As you neared the site, the air grew still, the destructive sounds replaced by an eerie silence. The sight that greeted you was one of utter devastation: a swathe of ancient trees ripped from the earth, their roots exposed to the sky, their mighty trunks splintered and broken. But amidst the wreckage, there was no raging beast, no towering giant, no pirate crew.

Instead, a lone figure lay sprawled on the churned earth, utterly unconscious. A young man, barely more than a boy, with a distinctive straw hat resting beside his head and a red, open shirt revealing a broad chest crisscrossed with a large, unmistakable X-shaped scar. His body was a roadmap of recent skirmishes, a testament to a brutal fight, covered in numerous lighter scars and fresh, shallow cuts. He was battered, but alive. It was Luffy, the Straw Hat captain, though you didn't know his name then.

Your initial surge of readiness to fight dissolved, replaced by a flicker of something else. This wasn't a threat; this was someone in desperate need. Despite your years of self-imposed isolation, despite the hardened shell you'd built around your heart, a primal instinct to help, to heal, stirred within you. Lowering your sword, you moved towards him, a silent, powerful presence in the shattered clearing. You knelt, gently assessing his injuries, then with a sigh that carried a surprising amount of tenderness, you carefully hoisted the surprisingly light young man onto your shoulder. Your cabin, your sanctuary, would now become a temporary infirmary.

You carried the unconscious boy back to your cabin, the silence of the forest closing in around you once more. Gently, you laid him on your bed, the soft furs a stark contrast to the rough earth where you’d found him. You moved with practiced efficiency, gathering clean cloths, fresh water, and the various salves and bandages you kept for your own occasional injuries.

His wounds were numerous but mostly superficial, a testament to his resilience. You cleaned the grime and blood from his skin, carefully bandaging the deeper cuts. The large 'X' scar on his chest was fully healed, a testament to past, more severe battles. As you worked, your fingers brushed against his warm skin, and you noted the surprisingly strong pulse thrumming beneath your touch. Despite his unconscious state, there was an undeniable vitality about him.

Once he was patched up, looking far less battered than when you’d found him, you retreated. You pulled a sturdy wooden chair to the far corner of the room, positioning it so you had a clear view of the bed. Your sword, still drawn, rested across your lap, its cold steel a familiar comfort. You wouldn't let your guard down. Even though he seemed harmless now, you were in the New World, and trust was a luxury you hadn't afforded yourself in years. You watched him, your gaze unwavering, tracking the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest. Each breath was a silent beat in the quiet cabin, a reminder of the unexpected life you had just brought into your solitary world.

Hours passed, marked only by the shifting shadows and the quiet rhythm of the unconscious boy's breathing. Then, as the last vestiges of twilight faded and the cabin was bathed in the soft glow of the moon, his eyelids fluttered. You tensed, your grip on your sword tightening, bracing for the expected reaction: fear, confusion, perhaps even a burst of rage or a wild, unhinged rampage. After all, he was a stranger, wounded, in a strange place, and you were a silent, armed figure watching him.

What you didn't expect, however, was this.

His eyes, dark and intelligent, opened slowly, blinking a few times. He didn't flinch, didn't panic. Instead, a massive, unhurried yawn stretched his jaw wide. He then turned his head, his gaze settling directly on you. A wide, unburdened smile spread across his lips, utterly devoid of malice or suspicion.

"Hey! You got any meat?" he blurted out, his voice surprisingly clear and cheerful despite his recent unconsciousness. "I'm starving! And boy, did I sleep well!"

Before you could even process the absurdity of the question, he pushed himself up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed as if his body wasn't a tapestry of fresh injuries. He stretched, a loud cracking of joints accompanying the movement, and then, inexplicably, he began to laugh. A hearty, booming, uninhibited sound that filled the small cabin and resonated deep within your chest. "Shishishishi!"

You could only stare, dumbfounded. This wasn't the reaction of a man who'd been severely beaten and rescued by an armed stranger. This was… pure, unadulterated exuberance. He moved towards you, seemingly oblivious to your sword, his bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor. "You're strong, aren't ya?" he observed, his eyes twinkling. "I felt that when you picked me up! That was awesome! You got any more of that food you ate? My belly feels a bit empty now, but I think I could fit a whole feast in there!"

You could only stare as he bounded towards you, a whirlwind of unyielding cheer. The sheer lack of self-preservation was astounding. He truly just wanted meat. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched your lips, a reaction you hadn't expected.

"Just… hold on a moment," you said, your voice a little hesitant, though it carried an underlying kindness you rarely showed. You gestured towards the bed he'd just vacated. "You're still recovering. Don't overexert yourself. I'll get you some food."

His eyes lit up, his smile widening even further. "Really?! Awesome! You're the best!" He bounced back to the bed, a spring in his step despite the fresh bandages, and plopped down, watching you with an almost childlike anticipation.

You turned, heading towards your small larder. The food you had painstakingly hunted and prepared for your own meals over the next few days – a plump boar leg, some smoked fish, a handful of wild berries – was now destined for this stranger. A familiar pang of self-sufficiency reminded you that you could go without a meal or two, it wouldn't be the first time.

You brought the platter back, setting it down on a low table near the bed. Luffy's eyes went wide, and he attacked the food with an enthusiasm that bordered on alarming. He devoured the boar leg in a few massive bites, the smoked fish disappearing just as quickly, occasionally letting out a satisfied "Mmm!" or "So good!" between mouthfuls.

As he chewed through the last of the berries, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, you finally asked, your voice steady, though a flicker of curiosity danced in your eyes. "What's your name, and what are you doing here?"

He swallowed loudly, then grinned, a smear of berry juice on his cheek. "My name's Monkey D. Luffy! And I'm gonna be the King of the Pirates!" He flexed a bandaged arm. "I was just tryin' out a new move! I kinda... overdid it a little, shishishishi! Then I woke up here! You saved me, right? Thanks a bunch! You're super strong! Are you a pirate too?"

"A pirate?" You scoffed, a genuine, mirthless sound that surprised even yourself. The word tasted bitter on your tongue, a harsh echo of a past you'd tried to bury. Pirates. The very reason you lived in this isolated cabin, the reason you’d built walls around your heart. They were plunderers, destroyers, the ones who had… well, the details were a blur, a painful, fragmented memory of a home consumed by fire and the chilling cries of innocents caught in their destructive wake. A hatred, cold and deep, had festered in your soul since childhood.

But then you looked at him. Monkey D. Luffy, a boy who seemed to embody pure, unadulterated sunshine, despite the scars that marked him. He was guileless, earnest, speaking of grand dreams with an open heart. He didn't carry the predatory glint in his eye, the sneering contempt, or the callous disregard for life you'd come to associate with his kind.

You chuckled again, a surprised, almost rusty sound that felt foreign on your lips. "You know," you said, a hint of genuine amusement softening your tone, "you don't act like a pirate at all."

Luffy blinked, tilting his head slightly, a confused frown creasing his brow. "Huh? What do you mean?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "I'm a pirate! I'm gonna find the One Piece and be King of the Pirates! Shishishishi!" He puffed out his chest, a clear declaration of his identity, entirely oblivious to the subtle disapproval in your voice. "Are you a pirate hunter? Or like, a marine?" he asked, his eyes wide with curiosity, completely unfazed by your prior disdain for his chosen profession.

You felt a subtle shift in your posture, a slight relaxation in your shoulders. This kid—he might actually be closer to your age, but his boundless energy and unburdened spirit made him seem much younger. He was bright, truly like the sun, radiating an infectious warmth that slowly, cautiously, began to chip away at your hardened shell.

"Nope," you replied, a faint smile playing on your lips. "I'm a swordsman. Used to be a pirate hunter, actually, but that was a long time ago. No need to fear."

Luffy’s eyes widened, a spark of pure admiration igniting in them. "Shishishishi! That's awesome! I have a swordsman on my crew too! He's super strong! He can cut anything!" He bounced on the bed, practically vibrating with excitement as he talked about his crewmate, his gestures animated, but notably, he didn't mention a name.

Just as you opened your mouth, a question already forming about this unnamed, "super strong" swordsman, a new sound pierced the forest's quiet.

"Luffy!"

The voice, clear and distinctly female, echoed from outside the cabin.

"Nami!" Luffy bellowed, already halfway out the cabin door, his booming laughter preceding him like a joyful wave. "Shishishishi! You found me!"

You followed, a silent shadow, your sword now firmly in hand, ready to spring from the dense forest cover. Your eyes scanned the clearing, your heart hammering a familiar rhythm of caution. The unexpected intrusion of one person was one thing, but an entire group? Your instincts screamed danger, despite Luffy's disarming presence.

As you emerged from the tree line, your gaze swept over the eclectic group waiting in the clearing. A young woman with vibrant orange hair stood hands on hips, looking both exasperated and relieved. Beside her, a towering skeleton in a suit tipped his hat, a bizarre, polite gesture. A young man with an impossibly long nose clutched something in his hand, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. A tiny, adorable reindeer-raccoon thing hopped nervously on two hooves, while a large, imposing fish-man stood with an air of quiet dignity. And finally, a serene woman with black hair observed the scene with an almost unnerving calmness, a faint smile playing on her lips.

"Luffy, you idiot!" the orange-haired woman, presumably Nami, scolded, but her voice held relief. "Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you?! And what happened to you? You're all bandaged up!"

Luffy just grinned, pointing a bandaged thumb at you. "This awesome person saved me! They're super strong! And they gave me meat!"

The skeleton bowed deeply. "Yohohoho! It is a pleasure to meet our captain's rescuer! May we know the name of such a kind and capable individual?"

The long-nosed man, Usopp, gulped, eyeing your sword nervously. "S-she looks kinda scary, Luffy! Is she friendly?"

The reindeer, Chopper, peered at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Are you a doctor? Your bandages look good!"

The fish-man, Jinbe, offered a respectful nod. "We are deeply grateful for your assistance with our captain."

The black-haired woman, Robin, simply smiled, her gaze piercing. "It seems our captain has found another interesting encounter."

You remained silent, your sword still poised, your eyes flicking from one face to the next. They were certainly… unusual. And despite their captain's claims, they were still pirates. You weren't letting your guard down yet.

Just as you were about to demand their intentions, another figure emerged from deeper within the treeline, a slender man with yellow hair and distinctive curly brows. He had clearly been snooping around the strung-up game animals you’d prepared earlier, his eyes wide with a hungry gleam. As he turned, his gaze locked with yours, and an instant transformation took place. His eyes, just moments ago focused on food, suddenly morphed into perfect, shimmering hearts.

He took a step towards you, a dreamy, almost reverent look on his face. "Ah, my lovely angel!" he practically crooned, completely ignoring the rest of his crew and your sword. "Such grace, such beauty! You are a goddess descended from the heavens! To think, such a divine creature has graced this humble forest with her presence!" He seemed utterly smitten, a flurry of hearts practically radiating from him.

You stared, utterly bewildered. This was a new level of pirate eccentricity, even for this bizarre group. Your usual response to such overtures would be a cold glare, perhaps a subtle hint of the wind around your blade. But his immediate, over-the-top adoration was so utterly ridiculous, so devoid of any actual threat, that it completely disarmed you.

You lowered your sword a fraction, though you still held it ready. "I'm not a goddess," you stated, your voice flat, a hint of dry amusement creeping into your tone despite yourself. Your gaze swept over the entire crew, your eyes finally settling on Luffy. "And I'm not a pirate. I simply helped your captain because he was unconscious and injured on my island." You paused, a silent challenge in your eyes. "Now, state your intentions. Why are you here?"

The Straw Hat crew exchanged glances, a silent conversation passing between them before Luffy, ever the straightforward one, spoke up. "We're here because we heard there was a really strong guy on this island! Someone even stronger than me!" His eyes twinkled with excitement. "We came to find him and maybe get him to join my crew! You're really strong, so maybe it's you?"

Nami sighed, stepping forward. "What Luffy means is, we're travelers, and we were just passing through. Our captain, as you can see, has a knack for getting into trouble. We apologize for the disturbance. We'll be leaving once he's recovered." Her tone was polite, but firm, a clear attempt to de-escalate the situation.

Usopp, still a bit wary, piped up, "Yeah! We're not here to cause any trouble! Just trying to get our captain back on his feet!"

You looked at them, taking in their diverse personalities. Luffy's boundless energy, Nami's practical caution, Usopp's nervous sincerity. They weren't the usual cutthroat pirates you'd encountered. A strange thought occurred to you, a fleeting impulse that surprised you with its warmth. Your cabin, though small, could accommodate them. And after years of solitary meals, the idea of cooking for others, even pirates, held a curious appeal.

"Fine," you said, sheathing your sword and turning towards your cabin. "You can stay the night. And since you're here... I'll cook you a meal."

Before you could take another step, Sanji, who had been listening with rapt attention, swooped in. He grabbed your hand, his eyes still forming hearts, and brought it to his lips. "My dear goddess! An angel such as yourself should not bother with such arduous labor! Allow me, your humble chef, to prepare a feast fit for your divine presence!"

You flinched, a wave of disgust washing over you. "Ew," you muttered, yanking your hand away from his surprisingly soft grip. You shot him a look that could curdle milk. "Keep your hands to yourself, curly-brow."

Ignoring his heartbroken whines, you led them into the cabin. It was a tight squeeze with the whole crew, but they managed, settling down with a mix of anticipation and awe at your rustic but comfortable home. You moved with practiced ease, lighting the fire, pulling out large pots, and beginning to chop the fresh game and wild vegetables. The aroma of simmering stew soon filled the cabin, a scent that had been absent from your solitary life for far too long. You worked quickly, efficiently, and soon, plates piled high with hearty food were passed around.

As you watched them eat, their boisterous laughter and satisfied murmurs filling the small space, a strange feeling began to bloom in your chest. It wasn't happiness, not yet, but a flicker of something akin to warmth, a subtle easing of the loneliness that had been your constant companion.

You finally sat down with them, a plate of stew in your lap, the warmth of the fire and the lively chatter slowly thawing the edges of your usual reserve. Luffy, of course, was still inhaling his food, occasionally letting out an ecstatic "Delicious!" between mouthfuls.

"This is amazing, you're an incredible cook!" Nami exclaimed, genuinely impressed, her eyes wide as she savored a bite. "What kind of meat is this? I haven't tasted anything this good in ages!"

"Just boar," you replied, taking a hesitant bite yourself. The taste was familiar, comforting, but somehow richer with the company. "Caught it this morning."

"You caught it?!" Usopp yelped, nearly choking on his stew. "By yourself?! With that sword?!" He looked at you with renewed awe, and a healthy dose of fear.

Chopper, ever the observant one, looked up from his bowl. "Your pulse is much calmer now than when you brought Luffy in! And your muscles look very relaxed!"

Brook, the skeleton, chuckled, a dry, rattling sound. "Yohohoho! Indeed, doctor-san! A truly harmonious atmosphere. Might I be so bold as to request a song after this magnificent meal?"

Sanji, meanwhile, was hovering, practically orbiting your chair. "My angel, you simply mustn't dirty your delicate hands with dishes after such a culinary masterpiece! Allow me to attend to everything!" He had completely forgotten his earlier rebuff, his eyes still hearts.

"Don't even think about it, curly-brow," you deadpanned, giving him a flat look. Despite your words, a tiny smile played on your lips.

Luffy, finally swallowing a large gulp, looked at you, his characteristic grin unwavering. "You know, you're really strong! You should join my crew! You can make awesome food, and you're a super cool swordsman!"

The suggestion hung in the air. You looked around the circle of faces – the earnestness of Luffy, the practicality of Nami, the nervous energy of Usopp, the gentle curiosity of Chopper, the dignified calm of Jinbe, the serene observation of Robin, and even the ridiculousness of Sanji and Brook. They were loud, chaotic, and utterly unlike anyone you'd encountered in years. They were pirates, yes, but they were also… a family. A strange, boisterous, undeniable family.

"Captain-san always knows how to find remarkable individuals," Robin commented softly, her gaze holding a knowing glint.

The cabin, usually a sanctuary of silence, was now filled with laughter, lively banter, and the clinking of bowls. For the first time in years, you felt a flicker of genuine connection, a sense of belonging that you hadn't realized how desperately you'd missed. You found yourself chuckling at one of Usopp's exaggerated stories, offering Chopper advice on a particular herb, and even tolerating Sanji's persistent compliments with a roll of your eyes instead of a glare.

As the night deepened, and the fire crackled warmly, you realized that this unexpected intrusion might just be the most interesting thing to happen to your solitary life in a very long time.

The aroma of sizzling fish and fresh berries filled the cabin as morning light streamed through the small window. You moved about the familiar space, preparing breakfast for your unexpected guests, but your mind was elsewhere. Sleep had been a fickle companion last night, haunted by Luffy's casual invitation. Was he serious? Or was it just the whimsical musings of a naive pirate captain? The thought of joining a crew, of leaving your solitary life behind, had you teetering on a precipice, a wall you'd built to protect yourself.

Luffy, surprisingly, was already awake, perched on the edge of the bed, his bandaged arm swinging idly. The rest of the crew slowly roused, drawn by the scent of food. As you set a platter of cooked fish and wild fruit on the table, Luffy's eyes, bright and earnest, fixed on you.

"Hey!" he announced, his voice ringing with conviction. "You're gonna join my crew, right?"

Nami, who was just stretching, blinked at him. "Luffy, don't just spring that on someone!"

"He's right though," Robin interjected, a small smile gracing her lips. "Her abilities, and her cooking, would be a valuable asset."

Usopp, rubbing sleep from his eyes, nodded vigorously. "Yeah! We could use another strong person! And someone who can cook like this!"

Even Sanji, despite his lovesick demeanor, chimed in. "To have such a divine maiden join our ranks would be a dream come true!"

You stared at them, the reality of their sincerity washing over you. They weren't joking. Luffy's bright eyes held no trace of jest. You let out a laugh, a genuine, unburdened sound that bubbled up from deep within, surprising even yourself. It started small, then grew, filling the cabin with a warmth it hadn't known in years. They looked at you, puzzled, then a few of them started to chuckle along, unsure why.

Your laughter subsided, leaving a lingering lightness in its wake. You looked from Luffy's eager face to the others, their expressions ranging from hopeful to quietly approving. The quiet life you had painstakingly built, the solitude you had embraced, suddenly felt… small. You had carved out a safe existence, but it was also a lonely one.

The moment stretched, feeling impossibly long, as if time itself held its breath. The memories of a certain green-haired swordsman flickered in your mind, a bittersweet ache. But this was different. This wasn't about finding what you lost; it was about discovering something new.

Finally, you met Luffy's gaze, a decisive spark igniting in your eyes. "Alright," you said, your voice clear and firm, "I'll join your crew."

An hour later, your small cabin was secured, and you stood ready, your supplies packed, your sword at your hip. The Straw Hats were already moving through the forest, their cheerful chatter a stark contrast to the quiet you'd grown accustomed to. You followed, a new and unfamiliar blend of anticipation and unease stirring within you.

Luffy, bounding ahead, turned back, his boundless enthusiasm radiating. "Oh! My shipwright is working on the ship! You'll like him— he's super strong!" He paused, his eyes gleaming with an even brighter excitement. "Oh! Oh, and my swordsman! You guys have to like each other! You're both super strong swordsmen!"

Sanji, ever the protective one when it came to beautiful women, immediately scoffed, pulling a dramatic pose. "Tch, as if! Y/N-swan is far too beautiful, too exquisite, to even cast a single glance at that moss-headed brute!"

The casual mention of "swordsman" and Sanji's dismissive "moss-head" comment sent a jolt through you. Your mind, against your will, conjured an image: a familiar face, a head of startling green hair. Zoro. Your ex-lover, the one you'd left behind, the one who had broken your heart but who you could never bring yourself to hate. He was a swordsman, undeniably strong, and yes, sometimes a bit of a "moss-head."

You quickly, firmly, shoved the thought away. It was impossible. He was a pirate hunter, a man who pursued pirates, not one who joined them. The thought was a cruel trick of your memory, a coincidence of words. He wouldn't be here. He couldn't be. You focused on the path ahead, on the rustling leaves, on anything but the fleeting phantom of a life you'd once shared.

The dense forest canopy finally broke, revealing a breathtaking sight that made you pause. There, nestled against a secluded stretch of beach, bobbing gently on the calm, azure waters, was a ship unlike any you had ever seen. It was the Thousand Sunny, a magnificent vessel crafted from Adam Wood, gleaming in the morning sun. Its most striking feature was the colossal, grinning lion figurehead, its mane swept back like a proud banner. Two massive, wooden cannons flanked its sides, and a lush, green lawn spread across its deck, complete with a slide and an observation tree. It looked less like a warship and more like a floating paradise, a testament to incredible craftsmanship and an even more incredible imagination.

Near the figurehead, a large, impossibly muscular man with bright blue hair, a red Hawaiian shirt, and metal forearms was meticulously working on the ship’s rigging, humming a tune. This had to be their shipwright.

"Franky!" Luffy roared, his voice echoing across the water, "Look! We've got a new crewmate!" He pointed an excited finger directly at you.

The man, Franky, straightened up, his movements fluid despite his imposing size. He turned, his sunglasses glinting in the sun, and his eyes widened as they landed on you. His jaw dropped, and he struck a dramatic pose, flexing his considerable biceps.

"S-U-P-E-R!" he boomed, tears welling in his eyes. "Another beautiful lady to grace our magnificent vessel! This is SUUUUPER! Welcome aboard, new crewmate! The name's Franky, the shipwright of this glorious dream!" He gestured grandly at the Sunny with a sweeping arm. "What do you think of her? Isn't she a SUUUUPER ship?"

You blinked, taken aback by his sheer enthusiasm. "She's... impressive," you managed, a genuine note of awe in your voice. You'd never seen a ship so lovingly crafted, so obviously designed for adventure. "Truly beautiful work."

Franky gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. "Oh, my heart! Such kind words from such a vision of loveliness! I knew you'd understand her beauty! She truly is a SUUUUPER creation, built to carry us all to the ends of the world!"

"Come on, come on!" Luffy practically bounced with excitement, grabbing your arm and tugging you towards the gangplank. "You gotta meet my swordsman! You two are gonna be best friends, I know it!"

You stumbled forward, caught off guard by his relentless pull. The wooden deck felt solid beneath your feet, the salty air whipping around you. As Luffy dragged you further onto the Thousand Sunny, your eyes quickly scanned the vibrant ship: the lush green lawn, the massive cannons, the intricate details of the lion figurehead. It truly was a marvel. Luffy’s laughter echoed around you, bright and carefree.

Then, a voice, deep and gruff, cut through the sounds of the ship. A voice that sent a jolt of ice and fire through your veins, a voice that had haunted your quiet nights for years.

"Captain, who the hell is—"

Your head snapped to the side, your gaze following the sound. He stood there, emerging from behind the mast, his green hair as unmistakable as ever. His three swords were at his hip, his signature white shirt open, revealing his scarred, muscular chest. His eyes, sharp and unwavering, were already fixed on you.

The world seemed to tilt. Luffy's laughter faded into an indistinct hum. The gentle rocking of the ship, the distant cries of gulls—all of it dissolved. There was only him. Roronoa Zoro. Your Zoro. His eyes, wide with disbelief, met yours, and in that moment, the entire universe simply froze.

"Zoro?" The name was a whisper, a ghost from a past that had suddenly, violently, crashed into the present. Your wrist fell from Luffy's grip, your arm dropping uselessly to your side as your entire body froze. The world, which had moments ago been a blur of vibrant colors and cheerful chaos, narrowed to the singular, breathtaking sight of him.

His eyes, that familiar shade of deep moss green, widened, a shock of recognition warring with something else – confusion? Disbelief? "Y-Y/N?" he rasped, his voice rough, as if he hadn't used your name in years. His gaze, usually so sharp and unwavering, darted over your face, lingering on your eyes, then moving to your stance, your hand instinctively hovering near your sword.

Luffy, oblivious to the sudden shift in the atmosphere, merely chuckled, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. "Shishishishi! You guys know each other?! That's awesome! I told you you'd like him, Y/N! He's super strong!"

Zoro tore his gaze from you for a split second, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he looked at his captain. "Captain," he began, his voice still a low growl, "I've... I've met her before, yes." He didn't elaborate, his eyes snapping back to you, an unspoken question passing between you both.

You, however, remained silent, your focus entirely on him. He was undeniably the same, yet profoundly different. The most striking change was the new scar, a jagged, stark line running down from his left eye, pulling the lid slightly, a permanent testament to battles you hadn't witnessed. His shoulders were broader, his frame more imposing, not in a crude way, but with a honed, powerful mass that spoke of rigorous training and countless fights. He carried himself with an even greater aura of quiet menace, a silent strength that had deepened into something almost formidable. He was stronger, undeniably so, a living embodiment of the years that had passed since you last stood before him.

The rest of the Straw Hat crew, having recovered from their initial surprise at your appearance, began to gather on the deck. Sanji, ever the instigator when it came to Zoro, was quick to seize the opportunity.

"Tch, moss-head," he sneered, his curly brow twitching. "Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? Did your precious booze run out?"

Luffy, completely oblivious to the palpable tension between you and Zoro, bounced excitedly. "Oh! Zoro knows Y/N! They met before!"

Sanji gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "What?! My lovely Y/N-swan knew this brute before?! No! It can't be! Such beauty could never have associated with such a barbaric swordsman!" He dissolved into theatrical tears, wailing mournfully.

Nami, however, was far more pragmatic. Her eyes darted between you and Zoro, a shrewd expression on her face. "Wait, you two know each other? How?"

You and Zoro both started to speak at once, the words tumbling over each other in a jumble of half-finished sentences.

"We just—" you began, then Zoro cut in, "She was a—"

"I met him in the—" you tried again, but Zoro's voice, rougher now, overrode yours.

"We were on the East Blue—"

"We knew each other—"

Zoro finally let out a frustrated grunt, silencing you with a sharp glance. He took a deep breath, his eyes still locked onto yours, a complicated mix of recognition and something akin to disbelief swirling within them. "We... we were close," he stated, his voice low and deliberate, cutting through the general chatter. "Before I met you, Captain. She was... she was my partner."

A hush fell over the deck, the cheerful chaos instantly replaced by stunned silence. Every pair of eyes, from Nami's shrewd assessment to Luffy's wide-eyed curiosity, swung between you and Zoro.

Sanji, for once, was speechless. His heart-eyes flickered, replaced by a comical expression of utter betrayal and disbelief. His jaw literally dropped. "P-partner?" he stammered, pointing a trembling finger first at you, then at Zoro. "You... you were with him?!" The very idea seemed to short-circuit his brain.

Nami's jaw went slack, her usual sharp wit completely gone. "His... partner?" she repeated, her voice a hushed whisper, her eyes wide with genuine shock. She quickly glanced at Zoro, then back to your expression, a thousand questions unspoken in her gaze.

Usopp let out a high-pitched squeak, his long nose twitching. He took a hasty step back, as if the revelation itself might be contagious. "You mean... like, together together?!"

Chopper, ever innocent, tilted his head. "Does that mean she knows how strong Zoro is from personal experience? Does she know his weak spots?"

Brook's bony hand flew to his mouth. "Yohohoho! My word! Such a dramatic revelation! Though I have no eyes to see, I can certainly feel the tension in the air! Indeed, a partner! How... utterly unforeseen!"

Jinbe remained stoic, but even his usually calm demeanor showed a flicker of surprise. He simply observed, his gaze thoughtful as he took in the palpable history between you and the Swordsman.

Robin's serene smile deepened, though her eyes held a spark of knowing amusement. "Fascinating," she murmured, a hand rising to her chin. "It seems our crew's dynamics have just become significantly more... entangled."

Luffy, surprisingly, was the first to break the stunned silence with a burst of laughter. "Shishishishi! That's even cooler! So you guys already know each other! This is gonna be great!" His enthusiasm, as always, cut through the awkwardness like a knife, though it did little to alleviate the tension between you and Zoro.

The deck felt charged, every eye on the two of you, the unspoken questions hanging heavy in the salty air.

Time, as it always does, continued its relentless march. The initial shock among the crew slowly subsided, replaced by a buzzing undercurrent of curiosity. They eventually settled back into their usual boisterous activities, a raucous party breaking out under the New World's star-dusted sky. But for you and Zoro, the world still felt subtly off-kilter. You both kept stealing glances, quick, furtive looks that spoke volumes of unspoken history, of lingering questions, and of a shared past that had just violently resurfaced.

Eventually, you found yourselves gravitating towards the ship's stern, away from the immediate clamor of the party, the sounds of laughter and music softened by the salty breeze. The vast expanse of the ocean stretched out before you, mirroring the emotional distance that had grown between you two.

"So, uh… you joinin’ the crew?" Zoro's voice was a low rumble, barely audible over the distant festivities, a stark contrast to his usual bluntness. He didn't look at you, his gaze fixed on the endless horizon.

You nodded slowly, your eyes tracing the path of a lone star. "Uh, yeah… looks like it." You swallowed, the words catching in your throat before you finally managed to push them out. "You, uhm, look good, Zoro." It was an understatement. He looked formidable, a force of nature, yet the familiarity of his presence sent a strange warmth through you.

He finally turned his head, his single visible eye meeting yours. There was a flicker of something unreadable in its depths. "You too," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over you. "Stronger."

A small, sad smile touched your lips. "Had to be. After… after everything." The unspoken hung heavy in the air. The night of your breakup, the silent departure, the years of living in a world without him.

"Look," he began, his voice rougher now, a hint of his old gruffness returning, "about that night… I was a mess. We were both a mess. Things got out of hand."

"They did," you agreed softly, your voice tinged with a weariness that went bone-deep. "It was… a long time ago. A lot's happened."

"Yeah," he grunted, a small exhale of air. "Been training. A lot. Ended up with these idiots." He gestured vaguely towards the distant party, but a faint, almost imperceptible curve of his lips suggested affection. "And you? What have you been doing?"

You shrugged, looking back out at the ocean. "The usual. Traveling, fighting, trying to stay out of trouble. Ended up back home, mostly. Living a quiet life." You hesitated, then added, "It was… lonely, sometimes."

He was silent for a moment, and you felt his gaze on you, heavy and knowing. "Yeah," he finally said, his voice softer than you expected. "I get that."

A new silence stretched between you, more comfortable than the initial one, yet still fraught with unspoken emotions. "So," you ventured, breaking it, "this is… going to be interesting."

"Don't make it awkward," he stated, his voice firm, though without malice. It was a direct command, an echo of the way he used to cut through your emotional turmoil with practical demands.

You met his gaze, a genuine, if weary, smile finally surfacing. "Wouldn't dream of it, moss-head."

A flicker of something akin to relief crossed his face, quickly masked. "Good. We're a crew now."

The stars glittered above, the party continued behind you, and out on the vast, dark ocean, the Thousand Sunny sailed onward, carrying a past that had just collided with an unforeseen future.

The initial days were, as expected, a tightrope walk of strained politeness and unspoken history. Every accidental brush of shoulders on the crowded deck, every shared glance across the galley, was charged with a lingering awkwardness. The crew, though respectful, couldn't help but notice the subtle tension that still hummed between you and Zoro. Sanji’s jealous glares at Zoro intensified, while Nami often shot you knowing, sympathetic looks.

But with each passing sunrise, with every shared meal and every storm weathered together, the discomfort slowly began to dissipate. The vastness of the ocean and the inherent camaraderie of the Straw Hat crew acted as a gentle balm, softening the sharp edges of your past. The complicated emotions started to untangle, becoming something more… comfortable. Less fraught.

You and Zoro found yourselves gravitating towards each other without conscious effort. It began subtly. One evening, you were meticulously cleaning your sword, the steel glinting in the lantern light, when Zoro appeared, settling silently beside you. He didn't speak, just took out one of his own blades and began to sharpen it, the rhythmic scrape of stone against metal filling the comfortable silence. You’d occasionally offer a tip on a new sharpening technique you'd learned, and he'd nod, sometimes even grunting a quiet acknowledgment.

Another time, during a particularly rough patch of sea, you found yourself bracing against the railing, the wind whipping your hair. Zoro, standing a few feet away, somehow sensed your discomfort. Without a word, he simply adjusted his stance, subtly shielding you from the worst of the spray, his broad back a steady, unwavering presence. You didn't acknowledge it, but the gesture didn't go unnoticed, a small warmth spreading through you.

There were moments in the galley too. Luffy’s insatiable appetite often meant food disappeared rapidly. One day, you noticed Zoro had deliberately set aside a portion of meat for you, nudging it discreetly to your side of the table before Luffy could devour it. You met his gaze, a silent understanding passing between you, a shared smirk over their captain's gluttony.

The most telling moments were often quiet. You'd catch him watching you during training, not with the intense scrutiny of a rival, but with a gaze that held a flicker of pride. And sometimes, late at night, when the deck was quiet and the stars were bright, you'd find yourselves standing side-by-side at the railing, gazing out at the endless sea. No words were needed. Just the comfortable presence of a shared past, now gently weaving itself into a shared present. The gap between you wasn't fully closed, perhaps it never would be entirely, but it was shrinking, replaced by a quiet, undeniable closeness.

After a month, the quiet comfort had deepened, blooming into something undeniably more. The easy camaraderie between you and Zoro had begun to crackle with an unspoken energy, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift that spoke of lingering affection and rekindled embers. The air around you both, even when you were simply sharing space, felt thicker, charged with a tension that was undeniably romantic. Even Luffy, renowned for his dense perception, noticed it.

One sunny afternoon, you were meticulously polishing the blade of your sword on the grassy deck. Zoro, as usual, was napping nearby, propped against the mast. A stray gust of wind, stronger than usual, tugged at a strand of your hair, blowing it across your face. Before you could even lift a hand, a calloused finger, surprisingly gentle, brushed against your cheek, tucking the errant strand behind your ear. You froze, your breath catching. His eyes were still closed, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk on his lips. He hadn't woken up; it was an instinctual gesture, a habit from a forgotten past. You just stared, your heart hammering against your ribs.

Another evening, during one of the crew's impromptu talent shows, Usopp was attempting a particularly terrible magic trick, which involved a lot of smoke and minor explosions. You, sitting cross-legged, coughed as a cloud of acrid smoke drifted your way. Without missing a beat, Zoro, who was perched on the railing a few feet away, subtly shifted his position, drawing on his own latent understanding of air currents. A gentle, almost imperceptible current of wind, too soft to be your own power, nudged the smoke away from you, leaving you in clear air. You met his gaze across the deck, a shared, knowing smile passing between you, a silent acknowledgment of the quiet protection.

And then there were the late nights. You’d often find yourselves on watch together, the vast ocean stretching out in silent majesty. One particular night, the stars were incredibly bright, shimmering like spilled diamonds across the inky blackness. You shivered slightly as a cool breeze swept across the deck. Without a word, Zoro moved closer, his warmth a solid, comforting presence beside you. He didn't touch you, but the proximity was enough, a quiet embrace that spoke louder than any words. You could feel the heat radiating from him, smell the familiar scent of salt and steel that clung to him, and in that moment, under the watchful gaze of the New World sky, the unspoken longing between you was almost unbearable. Even Luffy, who had wandered out for a midnight snack, paused, chewing slowly, his head tilted as he observed the two of you. He then let out a soft, knowing "Shishishishi," before quietly retreating, leaving you both to the beautiful, agonizing tension of the night.

And the arguments? Well, they were still there. But they were different now. The gut-wrenching clashes of the past had softened, morphing into something almost wholesome, even endearing, like the squabbles of an old married couple who knew each other's quirks too well. The underlying affection was too strong, the bond too deep, for them to truly break.

One morning, you found Zoro hopelessly lost below deck, muttering curses under his breath. "Dammit, where's the galley? It was just here!"

You leaned against a bulkhead, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's three steps to your left, then a right, moss-head. You've been on this ship for months, how do you still get lost?"

He grumbled, finally stumbling into the galley. "It moves! The ship moves when I'm not looking! It's obviously cursed." You just chuckled, shaking your head, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the sea air.

Another time, a fierce debate erupted over the best way to clean a sword. You favored a specific oil and polishing cloth, while Zoro insisted on his traditional method of simply wiping the blade on his shirt after a fight.

"You're going to dull the edge, Zoro!" you admonished, watching him. "That's not proper maintenance!"

"It's fine! It's how I've always done it!" he retorted, not even looking up. "My blades are sharper than any of yours anyway."

"That's a lie and you know it! I could cut you in half before you even drew a single one of those glorified butter knives!"

He just scoffed, a familiar smirk on his face. "Want to test that, Y/N?" The challenge was there, but it was playful, an invitation to a familiar, friendly sparring match that always ended in a draw, with you both laughing and breathless.

And then there were the moments during shared watch. You’d be gazing at the stars, charting a course in your head, when he'd suddenly nudge you. "You're leaning on me, Y/N. Don't fall asleep."

"Am not," you'd mumble, shifting slightly but not really moving, secretly enjoying the solid warmth of his side. "And even if I was, you wouldn't let me fall."

He’d just grunt, but you could feel the subtle relaxing of his posture, the comfortable weight of his presence beside you. The arguments were no longer about breaking apart, but about the gentle friction of two strong wills, intertwined and utterly at home with each other.

The arguments, once sharp daggers that tore at the fabric of your love, had transformed. They were now the comfortable hum of an old, well-oiled machine, the familiar rhythm of two souls irrevocably entwined. You’d bicker over who got the last piece of roasted seabird, or the proper way to tie a specific knot, or Zoro’s uncanny ability to get lost even on a straight path on deck. These weren't battles; they were banter, a testament to the easy, undeniable intimacy that had blossomed between you.

One blustery afternoon, during a particularly fierce squall, you found yourselves on deck, working in tandem to secure a flapping sail. The wind shrieked, the ship pitched violently, and rain lashed down, plastering your hair to your face.

"Pull harder on that line, moss-head!" you yelled over the storm's roar, struggling with a stubborn rope.

"I am pulling, you stubborn wind-witch!" Zoro retorted, his muscles straining, his focus absolute. "You're just not strong enough!"

You let out a frustrated grunt, then a laugh, a wild, exhilarating sound lost to the gale. "Oh, I'll show you strong enough!" With a burst of your Kaze Kaze no Mi, you created a powerful gust that slammed the sail into place, nearly knocking him off his feet.

He stumbled, regaining his balance with a surprised grunt, then looked at you, a wide, challenging grin splitting his face. "Heh. Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all."

Later that night, as the storm quieted and the stars began to peek through the dispersing clouds, you sat together on the deck, sharing a bottle of sake, the last remnants of the day's adrenaline humming beneath your skin. The air was cool, fresh, and cleansed.

"You know," you said, breaking the comfortable silence, your voice soft, "we really are a mess, aren't we?"

Zoro took a long swallow of sake, his gaze fixed on the horizon, illuminated by the pale moonlight. "Yeah," he grunted, a faint smile playing on his lips. "Guess so." He turned his head then, his single eye meeting yours, filled with a quiet, profound understanding. "But I wouldn't have it any other way."

Your heart swelled, a warmth spreading through you that transcended the sake. You reached out, your hand finding his, your fingers intertwining naturally, as if they had always belonged there. The scars on his hand were rough beneath your touch, a map of battles fought and survived.

He squeezed your hand gently, then looked back at the ocean, his grip firm and unwavering. The silence that settled between you was no longer awkward or strained, but a rich, comfortable blanket woven from years of shared laughter, enduring love, and the quiet understanding of two souls who had found their way back to each other amidst the chaos of the New World. You were a mess, yes, but you were their mess, and together, on the endless sea, under the endless sky, you were finally home.

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kyllium · 17 days ago

Text

MAMA. zoro x reader ; fluff, flustered zoro. you find his shirt from water 7 (episode 318) and have some questions. — WC : 911

As you sift through the clothes that you store in your small room on the Thousand Sunny, searching for something suitable to wear for the day out at sea, your eye catches something crumpled in the back corner, hidden under a pile of old t-shirts from adventures past.

It didn’t look familiar to you as you tugged it out of its hiding place, the faded yellow colored baby tee was definitely not yours which could only mean it was one of Zoro's.

But it didn’t seem like something he’d wear.

And, plastered on the front, was the word ‘mama’.

Maybe it belonged to one of the girls?

With a lazy shrug of your shoulders, you throw it on and style it with some cute shorts you had laying around. Once you were satisfied with your look, you made your way out to the deck to see what the crew, and your lover, was up to.

And that’s when you see him, lifting a few dumbbells as he stares across the ocean, seemingly lost in thought. Before you make your presence known, you can’t help but admire his quiet intensity. Each bicep curl falls into rhythm with your heartbeat, the sunlight catching the accumulating sweat on his rippling muscles steals your breath away.

“Hi Zo!” There was a slight bounce in your step as your voice carried across the grassy floor. The sound reaches his ears, commanding his attention as your presence so readily does.

The greeting is not one you expected from him, causing you to freeze right in your tracks. Whenever you popped by when he was training or working out, he’d at least give you a small smile in acknowledgment.

But this? This was very different.

Zoro's eye flew wide open, his face flushing a deeper red with each passing second. Every muscle in his already taut body froze as he gaped at you, his gaze stuck on the shirt you wore.

“You like it?” You’re a bit hesitant as you step forward like a hunter approaches a scared animal, careful not to startle him any further.

“Where did you get that?” The question was flat, shock drenching every syllable. A slight pout forms on his face as he studies you, a glint of concern flickering in his steely eye that you’re not sure how to decipher.

“It was in the back of our wardrobe.” You tilt your head, growing curiouser by the moment. There was something amusing about the way Zoro was looking at you, wide eyed and slack jawed. It was as if you were wearing something completely scandalous – not just a t-shirt. “What's with the reaction?”

“Nothing!” He stands up straighter, trying to clear his throat. Carefully, he sets down his weights before reattaching his swords by his side — no doubt a source of reassuring comfort.

“So, it is yours?” A mischievous smile takes over your face.

“Err—.” He pauses, his fingers run along the hilts of his swords, something he does when he’s a little on edge. “Yes.”

“Why don’t you ever wear it? It was practically shoved away.” Standing before him now, you can see all the different pigments of pink and red blooming across his face. Zoro huffs, brushing past you as he starts walking away.

“It's just a stupid shirt.” The blush on his face was unwavering, the sun only highlighting the effect this conversation was having on him.

“Yet you kept it.” You push, practically skipping behind him as he leads you both to wherever he was headed.

“I forgot about it, alright?” He huffs, looking anywhere else but you and that damn shirt.

“Where’d you even get something like this?” There was no stopping you when you had your mind set on something, and every question you asked only unlocked another.

“Water 7.” Zoro gripped the hilt of the Wado, muscles straining under the interrogation he was trying to flee from.

“And you bought it yourself?” You can almost see it now, Zoro being dragged by Nami into some store and picking up the first thing he could find.

But something tells you that the way he acquired it was a much more interesting story. You were itching to find out.

“Not exactly.” You go to open your mouth but he beats you to it, spinning around to finally face you. “No way, I'm not telling you this story.”

“How about a cup of sake and a kiss for your troubles?” Zoro glares at you, clenching his jaw shut. Whatever the origins of this shirt was, he seemed too embarrassed to tell you how he got it but he knew you were teasing. So, you sweeten the deal. “Or you can show me how much you dislike it by tearing it off of me. Your choice.”

Before he has a chance to bark something back, Robin rounds around to where the two of you were headed. She gives a small, sweet smile, her eyes blinking shut in contentment. The calm before the storm.

“How sweet of you to let them wear your shirt, Zoro.” She says, her voice light yet monotone. “All that’s missing are the three babies.”

“The three WHAT?” You and Zoro both yell out in shock, watching as Robin strolls away, her smile curling into something more mischievous. You’re both left there, stunned into silence as a million new questions come to mind about this shirt.

Zoro was definitely going to need that cup of sake now.

thank you for reading :3 !!

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kyllium · 17 days ago

Note

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

A Quartermasters Heart

Zoro x reader

Words:13,575

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

!!SMUT!!

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.��.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It happened in a second. Just a second.

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

There was only one option.

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

But it was too late.

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

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

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

"Y/N!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A long, agonizing second passed. Then another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A collective gasp swept through the crew.

And then, the horrifying flaking of your skin stopped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too much, even.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Subtle Signs

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He pulled out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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