lauvsamara

[lauvsamara]

━╋ SHIN ASAKURA: Sick day

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, y/n catches a cold, and Shin shows up with medicine and snacks, claiming “your mom forced me” even though she didn’t ^.^

Your nose was stuffy, your head felt like it weighed twice as much as usual, and the mountain of tissues on your nightstand was proof enough that today was a lost cause. The curtains were drawn, the room dim, and you’d resigned yourself to wasting the entire day in bed.

That is, until the sound of your front door creaked open.

You sat up slightly, startled. A muffled voice called from the hall.

“Hey. Don’t freak out—it’s just me.”

Shin Asakura stepped into your room, balancing a plastic bag in one hand. He looked out of place in the soft, lived-in space of your bedroom, tall and serious against the cozy clutter.

“…Shin?” you croaked, voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

He set the bag down on your desk, shrugging. “Your mom said you were sick. She made me check on you.”

That sounded suspicious. You narrowed your eyes, though it was hard to look intimidating with a red nose and blanket wrapped around you. “My mom’s at work...”

“…Yeah, well.” He avoided your gaze, busying himself with the bag. “She called me, then.”

You almost laughed—almost. “You expect me to believe my mom called you, out of everyone?”

Shin didn’t answer, pulling out a pack of cough drops, bottled water, and—your favorite instant congee flavor.

Your chest tightened, but not from the cold. “…You did this on your own.”

He finally looked at you then, deadpan as ever. “Does it matter?”

You didn’t reply, just sinking deeper into your blanket as he set the food up.

He moved around like he’d done it a hundred times before, opening the thermos, tearing open packets, even placing the tissues closer to your bed without a word.

When he caught you staring, he raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, cheeks warm despite your fever. “You’re just… nice.”

“Don’t spread rumors,” he muttered, but the tips of his ears were pink as he set the steaming bowl on your nightstand. “Eat. Then sleep. And don’t even think about pretending you’re fine.”

You smiled weakly, spoon in hand. “Yes, mom.”

Shin rolled his eyes, dragging your desk chair closer to the bed and sitting down like he planned to stay.

“Not leaving until you actually fall asleep,” he said, leaning back with his arms crossed.

And true to his word, he stayed—quiet and steady—until the warmth of the congee and the sound of his even breathing lulled you to sleep.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ SHIN ASAKURA: Cooking mishap

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, Home Ec pairs them up, Y/N messes up quite badly… so Shin quietly fixes things without making her feel bad!

The classroom smelled faintly of miso and soy sauce, pots clattering as pairs scrambled around the kitchen counters. You tugged at your apron strings, glancing sideways at your partner.

Shin Asakura leaned against the counter like he had all the time in the world, arms crossed, watching you wrestle with the cutting board.

“You’re gonna lose a finger if you keep holding it like that,” he said flatly, voice quiet but cutting through the noise.

“I know how to cut vegetables,” you muttered, cheeks heating as the knife slipped dangerously close to your thumb.

Without another word, Shin stepped in, his hand gently steadying yours. His fingers were warm against your wrist, guiding the knife at the right angle. The closeness made your pulse spike, though his expression stayed unreadable as always.

“There. Easier, right?”

You nodded quickly, pretending not to notice how calm he looked while you were practically combusting inside.

When it came time to cook, things went downhill fast. Your miso soup turned too salty, and the rice burned at the bottom of the pot. You groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“I’m officially the worst cooking partner.”

Shin was quiet for a beat. Then, without making a big deal out of it, he slid his perfectly cooked rice in front of you, swapping bowls before anyone could notice.

“Yours is fine,” he said casually. “Mine… kinda sucks.”

You blinked at him, lowering your hands. “But yours looks perfect—”

“Does it?” He tilted his head, feigning thought, then shrugged.

“Guess not.”

He didn’t let you argue, just leaned on the counter again like nothing happened. But when the teacher came around, Shin gestured at your dish with a straight face.

“She did most of the work,” he said.

Your chest warmed at the subtle softness in his voice. He didn’t smile, not really, but his eyes flicked toward you for just a second, and that was enough.

Needless to say, your soup might have been salty—but Shin made it feel sweet.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ YOICHI NAGUMO: Together

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, It starts raining, and Nagumo insists on walking Y/N home, holding his umbrella so low that she has to huddle close.

The sky had been gray all day, and by the time the last bell rang, the clouds finally broke. Rain came down in sheets, splattering against the classroom windows.

You stood at the doorway, clutching your bag to your chest, watching students scatter into the downpour with squeals and laughter. Of course—you’d forgotten your umbrella.

“Seriously?” came a voice behind you.

You turned to see Nagumo leaning against the wall, twirling his umbrella in one hand like he had all the time in the world. His smile was lopsided, smug in the way it always was when he caught you in a predicament.

“Don’t tell me you planned to walk home like this...”

“I forgot mine,” you admitted, tugging at your sleeve.

He popped open his umbrella with a flourish, the fabric snapping into place. “Lucky for you, I’m feeling generous today!!” He tilted it toward you, eyebrows raised. “C’mon. I’ll walk you!”

You hesitated, but the rain was only getting heavier. “…Fine.”

The umbrella wasn’t big, and Nagumo seemed to enjoy holding it just low enough that you had no choice but to press close to him. Water splashed against your shoes, the air damp and chilly, but his shoulder brushed yours with every step.

“You could hold it higher,” you muttered.

“I could,” he agreed easily, smirking down at you. “But then you wouldn’t huddle so close, would you?”

Your cheeks warmed instantly. “You’re impossible.”

“Mm, maybe,” he said, eyes gleaming with mischief. “But admit it—you’d be drenched without me!”

You bit your lip, trying not to smile, but he caught the curve of it anyway. He leaned a little closer, voice dropping.

“See? I knew you liked having me around.”

You rolled your eyes, but your hand tightened on your bag strap, heart skipping at how casual he sounded—as if walking home together in the rain was the most natural thing in the world.

By the time you reached your street, the rain hadn’t let up. Nagumo stopped at your gate, spinning the umbrella once more before closing it.

“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, flashing that grin again. Then, almost as an afterthought, “Don’t forget your umbrella next time. Or maybe do. Gives me an excuse.”

And with that, he turned and strolled off into the rain, leaving you standing there with your heart thudding harder than it should have.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ RINTARO SUNA: Surprise

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, Suna remembers Y/N’s birthday when no one else does, in his own quiet way.

Birthdays didn’t matter. At least, that’s what you kept repeating to yourself every time someone walked past you without saying anything. You’d laughed off your friends’ questions last week, shrugged when someone asked if you had plans.

“It’s just another day,” you’d said.

And maybe you almost believed it. Until the final bell rang, and you packed your things in silence, and no one mentioned it at all.

By the time you reached the front gate, you told yourself you were fine. Totally fine.

Then something hit you in the chest. Not hard—more like a soft thunk. You blinked down. A cold bottle of your favorite drink.

“…What the—?”

“Catch better next time.”

You turned, startled, and there he was: Suna Rintarō, standing a few feet away with his hands stuffed in his pockets like he hadn’t just chucked a drink at you.

His expression was unreadable, as always, but his eyes flicked down at the bottle you were holding.

Before you could say anything, he strolled over and dangled a plastic bag in front of your face.

“What’s this?” you asked, peering inside.

It was your favorite snack. The one you always bought after practice, the one you complained about being sold out last week.

Suna didn’t answer right away. He just looked at you, then at the bag, then back at you again—like you should’ve already figured it out. Finally, he muttered, “Don’t get the wrong idea. It’s not a present.”

You raised your brows. “…Not a present?”

“Yeah,” he said flatly, shoving the bag into your hands. “Just… thought you’d whine if nobody remembered. And I didn’t feel like listening to that.”

You stared at him, your chest tightening. “Woah…You remembered?”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “Stop saying it like that. Makes me sound nice.”

You couldn’t help it—you grinned, wide and unrestrained. “Because it is nice, Rin!”

At that, he flicked your forehead lightly.

You laughed, and the sound made him glance away, ears turning faintly pink.

“Come on,�� he said gruffly, starting to walk. “You’re not carrying that bag by yourself. You’ll probably trip or something.”

You jogged to catch up with him, hugging the snacks close. The two of you fell into step together, shoulders brushing now and then.

When a light drizzle started, Suna wordlessly pulled an umbrella from his bag and popped it open. You started to protest, but he tilted it so low over your head that you had to huddle closer to him to fit.

“…You’re doing that on purpose,” you accused, glancing up at him.

“Doing what?” he asked, his voice flat but his smirk giving him away.

“Making me stand this close.”

He tilted the umbrella even lower, smug now. “You’re imagining things.”

You bumped his shoulder with yours, and he let out a quiet chuckle—the kind you rarely heard but always loved.

By the time you reached your house, your chest felt lighter than it had all day. You turned to him, your smile soft. “Thanks for walking me home. And… for this. Really, Rin.”

He paused, eyes flicking to the bag in your arms, then back to you. For a second, he looked like he was going to brush it off again. Instead, he muttered, so quiet you almost missed it, “Happy birthday.”

Your breath caught. “…What was that?”

He immediately shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. “Nothing. You’re hearing things.”

But you caught the faintest upward curve of his lips as he turned to leave, and the warmth spreading through your chest told you exactly what he’d said.

And for the first time all day, you didn’t feel invisible at all.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ MONKEY D. LUFFY: Claw machine champion!

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, Luffy refuses to give up until he wins you the plushie!

The arcade was noisy, bright, and smelled faintly of popcorn. You were ready to give up on the claw machine—you’d already wasted way too many tokens trying to get the same stupid plushie.

“Forget it,” you sighed, stepping back. “It’s rigged.”

But before you could walk away, Luffy bounced forward, eyes sparkling like the stuffed bear inside was the One Piece.

“Move over, Y/N! I’m gonna win it for you!” he declared, dramatically rolling up his sleeves.

You crossed your arms, skeptical. “You? You’ll just waste the rest of my tokens.”

“Don’t worry!” He slapped two tokens in and grabbed the joystick like it was some epic battle. His tongue peeked out in concentration as he maneuvered the claw, muttering to himself, “Left, right… little more… okay, now!”

The claw descended, grabbed the plushie—then dropped it halfway up.

“WHAT??!” Luffy gasped, smacking the glass like the game had personally betrayed him.

You laughed so hard you had to cover your mouth. “Told you it was rigged.”

But Luffy wasn’t giving up. He shoved more tokens in, determined. Again and again, the claw almost had it, then failed.

“Luffy, seriously, it’s fine—”

“No! I’m getting it for you!” he cut you off, voice full of stubborn fire.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the claw clutched the plushie tight and dragged it over to the chute. It dropped with a satisfying thunk.

“YEEESSS!!” Luffy shouted, pumping his fists like he’d just defeated a sea king. He grabbed the bear and shoved it into your arms. “Here, Y/N. It’s yours.”

You blinked down at the soft little bear, hugging it against your chest. “You… really didn’t have to go that far.”

Luffy just grinned, scratching the back of his neck. “Of course I did. You wanted it, right? Then it’s worth it.”

Your heart melted. He said it so easily, like it wasn’t even a question.

“Thanks, Luffy,” you said softly.

He beamed even wider, tilting his head. “Does this mean you’ll buy me cotton candy now?”

You burst out laughing, shaking your head. “Fine. But only because you’re ridiculous.”

The two of you walked off toward the food stalls, your new plush tucked in your arms, and you couldn’t stop smiling.

[lauvsamara]

Hello, I really love your aesthetic writing & I wanna ask can you write Yoichi x crush reader who is introvert, quite and has social anxiety? Like they met in Sakamoto's store and he fell in love with her like that, Thanks💕

━╋ YOICHI NAGUMO: Strawberry milk

(AN: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG... School has been kicking my ass.)

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, a quiet stop at Sakamoto's store turns into somehthing more ^_^

The bell over the door rang too loudly when you walked in. You winced at the sound, shrinking in on yourself as if you could fold away into the shelves. Sakamoto’s store wasn’t big, but it was quieter than anywhere else nearby, and that mattered.

You drifted into the aisles, keeping your eyes low. The shelves were stocked neatly, boxes lined with almost militsry precision. You traced your fingertips along a row of drinks, pretending to consider, though you already knew what you’d pick. Same as last time.

Someone’s gaze prickled at the edge of your awareness.

At the counter, Nagumo leaned against the register like he owned the place. His blazer was undone, his tie loose, posture too casual for someone who was supposed to be “helping” Sakamoto. A bag of chips rested in his hand, unopened, though he wasn’t reading it anymore. His eyes were on you.

When you finally glanced up, he lifted the bag slightly, almost like a wave. “You again.”

“…Me again,” you said quietly.

“Mm.” His mouth curved into a small grin. “Let me guess. Strawberry milk, right?”

You hesitated, your hand hovering over the shelf. “…Yeah.”

Nagumo’s grin tugged a little wider. “Knew it.”

You picked up the carton anyway, tucking it against your side with more finality than the choice deserved.

“Do you ever try anything else?” he asked, almost idly, tearing open the chip bag at last.

“I like this one,” you said, moving past him to set your things on the counter.

He leaned over the register, scanning the carton with a lazy beep. “Fair enough... Loyal customer!”

You placed a few more snacks down. He took his time with them, pressing the buttons like he had nowhere else to be.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” he asked after a moment.

“Uhmm…Not really?”

“Good thing I do, then!” He popped a chip into his mouth, chewing slowly. “Balances out.”

That earned him the smallest laugh under your breath.

His eyes flicked up immediately, sharp but amused. “There it is. Knew you had one.”

You shook your head quickly, looking down at your hands.

Nagumo slid the bag across the counter, then reached over to pluck a pack of gum from the display and dropped it in.

You frowned. “I didn’t—”

“Free sample.” He cut you off, tone casual. “Tell me if it’s any good.”

“…How?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and nudged it across the counter, screen lit up on a blank contact. “Here. Problem solved.”

You blinked. “…Seriously?”

“What?” His grin tilted. “Efficient system!!”

There was a beat of hesitation, but you finally typed in your number and slid the phone back.

“Perfect.” He pocketed it without ceremony. “Now if we’re ever out of strawberry milk, you’ll be the first to know!!”

Needless to say, you left with more than just your usual carton that day.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ RINTARO SUNA: Only mine.

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, all it takes is one classmate leaning too close for Suna's sulky side to come out!

It started at lunch.

You had been sitting with a group of classmates, laughing about something dumb that happened in gym earlier that morning, when one of the guys leaned in a little closer to you than necessary. He had been telling a story, using his hands way too much, and you laughed again—bright, genuine, enough that Suna’s head snapped up from across the cafeteria.

He didn’t like the view.

From where he sat with the volleyball team, he could see the way the guy leaned in toward you, too casual, too familiar. He could see the way you smiled back without noticing how close the other boy had gotten. And he could feel his jaw clench when that guy made you laugh again.

“Rin,” Atsumu drawled, snapping him out of his glare. “Yer starin’ a hole through their table...”

Suna only hummed, not bothering to deny it.

He told himself he wasn’t the type to get jealous. He didn’t see the point—he trusted you. But watching that guy lean closer, watching you grin like that at someone else, made his chest feel uncomfortably tight.

By the time you returned to your usual spot beside him after lunch, he was already slouched low in his seat, arms crossed.

You set your tray down and nudged him lightly with your elbow.

“Hey. What’s with the face?”

“Nothing.” His voice was flat, his eyes glued to his phone.

“Uh-huh...” You frowned. “You look like someone just ran over your dog...”

He flicked his eyes to you for half a second, then back down again. “Just tired.”

You studied him. His shoulders were hunched, his mouth in a little pout he clearly thought he was hiding. And he wasn’t even touching his food.

“Rintarō,” you said softly, leaning into his line of sight. “What’s wrong?”

He met your gaze finally, but only for a second. “…Nothing. You seemed like you were having fun with your new friend.”

Oh.

A laugh slipped out before you could stop it. “Wait—are you jealous?”

His ears went pink instantly. “No.”

“Yes,” you teased, grinning. “You are. Rintarō, you’re pouting!”

“I’m not,” he muttered, tugging his hood lower like that would hide the obvious sulk on his face.

You leaned your chin on your hand, watching him squirm. His sulking was kind of adorable, though you knew better than to say that out loud right away. “You know he was just telling a story, right? He doesn’t even sit near me in class.”

“He was way too close,” Suna mumbled, finally stabbing his fork into his food. “And you were laughing.”

“I laugh with you all the time,” you pointed out, nudging his arm. “You’re just funnier than him.”

That earned you a glance—a quick side-eye, but it was progress.

“And,” you added, lowering your voice just enough for him to hear, “you’re the only one who gets to sit this close to me. So relax, okay?”

For a beat, he stayed quiet, picking at his tray. Then, finally, he leaned against your shoulder, letting his pout melt into a small smirk.

“…Good. Just making sure you remember that.”

You laughed and shifted closer, letting him rest his head comfortably against you. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Maybe,” he drawled, finally stealing a fry off your plate. “But you’re mine.”

And just like that, the sulky, pouty Suna was gone—though the hand he slipped into yours under the table stayed there the rest of lunch, firm and a little too possessive.

Not that you minded.

[lauvsamara]

━╋ YOICHI NAGUMO: Sleeping in class

✴︎ Fluff

✴︎ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡, falling asleep in history class wasn't unusual— but waking up with Nagumo's jacket over your shoulders definitely was!

The history teacher’s voice had the unique ability to drain the energy out of an entire room. Words blended together into a low hum, filling the space like background noise. You’d tried to keep up, pen poised above your notebook, but your eyes grew heavier with every passing minute.

One blink too long turned into two, and before you knew it, your head was tipped against the crook of your arm. The lined pages of your notebook blurred under your cheek, warm sunlight from the window resting lazily against your skin.

The last thing you expected was to wake up to warmth that didn’t belong to you.

Something soft was draped over your shoulders—slightly too big, smelling faintly of soap and peppermint gum.

You blinked, groggy, fingers brushing against the fabric. A jacket. Not yours.

You tilted your head to the side, heart stuttering when you caught Nagumo Yoichi a few desks over, leaning on one hand and pretending to scribble in his notebook.

His other hand tapped his pen against the desk in rhythm, but his gaze flicked toward you for half a second—quick, guilty, like he hadn’t meant to be caught.

Your voice came out in a whisper.

“…This yours?”

He didn’t look up, pen still moving across the page in lazy loops. “No idea what you’re talking about...”

You tugged the sleeve closer, letting the soft material pool in your lap. “Hmm... Really? ’Cause it looks a lot like the one you wear every day.”

Nagumo’s pen stilled. Slowly, he glanced up, an unreadable expression crossing his face before his usual smirk settled in. “You must be dreaming still. Guess you’re really tired, huh???”

You fought the smile tugging at your lips. “So you’re just gonna pretend this magically appeared on me?”

“Maybe.” His voice was quieter this time, like it wasn’t meant to carry beyond your desk. “Or maybe someone didn’t want you freezing while drooling on your notes.”

Your cheeks warmed instantly. “I wasn’t drooling!”

That earned you a quiet laugh, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching like the whole conversation meant nothing. “Whatever you say. Just… keep it for now. You look less miserable in it.”

The words slipped out before you could stop them

“Thanks, Yoichi.”

His name left your lips softer than you intended, and for a moment, he blinked at you like he hadn’t expected it. Then his smirk softened into something smaller—quieter, almost shy.

When the bell rang, everyone rushed out, chairs scraping, footsteps echoing. You folded the jacket carefully, ready to give it back, but Nagumo shook his head when you held it out.

“Keep it,” he said, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “You might… need it again.”

And just like that, he walked out first, leaving you staring down at the fabric in your hands, your heart still thudding against your ribs.

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ ZORO RORONOA: Your side of the bed

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader

જ⁀➴ In which, mornings with Zoro always start late, but somehow end exactly where you want to be … wrapped up in his arms ofc!

Zoro was not a morning person.

Actually, Zoro was barely even a daytime person.

When you woke up, it was already past ten, sunlight pooling across the floorboards, and you could hear the faint sound of traffic outside. What you didn’t hear was movement from the other side of the bed.

Rolling over, you found him exactly where you’d left him last night—flat on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes, hair sticking out in about seven different directions. His phone sat on the nightstand, ignored, buzzing every so often with messages you knew he’d never check until hours later.

“Zoro,” you murmured, poking his shoulder.

A muffled sound came from behind his forearm. “Five more minutes.”

“You said that half an hour ago.”

“Yeah, well…” His voice was rough with sleep, the kind that made your chest warm. “Five more minutes now.”

You sat up, folding your arms. “You’re just trying to avoid helping me with breakfast.”

That got him to open one eye—green and still hazy. “Why would I help when you cook better?”

“That’s not the point.”

He grunted, then reached for you without warning, pulling you back down before you could react. Your back hit the mattress with a soft thump, and suddenly you were tucked under his chin, his arm heavy around your waist.

“You’re warm,” he said simply, already sounding like he was drifting off again.

“You’re impossible,” you replied, but you didn’t pull away.

The quiet stretched between you, broken only by the hum of the city outside. You could feel his breathing slow, the steady rhythm lulling you in, and before long you stopped thinking about breakfast at all.

You realized, as you listened to his heartbeat under your ear, that Zoro wasn’t really avoiding the morning. He was just making sure you stayed in it with him a little longer.

Hi guys sorry for my inactivity on this account, i’ve been on my other blog and i’ve been really out of it tbh, but i’ll later this week ill get all caught up on my request!!

[lauvsamara]

Omg, I love your writing and I really liked the Luffy x mermaid reader fic you put out! I’d also really like to see a Zoro x reader version if possible with the same scenario, but no pressure! I hope you’re doing well, make sure to drink enough water!

────⟢ ZORO RORONOA: Not Yours

(an: sorry this took me so long i hade to do more research on wtf nesting was... BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT ;-;)

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Zoro Roronoa x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 539

જ⁀➴ In which, nesting season turns you into a grumpy, lovesick mess, and Zoro handles it by lying down next to you!

It was pathetic. You knew that.

The towels were bunched wrong, the deck too hot, the rope smelled like salt and someone else’s sweat—but you’d made your nest anyway. Instinct didn’t care if it looked stupid. It just cared that he was nearby.

And Zoro was always nearby.

That was the problem.

You didn’t even flinch when he walked past this time. Just kept your face half-buried in the hoodie you’d stolen from the laundry line. You weren’t even sure it was his. But you sure hoped it was.

He slowed.

Didn’t stop, not really. Just hovered. Like he wasn’t sure if you were dead or just being weird again.

You didn’t look up.

“You good?”

You shrugged deeper into the nest.

Another pause. You could hear him shift his weight.

“It’s hot as hell out here,” he said.

“So go somewhere else.”

“Tch. Grumpy.”

You didn’t answer. What was the point?

There was only so much dignity you could cling to while half-buried in a pile of sunbaked towels, dehydrated from your own feelings.

Zoro shifted again. His shadow angled over your tail.

You waited.

Then—quiet, casual:

“Is this a mermaid thing?”

You gritted your teeth. “Nesting season.”

“Hm.”

You hated that sound. Noncommittal. Like it meant anything. Like he got it.

He didn’t.

He didn’t know what it was like to want something so badly your body rearranged itself around the ache. He didn’t know what it was like to pick someone and be forced to wait—to hope—while they stood five feet away and did absolutely nothing.

You finally glanced up at him. He was still just… standing there. Looking out over the sea like it was a better conversation partner.

“No offense,” you said, voice hoarse, “but can you even swim?”

Zoro raised an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I’ve never seen it,” you said. “You seem like the type to sink out of spite.”

He blinked. “I grew up on an island.”

“So did sea cucumbers.”

That got a laugh. Barely. But it was there. You filed it away for later.

Then, casually, “You picked me?”

You groaned and pulled the hoodie over your face. “Don’t make it weird.”

“You literally nested in my laundry.”

“Again, not confirmed.”

Zoro sat down beside your pile without asking. Not in the nest—just next to it. Elbows on his knees, looking out at the water.

“…You want me to do something about it?” he asked.

You peeked at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged. “I dunno. Swim? Let you bite me or whatever?”

Your tail twitched.

“You’re not supposed to offer to be bitten...” you mumbled.

“So what, I just sit here?”

“Basically.”

Zoro grunted. “Easy.”

You squinted at him. “You’re not weirded out?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because I built a sweaty towel fort with your hoodie and emotionally imprinted on you like a sea duck.”

“Yeah,” he said, laying back against the deck with a yawn, “but that’s not even the weirdest thing you’ve done this week.”

Your heart skipped.

He closed his eyes. “Wake me up if I’m in your way.”

You blinked.

Then grinned into the hoodie, tail flicking once behind you.

Not claimed. Not bitten. Not confessed.

But Zoro didn’t move.

And that was enough. For now.

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ SEISHIRO NAGI: Can you stay a Bit longer?

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Seishiro Nagi x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 397

જ⁀➴ In which, Seishirō Nagi shows up at your door on a rainy day with no umbrella and a quiet excuse

It’s raining when he shows up at your door.

Hair slightly damp, hands stuffed in the pockets of his hoodie, and a vague pout on his lips — as if the sky’s downpour is personally annoying him.

“I forgot my umbrella,” he mumbles, shifting on his feet. “Can I hang out here for a while?”

You blink, then nod, stepping aside to let him in.

He moves past you without much fanfare, toeing off his shoes and flopping onto the couch like he lives here. Which — he sort of does, at this point. Nagi’s been showing up more and more after practice, claiming it’s “too much effort to go home” when you’re closer, your place quieter, warmer.

“Want a towel?” you offer.

“Mm.” He catches it mid-air when you toss one at him, rubbing it lazily through his hair.

You plop down next to him, scrolling idly on your phone while he dries off. The room is quiet except for the sound of rain tapping the windows and the occasional shuffle of Nagi adjusting his position to get more comfortable.

Then—

“I didn’t really forget my umbrella,” he says.

You glance up. “Oh?”

He shrugs. “Just wanted to see you.”

Your heart does a tiny, embarrassing flip.

He says it so plainly — like it’s nothing. Like it’s obvious.

And then, as if realizing he’s said something weird, he rolls onto his side, face squished against the cushion to hide the faint pink dusting his cheeks.

“Is that okay?” he asks, voice muffled.

You laugh — soft, surprised.

“Of course it’s okay, dummy.”

You shift, leaning back against the couch and letting your shoulder brush his. He doesn’t move away. Instead, he nudges closer, head resting against your arm now, eyes fluttering shut.

“You’re warm,” he murmurs.

“So are you.”

Another pause. Another heartbeat in the silence.

Then—

“Can I stay over?”

You look down at him, half-asleep and heavy-lidded, his silver hair a mess and towel slipping off his shoulder.

“…Did you bring a change of clothes?”

“Nope.”

“Then no...”

“‘Tch… stingy.”

But he smiles, even as he closes his eyes again — like he already knew you’d say yes anyway.

And when you let him borrow your hoodie and set out an extra futon later that night, he hums a quiet, content “thanks” that he thinks you don’t hear.

You do.

And you smile.

[lauvsamara]

Can I request a Luffy x Mermaid!Reader who is courting him and wants to swim with him but can't so they go into nesting period and lay on a pile of blankets on the deck while sulking

────⟢ Monkey D. Luffy: Stay in my nest!

(an: SORRY THIS TOOK BE SO LONG I HAD LIKE NO IDEA WHAT NESTING WAS)

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Monkey D. Luffy x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 477

જ⁀➴ In which, you’re stuck nesting on deck, sulking, and Luffy brings you a shiny spoon instead of a love confession.

Not even the cute kind of sulking. Not the kind where your hair was shiny and your pout was adorable and someone came over to cuddle you.

No—this was ugly, blanket-cocoon, tail-splayed, face-mashed-into-fabric sulking. On the deck. In full view of the crew.

Because nesting season had hit.

And you couldn’t even court him properly.

All you wanted was to swim—deep dives, playful spins, maybe circle the ship once or twice and flick your tail at him while he leaned over the railing. Tease him. Splash him. Offer him shiny shells and pretend not to care if he kept them.

But you couldn’t.

Because Luffy couldn’t swim.

And you were stuck on land, overheated, overstimulated, and craving his attention like it was oxygen.

You groaned and buried yourself deeper into your nest—an admittedly dramatic pile of stolen blankets and sunny towels you’d dragged to your favorite corner of the deck. It smelled like salt and citrus. And a little like him.

“Are you dying?”

His voice startled you.

Luffy stood nearby, blinking down at you like you were some strange sea creature that had washed ashore (you kind of were). His hat was tipped back, hands on his hips.

“Go away,” you muttered, tail flopping once, miserably.

“Why?” he asked, crouching beside you. “Did Sanji yell at you again? I told him not to throw away your fish stash—”

“It’s nesting season,” you blurted, face still buried in towel. “I’m supposed to swim and court someone and build a nest and look impressive and offer gifts and do all the normal things—”

You stopped yourself with a strangled sound. “But I can’t. Because the person I want can’t swim. So now I’m stuck. Nesting. Like a soggy dumpling.”

Silence.

You peeked up, cheeks hot. Luffy was still there.

“…What person?” he asked, voice weirdly soft.

You looked away. “You.”

“Oh.”

You blinked. No laughing. No teasing. Just—

“I like when you’re like this,” he said suddenly.

You stared at him.

“All cozy,” he added, plopping down right next to you without warning. “And pouty. You look soft. Kinda like a jellyfish, but cuter.”

You were about to protest when he pulled something from behind his back—a small, wrapped bundle.

“I asked Nami how courting works for you,” he said proudly. “She said I should bring you something shiny.”

He unwrapped it.

A spoon.

Not just any spoon—a bent, slightly tarnished, very shiny spoon!

Your heart did something stupid.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, voice shaky.

Luffy grinned. “But I’m your idiot, right?”

You snorted. Then you laughed. Then you opened the nest and let him in.

“Only if you stay here for a while.”

“I got nowhere else to be,” he said, tucking the spoon into your blanket like it was treasure.

And for once, being stuck on deck didn’t feel like a punishment.

AN: sorry if this isn’t accurate but i really had no idea what nesting was so if it’s not what you wanted JUST TELL ME WNE ILL REDO IT 😛😛

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ TRAFALGAR D. WATER LAW: Just the assistant

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Trafalgar D. Water Law x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 544

જ⁀➴ In which, A minor injury turns into a major win when Law reluctantly patches you up.

You hiss under your breath, pulling your finger back from the stack of medical charts. The thin line blooms red.

“Seriously?” you mutter. “From paperwork?”

Law doesn’t look up from his seat at the desk. “If you’re bleeding out, try not to do it on my notes.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re the doctor. You fix it.”

He finally glances up, clearly unimpressed. “You’re my assistant. You fix it.”

You hold up your finger like a tragic exhibit. “I’m incapacitated.”

Law leans back slightly in his chair, arms crossing over his chest. “You’re being dramatic.”

“It’s gushing,” you say. “I might faint.”

“It’s barely pink.”

You gasp, offended. “Wow. Remind me never to get mortally wounded around you.”

“You wouldn’t last long anyway,” he mutters, pushing up from his chair. “You talk too much to stay stealthy.”

You grin, victorious. “Aha, so you do care.”

“I care about the blood dripping on my floor.”

He retrieves the first aid kit from a cabinet with methodical efficiency, like patching up paper cuts is just another Tuesday on the Polar Tang. You hop up to sit on the exam bed, legs swinging as he approaches.

When he stands in front of you, there’s a quiet moment — the usual hum of the submarine in the background, rain pattering faintly on the outer hull, and the soft rustle of gauze in his hands. His fingers brush yours as he takes your hand, and you try not to overreact.

It’s nothing. Just bandaging. Just Law being Law.

Except he’s surprisingly gentle.

“You really are bleeding,” he mutters, dabbing at your finger.

“Told you,” you whisper.

You feel his eyes on you. Not annoyed. Just quiet. Measuring.

He wraps the bandage slowly, thumb brushing over your knuckle to press it in place. His hand lingers.

“Thanks, Doc,” you say, softer now.

Law exhales through his nose. Almost a laugh, maybe. “You’re welcome.”

You hop down, but don’t step away.

And he doesn’t either.

You're close. Not touching, but close enough that the air feels warmer. His hand is still halfway raised. Yours still tingles from where he held it.

You glance down at your finger, now wrapped in pristine white gauze like some noble war wound.

Then, with the most serious face you can manage, you look up at him.

“So… do I get a lollipop or a sticker?”

Law blinks at you.

Dead silence.

You raise your brows expectantly.

He exhales through his nose — a soft huff, barely there, but the closest thing to a laugh you’ve heard from him all week.

Without a word, he turns, strides back to his desk, rummages through the top drawer… and tosses something over his shoulder.

You catch it on reflex.

A round sticker, slightly crumpled, printed with a cartoon polar bear in a doctor’s coat giving a thumbs-up.

“Great Job!”

You look at the sticker. Then at him.

“You’re kidding.”

“I confiscated it from Bepo,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “Figured you’d earn it first.”

You grin so hard it hurts. “You’re such a softie.”

“Don’t start rumors,” he warns.

You peel the backing off and slap the sticker onto your shirt with pride.

Too late.

The rumor’s already true!

AN: okay i’ll start my request now

[lauvsamara]

Hello! I recently read your pieces where the reader has been isolating their self, and was wondering if you’d be open to doing something similar but with Kidd? Have a good day/night! W(`0`)W

────⟢ EUSTASS KIDD: You’re still my problem

⊹ Fluff, Soft angst

⊹ Eustass Kidd X Fem!Reader

⊹ Word Count: 432

જ⁀➴ In which, After isolating yourself for days, you expect Kidd to ignore it like everyone else. Instead, he barges in, rough edges and all, and reminds you that you don’t have to go through it alone.

You hadn’t been coming out much lately. No morning arguments. No grumbling at Killer. No swiping snacks off the counter when Heat wasn’t looking. No you.

Kidd noticed. Of course he did.

The crew whispered about it, but no one dared say anything to him directly. Not after he barked at Wire for asking if you were sick. Not after he dented the railing when you skipped three meals in a row.

“Leave it,” he’d snapped. But he didn’t.

He didn’t sleep either... Not well, anyway.

The door to your cabin creaked open without a knock. You flinched at the sound, blinking at the sudden light cutting through your dim room.

“You gonna rot in here forever?” Kidd’s voice was gruff, sharp—but quieter than usual.

You didn’t answer. You sat there, back against the wall, blanket pulled to your chest like it could shield you from the world. Your eyes were dull. Swollen. You weren’t crying now, but you had been.

He stepped in and shut the door with a quiet click.

“You’re not eating. You’re not talking. What the hell’s going on with you?”

Still no answer.

That silence, the dead kind, pressed against his ribs like a weight. He wasn’t good at this. Never had been. But damn it, he cared.

“Was it somethin’ I did?” he asked, voice lower now. “Somethin’ I said?”

You shook your head, barely.

“Then talk to me.”

You swallowed. Hard. Your throat ached. “I just… I don’t know. I’ve been tired. Everything feels heavy.”

There it was.

Kidd didn’t move for a long time. You expected him to yell. To scoff. To say something like “Tch. Weak.” But he didn’t.

He walked over.

Dropped to a crouch in front of you.

And without asking, he pulled you forward, roughly, but not unkindly—until your forehead hit his chest with a quiet thump. You froze.

“Should’ve said somethin’,” he muttered, metal arm curling around your back. “You think I wouldn’t give a damn? You think I’d let you sit in here falling apart while I’m out there pretending everything’s fine?”

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. You weren’t crying. Not yet. But your chest cracked open at the sound of his voice, softer now than you’d ever heard it.

“I don’t need you to be okay all the time,” he said. “I just need you here.”

The tears came slowly.

You didn’t sob. Didn’t break. Just leaned into the warmth of him, the solid weight of him. Kidd didn’t move. Didn’t speak again. He just held you.

And for once, you let him.

AN: let’s pretend that i didn’t forget who kidd was… ALSO GUYS YALL SHOULD CHECK OUT MY WATTPAD I WRITE FOR SAKADAYS ON THERE HAHA and if anyone wants to be moots w me let me know hehe

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ ZORO RORONOA: Jealous..?

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Zoro Roronoa X Fem!Reader!

⊹ Word Count: 343

જ⁀➴ In which, you find your swordsman boyfriend sulking and pouting >.<

So what the hell was he doing hovering by the kitchen door?

You were inside with Sanji, leaning against the counter while he diced mangoes like it was some kind of art form. Zoro could hear your laugh from halfway across the damn ship.

And yeah, fine. Your laugh was his favorite sound. But not when Sanji caused it.

Not when Sanji made you lean over like that, hand on his arm like that.

Zoro’s arms were crossed. His jaw was tight. His glare could cut steel.

Still, he said nothing.

You walked out with a bowl of fruit in hand, grinning. “Try this,” you said, holding a piece of pineapple up to his mouth.

He blinked. Then stared at the fruit like it had personally offended him.

You raised an eyebrow. “You don’t even have to move. Just bite.”

He leaned forward, but instead of the pineapple, he bit your fingers. Not hard. Just enough to make you squeak.

“Zoro!”

He chewed with a scowl. “Tastes like flirting.”

You blinked. “It’s literally fruit.”

“From him.”

You squinted. “Are you… jealous?”

“No.”

He said; though, he was obviously jealous

“You’re totally jealous.”

He looked away, mouth twitching. “Didn’t know we were handing out giggles to everyone now.”

“Oh my god.” You set the bowl down and climbed into his lap. “He cut fruit. He didn’t propose.”

Zoro didn’t say anything. Just curled his arms around your waist like he didn’t realize he was doing it.

You kissed his cheek.

“You’re still my favorite swordsman,” you teased.

He huffed.

“And my favorite grump.”

“Tch.”

You leaned in closer, nose brushing his. “And my favorite person.”

That one hit. His arms tightened. His pout finally cracked.

“…He’s still annoying.”

You grinned. “You’re cuter when you admit it.”

“I’m not cute.”

“You’re literally pouting.”

He mumbled something under his breath that might’ve been shut up or might’ve been I love you—you didn’t ask.

You just smiled and fed him another bite of fruit, like nothing had happened.

He chewed this one without protest.

Still scowling, and still yours.

it’s so funny how my account just turned into a mainly one piece page when i was really aiming to become a mostly sakadays page… BUT ANYWAYS clearing out my drafts than i’ll start my request hehe

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ Monkey D. Luffy: Captains hat!

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Monkey D. Luffy x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 409

જ⁀➴ In which, you finally ask the question everyone’s too scared to.

You’d been staring at it for about ten minutes now. Maybe longer.

It wasn’t your fault. The sun was warm, the sea breeze soft, and Luffy was lying next to you on the deck, arms crossed behind his head, eyes half-lidded like he might drift off any second. His hat—that hat—rested peacefully on his chest, the brim rising and falling with each breath.

Your fingers itched.

“Hey, Luffy?”

“Mm?”

You turned on your side, head propped up on your palm. “Can I try on your hat?”

That woke him up. His eyes flew open, body jerking up like you’d asked to borrow his lungs.

“What?” he blinked at you. “No!”

You pouted. “Why not?”

He hugged it to his chest protectively, looking genuinely scandalized. “It’s special!”

You shrugged, trying to look unbothered. “It’s okay. I just thought we were special too.”

That made him freeze.

He stared at you. Then at the hat. Then at you again.

Your gaze dropped, fingers toying with a loose thread on your sleeve. You didn’t really expect him to say yes—it was Luffy’s treasure, after all. He’d gone into actual wars with that thing on his head. It had seen more battles than most people did in a lifetime.

Still… it would’ve been nice.

Then, slowly, you noticed movement. Luffy sat up fully, legs crossed, hands hovering over the rim.

Carefully—like it weighed a thousand memories—he lifted the straw hat off his chest and held it in both hands. For a second, he just looked at it, brows furrowed. Then he glanced back at you.

“…Only for a second,” he mumbled.

You blinked. “Wait, really?”

He nodded once. “But you gotta be careful.”

You sat up fast, heart skipping. “I will!”

He leaned in, eyes focused, and gently—so gently—placed the hat on your head.

It was big. A little crooked. The brim dipped low over your eyes. But it was warm from the sun. And him.

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face.

“How do I look?” you asked, pushing it back a bit so you could see him properly.

Luffy stared.

“…You look really cute,” he said quietly.

You blinked.

His ears turned red.

He cleared his throat and quickly looked away. “But don’t tell the hat I said that.”

You laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Still smiling, you leaned a little closer and whispered like it was a secret just between you and the sea breeze.

“Thanks, Captain!!”

[lauvsamara]

────⟢ RORONOA ZORO: You can sleep here

⊹ Fluff

⊹ Roronoa Zoro x Fem!Reader

⊹ Word count: 328

જ⁀➴ In which, Zoro half-asleep on the training room floor and end up lying beside him.

It was past midnight when you knocked on the door to the training room.

No answer.

You tried again, a little louder this time. “Zoro?”

A grunt.

You pushed the door open and peeked inside. He was lying flat on the floor, shirtless, towel draped over his eyes, sword resting within arm’s reach. His chest rose and fell slow and steady.

“I thought you said you were gonna take a short break,” you said.

“That was short,” he muttered, not moving. “I blinked.”

You stepped inside, barefoot and wrapped in your sleep blanket like a cloak. “Everyone else is asleep. You should be too.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re gonna wake up sore...”

“I’m always sore.”

You plopped down next to him, pulling your knees up to your chest. “You’re bad at resting.”

“I’m good at fighting. That’s what matters.”

“Still bad at resting.”

Silence.

The kind that only happened when Zoro didn’t want to argue, but didn’t want to admit you were right either.

You watched him for a second. The moonlight from the window slanted across his collarbone. His hands were still dusty from training. He smelled like metal and something warm — familiar in a way you didn’t want to think too hard about.

Then he said, voice low, “You cold?”

“Huh?”

“You’re wrapped up like a damn burrito.”

You looked down at your blanket. “I like it.”

Zoro reached out suddenly, slow and casual, fingers brushing your arm. “You can lay down here if you want. Floor’s warm.”

You blinked. “Are you inviting me to nap on the training room floor?”

“You’re already here.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned. “Ur soooo romantic.”

Zoro scoffed, pulling the towel off his face. His hair was damp with sweat. His expression unreadable — half-lazy, half-serious.

“…You don’t have to,” he added. “I just—sleep’s better when…”

He trailed off. Looked away. Didn’t finish.

You laid down beside him without another word.

His shoulder touched yours. Just barely.

And neither of you moved.

AN: If yall couldnr tell i love one piece heh...