#bewitching nami | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

badgerbl00d · 2 years

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one piece boys confessing their feelings

☆ characters: zoro, mihawk

☆ up next: what are we? (law x reader)

☆ a/n: my two favorite swordsmen.. i didn't realize how much i missed writing for zoro so definitely expect more marimo content in upcoming posts. enjoy lovelies!

zoro

“Let’s go fishing, Usopp,” Luffy laughed, “Oi! Zoro! Wanna fish with us? I heard there’s Sea Kings in these waters!”

Zoro waved a hand in Luffy’s direction to dissent, though he wasn’t really paying attention to anything happening around him.

A third bottle of beer found its way into the hands of the scarred swordsman, and was happily chugged within seconds.

His head was buzzing, though not from alcohol.

He was nervous.

He wiped his sweaty palms against his shirt for the umpteenth time that night, trying to work up a sense of courage.

To his satisfaction, no one else had seemed to notice his behavior,

You were flipping through a magazine with Nami, suntanning in the tiniest bikini he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t think straight when you were around and he really needed to- now more than ever.

For weeks now he’d been trying to think of how to admit his feelings to you- a harder feat for him than most.

To completely let down every wall he’d spent years and years building up for even just a moment or two of vulnerability.

He’d come close to telling you several times already, and he was pretty sure he might have let something slip before when he was drunk, leading to more than one awkward morning after. He’d avoid you, beat himself up over it, get drunk again that night to forget anything ever happened, and repeat the night before.

It was a disaster.

“You know,” Sanji had said one particularly awkward morning after- more to himself than Zoro, “You’d have a better shot if you didn’t ignore her completely the morning after a horrendously drunk and half-assed confession.”

Zoro had ignored him and stormed out to cut something in half but his advice- if you could call it that- stuck with him.

So here he was now, looking for a quiet place so he could rehearse what he was going to say.

What did he want to say? He paced back and forth, muttering lines he’d written down from movies or famous love quotes.

“If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” he’d tried, turning towards a mirror to see how he looked.

Absolutely not. You’d definitely read that book.

“You have bewitched me body and soul- No. No way, I’m not saying that.”

He crushed the piece of paper in his fist and opted to take a nap and have a drink, failproof support systems that had yet to fail him.

“I don’t know, Nami,” you said, “I mean he’s been drunk every single time and it’s starting to really piss me off.

It’s like… every time I’m stupid enough to believe it! Even though I know he’s drunk he gets so sincere for a moment or two and says stuff like ‘You're really beautiful you know that?’ or ‘I feel… a connection with you’. And I’m dumb enough to believe it every damn time.”

“And then he ignores you the next day and pretends nothing happened.”

“Yeah. It’s so weird though, ‘cause I swear- it’s like he gets possessed by rationality and calm in the midst of being a drunken idiot and he says these things with such intent! It’s jarring. I mean he goes from a moron to a Jane Austen romantic hero. What the hell is that?”

“I mean, no offense,” Nami started, your stomach churned with dread before she could even continue, “But maybe he’s just.. you know, trying to hook up. Drop some half assed compliments and hope that’s enough to get him laid.”

An uncomfortable feeling of sadness swallowed you whole. You sighed, taking a sip of your drink.

“I know. I don’t think he’s lying about the attraction, but it would save me a lot of grief if he was just straightforward. That way I could just hook up with him and get it over with.”

Nami laughed, “Gross! You know he showers like once a week right?”

“I can fix him,” you said, laughing with her.

The boys had caught a mountain of fish and sea creatures, so Sanji had promised you all a feast.

Brook had started playing before the sun had set and Robin and Franky were dancing.

You played some beer pong with Luffy and Usopp, while Nami helped Sanji in the kitchen.

You loved nights like these, but as much as you wanted to enjoy yourself you knew that with parties and fun came booze.

And with booze came a certain drunken swordsman promising you sweet nothings.

You tried to focus on the game but were getting badly beat.

You walked into the kitchen to sit with Nami who was sipping on a piña colada, special treatment from Sanji, of course.

“Make me one too Sanji-kun! Please,” you asked.

He gladly obliged.

The three of you talked and laughed while Sanji cooked, enjoying the music and sight of the younger boys playing with Chopper.

The kitchen door swung open and in walked Zoro, who had been very clearly napping. His hair was matted in some places and his eyes still carried the sag of someone who’d been involuntarily woken up from a nap.

“Smelled food,” he said, rubbing his eyes.

You finished your drink and got up out of your seat.

“Leaving, Y/n?” Sanji asked.

Zoro turned to look at you, like he was about to say something.

“Uh, yeah, I’m gonna go read for a bit. Thank you for the food!”

Nami shot you a sympathetic look and waved bye to you.

Zoro sighed, not totally oblivious to the timing of his entrance and your departure.

Sanji and Nami glared at him.

He rolled his eyes at them, “I’ll fix it.”

And he walked out to join Luffy.

Amidst the general excitement that had spread itself throughout the crew over the course of the night was Zoro who was making his way toward the crow’s nest, in hopes of finding you.

You were tucked into a corner of the room, reading a book.

Your knees were up on the sofa and you seemed to be nearly asleep.

He felt somewhat guilty interrupting you.

But it was now or never.

He walked in, not saying anything.

You sat up, closing your book.

Your stomach was in a knot.

The swordsman sat next to you, close enough that his knee touched yours.

He was sitting up straighter than usual, and seemed restless, fidgeting with his hands until he finally set his left hand on top of your right one that was resting beside you.

Your eyes widened, you were surprised by this, but didn’t say anything.

“Y/n, can I tell you something? I’ve been meaning to for a while but I- Well, I’ve never done anything like this before so I fucked it up. More than once. So I’m going to fix it right now.”

You nodded hesitantly, caught somewhat off-guard by his unusual behavior.

“I love you.”

Your heart stopped.

Everything around you momentarily stopped as your brain tried to catch up to speed with everything that had just happened.

In an instant you were suddenly hyper-aware of everything- the strong pulse of your heartbeat, the sweat that had gathered on your palms, how you felt suspended in both motion and time as he sat waiting for some kind of response.

But you knew Zoro, and recognized that rosy glow on his cheeks. You knew that when he approached you after midnight with unusual confidence and gusto, on a night when you’d all been celebrating.

How he always sat next to you, closer and closer every time, this time placing his hand on top of yours.

You broke eye contact to look down at your hands.

“I love you, too,” you chose to interpret it as a friendly drunken slip-up, “Make sure you tell everyone else that you love them too, or they’ll get jealous.”

You turned back to your book, trying to ignore the ache in your chest, covering it up with an unconvincing smile.

“No.”

You turned, confused, “N-no?”

“I meant it.”

You didn’t say anything, just stared at him.

“I love you.”

The air around the two of you was completely stagnant, full of tension.

He’d done this before; gotten drunk, been suddenly affectionate and touchy, and then acted completely normal the next day, even ignoring you when you tried to talk to him about it.

You weren’t going to let it happen again.

Scoffing, you brushed him off, moving your hand out from under his.

“You’re drunk,” you said, trying to ignore the disappointment that had started to spread throughout your body, “Why don’t you get some water? Or bread? But don’t do this to me again.”

You got up and placed your book down, ready to make your way to your room and try and forget anything had happened, like he would.

A hand grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

Zoro stood up behind you and turned you around to face him.

“I’m not drunk,” he started, “Last thing I’d want to do is ruin this with some kind of idiotic drunken rant. I-I want to remember this- I want you to remember this!

Everything about this- how damn cold it is up here, what you’re wearing, what I say to you, how it ends, everything.”

His hands were squeezing your shoulders, and his stare was full of an intensity you couldn’t have reciprocated if you tried.

You’d seen him before in battle- swords drawn, back hunched, and eyes settled onto his victim like a hungry animal.

But this was different, it was vulnerable. He was being weak in front of you.

He took a deep breath.

You had never felt so focused in your life, your eyes were intently set on his and your brows furrowed in concentration as you took in everything about this moment.

“I love you! I love you and- and I don’t mean it the way we say it to each other in battle, or as crewmates.

I hate that! I hate calling you my crewmate, my friend, my companion.

You are!

You are, but I hate that that’s all I can call you.

So I came to you to tell you that I love you.

Entirely.”

He brought his hands down to interlace them with yours.

“I love you,” he said again, this time bending down slightly to level his eyesight with yours.

He looked at you with concern, lips slightly parted.

Your breath was shaky and you had unconsciously grabbed onto his forearms to stabilize yourself while you tried to process what was happening.

You stayed silent, your confusion as evident as his desperation.

Another few moments passed with no words exchanged, it felt like the whole world was holding its breath- waiting for you to say anything.

You took a deep breath and swallowed, your mind racing through the millions of different things you wanted to say.

How dare you? Are you serious? I love you too! I never want to talk to you again. I love you too! What happens now?

Zoro’s grip on your shoulders softened and his shoulders sunk. A look of disappointment settled itself onto his stoic features and he let go of you, in a kind of heartbroken acceptance.

He nodded, more to himself than you.

“Goodnight,” he said, walking back out.

“Zoro- Zoro, wait! Wait, please.”

He stopped and turned around- Were those tears in his eyes?

“I love you, too,” you said, in a much calmer tone than expected, “I have since I set foot on this ship, since I first saw you. I love you.”

His eyes widened and he picked you up in his arms, wrapping them around your waist as you sunk into his chest hugging him back with all the force you could muster.

He spun you around, pressing kisses to the top of your head.

You cried into his chest, and felt a tear or two fall onto your forehead when you looked up at him as he finally set you down.

“I thought that- I thought I’d fucked everything up and that-”

Zoro was rambling, his hands holding onto you again, with a grip that reassured you he didn’t want to let go.

You interrupted him by crashing your lips into his, sending him reeling backwards.

He landed on the floor, one arm breaking the fall and the other wrapped around you.

You straddled him and deepened the kiss bringing your hands to rest on his chest as he pulled you closer into his body.

The two of you kissed and kissed, pulling away only when you were desperate for breath, before resuming again.

When you were finally tired enough, you simply sat smiling like idiots at each other.

“I should’ve been honest with you months ago,” Zoro said, bringing a hand up to your face, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek.

You grabbed his forearm, leaning your cheek into his hold.

A smile spread out over your face.

“It’s okay, I knew.”

mihawk

He’d been dreading it for weeks- months, even.

Never in his life did he think that he’d find himself in a position of having to stay on Red Hair’s ship, but here he was. Sat at a table on the deck, an overflowing pint of beer in his hand, and Red Haired pirates laughing and swearing and drinking on all sides of him. And then out of nowhere, there was you.

They told him you’d been part of the crew for 5 months now, a rookie pirate in need of a ship and some stability and had found your way onto the Red Force after winning several games of poker against Shanks.

He’d had an eye on you from the moment you walked out onto the deck, in a pair of deliciously short shorts and a tank top that hugged your curves in the most alluring way he’d ever seen.

You poured yourself a pint and played a game of blackjack with members of the crew whose name’s he didn’t know, or care to know.

He sat with Shanks and the other officers in the crew.

“She’s somethin’, isn’t she?” Shanks asked, laughing as he took note of his friend’s interest in you, much to his evident annoyance.

“I suppose I just didn’t think a woman like that would be on a crew like yours, Red Hair.”

“Neither did we,” Benn chimed in, earning a playful nudge from his captain.

A sudden eruption of noise diverted their attention towards the betting table you were sitting at.

You were smiling, graciously accepting your winnings from your crewmates who were alleging cheating.

“There’s only four jacks in a deck!”

“I saw her hand moving!”

“She was card counting!”

Yasopp laughed and called you over, “Before they start swinging!”

You approached their table, weaving your way toward them through your drunk and rowdy crewmates, before taking a seat next to Mihawk, who was clearly uneasy with your presence.

What was he supposed to do? He felt a strange desire to make a good impression on you, and realized part of him was hoping to form a friendship. His stomach churned at the unusual feeling.

“Didn’t think I’d ever meet a legend like yourself,” you’d said to him, as you extended your hand, “Y/n, pleasure to meet you.

You’re a lot less scary in person! And a lot more handsome.”

You smelled like cherries and whiskey, sweet and addicting.

He took your hand, despite his embarrassment at your compliments and against his better judgment followed up with, “Likewise.”

Shanks whistled, and put his arm around the swordsman’s shoulders, “Never seen you flirt before!”

The table laughed and you asked Benn for a cigarette, bending over to let him light it for you.

“Calm down, Shanks,” you said as you puffed a small cloud of smoke, “No one’s flirting.”

He felt his chest tighten slightly, had you not been flirting? He wasn’t experienced but he figured that you had at least professed some kind of interest.

You turned to look at him and winked.

His chest tightened again.

Lucky had started another card game, and you played as you talked. Mihawk asked about your life before piracy- a story for another time, you’d told him. He talked about details of his life that were unknown even to Shanks- small things like his garden at home, his favorite things to cook, and even certain details of his warlord duties. It was unlike him to share anything with anyone, but the way you stared up at him batting your big doe eyes with a cigarette hanging lazily from your plump glossy lips… he found himself unable to resist the urge to keep you interested in his presence.

The noise of the ship eventually faded into the background, the talking and laughing melting into their own conversations.

Hours passed and eventually music started playing, some other new crew members that had brought their instruments on board with them.

“We finally have some good musicians, don’t we Y/n?” Shanks asked.

“Mhmm,” you replied, looking through your cards barely paying him any attention. You tapped your feet rhythmically against the floor, humming along to the quick paced flamenco melody that was playing.

“Do you dance, swordsman?” you asked, turning to look at Mihawk.

You heard Shanks groan in the background.

“Occasionally.”

You set your cards down, face up, revealing a winning hand. The rest of the table threw their cards down in frustration.

“Will you do me the honors?”

A rare smile settled onto his face. He offered his hand to help you up out of your chair, and you guided him to a more open area on the deck. He placed a hand on your waist, and you took a guilty pleasure in how unyielding his grip was against you. You could feel the pads of each of his fingers holding onto your soft skin, and trailed your hand up to his face, lightly tracing a finger down the side of his neck before resting your hand on his shoulder.

People whistled and clapped.

“Keep up,” you said.

“I’ll try.”

He appreciated your warning, you were like a different person when dancing. The cool, calculated demeanor you adopted when playing cards with your poker face perfected and your breathing steady and even, was completely washed over by a fiery intent to move.

He did struggle to keep up at first, you slipped through his hold like water, your feet moving and landing between and around him like a downpour of rain.

He managed to match your tempo- catch the tail end of your movements and proved a worthy partner, but he didn’t come close to matching your mastery of the art.

By the time the song was finished beads of sweat dripped down his neck, and his heart was pounding loud enough that he could barely hear the cheering coming from the other pirates.

He wanted to give you the credit of wearing someone of his caliber out, he could take on a hundred men and barely increase his heart rate.

This was different though- the beating in his chest, the excitement in his belly, the way his eyes clung to your figure as though attached with string. He couldn’t get enough of you, he inhaled smelling your perfume again.

Another smile settled onto his face, one of satisfaction.

Three week had passed and Mihawk was grabbing the last of his things- a photo of the two of you you’d forced him to take. It was of you pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Shanks lightly knocked on his door.

“Sure you don’t want to stay another week?” he asked, awkwardly standing by the door.

“That’s what you came to ask?”

Shanks rubbed the back of his neck, “No, it’s actually about Y/n.”

This caught his attention.

“What about her?”

“Well,” Shanks walked over to sit on the bed, “I think you should talk to her before you leave, tell her how ya feel.”

“How I… feel? And how exactly do you think I feel?”

“C’mon man, it’s obvious- No offense. The way you two look at each other? You danced with her. In front of people.”

The swordsman scoffed, but didn’t disagree and chose to maintain his silence as he packed the rest of his clothes.

“She likes ya, Hawk-eye. I think you knew that though.

Don’t say anything if you’re gonna hurt her.”

He got up and gave him a friendly pat on the back before heading back out, “We’re headed to a bar right now, so you’ll have the ship to yourself. Take care of her!”

It was unclear whether he was talking about the ship or you.

Mihawk sighed, he adjusted the collar of his loosely fitting white shirt, and set out to find you.

You were in one of the common areas, one of the musicians was showing you how to play the guitar. Plucking at a few strings here and there, you laughed and sang, trying to play a song with your clearly limited ability.

Mihawk stood and watched you for a moment, before clearing his throat.

You turned, smiling when you saw him.

“What do you think? Good enough to dance to?”

He let out a light laugh, “Maybe in ten years.”

You smiled, plucking a few more strings before asking, “What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be packing?”

“I was hoping to speak with you for a moment,” he paused when you stayed put, “Alone.”

Your eyes widened, “Oh! Of course!”

You handed the guitar back to its owner, ignoring the whistles that followed you out of the room.

You took Mihawk’s arm and walked toward the deck, your stomach turning.

You stopped at the railing, leaning over it, trying to take deep breaths of the salty air to calm yourself.

What on Earth could he have to talk to you about? Shanks had promised not to say anything… Could he possibly-

“I’m… very appreciative of your company these past few weeks.

You’re a very intelligent, talented, beautiful woman, and I cannot think of a better companion with whom to have spent my time,” he started, interrupting your train of thought.

You softly smiled, a light breeze dancing around you both.

You said nothing and only looked up at him, unsure of how to pick up from where he left off.

Luckily, he continued, “You… You are a good friend. Of mine, I mean. And I hope that my departure from this ship won’t change our proximity.”

Friend. A dull, warm pain ebbed in your chest.

It wasn’t sharp like a direct rejection would have been, it felt more like a heavy rock had been gently placed right on your heart.

You nodded, looking out toward the ocean when you felt some tears well up in your lash line.

Blinking them away you turned back toward him suddenly emboldened by the memory of how he held you that night when you danced.

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but can I ask if you hold me in any higher regard than that of a friend?”

He was silent. Color rushed to his cheeks and he stared down at you. His eyes were undersold in legend. To say they were hypnotizing was a disservice. They were compelling- when you made eye contact with him your entire being longed to be with him.

“I do.”

You exhaled, tension lifting itself from your shoulders.

“I like you, swordsman,” you gently wrapped your hands around his, bringing his hand up to your chest, placing it against the left side, “I’ll miss dancing with you. Please visit. Please don’t forget me.”

In a sudden motion, Mihawk wrapped you into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around your shoulders as he pressed you into him.

You wiggled your arms free and quickly reciprocated the hug.

You breathed in a long, long inhale, and as you exhaled sunk even further into him.

“I’ll visit,” he promised, “I’ll write. I’ll call- I’ll think of you always. You’re quite unforgettable, you know?”

You laughed and looked up to him as his hold on you softened.

You inched yourself up onto the tips of your toes, hovering your lips just slightly over his.

A smile creeped onto his face, and his hands dispersed across your body, one grabbing onto your ass- something he’d longed to do since the first moment he saw you. The other hand wrapped around your waist to provide you support.

You brought your hands to the collar of his shirt, gently tugging him toward you.

His lips closed around yours, and you deepened the kiss- pulling him closer into you, your tongues swiping at each other as you closed your eyes and indulged.

You inhaled each other- the taste of wine and mint flooding your mouth, the smell of his cologne overwhelming your senses.

The strong grip he had on your ass was so deliciously indulgent.

You let out a soft moan into his mouth before you pulled away from one another.

He tucked some stray hair behind your ears, and you gently wiped some of your gloss from his bottom lip.

“I’ve been waiting for that for weeks now.”

He picked you up, making his way toward your room, peppering your face and neck with kisses and you laughed and kissed him back.

“Let me make it up to you, hermosa.”

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