#shusui x fem reader

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 21

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 6.3k

Chapter rating: NSFW-ish

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16] [17] [18] [19] [20]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3

Chapter 21: Shusui

Roronoa Zoro was already in your forge when you got there. Standing amidst the dancing flames, the heat radiating from the blazing fires was casting flickering shadows on his sweat-dampening skin, emphasizing the hard lines of his physique. For a moment, you couldn’t help but pause, drawn to the raw power exuding from him as he sifted through the array of objects scattered across your workbench.

He picked up one of the kitchen knives you had been crafting a few days prior, his focus intense as he examined the half-finished blade with a critical eye.

"They're for Sanji," you interjected, your voice slicing through the sound of crackling flames as you finally approached him.

His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of irritation passing his stare. “The cook?” He twirled the steel in his fingers absentmindedly. The unpolished metal glinted mesmerizingly before he returned it among the others. “He’s peculiar about his tools.”

You hummed in agreement as you joined his side. “You’re right, it was an unexpected request. I guess he really liked the first one I made.”

A faint scowl flickered across Zoro’s features at your words, his jaw tightening imperceptibly. You watched as his hand reached within the leather bag on the wooden top, taking out a few small black balls of steel.

“Those are for Usopp,” you explained. “We’re working on a prototype together.” Your gaze lingered on his fingers as he rolled and observed the projectiles. You pointed at a black guitar pick and an engraved money clip. “And these are for Brook and Nami. I’m also working on a surgical set for Chopper.” You chuckled before continuing. “Luffy asked for a bracelet and I’m working with Franky for improvements on the ship. Robin still insists on not wanting anything… but I’ll find something.”

He scrutinized you for a moment, a subtle intensity in his gaze as he contemplated something, his fingers lingering on the leather bag as he put back the small spheres into it.

There was a palpable tension in the air as he shifted, settling himself half-sitting on your workbench. “You’ve been busy,” he observed with a hint of stiffness in his voice.

You met his gaze, your eyes tracing the lines of his features, heart skipping a beat at the proximity. It was a rare moment for Zoro to be almost eye-level with you, and the subtle difference in perspective sent a thrill coursing through you.

"I suppose I have," you admitted in response to his observation, you gave a satisfied nod as you looked over the objects.

The heat of the forge swirled around you both. His hand reached out, fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you closer, the sudden movement catching you off guard. You found yourself standing before him, his touch sending a flutter in your stomach as he brought your hand near to his face.

Your breath hitched in your throat as his gaze roamed your hand, his fingers tracing the rougher patches of skin, the tiny scars, the marks of your hard work with a gentle curiosity. You felt a rush of self-consciousness wash over you, a flush creeping into your cheeks as you tried to pull away, but his grip remained firm.

“What about me?” he couldn’t help himself but ask, his eye meeting yours. His voice was low and husky, a hint of something indiscernible lurking in its depths. Was that a hint of jealousy you detected? Or something else entirely?

You met his gaze in a teasing look, your lips quirking up in a smirk. "What about you, swordsman?" you echoed, your tone laced with amusement and a touch of mischief.

Zoro's stare narrowed, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly as he held your eyes, a faint grin tugging at the corners of his lips. The subtle shift in his expression hinted at a challenge, as if he were daring you to continue the path you were going towards.

"You know what I mean," he replied, bringing your palm to his lips in a soft kiss, before moving on to the pads of your fingers, to the healed scars.

Your heartbeat quickened at the intensity of his gaze, the warmth of his breath against your skin was electrifying, igniting a fire within you that blazed at a far higher temperature than the ones of your forge, threatening to consume your senses.

With each gentle caress, you felt yourself surrendering to the magnetic pull between you, drawn inevitably closer to him. A gasp escaped your lips as his lips trailed down toward your wrist, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. He bit at the hem of your long sleeve, dragging it down before placing a soft kiss on your pulse. The sensation was intoxicating.

"You're not going to make this easy, are you?" he muttered against your skin, sending waves of desire crashing over you.

You couldn't help but smile at his words, the teasing shimmer in your eyes mirrored in his. "Right, where would be the fun in that?" you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you leaned into the game you were playing, your free hand going to his jaw, down his jugular.

Zoro's grip on your wrist tightened, his tongue met your skin, followed by a soft bite, his gaze never leaving yours in a silent dare. You whined at the sensation. Your touch descended to his collarbone, to the expanse of flesh visible in his open overcoat. The tips of your fingers traced the scar on his chest before they found the small crescent marks you’d left the night before, almost unnoticeable but definite under your touch.

"Is that a challenge, witch?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that reverberated under your palm, his breath hot against your skin.

Your heart pounded in your chest as his words sent a thrill coursing through you, igniting a fierce desire in your core. With a mischievous look, you leaned in closer, your lips hovering provocatively near his ear.

"What if it is, swordsman?" you whispered, your breath hot against his skin, it was his turn to stiffen subtly beneath you. 

Something akin to a rough moan left him as his hand left yours and went softly to your nape, directing your lips towards his. There was an amused glint in his eye, a contented smirk on his features. “Always so defiant,” he commented hovering at the edge of a kiss.

"Oi! Firecracker, did you see my hammer?" Franky's voice boomed, reverberating through the walls of your forge before he inevitably appeared in the doorway.

You jumped back, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks at the realization of what you were doing. Zoro's frustration was palpable as he let out a low groan, his hands clenching the workbench’s edge until his knuckles turned white, his nails digging into the wooden surface. His head fell back, a muttered curse slipping past his lips, barely audible but laden with exasperation. Something suspiciously resembling ‘this fucking ship’ reached your ears. You weren’t entirely certain if it was an echo of your own thoughts or something the swordsman whispered.

The cyborg stopped in his tracks, his gaze travelling between the two of you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually against the frame of the door. "What were you brats doing?"

You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the suggestive undertone in Franky's question. "Your hammer, Franky? Let me find it…" Your eyes scanned the cluttered workshop, searching for the misplaced tool.

Franky's eyebrows arched in amusement as he pushed further, undeterred by your attempt to redirect the conversation. "Were you guys doing something inappropriate? Should I have knocked first?"

Spotting the damned hammer, you seized the opportunity to change the subject. "The idiot owes me a sword," you replied tersely, your words curt.

Zoro chimed in, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "And the witch is supposed to give me a sword."

"Swords, huh? Sure," Franky drawled, his suggestive tone adding a playful edge to the exchange.

Ignoring Franky's insinuations, you quickly retrieved the hammer and handed it to him with a forced smile. "Here you go, Franky. All set?"

He accepted the tool with a grin, his mechanical fingers wrapping around the handle. "Thanks, Firecracker," he smirked, his eyes darting over to Zoro. “Don’t let me interrupt you brats,” he teased before sauntering out of the forge. His laughter echoed through the space as he left. There was a silence for a moment until you heard the inevitable hearty cackles start again. “Oi, Robin! You won’t believe what I have to tell you.” The words barely reached your ears in the distance, but they still made your eyes roll.

You leaned heavily against the wall, an involuntary groan escaping your lips as you regarded the swordsman. A palpable tension hung in the air, a silent standoff between wills, neither prepared to yield nor acknowledge the unspoken undercurrents swirling between them. Your egos struggled quietly, each refusing to concede an inch of ground in this battle of pride and desire. Your stare oozed with irritation and a hint of a challenge. His smirk widened at your defiance, a playful glint dancing in his gaze as he pushed himself off the workbench, moving with the grace of a predator, swift and purposeful.

The bastard was clearly enjoying this. You couldn't help but inwardly curse as you observed his smug demeanor, a frustrating mix of annoyance and begrudging yearning stirring within you. 

Closing the distance between you with long strides, he exuded an almost suffocating presence. Standing before you, he paused, his hand rising to caress your cheek, the warmth of his touch reigniting the simmering heat in your veins. His thumb brushed gently against your lips, a silent invitation you didn’t take hanging between you.

"So?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched you struggle to gather your thoughts. "What's that new condition you want to add for Yokubari?"

You stumbled over your words for a moment, feeling the weight of his gaze bearing down on you. With a scoff you tried to pass as nonchalant, you pushed him back a step, your hand finding purchase against his chest.

"Right," you began, your voice firm despite the chaos swirling within you. "No unsheathing Yokubari unless we're on solid ground," you declared, moving to fetch the said sword. "And always under my supervision."

You watched his features transform into a confused frown. Watched as his gaze became sharper as he considered your words.

“Why?” He asked finally.

Your expression remained serious as you discussed the sentient blade. “Because I say so,” you replied, your tone unusually firm.

Zoro’s brow furrowed further in frustration at your response, his jaw tightening with barely contained annoyance. “That’s not a reason,” he retorted his voice tinged with impatience.

You shrugged his vexation away, it was a condition on which you refused to back down. “Yokubari is hard to master, consider it a condition for my peace of mind.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, running a hand through his unruly hair in frustration as he stalked to where you were standing with the sword in hand. “Are you underestimating me, witch?” he asked with a note of anger threatening to come out.

It was your turn to frown at his tone. “I think you’re conveniently forgetting how close you came to dying the last time you held it, swordsman,” you said stiffly as you remembered your deadly blunder.

"I was perfectly in contro-" he started to protest, but halted at the look that flashed in your eyes. "Fine," he conceded, his hand reaching to grab Yokubari.

You didn’t release your grip as his fingers wrapped around the hilt, your jaw clenched, a hesitant look in your gaze.

He gave you a quizzical look, sensing the unease emanating from you.

“Promise me you won’t let it change you,” you said under your breath, your voice barely audible over the crackling of the fires.

"Huh?" he responded, his brows furrowing in confusion at your request.

You raised your tone slightly, the urgency clear in your words. “Promise me you won’t let it consume you, that you’ll still be the same person afterwards.

His gaze softened, a hint of understanding dawning in his eye as he studied your face.

"I won't change," he assured you, his voice carrying a note of confidence. Yet, despite his conviction, your anxiety remained unabated, gnawing at the edges of your resolve as you grappled with the idea of leaving Yokubari in someone else's hands.

You gritted your teeth as you remembered the impact it had had on the people who had tried to wield it in the past. You looked up at the swordsman, gauging if you could trust him. Your grip tightened for a moment before you finally let go.

You watched as he clearly itched to unsheathe the blade, his fingers resting on the guard, but he honored your request. Instead he simply added it to the complex array of knots at his side.

“Get used to holding it,” you said, your tone still tight. “You’ll find that it’ll challenge you at the most unexpected moments.” 

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “How so?” he asked as he undid the knots keeping Shusui at his waist. You couldn’t help the chuckle that left your lips as you thought it over, the tension in your shoulders releasing slightly. “Depends if Yokubari likes you or not,” you admitted. “Though this trouble making blade doesn’t tend to like a lot of people.”

He smiled at that, the upcoming challenge something he already relished. He finished taking out Shusui. “So just like you, witch,” he said giving his sword a final casual twirl before handing it to you.

You ignored his taunt, your fingers reaching excitedly towards the legendary blade. You allowed the thoughts of Yokubari to fade to the back of your mind in the presence of the black sheathed blade. He let go, the sword falling in your palms. Your hands fell at the sudden weight, you stumbled forward, your balance shattered.

“It’s so much heavier than I thought,” you said in excited surprise, childlike wonder etched on your face as you looked up at the swordsman.

Zoro couldn’t help but chuckle at your reaction, a fond smile softening his features as he watched you marvel at the sword in your hands.  "Can I watch?" he asked, his gaze curious.

His request caught you off guard. "It might not be very exciting for you," you replied, clearing your workbench, and setting Shusui in the center. "Studying a sword isn't exactly riveting to the observer."

"So? Can I watch?" he stubbornly reiterated, tilting his head slightly as he awaited your response.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his persistence. "Sure, you can watch," you relented, a hint of amusement tugging at the corners of your lips. You grabbed at the roll of linen on the wooden top, your fingers deftly wrapping the cloth around your hair. "After all, it's your sword we're talking about." With a casual shrug, you gestured for him to come closer, inviting him to observe the process of studying Shusui. “I will be taking breaks to temper Sanji’s knives though, do you mind?”

"I don't," he replied, joining you at your side as you set up the tools you’d need for your observations. You waved towards a nearby stool, wordlessly offering him a seat, but he remained standing. "Does it take long?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on the glowing embers of the forge.

"Tempering?" you echoed, moving to place the first knife into the burning charcoal.

"The quenching doesn't take more than a minute, but the blade needs to heat up for around two hours," you clarified, your movements precise and practiced as you worked. “This forge is small, so I can only really do one blade at a time.”

He hummed noncommittally, watching you grab your notebook and a pen as you made your way back to his side.

You sat down, a thrill coursing through you as you let your hand graze along the scabbard. "Did you tie the sageo?" you inquired, your fingers delicately tracing the intricate knots near the guard. The rope was meticulously tied, each loop and twist a testament to the care and precision put into its creation.

You felt him tense behind you, a fleeting moment of uncertainty crossing his features. "I did," he admitted, his voice carrying a rare hint of hesitation, as if unsure how you would react to his admission.

You nodded, a flicker of surprise dancing in your eyes. "It's impressive," you remarked, your tone genuine as you continued to examine the knotwork. "You have a knack for it. The color is nice, it highlights the details of the scabbard well and the knots are precise," you opened your notebook, pen in your mouth as you considered where to start your observations.

He shrugged nonchalantly, though a hint of pride you didn’t see glimmered in his eye at your praise. He crossed his arms, standing tall behind you as he continued to watch your unwavering attention on the sword. “Tell me what you see,” he demanded.

You tossed your head back, the wrappings of your hair brushed slightly over his abdomen in the movement. You regarded him curiously, noting the shift in his eye. “I didn’t know the great Roronoa Zoro was so interested in sword making,” you teased, with a smile. He raised an eyebrow but before he could retort something clever at your taunt, you continued. “Fine, if you’re going to be hovering over me the whole time, you might as well learn something, swordsman.” 

He took an imperceptible step forward as your fingers grazed down the scabbard. Even through the heat of the fires of your forge you could feel the warmth of his body radiating from behind you.

“The saya is rather standard,” you began, your voice steady as you recorded your observations in your notebook. “It appears to be crafted from magnolia wood, which is the typical choice for a katana scabbard.”

With practiced ease, you lifted the sword into your hands, your eyes tracing the intricate details of the handle and guard. “The tsuba is stunning,” you murmured, barely audible above the crackling of the flames, as your gaze lingered on the delicate flower pattern etched into the golden guard. “Its simplicity complements the blade perfectly.”

He leaned in closer, his interest mirroring yours as he followed your examination with rapt attention.

“Silk is an excellent choice for the handle wrapping,” you continued, your voice growing more animated as you delved into the intricacies of the sword’s construction. “Although it lacks the immediate grip of a round cord, the twists provide a secure hold. Additionally, silk gains traction with moisture, making it ideal for use in damp conditions and prolonged periods of use.”

You paused for a moment, taking an expectant breath in as you drew the blade from its scabbard, anticipation tingling in every fiber of your being. As the gleaming metal emerged into the light, your eyes widened in awe, beholding its magnificent form.

"Oh, you beautiful blade," you  breathed out, your voice hushed and reverent, a declaration to the profound admiration you held for the sleek black steel.

You ran your fingertips along the edge, marveling at the smoothness of the grain beneath your touch. Every curve, every line seemed to whisper secrets of its craftsmanship, a testament to the skill and dedication poured into its creation.

The steel beckoned to you, its presence demanding worship from you. A demand which you happily obliged. A smile graced your lips, a silent acknowledgment of the blade’s satisfaction.

With a mixture of curiosity and respect, you extended your senses, allowing your haki to intertwine with the essence of the blade. The black tendrils of your energy danced delicately along its edge, a harmonious exchange between two souls. It was a sensation beyond words, an intoxicating blend of power and finesse that left you momentarily breathless.

Reluctantly, you withdrew, releasing the connection with the blade but retaining the lingering imprint of its presence.

A soft exhale brushed against your neck as the swordsman drew closer, his breath warm against your skin. "What do you see?" he inquired, the question cutting through the reverent silence that enveloped the forge.

Your heart skipped a beat at the proximity of his voice. Instinctively, you leaned back, seeking a clearer view of the blade, only to collide with the solid warmth of his chest.

For a fleeting moment, you froze, caught off guard by the unexpected contact. Yet as you retreated forward, his hand trailed up your arm, finding its place over your heart in an almost tender touch, drawing you back into his embrace.

“What do you see?” he repeated the low timbre of his voice reverberating through your being, his breath warm against your ear.

Despite the quickening of your pulse, your gaze remained ensnared by the allure of the black steel before you. "It's magnificent," you uttered, your index finger tracing the sinuous wavelike pattern adorning the edge. "Flawless, truly."

Zoro responded with a hum of agreement, his eye following your movements with a quiet intensity.

"Do you see the hamon here?" you asked, pointing to the faint purplish line that delineated the transition between the obsidian hue of the blade and the deep red of the wave following the deadly sharp edge.

"The pattern?" Zoro inquired, his curiosity piqued.

"Not precisely," you clarified, your voice tinged with a hint of scholarly enthusiasm. "While the term 'hamon' is often used to refer to the pattern, it specifically denotes this hazy line formed during the hardening process."

As his hand left your heart to join yours against the blade, you continued to explain the intricacies of the forging process.

"To achieve a pattern like this," you elaborated, "layers of clay are meticulously applied and shaped to create the desired design. The application of more or less clay along the blade's spine regulates the cooling rate during the quenching process, allowing the steel to maintain its resilience while showcasing the distinctive pattern. It's a technique that requires precision and expertise, often serving as trademark identifications between swordsmiths."

Zoro listened intently, his gaze locked on the blade as you delved into the details of its creation. 

"And just as I'm tempering knives today," you concluded, "the blade then undergoes heat treatment to achieve the desired balance of hardness and flexibility."

You guided both your hands near the guard. “See how the line doesn’t stop before the tsuba. It means the clay was applied to the entirety of the steel, which makes it less prone to breaking at the hilt but also more flexible. Both techniques offer their pros and cons but they’ll greatly affect how one uses the blade.”

"I see," he murmured, his hand drifting away from yours, its path tracing an intricate pattern along your arm before venturing upward, his movements gentle against the curve of your neck. Meanwhile, you remained engrossed in your note-taking, your focus unwavering despite the tantalizing distraction of his touch.

He waited with quiet patience, his gaze fixed on the pages of your notebook as you diligently transcribed each detail you had just shared. The rhythmic scratching of your pen against the paper joined the sound of crackling flames, a soothing backdrop to the otherwise silent forge.

Suddenly, your head snapped up, a look of realization crossing your features as you remembered the knife heating away in the charcoal. With a gentle yet absentminded motion, you removed his hand from your neck, the warmth of his touch lingering even as you rose to your feet.

His eye followed you with unwavering attention as you approached the glowing steel, your movements fluid and practiced. With a swift yet deliberate maneuver, you retrieved the knife from the searing heat of the forge, the intense orange of the blade casting a soft light across your face.

Without missing a beat, you plunged the heated blade into the waiting oil bath, the sharp hiss of metal meeting liquid echoing through the forge. Your actions were precise, a well-rehearsed dance born from years of experience and dedication to your craft.

Once the blade had cooled, you removed it from the oil, setting it aside with practiced efficiency before turning your attention to the next knife. With a deft hand, you added it to the glowing charcoal, the flames eagerly engulfing the metal as you began the familiar routine once more.

You eased back into your chair, the worn leather embracing you softly as you leaned back, your eyes scanning over the meticulous notes sprawled across the paper.

He leaned closer, his presence looming over you as he rested a hand on the edge of your workbench, his gaze following the movement of your pen with unwavering attention as you added missing specifics. His earrings clinked imperceptibly near your ear, his breath tickling your neck.

"What now?" the swordsman inquired, his voice low as you swiveled to face him.

Your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected closeness, your pulse quickening at the sight of him mere inches away. Every detail of his features seemed to come into sharper focus, from the faint freckles dusting his cheeks to the curve of his lips as they broke into a grin, a mischievous glint dancing in his eye.

You gestured towards the stool, your tone firm as you commanded, "Sit down. You're getting a bit too close for comfort."

“Wouldn’t want that,” he said with a cocky tilt of his head but, still, he complied without protest. He settled onto the seat, his gaze fixed on you with unwavering intensity as he awaited the next step in your observations, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

"Better?" he teased when the silence dragged on, a devilish grin curling at the corners of his lips as he leaned back comfortably.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you couldn't help but return his grin. "Much better," you admitted, amusement lacing your words as you yourself reclined in your chair, the heat of the forge casting a warm glow over the scene.

As he watched you, his gaze gleaming with mischief, you reached behind you to retrieve Shusui. With a fluid motion, you tossed it to him, the blade glinting in the firelight as it spun through the air.

"Show me how your haki interacts with the steel," you instructed, your tone tinged with curiosity.

He caught the blade deftly, his movements smooth and practiced. "Why? Shusui likes you enough for you to use haki with it," he stated casually although the comment was laden with implications.

"I'm well aware that Shusui has taken a liking to me," you remarked proudly, a hint of satisfaction in your voice. "But, right now, I'm more interested in seeing how its rightful owner interacts with it."

His stare narrowed slightly at your confidence towards Shusui, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eye as he regarded you. "Curious, huh?" he said, his words carrying a note of intrigue as he continued to twirl the sword absentmindedly.

You met his gaze head-on as you shrugged nonchalantly. "Call it professional curiosity," you quipped, a smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "After all, understanding the bond between a swordsman and their blade is crucial for crafting the perfect weapon."

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, as he shifted in his seat, the sword held loosely in his grasp. "You're not wrong," he conceded, a hint of admiration underlying his words. With a deft motion, he adjusted his grip on the sword, his focus intensifying as he prepared to demonstrate the connection between himself and Shusui.

You watched with rapt attention as he began to channel his haki, black coating the tips of his fingers before reaching the steel.

You glided your chair closer to him, bending down to look at how the haki interacted with the wave like pattern. “Do that again,” you demanded excitedly, entirely fascinated by the display.

He obliged, time and time again.

“Does it feel different, coating a black blade with haki, compared to a regular blade?” you asked after you took a quick break to temper the second knife.

Zoro paused for a moment, considering your question as he twirled the sword in his hand, the faint aura of haki still lingering around it. "It does," he admitted, his voice tinged with thoughtfulness. "Coating Shusui with haki feels... different. There's a sort of resonance, like the blade comes alive in my hands."

You leaned in closer, captivated by his explanation. "Resonance?" you echoed, your curiosity piqued. "What do you mean?"

He shifted his stance, his grip on the handle tightening slightly as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. "It's hard to explain," he began, his brow furrowing in concentration. "It's like... the haki becomes an extension of the blade itself. The steel feels more responsive, more... in tune with my movements."

You nodded, understanding dawning in your eyes as you absorbed his words. "So, it's not just a matter of coating the steel with haki," you mused, your voice thoughtful. "It's about forging a connection between yourself and the sword, channeling your energy into it."

He hummed in agreement. “What about your haki? How does it feel when you interact with black blades?” he inquired with a cock of his head, handing you Shusui, a silent demand for you to show him.

There was an unmistakable heat in the swordsman’s gaze as he watched you handle his sword, extend your haki along the edge of the steel.

"The interaction between my haki and these blades is almost methodical," you began, your voice carrying a tone of careful explanation. "When permitted by the sword's soul, my haki tends to seek out the core of the blade first, then traverses through its various layers of steel." With deliberate intent, you projected the dark tendrils of your haki through Shusui, each filament tracing the subtle intricacies of the steel with a crackling energy. To the untrained observer, it might appear as random movements, but now that Zoro understood, he could discern the faint traces of the blade's composition.

"This is how I can discern with such precision the techniques employed in crafting each sword," you continued, delving deeper into the explanation. "Yet, there comes a point where it becomes perilous. The haki of a black blade can sometimes begin to demand more, drawing upon my own life force. The interplay, the tug-of-war, is undeniably intoxicating, but it's a risk not worth indulging in," you concluded, releasing your haki as the exhilaration began to prick at the edges of your consciousness. 

You gazed up at him, the remnants of the high still evident in the dilation of your pupils. "Shusui may like me," you admitted, "but it doesn't yield to my will as it does to yours. It truly is a weapon of lethal prowess." 

You turned back to your notes, diligently recording the last of your observations. He leaned on the desk, gaze observing you silently. You eventually closed the notebook with a satisfied sigh before getting up to quench the last knife. When you returned to your desk, you sheathed Shusui in a reverent motion before going to stand before the still seated swordsman.

You returned the sword to him, your gaze lingering on the blade for a moment longer before shifting to meet his eyes. As your fingers released their grip on the hilt, a sudden impulse overtook you, drawing your hand toward the glinting earrings adorning his ear.

He looked up at you, an eyebrow quirked in mild amusement as he felt the gentle brush of your fingertips against his skin. In that moment, you couldn't help but marvel at the raw beauty of the man before you, his features soft yet sharp and defined. Gods, he was pretty.

Your touch traced the outline of his jaw, your thumb coming to rest against his lips in a gesture both tender and provocative. The realization hit you like a bolt of lightning – was this what he saw when he toyed with you? The thought sent a thrill coursing through your veins, igniting a fire in the pit of your stomach that threatened to consume you.

Fuck.

This was intoxicating.

With a boldness born of lust, you pressed your thumb more firmly against his lips, the soft flesh yielding to your exploration. Mischief glinted in his eye as he met your gaze, a silent challenge passing between you. Without hesitation, he complied, parting his lips to allow your fingers entry, his tongue meeting the tips in a tantalizing dance of heat and desire.

You pushed further. A low, guttural sound rumbled from his chest as Shusui clattered to the floor, his hands pulling you to stand in between his legs before they roamed up your thighs, your hips. Fingers wandering under the hem of your shirt, flesh meeting flesh as his hands explored.

You let your fingers fall out of his mouth, dragging heavily against his lips before you moved your hand to the back of his head as you leaned down lips meeting his softly. He let you lead, let you discover at your own pace. You tenderly bit on his lip before deepening the kiss, tongue tangling with his.

You felt his fingers travel up your spine before they left the warmth of your skin to settle on your nape. As the kiss intensified, a primal urgency coursed through your veins, a hunger that demanded to be sated. His hands worked deftly to unravel the bindings of your hair, the locks cascading around you like a waterfall as the band of fabric fell to the ground, forgotten alongside Shusui.

He slowly got up from his seat, his hands finding purchase on your thighs as he lifted you effortlessly. Your legs wrapped around his waist, the heat of his body sending sparks flying through you as he pinned you against the wall.

Breaking the kiss momentarily, his lips trailed a leisurely path from your jaw down to the hollow of your throat before reclaiming yours with a fervor that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands wandered, tracing the contours of his chest, lingering over the rugged terrain of his scar, and exploring the sinewy strength of his shoulders beneath the weight of his overcoat.

A knowing smirk danced across his lips, but you paid it no mind, lost in the electric current that crackled between you. With a newfound determination, he pressed you more firmly against the wall, his body a solid anchor against which you could surrender completely.

With a swift, graceful motion, he shrugged off the confines of his overcoat, the heavy fabric cascading to his waist, held in place only by the belt cinched around his hips. A muffled moan escaped your lips as his hands returned to you, hungrily exploring the expanse of bare skin under your shirt. Each touch was a revelation, igniting a firestorm of sensation, leaving you gasping for breath and begging for more.

As the kiss broke, your gaze met his, the primal desire reflected in your eyes an echo of his own.

Shit, this was a dangerous game you were playing.

This. Whatever this was… it was more than just fucking around.

For a heartbeat, time seemed to stand still as you contemplated the consequences of your actions.

“We should go eat,” your voice sounded distant, as though someone else uttered the words.

His lips lingered on your skin as the words sank in. He pulled away slowly, his gaze studying your face. “You can’t be for real,” he muttered under his breath in disbelief. But as he noted the hint of uncertainty in your eyes, his grip loosened on your body, letting you fall back on your own feet softly.

“Fuck, woman, you’re going to be the death of me,” He groaned, tossing his head back in exasperation.

He took a step away as he observed your bruised lips, your flushed cheeks. He passed a hand in his hair, a heavy sigh escaping him.

You leaned back on the wall, not trusting your knees quite yet. “We should… We should definitely eat,” you repeated, your words still struggling to feel like your own.

He watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before finally nodding. “Yeah, food sounds good,” he agreed.

He stooped down, retrieving Shusui before making his way toward the door, and you followed suit, the weight of the moment still lingering between you. But just as you were about to pass through the doorway, he halted abruptly, his hand gently grasping your arm to halt your progress. Lowering himself to your level, he tenderly pressed a kiss to your forehead.

"Next time, I'm not stopping," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of both promise and warning.

You met his gaze, a playful smirk playing at the corners of your lips. "Who says there'll even be a next time?" you countered, your tone laced with teasing ambiguity as you stepped out onto the deck.

A soft chuckle escaped him, his amusement evident as he followed you. Who were you kidding? Of course there’d be a next time.

"You're impossible," he muttered almost affectionately, shaking his head in exasperation.

As you reached the door leading to the galley, you paused, rising onto your tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

"I'll consider making something for you too, swordsman," you whispered softly, your breath mingling with his before you reluctantly drew back and disappeared into the bustling warmth of the kitchen.

For a moment, he stood there, his composure momentarily shattered as a blush crept up his cheeks. "For fuck's sake," he muttered to himself before finally gathering his resolve and following you inside, the promise of whatever lay ahead hanging tantalizingly in the air.

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Masterlist

[ssailormoonn]

❛ 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 + 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ❜

: ̗̀➛ REQUEST RULES ::

⋆·˚ ༘ * i have a life outside Tumblr aka. requests might take a while depending on motivation. ༊*·˚

𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐄 'I want you to write...', it can come of rude and demanding and I won't nessecarily fuffil your request, I might write your request but there is a high chance I won't. Come of NICE when you request, e.g, 'I was wondering if you could right,' 'could you please write,' etc ༊*·˚

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 for fem!reader (fabr), in most of the thirsts, drabbles, fics and headcanons i write, the troupe will be dom!character x sub!reader unless stated other wise or requested otherwise. I can write for gn!reader x charcater but not anything nsfw, sorry, i just can't write it right.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 :: if gender is not specified in request, i will assume it's a FEM! instert and will write a FEM! insert

I can also write any male x reader nsfw's but ONLY for Heaven Official's blessing and The grandmaster of demonic cultivation !!sorry if you want male x reader for any other fandom, but this is just the fandoms im comfortable writing this troupe with.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 :: I will rarely write a sub!character x dom!reader unless i like the request itself ༊*·˚

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┈➤ fluff, angst, smut, and dark content.

𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐒 ┈➤ cnc, duncon, noncon, being drugged, breeding, baby trapping, daddy kinks, mommy kinks, dd/lg, blood play, weapon play, kidnapping, yandere, coercion/manipulation, god complex, praise, name calling, degradation, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cervix fucking, size kink, age gaps, cockwarming, bondage, biting + more ༊*·˚

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ┈➤ insest, stepcest scat, watersports, vomit, fisting, pedophilia, chastity, drowning, public nudity, gangbangs (no more than a threesome), hypnosis, duct tape mummification, consensual servitude, humiliation, harem boys, prostitution ༊*·˚

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ┈➤ au's!! (i will not write for a character outside that timeline/setting as in the anime. so please refraining from asking me to write a 'modern au' 'collage au' etc. the only exception is making that au within the anime setting, such as; 'character doing this instead of this', like that is that makes sense?) insesct, stepcest ༊*·˚

all characters are depicted to be 18+ and i will not write smut about a minor where there isn't a canon time skip for them ༊*·˚

: ̗̀➛ REQUEST CHARACTERS ::

⋆·˚ ༘ * Hunter X Hunter :: Kurapika Kurta, Leorio Paradinight, Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs, Illumi Zoldyck, Silva Zolcyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor

⋆·˚ ༘ * Berserk :: Griffith, Guts ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Death Note :: Light Yagami, L Lawliet (L), Miheal Kheel (Mello), Mail Jeevas (Matt), Nate Rivers (Near)

⋆·˚ ༘ * Bungo Stray Dogs :: Dazai Osamu, Atsushi Nakajima, Kunikida Doppo, Edogawa Ranpo, Fukuzawa Yukichi, Nakahara Chuuya, Ryunosuke Akutagawa, Dostovesky Fyodor ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Sk8 The Infinity :: Kojiro Nanjo, Reki Kyan, Langa Hasegawa, Kaoru Sakurayashiki, Miya Chinen ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Bleach :: Ichigo Kurosaki, Issin Kurosaki, Jushiro Ukitake, Zaraki Kenpachi, Kuchiki Byakuya, Ichimaru Gin, Urahara Kisuke, Abarai Renji, Shinji Hirako, Kyoraku Shunsui, Aizen Sosuke, Hitsugaya Toshiro, Yumuchika Ayasegawa, Cifer Ulquiorra, Jaegerjaquez Grimmjow, Ishiha Uryu, Ishida Ryuken, Haschwalth Jugram ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Naruto/Boruto :: Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Itachi, Uchiha Madara, Uchiha Obito, Uchiha Shusui, Uzumaki Naruto, Senju Tobirama, Hatake Kakashi, Hyuga Neji, Nara Shikamaru, Jiraya, Otsitsuki Indra, Otsitsuki Ashura, Otsitsuki Momoshiki, Otsitsuki Toneri ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Demon Slayer :: Demon slayers; Kamado Tanjiro, Zenitsu Agatsuma, Tokitō Muichirō, Rengoku Kyōjurō, Tomioka Giyū, Uzui Tengen, Shinazugawa Sanemi, Iguro Obanai, Himejima Gyōmei, Yoriichi Tsugikuni. Demons; Kibutsuji Muzan, Kokushibō | Michikatsu Tsugikuni, Douma, Akaza ༊*·˚

⋆·˚ ༘ * Wind Breaker :: Haruka Sakura, Suo Hayato, Togame Jou, Kaji Ren ༊*·˚

Hunter x Hunter - caught up with the manga and watched the anime

Berserk - completed the 1997 anime, completed the movies and the 2016 seasons, currently reading the manga (up to chapter 260)

Death Note - completed the anime and read the manga

Bungo Stray Dogs - watched the anime and caught up with the manga

Sk8: The Infinity - completed the anime

Bleach - caught up the anime, HAVEN'T read the manga past the newest season

Naruto/ Naruto Shippuden - completed the anime, completed the manga, completed all the movies

Boruto - Completed the Manga (haven't watched the anime) ╰┈➤ Boruto | Blue Vortex - caught up with the manga

Demon Slayer - Caught up with the anime, haven't read the manga past the newest season

Wind Breaker - Caught up with the anime, HAVEN'T read the manga past the new season

Mo Dao Zu Shi - caught up with the Anime, completed the novels

Tian Guan Ci Fu - caught up with the anime, caught up with the Manhua, HAVEN'T read the novels

[not-your-fucking-kacchan]

Just discovered your page and 😍🖤🔥!

If your asks are still going could you write a little piece with Shunsui from bleach? Maybe with a s/o who is more dominant with others in her squad and doesn't hold back, but for him is a bit of a pushover and gets all soft and smitten.

Sorry if that doesn't make sense haha 😅

Ofc! Had to do a lil research for this because I haven't watched bleach in so long lol

But thank you! I'm so glad you liked my bleach stuff! I'm hoping I get more onto the bleach and black clover fandom because as much as I love MHA, I also really love these other animes too, so your encouragement really means a lot <3

Also peep the Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged reference 💀

Masterlist <3

Shunsui x Reader - Headcanons

The very thing that attracted him to you was your attitude and your intensity. He thought you were worth getting to know better because your personality seemed to switch completely when you were at work in comparison to when he would occasionally see you off duty.

You were the complete opposite to him, who just stayed on vacation-mode all the damn time. It was intriguing to see someone so 'model-squad member' - like get so shy and bashful when the adrenaline wears off and the responsibility is gone.

The first time he had seen you in action was like watching Soi Fon lead her squad. You were quiet and deadly, often silencing hollows with fast, overwhelming barrages of attacks from all directions as opposed to being flashy and strong like Kenpachi or Hitsugaya, though you weren't quite as strong as a squad leader yet.

Though when he saw you next, sitting in the shade and laughing with your squamates, he was even more interested than before.

He started hanging out with you more and more since then, and since he was your superior, you couldn't really get away, now could you?

He could never get used to the way that you would easily direct a squad of multiple people to work together perfectly, but every time he spoke to you, you would blush and refused to keep eye contact.

You couldn't even scold him for slacking off so damn much.

He's far too handsome and you're far too smitten to risk getting on his bad side and annoying him by being pushy.

When he walks in on a training session where you lead your fellow squad members, he's deadass got the words knocked out of him as he hears you barking orders and directing the group perfectly, being strict and merciless with them in a way he had never witnessed you act before.

He treats you differently after that. He's a little more teasing, but he definitely listens to you just a little more in fear of being yelled at like that, much like husbands will fear their wives' wrath.

After a while though, he clocks that you're literally a pushover for him, and of course this asshole takes advantage of it.

Cheeky bastard.

You manage to catch him drinking sake on the job once, and he only smiles like an idiot as you rattle his ear off about how unprofessional and irresponsible it is, amused at the way you don't raise your voice at him once. You do yell at him though, when he snorts at your reaction and ruffles your hair.

He just falls in love with you as you scold him.

You're already head over heels though, he's just infuriating sometimes.

He totally manages to convince you to help him with his paperwork, and you can't help but feel a little happy that you're helping him and doing something to make life easier for him.

He knows just how smitten you are when he finally clocks the difference between the way that you treat him in comparison to other squad members and even other captains. He knows you're not a kiss-ass, and you're stubborn as an ox, so why is he so different?

Not to mention your reaction when he flirts with you?? You get sleazed on by other men and it's all "huh? You little ****! You son of a ******* ***** ***** **** ****, I'm going to tear off your ****, and shove it right up your ****** ******* ******** ****, and then **** **** ***** on your **** ******* **** with *** ******* *** in the ***** ******* **** and **** ***** your ******* *** and **** ***** so then you'll have to **** sideways-!" but when he does it (albeit in a slightly more respectful and far less creepy way), you're all blushy and squirmy.

That's the main thing that tips him off, of course. You're just so intense and sometimes downright scary when you have to be, but then when you're with him, it's like having a skittish little puppy around.

Of course, as he confesses that he knows how you feel, and tells you that he feels the same, he's holding your chin and smirking like a little shit, even though he's a good foot taller than you. He knows exactly what he's doing to you, and he fucking thinks it's amusing.

He's grown so protective over you as well- he wouldn't dare pushing his luck with you and making you uncomfortable, or being too difficult for you and stressing you out, and every time he sees that you're upset he's immediately there to make you feel better.

The first time you kiss is something he'll never forget though, especially because of the squad of a moan you released into his mouth when he surprised you like that, and it had him chucking and laughing at you, his chest shaking while you pout and turn away from him, going bright red because of his teasing.

Honestly, he couldn't ask for a better, funnier, kinder, prettier partner, and you were absolutely obsessed with this himbo.

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 14

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 3.4k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9][10][11][12] [13]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 14: A Harmless Lie

Roronoa Zoro had lied. He was fairly certain he could figure out a way for you to wield Sandai Kitetsu without repercussions, but he was far too entertained to ever consider admitting it. Seeing you swing that practice sword awkwardly was fun and he hadn’t had this much fun in years.

His eye lingered a touch too long along the softness of your thighs as he took in your form. Your footwork was wrong, your grip was wrong, it was all wrong. He hadn’t expected much, but this was laughable.

He snorted in amusement.

At first, he had intended to let you struggle, a silent payback for the trouble Shiawase had caused. He had been surprised when you swallowed your pride and asked for help. If he were honest, he had assumed you to be too stubborn to ever consider it. Yet, there you stood, hair gleaming in the sunlight, swinging a practice sword in every wrong way known to man, and he found himself utterly captivated by the sight.

"You suck," he remarked incredulously after witnessing an especially clumsy swing.

Zoro’s soft snort distracted you, the swing you’d been forming falling flat. You winced. This was a bad one, even for you. You knew you weren’t good with a blade, but you’d never had the need to be good. Still, his assessing gaze rattled you, your form worsening with every passing second.

“You suck.” He remarked casually.

You rolled your eyes. “You think I don’t know that?” you asked sarcasm dripping in your voice.

Zoro's smirk only widened at your retort, his amusement evident in the glint of his eye. "Well, you'd think making swords like Shiawase and Yokubari would give you at least a basic understanding of how to handle one," he commented offhandedly, his tone dripping with teasing mockery.

You gritted your teeth, fighting the urge to lash out in frustration. "Handling a sword and crafting one are two entirely different skills," you shot back exasperated. “You wield the legendary Shusui and yet I’m willing to bet you don’t even know the basics of how it was created.” You couldn’t resist adding, your eyes wandering to the sword at his side.

Zoro's expression softened slightly. "Fair enough," he conceded, his tone surprisingly sincere. "But still, you’re a fucking liability for the crew with your lack of skills. Sandai Kitetsu must have been laughing in your face,” he added, with a superior smirk.

Your jaw clenched at the swordsman’s pointed remark, the sting of his words only accentuated by their truthfulness. “Oh, believe me, I’m well aware,” you shot back, voice laced with frustration as you remembered the absence of respect the blade had towards you. “Look here, swordsman,” you started, your gaze locking defiantly with his. “I know I’m not great and I know I’m especially bad at practicing some random forms like that. I don’t fight like it’s a tea ceremony and neither do you.” You explained. “I don’t think Sandai Kitetsu respects this bullshit either.” You added as you gestured at the practice sword and yourself.

Zoro’s smirk widened, confirming your suspicions that he was toying with you. He took a few steps forward, his boots almost touching yours. The proximity forced you to look up into his eyes. “You’re right,” he admitted. “Sandai Kitetsu doesn’t respect this child’s play.” His fingers grazed yours as he lifted the practice sword out of your loose grasp. “But your grip is wrong, and your footwork is even worse,” he remarked.

You compelled yourself to stand still, your pulse quickening at the touch of his fingers, a jolt of electricity coursing down your spine at the subtle rasp in his voice.

Zoro’s scrutiny was unwavering as he searched your eyes for something, his expression a mix of calculation and amusement. “Go get one of your swords,” he said plainly. “Show me how you fight, and we’ll figure the rest out from there.”

You ran to your forge, your heart racing at the implication that you’d be fighting the swordsman. Your eyes landed on your swords. You hesitated for a moment on which to choose. You had half a mind to wield Shiawase, but Yokubari had always been the blade that fit best in your hands. Your fingers settled on the lacquered wood, swiftly lifting it up from its stand before heading back out.

The swordsman was waiting for you, absentmindedly twirling Sandai Kitetsu in his hand in a stunning display of skills. He had shed his overcoat, a sign you’d learnt to understand meant he was taking this endeavor seriously.

“Go easy on me?” You half-joked as you took place in front of him, unsheathing Yokubari and setting the scabbard down at your side.

A scoff escaped Zoro’s lips, his amusement palpable as he regarded you with a raised eyebrow. “Why would I do that, witch?” his voice dripped with mockery, the playful glint in his eye betraying the entertainment he found in the situation. With a self-assured smirk, he readied himself, his stance taut and imposing.

“Oh, fine. Fuck you too, swordsman,” you snapped, before launching yourself forward.

The clash of steel reverberated across the deck, a symphony of metal against metal as you and Zoro engaged in a very one-sided fight. His movements were effortless, each strike executed with calculated precision as he nonchalantly deflected your attacks with a seemingly casual flick of his wrist.

Caught off guard by the sheer fluidity of his motions, you made the mistake of glancing up, only to meet Zoro's bored expression and the lazy smile playing on his lips. Your heart skipped a beat. Your attention faltered. He flicked away your sword, self-satisfaction glinting in his eye.

You gritted your teeth in frustration.

"Again," Zoro declared, his voice commanding as he pointed towards Yokubari with Sandai Kitetsu.

Once more the clash of steel reverberated across the deck as your blades collided. Zoro’s gaze remained steadfast, his stare never wavering as he assessed your every move with a critical eye. “You’re too slow,” he remarked with a hint of disdain, effortlessly parrying each of your strikes with calculated precision.  

A surge of anger came boiling to the surface, mingling dangerously with your haki as it began to seep out in thick long spirals at your feet. Zoro watched the display, his smile shifting into something wicked at the power before him. His haki flared out in kind, coating his sword and matching your intensity.

The next strike of your blades reverberated in the air like a war drum. You lashed out, attacks uncalculated. His eye widened in surprise for a second at the demands your haki required of his.

He laughed.

Oh, this was fun. He was entertained.

“That all you got?” He taunted, his voice laced with mocking amusement.

Your eyes darkened. Fuck fighting fair and square. Red lightning filaments joined inky spirals as anger tapped into the depths of your haki. The swordsman mirrored your actions, green tendrils dancing along his blade.

Your swords hit again, the air thick and demanding around you. You lunged, your foot colliding in his shin in the exact same spot you’d kicked him moments ago. Your haki surged in tow, enhancing the kick’s strength.

He raised an eyebrow at the impact. If he hadn’t blocked it with his own haki, it would have left a fair amount of damage. His smile widened. The way you handled your haki, the way you fought… it was different, unusual… interesting.

He pressed forward, momentarily going into offense, testing your reflexes, overwhelming you with quick swings you barely blocked.

His sword met yours in a crackling display. You knew you were about to lose, exhaustion was accumulating in your muscles. You weren’t built to fight like that, you didn’t have the swordsman’s skills nor endurance. You ducked under the blades, your knee hitting the ground in a bruising way. Your right hand left the pommel of Yokubari bunching up in a fist. The sudden shift in resistance momentarily distracted the swordsman. You punched him as hard as you could in the ribs.

You both winced at the impact.

You got back up, satisfied smile on your lips. Your demise was near but damn that had felt good. He came at you with another swing. Something unsettling glinted in his eye as you tried to match the demands of his sword.

His right hand left Sandai Kitetsu, the intensity of his strikes not faltering. His free hand suddenly bunched at the collar of your shirt. Your balance failed at the unexpected change of tactics from the swordsman, eliciting you to take a step back. His foot, however, was already in place, ready to trip you up. You fell down, the air leaving your lungs as your back hit the wooden deck.

His boot met your core, firmly keeping you pinned.

You tried to move. He increased the pressure.

“Fuck,” you shouted in frustration, looking up at the condescending smile adorning the swordsman’s face. You struggled again against him with no avail.

You stared at him in a standstill of defiance. Satisfaction at your predicament was dripping out of his gaze. He shifted his foot slightly. A strange heat settled in your core. You slumped back in defeat after a final glare.

“Not as bad as I thought,” he conceded, taking his foot off of you once he was pleased with your compliance.

You sat up, breath heaving in exertion. You flipped him off.

Zoro laughed at your petty gesture, the sound echoing across the deck. He extended a hand towards you, offering to help you up.

You eyed his hand warily for a moment before reluctantly accepting it, allowing him to effortlessly pull you to your feet. 

“Like I said, your grip sucks and your footwork is even worse.” He reiterated. “You also rely too much on your haki. And you’re reckless, you leave yourself open” He carried on his observations.

You stood there, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath as Zoro continued his critique. His words stung, but you couldn't deny the truth in them. You had a long way to go before you could even hope to wield a sword that demanded brute force like Sandai Kitetsu.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," you muttered, brushing off his comments with a defiant tilt of your chin. "But at least I managed to land a hit on you, didn't I?"

Zoro chuckled, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he leaned down, unnecessarily close to your face. "You did," he conceded. "But don't let it go to your head. Landing one lucky shot doesn't mean you’ll ever land another one.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to let his words dampen your spirits. "Whatever you say, swordsman, and I got two hits actually" you replied, a hint of defiance lacing your voice.

Zoro's smirk widened at your stubbornness, but there was a glint of something else in his eye. He bent down, fingers grazing your knee, causing you to wince. "You've got potential," he admitted, his tone unexpectedly earnest. "Get Chopper to look at that. We’ll start training tomorrow."

You blinked in surprise at his unusual praise. "Thanks," you said, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I'll uhh.. I’ll do that."

The sun had barely graced the horizon when Roronoa Zoro stormed into your quarters with all the subtlety of a rampaging bull. His boot connected with the foot of your bed, jolting you awake from a blissful slumber. This had become a routine, a relentless cycle of early morning disruptions courtesy of the swordsman. Nami had long since abandoned any hope of maintaining order in the women's quarters when it came to Zoro's persistent intrusions.

"Up," he grumbled, his voice laced with irritation at your habitual tardiness.

You groaned in response, barely coherent in your half-asleep state.

This daily ritual had grown stale. You’d been at this for over a week. The initial shock of being forcibly roused from sleep had long worn off. Now, it was merely an inconvenience, a relentless reminder of the exhausting training sessions that awaited you.

With a resigned sigh, Zoro approached your bed, his patience waning thin. Without another word, he hoisted you up and slung you over his shoulder, a familiar gesture born out of necessity to prevent Nami's inevitable wrath from descending upon both of you.

As Zoro carried you out of the room, his grip sharp against your bare thighs, your protests were nothing more than feeble murmurs against his back. The early morning sunlight filtered through the ship's railings, casting long warm shadows against the deck as you were unceremoniously deposited onto the wooden planks.

"Are you ever going to learn to wake up on time?" Zoro grumbled, his irritation evident in the edge of his voice.

You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, shooting him a disgruntled glare. "Maybe if we didn’t do this at the ass crack of dawn," you retorted, your tone heavy with sarcasm.

Zoro's eye rolled with an air of exasperation, his lips curling into a faint smirk as he watched your defiant stare. "Quit your whining and get your sword," he commanded, his voice laced with a hint of amusement that stirred something deep within you.

With a resigned sigh, you rose to your feet, going to grab your sword in its usual resting place. The familiar weight of the blade in your hand grounded you, anchoring you to the present moment.

A sudden gust of wind tousled your already messy hair, sending a shiver down your spine as the cool breeze caressed your skin. The thin fabric of the shorts and camisole you wore to sleep offered little protection against the chill, leaving you acutely aware of every goosebump that surged on your skin.

Barefoot, you shifted your weight on the smooth wood of the deck, anticipation prickling at your senses as Zoro's sharp gaze bore into you. There was an intensity in his eye that sent a thrill coursing through your veins, a silent challenge that dared you to match his unwavering determination.

His tsk of annoyance drew your attention, and you tensed as he circled behind you, his presence looming close. You could feel the heat of his body radiating against your back, sending a flush of warmth spreading through you despite the cold morning air.

"Your balance is off," he stated matter-of-factly, his voice still rough with sleep as his hand settled firmly between your shoulder blades. A shiver ran down your spine, his touch somehow searing hot against the coolness of your skin.

Before you could react, his booted foot nudged at the inside of your calf, widening your stance with a strong yet gentle pressure. You stumbled backward, a small squeak escaping your throat as you collided with the solid wall of his chest.

The proximity was suffocating, his warm breath ghosting over your neck as you struggled to maintain your composure. Your cheeks flushed crimson with embarrassment, the tension between you palpable as you fought to regain your balance in more ways than one.

Zoro's chest rumbled with a low chuckle, the sound sending vibrations coursing through your body. "You're a mess," he remarked, his voice teasing yet laced with a hint of something more, something you couldn't quite decipher.

You opened your mouth, brows furrowed and ready to argue. His hand pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, a reminder of what you were doing.

"Let's try this again," he almost whispered  in your ear, as he guided you through the motions, his touch leaving sparks flying across your skin. With each adjustment, every correction, the distance between you seemed to narrow until barely space separated your bodies.

You swallowed hard, struggling to push aside the distracting thoughts that threatened to derail your focus. This was training. You could barely stand the man. But the way his hand lingered on your spine, the way his lips almost brushed your neck sent goosebumps down your arms, made it all too difficult to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks.

"Pay attention," he chastised, the rasp in his voice eliciting a shiver in your shoulders. "You're too tense."

His words pulled you back to the present, reminding you of the task before you. With a concerted effort, you forced yourself to relax, to let go of the tension that coiled within you like a tightly wound spring. His presence behind you was both a distraction and a challenge, and you refused to let it best you.

As you adjusted your stance, Zoro's fingers brushed alongst your arms as he tweaked their position. You could sense the heat of his body seeping into yours, igniting a fire that threatened to consume you whole.

"Better," he murmured approvingly, his voice sending a thrill coursing through you. It was a simple word, but coming from him, it somehow felt like a victory.

But before you could revel in the small triumph, Zoro stepped back, breaking the spell that had bound you together. "Again," he said, his tone brisk as he moved to observe you. "And this time, focus."

You repeated the movement.

He sighed.

“Your grip is wrong,” he remarked. “Your upper hand is too tight.”

You loosened your fingers.

He sighed again.

You could feel the irritation bubbling within him start to rub on you.

“Your thumb is positioned all wrong.” He went on to show you with his own grip on Sandai Kitetsu.

It was your turn to sigh in frustration.

His corrections continued as the sun rose higher. The crew slowly waking up and joining to watch the spectacle one by one.

“Your left hand powers the katana, your right hand controls the directions.” He repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. “And squeeze your arms.”

Your brow furrowed at the vague explanations, but you squeezed your arms nonetheless.

“Not like that,” he criticized.

You snapped. “How then, swordsman?”

“Like I said you…” He trailed off, loosely demonstrating the proper posture.

“There’s no way I’d understand that,” you screeched in disbelief. “You suck at explaining!”

Irritation flared in his eye. "Listen here, witch," he began, his voice sharp with annoyance, but before he could continue, Sanji's energetic shout pierced the air, announcing that breakfast was ready.

Bonus scene #1

Nico Robin closed her book, the intrigue unfurling before her far more fascinating than the one unraveling on the pages.

Her observant eyes trailed after you and Zoro with keen interest, noting every subtle movement and gesture. She watched as your posture stiffened slightly when Zoro passed by, and how your grip tightened around the glass of water as you poured yourself a drink.

An elegant eyebrow arched in silent curiosity as Zoro abruptly halted, deliberately positioning himself behind you as he went on to fill his own glass. His proximity seemed unnecessary, fingers brushing against yours as he took the pitcher out of your hands.  A playful smirk danced on his lips, hinting at a private joke Robin couldn't quite decipher. Though she had her theories.

Beside her, Franky took a leisurely sip of cola, his gaze narrowing behind his sunglasses in a mix of scrutiny and suspicion.

Robin couldn't help but muse aloud about the unfolding dynamics between you and the swordsman. "He's definitely enjoying himself," she remarked casually, her tone betraying a touch of humor.

Franky let out a low chuckle. "You caught that too, huh?" he replied, his voice tinged with knowing amusement as he shared in Robin's astute observation.

“He’s toying with her,” she commented, smirk gracing her lips.

“Ever since she gave him that sword,” Franky added.

"I'd argue it dates back to her drunken escapade," Robin retorted.

The cyborg and the archeologist looked at each other, eyes momentarily leaving the display before them, a silent conversation happening through their eyes.

A loud crash brought their attention back to the duo they had been examining. They watched as you tripped on your own feet. Watched as Zoro stumbled backwards, a sheepish grin on his face. Watched, as he passed them, humming to himself with evident satisfaction.

Zoro was singing.

Realization dawned on them.

“I-Is he singing?!” Franky bellowed, obviously shocked.

Robin let out a small, entertained laugh, its clear cheerful din reverberating across the deck. “How interesting,” she observed, mirth in her eyes.

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Masterlist

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 5

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 3.1k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapters [1] [2] [3] [4]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 5: The knife

The gentle caress of the sea breeze tousled your hair as you savored the rich aroma of your morning coffee. You’d woken up unusually early today, the prospect of getting your hands on steel again, to start creating, firing your spirit. Something had shifted in you after that argument, you felt free. No one had admonished either of you for the outburst, laughing and teasing you about it instead. It felt as though they were happy you’d finally let go of your reservations and let your true self peek through. You leaned on the railing of the quarter deck as you observed the activity below you.

Your eyes couldn’t help but follow the shirtless swordsman as he practiced his forms. You may hate the man, but you could see why Sandai Kitetsu had chosen him. It pissed you off to admit it, but you were sure he also had every right to Wado Ichimonji and Shusui. There was a rugged elegance to his movements, raw power that demanded attention. The fluidity and control of his haki coursing through the blades was incredible. You were more than certain he was deadly in a fight.  

“Hey! Asshole! Show me your swords.” You called out to him.

He glanced up at you, a scowl forming on his features at the interruption. “No,” he shouted back.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned further against the railing, your irritation mounting. “Aw, come on. Don’t be such a fucking prick about it.” You retorted, your words laced with frustration.

The swordsman’s only response was his middle finger before he turned back to the movement he was trying to master.

You scoffed. Didn’t matter, you’d decided today was going to be a good day. You pushed yourself away from the railing, heading towards your forge with a spring in your step. The fires had to be hot enough now to get started. You hummed to yourself, smile bright on your face.

The heat of the forge enveloped you like a warm embrace as you stepped into the small workshop aboard the Thousand Sunny. Beads of sweat formed on your brow, a testament to the intense heat radiating from the roaring flames. With a determined expression, you approached your sturdy workbench, where a stack of raw steel awaited your skilled hands.

Your eyes wandered across the multitude of options presented before you. They stopped on a smaller slab, it seemed to call to you. Taking a deep breath, you picked it up. The familiar coolness of the metal felt nice in your palm.

“What will you be?” You asked the bar, eyeing it gently.

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight in your grasp, finding its core, its essence. You turned it a few times in your hands, feeling for its quirks, its personality. You smiled as a picture formed in your mind.

“A knife, huh?” you said to the steel. “You want to be useful, don’t you?” You could honor that. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you a most passionate owner,” you told it, Sanji passing your mind.

You examined the steel more thoroughly. It was mild steel, its low-carbon content would make it perfect for the outer shell of a kitchen knife. You’d still have to reinforce it with a high carbon core to ensure durability over the years. Good. It wouldn’t be too hard, the perfect project to test this new forge.

You donned on your leather apron and gloves, taking a long linen cloth to cover your hair so it didn’t burn at the contact of the imminent sparks that would scatter in the workshop. The steps were now clear in your mind, you wasted no time in getting started, eager to craft a blade worthy of the chef’s culinary skills.

With a steady hand and focused mind, you retrieved a length of high-carbon steel, feeling its weight and potential beneath your fingertips. You immersed it into the searing heat of the fire, precision and purpose in your quick movements. The rhythmic cadence of the flames cast a familiar warm hue on your face as you impatiently waited for the steel to turn from a dull gray to a glowing fiery orange.

When the steel attained the desired temperature, you carefully took it out of the fire, setting it on the anvil with care. Your hand went to the hilt of your hammer, its familiar weight feeling like an extension of your very being. You closed your eyes, letting go of the turmoil of your mind. You took a deep breath in as you drew from the strength of your soul, allowing haki to flow through you, infusing your tool with power. As you exhaled, a sense of calm washed over you, your focus honing to a razor-sharp point.

With a resounding clang, the first strike of your hammer against the hot steel sent a shockwave of power rippling through the air. Sparks erupting in a dazzling display, mingling with the crackling dark spirals of your haki as they danced around you. Each strike was a symphony of strength and skill, the metal yielding beneath the relentless force of your blows.

 Once you were satisfied with the core’s shape, you turned your attention to the mild steel. As you worked, the heat of the forge faded into the background, replaced by a singular focus on the task at hand. Time seemed to blur as you lost yourself in the rhythm of the forge, outside world melting away until only you and the metal remained into existence.

With a final strike on the combined metals, the shape of the knife was complete. It was time to start the grinding process. You allowed your eyes to look out the door momentarily, eyes squinting against the brightness of the midday sun. A tray with a pitcher and some food had been left on a small bench, you realized with a start that you’d missed lunch.

As you devoured the offering hastily, you couldn't help but feel slight anxiety at the hope the cook would like this gift. The scorching heat of the forge brought you back to reality. You were ready to lose yourself in your work again, eager to see how the patterns of the steel would show up as you would grind away the scales that had formed on the surface of the cooled steel. With renewed vigor, you turned your attention back to the knife in progress.

With a flip of a switch, the grinding belt hummed to life, its rhythmic whir echoing in the confined space of the workshop. You took a moment to admire the patterns emerging on the surface of the steel as the scales were meticulously ground away. Each pass revealed the intricate layers, a testament to the fusion of high carbon and mild steel. The blade began to take on a life of its own, its unique design coming to fruition under your skilled hands.

Hours passed, the repetitive sound of grinding becoming a soothing background melody as you lost yourself in the meditative process. The knife, once a mere slab of metal, now started to embody the essence of your craftsmanship. The curves and edges spoke of precision, a harmony born from the dance of the forge.

With the grinding phase completed, you moved on to the critical step of heat-treating the blade. You carefully heated it until it glowed a vibrant red, then plunged it into a quenching oil bath, the sizzle and hiss filling the air. The transformation was underway, the blade evolving from raw potential to sleek excellence.

As the knife cooled, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The next steps involved the delicate processes of polishing and etching, adding the final touches to your creation. The blade was brought to a fine shine, and you meticulously etched a decorative mermaid pattern onto its surface, a subtle yet captivating addition that shined when the light hit it at the perfect angle.

Now, the knife was ready for its handle. You sifted through your collection of materials until you found a rich, dark wood that complemented the elegance of the black blade. With practiced hands, you shaped and polished the handle, ensuring a comfortable grip for its future owner.

The final assembly brought together the blade and handle in a seamless union. You marveled at the completed knife, a fusion of craftsmanship and passion. It held a story within its layers, a narrative of hours spent in the forge, shaping not just steel but a piece of your soul.

As you cleaned and arranged your tools, you noticed the sun beginning to dip below the horizon. The workshop was now bathed in the warm hues of the sunset. You couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment as you wrapped the finished knife in a clean linen cloth. You wondered for a moment if it was too late in the day to present your gift to the cook but the echo of laughter coming from the galley told you otherwise.

Your feet carried you to the door of the kitchen eagerly, anticipation making your hands tremble in the slightest way. You stopped in front of the door gathering your courage as you listened in on the loud conversation.

“Did you see the way (Y/n) was handling that hammer? It was like magic!” Luffy exclaimed, his voice full of excitement.

You shifted awkwardly at the praise.

Usopp chimed in, his tone filled in awe. “Yeah! And did you see the sparks flying everywhere? It was like she was conjuring magic right before our eyes!”

Sanji’s smooth voice drifted through the air. “Ahhh, (Y/n) may have been covered in soot and sweat, but the elegance she was exerting was as captivating as a siren’s song.” He mused.

“I have to admit, I knew you weren’t lying Luffy” Nami said taking a pause to find the right words. “When you said she was impressive, I didn’t doubt it, but I never could have guessed it would be so extraordinary.” She finished, tone stunned in awe.

Your hand stilled on the doorknob, blush heating your cheeks at the words of admiration.

Robin’s gentle laughter followed. “Indeed, she possesses quite the unique ability. Watching her work is delightful.”

Franky’s booming voice resonated next. “I’ve seen my fair share of blacksmiths in action, but none compare to (Y/n)! Our little firecracker’s skills are really SUPER!"

Chopper’s enthusiastic squeal added to the chorus of praise. “I can’t believe how talented (Y/n) is! She’s like a superhero! I wonder what she’s been making.”

You took that as your sign to come in, opening the door.

“Oh! (Y/n)! You’re finally out!” Brook said delighted by your presence.

“You’re just in time for dessert,” Sanji said with a smile.

You cleared your throat. “Uhm actually Sanji, I have something for you.” You said. He turned back to you, curiosity in his eyes. “I really want to thank all of you for taking me on, I just… guess you’re the first person to receive my appreciation.” You continued shyly as you handed him the wrapped blade, apprehension keeping your body taut.

Sanji’s eyes widened as he unwrapped the finely crafted knife. The black blade gleamed in the warm light of the galley, mermaid pattern glowing in a purplish hue. Sanji gave it an expert twirl in his hand, feeling the balance of the blade. The handle, polished to perfection, felt smooth and comfortable in his grasp.

“For me?” Sanji asked, his usual playful demeanor momentarily replaced by genuine surprise. The crew fell silent, their eyes fixed on the knife, its aura demanding all the attention.

“I know you already have amazing knives, but I thought maybe you’d have some space for one more?” You said nervously.

“(Y/n)! This is incredible! I’ve never seen anything like this. Thank you so much!” Sanji exclaimed with a childish smile.

You couldn’t help but smile at his reaction, all tension leaving your shoulders.

“Let me see!” Usopp said excitedly.

“Me too!” Chopper chimed in. Everyone fighting playfully to see your hard work for themselves.

As you settled into your chair, weariness seeped into your bones, a heavy weight after a long day of forging. The lively banter of your crewmates provided a comforting backdrop, but you couldn't shake the sense of exhaustion that washed over you like a tidal wave.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the swordsman's gaze lingering on you, an unknown intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Yet, in your current state of fatigue, you lacked the energy to address the unfamiliar tension. With a resigned sigh, you loosened the bindings of your hair, allowing it to cascade in soft waves over your shoulders, a small act of surrender to the fatigue that engulfed you.

Just as you began to sink into the solace of relaxation, Nami's voice pierced through the tranquility of your mind, jolting you back to the present. "By the way, (Y/n)," She said. "We've spotted the next island today. We'll probably make a stop tomorrow, but it looks like a Navy base," she informed you, her tone laced with a hint of concern. "We're getting pretty low on food, so we'll have to steal some from them. The whole routine is pretty standard to us, but we were wondering... Do you know how to fight?" She asked.

Her question hung in the air, casting a sobering shadow over the jovial atmosphere. It was a stark reminder of the choices you’d taken. And yet, amidst the uncertainty, there was a glimmer of trust in her inquiry, a silent acknowledgment of your role within the crew.

You paused, considering her words carefully. “I’m not a fighter, if that’s what you’re asking.” You said. “But I know how to defend myself.”

“Good! We’ll add you in the roster then!” She responded. “We usually let chance pick the different teams for those missions, so don’t worry too much about it! You might even get to stay on the ship!” She smiled at you.

You smiled back. A navy base, huh? That would prove interesting.

Roronoa Zoro couldn’t help the irritation stirring within him as the shitty cook unveiled the knife. His brows furrowed as he watched the genuine expression of delight on the chef’s face as the man twirled the blade skillfully in his hand.

He scoffed inwardly at the display. The blade was black, haki infused. His fingers twitched. He hated to admit it but how he longed to hold the blade. He shifted uncomfortably, his scowl deepening at the excitement around him. His gaze wandered to the door, contemplating slipping away unnoticed.

But then, his eyes landed on you.

There you stood, a faint smile playing on your lips as you watched Sanji’s reaction with a mixture of relief and nervousness. Your hair was wrapped in a white linen cloth, soft strands had escaped the confines of the binding, opting to cling to your sweat covered skin. A soft blush of happiness adorned your rosy cheeks mixed with streaks of ashes. You hadn’t really bothered cleaning up before coming in, your eagerness to give the knife surpassing all else. Your eyes met his briefly as you let the bindings of your hair go. Zoro couldn’t help the strange flutter in his chest, a strange sensation he couldn’t quite place. His irritation redoubled, ready to fight. You were lost in a conversation with Nami.

With a scowl Zoro stood up, grabbed a random bottle of booze, and escaped the cheerful ambiance of the galley for his usual peaceful nook in the crow’s nest.

That morning, they had all been surprised as the first clank of your hammer against steel had resonated in the air. A wave of energy had coursed through their bodies, Zoro’s concentration shattered instantly. The air had felt thick, the wind had halted, it was as though time had stopped. Then your hammer had hit steel once again and existence had resumed.

He had been caught so off guard by the display of power that he hadn’t been able to get his concentration back for the rest of the day. He’d sheathed his swords and headed to the crow’s nest with every intention of sleeping the day away. But like everyone else he hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to observe you in your mastery. His eyes had remained glued to your form, observing you from high up.

With a frustrated groan, Zoro took a swig from the bottle of booze he’d taken with him. The familiar sharp bite of the alcohol burning his throat in a comforting manner. He leaned back against the railing, his gaze fixed on the twilight sky as he attempted to push aside the turmoil of his thoughts.

The wind ruffled his short hair as he attempted to draw out his haki, trying to mirror the way you inexplicably had done earlier in the day.

“Damn it,” He muttered under his breath as he let go in failure, taking another swig out of the bottle as if to drown out his thoughts.

But try as he might, he couldn’t shake the image of you standing there amidst the chaos of the forge, soft strands of hair plastered against your neck, face streaked with sweat and ashes. The raw power dancing around you had been mesmerizing.

Zoro watched as one by one, the crew went to bed. He itched to see the knife for himself.

Giving in to the temptation, he entered the kitchen. His gaze immediately caught the knife. The black blade glinted in the soft light of the moon. As he approached, he could feel the subtle hum of haki emanating from the metal. His hand hesitated momentarily before picking it up.

His rough fingers traced the edge of the blade, the smoothness of the black steel beneath his touch sending a shiver down his spine. For a moment he was lost in the intricate patterns etched on its surface, the mermaid design captivating his attention. He gave it a hesitant twirl. Once. Twice. The balance was stunning, the sharpness of the edge deadly. It was a blade born not just from skill but from passion, a fact that irked him more than he cared to admit. He let his hand clench around the handle of the knife. The shape was perfect, it felt like an extension of his arm.

“It’s a stunning blade, isn’t it?” Robin’s voice shattered the silence.

He let go of the knife in surprise. The clank as it fell back down on the counter, loud in the stillness of the night.

“It is,” he admitted turning to face her.

“Sanji’s a lucky man,” she said with a soft smile, taunting him.

He didn’t answer.

Robin rolled her eyes at his stubbornness.

“Why don’t you let her look at your swords?” She asked as he was about to pass her. Zoro stopped in his tracks. “None, of your business,” he snapped, irritation lacing his words as he left the galley.

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Masterlist

[macbethsymphony]

The Swordsman and the Blacksmith | Chapter 2

Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Chapter wc: 3.2k

Chapter rating: SFW

Content/Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Fem!Reader, Enemies to lovers, SLOW slow burn, Eventual smut

Summary: Your skills as a blacksmith have made you desirable to both the government and pirates. You know you have to leave this island if you want to escape your fate, but that doesn't make the choice of leaving any easier. Roronoa Zoro is intrigued by your skills as a blacksmith. Your work is like nothing he's ever seen before. Unfortunately, you're hot-headed and he's rude and you both definitely hate each other.

Chapter [1]

Masterlist

Slowly crossposting from AO3 Feel like binging the rest of it? it's all there!

Chapter 2: Join my crew!

Nothing could have prepared Roronoa Zoro for what he was about to witness. He wasn’t sure what he’d imagined when he’d heard about the blacksmith woman. Maybe something along the lines of tall and muscular. Someone a little gruff in attitude, rough at the edges. Someone a little older, stern, dedicated to their craft. Someone a little like that old man from his childhood. Well, anything but the woman who was standing before him he guessed.

Here was the witch, so many had warned him about the night before. Small in stature, chubby cheeked and hammering steel with the intensity of a demon. A scowl adorned the otherwise soft features of her face, plump lips muttering something inaudible through the sounds of the forge. What shocked Zoro was not the disparity of his imagination to the reality before him but the sheer display of power present before him.

Dark spirals buzzing with red filaments flowed around the woman in an eerie spectacle. The air was thick, hard to breathe in, and it wasn’t because of the heat of the fires. It felt as though the weight of gravity had doubled and yet, the hair of the blacksmith seemed to float in some kind of wind, flowing in an unnatural underwater-like movement. The woman’s gaze didn’t shift from her work, not registering their presence. The block of steel she was working was the same familiar black as Shusui. It was clearly infused with haki. But everything he knew told him that should be impossible. What in the hells was he seeing? His breath hitched in awe for a second. This display of power… it looked right out of a fairy tale illustration. The control she exerted. It was beautiful. Luffy was just as speechless as he was, beads of sweat forming under the rim of his straw hat.

Zoro took a step forward, standing next to his captain. The air crackled, the tyranny of the aura surrounding the woman doubling in intensity as proximity increased. He suddenly had a hard time regulating his breaths, sweat forming on his brow. Deep down he knew this was haki. He knew this wasn’t some mythical demonstration of power. But rationality had no place in his mind right now. A witch. Magic. It was the only way he could describe the manifestation of raw power this woman was conjuring.

“I’ll wait outside,” Robin said blood slowly draining from her face. Zoro grunted, unable to peel his eyes of from the woman.

“Is that? Is that conqueror’s haki? Armament haki? I can’t tell.” Luffy pondered in amazement. Zoro wondered the same, the questions he’d had multiplying.

The blacksmith’s relentless hammering continued, still oblivious to their presence. Each strike reverberated through the air with the intensity of a war drum. Thumps carrying hypnotizing waves of raw energy that hummed right through their bodies. Luffy, ever the curious fool, took a step closer, his eyes wide with wonder. Despite the oppressive aura emanating from the woman’s presence, he couldn’t contain his fascination with the incredible mastery of haki presented before him. The pirate captain reached out a hand, drawn to the block of steel being forged before him.  Every cell in Zoro was telling him that this situation was dangerous. He quickly grabbed his captain’s collar dragging him back.

“Oi! Luff-” Zoro started.

“Hey! Witch!” Luffy cut him off, unable to restrain his excitement. “What kind of haki are you using? It’s amazing!”

Her strike halted midair, hammer dropping with a loud clang to the floor. The clear surprise on her features didn’t last long, her previous scowl returning with a vengeance.

“Huh?” She shouted. “Witch?” her tone was almost indignant. Crackling red followed her eyes, leaving a faint line in the air as her gaze settled on them. Zoro couldn’t help the flinch in his shoulders at the pure look of rage directed to him. Abrasive had been an understatement.  This woman was clearly insane. The red and black energy intensified, seemingly matching the intensity of the woman’s anger. “The fuck did you just call me?” She shrieked, taking a step forward.

“Ah! Sorry, sorry” Luffy rubbed his neck sheepishly. “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, the man who’s going to become king of the pirates. And this is Zoro, the man who’s going to become the greatest swordsman in the world,” he continued completely oblivious to the situation. “You’re the witch, right? The one they speak about in town? You should join my crew!”

The scowl on her face deepened at that last part, clearly hitting a sensitive nerve. Zoro twitched at his captain’s antics. They didn’t know this woman. No way he’d let her join just like that.

“Your crew? The fuck are you pirates doing barging in MY workshop anyways?” she asked, hand moving towards a knife at her belt. The movement didn’t escape Zoro’s eye. His stance widened, hand reaching towards his swords, ready for a fight.

“(Y/n)! That’s enough!” The woman from outside barked, quick strides carrying her in front of him and Luffy in a protective stance.  Zoro’s hand froze on the hilt of his sword, eye not leaving the blacksmith’s form. “This tantrum of yours needs to stop. NOW! (Y/n)!” she pleaded to the blacksmith before turning to Luffy. “And you. You,” she started indignantly, her index poking the rubber man in the chest repeatedly as she tried to find the words she wanted to say. “I literally told you not to get in here. Show an ounce of respect, would you?” She chastised.

Zoro watched as the small woman took in a deep breath, visibly calming herself down. A look of guilt passed through her eyes before they dropped to the floor in embarrassment.  The heaviness in the air dissipated quickly, black spirals disappearing into thin air as if they had been an illusion. She took off her leather apron, letting it fall to the ground before quickly stepping past them and out of the building. He watched as she disappeared through the trees. With her presence gone, he lets his hand drift away from the hilt of his sword, stance relaxing.

Luffy grinned at the taller woman lecturing him, seemingly unfazed by the recent events. “My bad! Maly” he exclaimed, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“It’s Mary! M-a-r-y” she corrected him in annoyance.  Luffy laughed.

“Luffy, Zoro” Robin, kicked in, clearly uncomfortable with the events that just transpired. “Should we get going?”

“Ehhh, already?” Luffy complained. “But, we just got here,” he kicked his foot in the dust, pouting, clearly having absolutely no intention of leaving.

The woman named Mary sighed. “Would you like some tea? We don’t have much, but I made cookies this morning. If you’d like some before going on your way back, you’re welcome to stay for a while. After all you’ve trekked all the way here, just for this to happen,” she gestured to the surroundings with her hands.

Mary's offer of food seemed to brighten Luffy's spirits instantly. His eyes lit up with excitement, and he nodded vigorously, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Cookies sound great! Thanks, Mady!" The woman groaned at her name being butchered once again.

As she led them into a makeshift living space, the atmosphere shifted from the darkness of the forge to a warm, cozy environment. Fresh flowers were scattered all over the room, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafted through the air, and a plate of cookies sat invitingly on the table. Mary gestured for them to sit, and Luffy wasted no time, grabbing a handful of cookies and shoving them into his mouth. Robin smiled politely as she took a sip out of the cup presented to her.

Zoro stayed standing. He couldn’t help but remain alert, his eyes scanning the surroundings. He half-expected another unexpected turn of events, a rage induced return of the blacksmith girl. He wasn't one to easily trust the calm that followed a storm, especially when it came to powerful and unpredictable encounters like just now.

Mary took a seat across from them, her eyes glancing towards the door as her gaze followed Zoro’s eye. "I apologize for (Y/n)'s behavior,” she said, pouring herself a cup of tea. “My sister's passionate about her work and doesn't take kindly to uninvited guests, still this was heavily uncalled for on her part," she continued, pouring tea into her own cup. “She’s just on edge these days,” her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “She’s not usually like that,” she added under her breath, a whisper barely perceptible they all heard.

Luffy, momentarily paused in his cookie feast, looking genuinely curious. "These days?” he asked at the same time as Robin.

Her gaze dropped down to the cup in her hands, thumb rubbing the edge in a soothing movement. “We’ve had quite a few unwelcome visitors, these past few months,” she explained, gaze filled with sadness. “(Y/n) has to take a decision she doesn’t want to take, you see. It’s been keeping her on edge for the past weeks.”

“Visitors?” Robin inquired, voice calm, encouraging the woman to speak on.

“I’m not sure I should be telling you this” she mumbled, tears starting to fill her eyes. The woman’s hesitation was palpable, the weight on her shoulders threatening to crush her at any moment.

Zoro sighed. Another sob story. He honestly wasn’t really interested in getting involved in whatever was happening here. He leaned down to take a cookie, listening from one ear as he decided to explore the surroundings instead. The small black iron objects littered all over the room seemed far more interesting to him than the conversation that was happening in the background.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, (Y/n)’s skills with steel are somewhat special” Mary explained. “These past few months, both the government and pirates have been showing up demanding she joins them.”

Zoro picked up a small letter opener. The black blade felt strange in his hands, as though the object had a soul of its own. He twirled it absentmindedly in his fingers as he continued his tour of the small room. The balance of the blade was immaculate. He couldn’t help the little smile of satisfaction that donned his lips at the well-crafted blade.

“It’s been taking a toll on her,” Mary carried on. “The constant threats, the demands – It’s pushing her to a breaking point. At first it was nobodies, but ever since that admiral and that Yonko visited, she’s been afraid of the consequences her choices might have on us all.” Her hands dropped to her knees, fingers fiddling with the ruffle of her dress.

“A Yonko came here?” Luffy couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes,” she answered softly. “Red-haired Shanks… He’s not a bad ma-”

“Shanks was here??” Luffy cut her off, incredulous. “Woah, she must be really special,” he mused.

Zoro’s eye settled on a pair of daggers. Even from afar the craftsmanship looked beautiful. He picked one up. He’d been right, flawless balance once again. As he put the dagger back, he noticed a wanted poster.

“Oi! This can’t be for real,” he couldn’t help but turn back to the conversation, poster in hand.

Luffy sauntered over, ever so curious.

“1 billion berries!” he screamed, snatching the poster from Zoro’s hand.

“Yes” Mary answered sadly.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Robin began, a soft frown on her brow. “The way your sister imbues steel with haki is certainly impressive, but it can’t be the only reason the government wants her so badly.”

“You have good instincts,” Mary responded. “It’s… complicated,” She admitted, voice quivering slightly. “You’re right, her ability to infuse haki with steel is impressive but not as impressive as the strength of the weapons she crafts,” her gaze went to a sword mounted over the mantle of the fireplace.  “Those swords,” she clarified, “you could say they have a will of their own. The power they give their owner is immeasurable,” she paused. “But in the wrong hands, they’ve also made people go mad,” she finished a dark look in her eyes.

Mad? Zoro was intrigued.

You’d been standing outside the door for a while now. At first, you’d thought you’d hide and wait until they’d left to come back in but they’d been talking for a while now. Listening to your sister’s worries broke your heart. All your life you’d done everything you could to shield her from the burdens you had to carry. Your talent came with a price, you knew that. But it was yours to pay, not hers. The both of you had already had to run from island to island ever since your childhood to make sure you were safe. You didn’t want to impose this level of uncertainty to her ever again. This island had been a haven you’d never imagined you could have. And yet. Yet, your selfishness to create had shattered this peace. Your greediness had not only failed to keep her safe, but you’d endangered everyone who had welcomed you here.  Your heart shattered in a million pieces as you heard her explain the situation.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped back into the room. Your gaze met the curious stares of the boy and woman sitting at the table. You then spotted the taller man reaching for one of the swords mounted above your fireplace.

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, swordsman,” your tone was sharp, the warning clear in it. His movement halted. “The last idiot who tried to unsheathe this one almost lost his one remaining arm to it.” You added as matter of fact.

“What?” He asked incredulously.

You rolled your eyes. Was he fucking dumb or something? You’d literally just explained. “You’ll lose your arm,” you repeated. “You’re too weak for this one,” You stated. His stance shifted a little, frown furrowing his brow.

The tension in the room was palpable as your words hung in the air. The swordsman's gaze narrowed as he regarded you, his hand slowly retracting from the sword as if realizing the gravity of your warning.

"Too weak, huh?" he muttered, his voice low and dangerous.

You didn't flinch at his tone, holding his gaze steadily. "It's not about physical strength," you replied evenly. "These swords have a will of their own. They choose their wielders. And trust me, this one has a particular dislike for those who aren't worthy."

The swordsman's expression hardened, his jaw clenched as he absorbed your words. Beside him, the pirate captain shifted in his seat, clearly wanting to say something.

"Zoro, let's not start a fight," the woman interjected, her voice calm but firm. "We're guests here, remember?"

The swordsman, Zoro, glanced briefly at her before turning his attention back to you, his gaze still sharp. "Fine," he grumbled, reluctantly backing away from the sword.

Your eyes shifted back to the table. You sighed as you took a seat next to your sister. You weren’t so good with words. “I’m sorry,” you said simply. You felt your sister’s hand on yours, encouraging you to continue. “What happened earlier. It was uncalled for on my part. I apologize.” you blurted out with gritted teeth.

Mary’s expression softened as she looked at you, her eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and relief. “Thank you, (Y/n),” she whispered gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry about it,” the woman in front of you said. “I’m Robin, by the way, I don’t believe I introduced myself to you before.” The smile she gave you was kind, you felt shy under the empathy in her gaze.

“(Y/n),” You responded.

“Nice to meet you (Y/n),” her tone was friendly. “The interaction between haki and your craftsmanship is truly remarkable. It’s quite the unique skill,” Robin commented. You couldn’t help but feel pride at her comment.

“It’s not that special really,” you mumbled reluctantly.

“Nonsense,” she laughed.

“Yeah!” The boy who had introduced himself as Luffy earlier added. “I’ve never seen someone control haki this way before.”

You felt uncomfortable under their interest in your skills. They seemed genuine but again you weren’t sure of their intentions. People rarely ever had genuine intentions when it came to your skills. You could feel your reservation towards these people coming back as uncertainty clouded your mind again.

“You should join my crew!” Luffy offered after it was clear you weren’t going to say anything. You cought the swordsman’s flinch from the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help the little pang of hurt at such a reaction. It doesn’t matter, you told yourself. You didn’t like the asshole either.

“No,” You answered his proposal bluntly.

“What? But why?” He asked.

“You should go,” you stood up abruptly, the conversation done in your mind.

As you made to leave the room, Mary’s voice stopped you. “Wait, (Y/n),” she said gently, her eyes pleading with you. “They don’t seem like bad people. You should give them a chance!”

“I said no!” you snapped as you left the room.

“It’s alright,” you heard Robin say faintly. “We don’t want to overstay our welcome.” The tone of her voice was considerate.

They were making their way back down the mountain in silence. The condescending tone of your voice as you’d told him he was too weak replayed over and over in Zoro’s mind. He was really annoyed.

“Wait!” he heard a feminine voice shout after them. They stopped in their tracks allowing Mary to catch up to them.

“Here,” she muttered between pants, handing a wooden box to Robin. “As an apology for my sister’s behavior.”

“There’s no need,” Robin tried to hand back the box to the woman.

“No! I insist! They’re just nails, if you ever need to repair your ship or something, nothing will work better than those!” It was clear to Zoro that arguing with the woman was pointless.

“Thank you, then,” Robin accepted with a smile. “I’m sure our shipwright will love them!”

“You should come back tomorrow!” Mary added. “If you have time that is.”

“Why?” Zoro couldn’t help but ask.

“I’ll try to convince her, so please ask her again tomorrow,” she said looking at Luffy.

Zoro could feel the irritation threatening to cloud his mind at the thought.

Luffy, oblivious to Zoro’s irritation, grinned widely. “Sure thing! We’ll come back tomorrow and talk to her again! Right Zoro?” he nudged the swordsman with an elbow.

Zoro grunted in response, not bothering to hide his annoyance. Mary smiled brightly at the captain.

“Thank you!” She yelled running back towards the house, waving farewell energetically.

Luffy was unusually silent as they made their way down, Robin being the one to break the silence instead.

“Luffy,” She started, her tone serious. “I’ll rely on your judgment, but I think we should take her with us.”

“I disagree,” Zoro interjected. “She’s quick to anger and we don’t know her, I vote we leave her here.”

Robin ignored his comment. “I’m worried about what the government wants to do with her,” she admitted. “If anything, we should try to get her out of here. Drop her off somewhere else if she really doesn’t want to tag along,” She continued. “But here… On this island I think she’s in danger.”

Luffy hummed in answer. He looked at Zoro. “I like her,” he said. “She should join our crew.”

Zoro sighed defeated. He hoped you wouldn’t.

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