Chan gets home angry from the disrespect at the met gala (fuck those paparazzi fr) and fucks you within and inch of your life 😈
one shot. Pure panty soaking, thigh clenching, smut. Eat a snack, drink some water, put a towel down, and get ready to read ;)
Content warnings: Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks!!), rough sex, dominant, overstimulation, multiple rounds, degradation + praise, oral (f receiving), crying, possessiveness, implied aftercare
Word count: ~1000
Master list
Other members (more coming soon): Lee Know || Changbin
Lmk if you want to be added to the series tag list ☺️
MDNI 18+ ⚠️⚠️
The door slammed.
You barely had time to register the sound before you heard the heavy thud of boots storming through the entryway.
“Chan?”
Your voice was soft, cautious, as you stepped out of the bedroom and peeked down the hallway. He didn’t answer at first. Just tore off his blazer with an angry grunt, letting it fall somewhere near the couch, his earrings still glinting under the hallway lights. The shirt beneath his jacket clung to his body—his chest heaving, his jaw tight, his brows furrowed in frustration.
His Met Gala look had left the world breathless.
But right now, he looked like he was ready to set it on fire.
You padded toward him, bare feet quiet against the wood floors. “What happened?”
He didn’t speak until you were standing right in front of him. His voice was low. Dangerous.
“They treated us like fucking trash.”
He wasn’t even looking at you—eyes still fixed on the front door like he was imagining slamming it again.
You placed a hand on his chest, over the rapid beat of his heart. “Baby…”
And just like that, his hands were on you.
You gasped as he shoved you back against the wall with a force that rattled the frame, his mouth crashing into yours. All teeth and tongue, desperate and wild, like he was trying to take out all his fury between your lips.
“Mine,” he growled into your mouth. “Say it.”
“Yours—”
He grabbed your thighs and hoisted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. He carried you down the hall like you weighed nothing, mouth never leaving yours, only pulling away long enough to murmur:
“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget your own name.”
⸻
He dropped you on the bed like a man possessed, stripping off your clothes in a frenzy of movement, not even bothering to be gentle. You were already breathless, already soaked just from the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing keeping him from snapping completely.
“Look at you,” he rasped, thumb brushing over your nipple. “Sitting here pretty when all those fucking paparazzi disrespected me and the group tonight.”
You whimpered as he yanked your legs apart, tongue dragging a slow, wet stripe up your slit. “Gonna take it out on you. Gonna fuck this perfect pussy until it’s ruined.”
He dove in without mercy. Licking, sucking, flattening his tongue against your clit, then curling it deep inside you. You were a mess in seconds, writhing under his hold as he pinned your hips down.
“Chan—fuck, don’t stop—”
He growled against you, voice dark. “You don’t get to tell me what to do, baby. You just take it.”
And you did. You screamed his name when you came the first time, thighs trembling, hands tugging at his hair. But he didn’t stop. Not when you came. Not when your body twitched from overstimulation. Not when you begged.
“One isn’t enough. Not tonight.”
⸻
He was already stroking his cock as he stood over you, soaked in sweat and hunger. Thick, hard, flushed dark with need. You opened your legs for him without thinking.
“Such a good little slut for me,” he said, climbing over you, his voice like gravel and honey. “You gonna take every inch like the good girl you are?”
You nodded, but he slapped the inside of your thigh. “Use your words.”
“Yes, fuck—please, Chan. I want it.”
He slid in deep with one brutal thrust that punched the air from your lungs. You arched off the bed, fingers clawing at his back, already on the edge again.
“That’s it,” he groaned into your neck. “Tight little cunt’s still gripping me like you didn’t just cum all over my face.”
He set a brutal pace, hips slamming into you, the headboard banging against the wall. Sweat dripped from his temple, his teeth gritted, chest flexing with every thrust.
You were nothing but sounds—gasping, moaning, sobbing. His hand found your throat, not choking, just holding, as he looked down at you with wild, blown pupils.
“No one disrespects me. No one gets to talk to me like I’m less than.” His thumb brushed your jaw. “Not when I come home to this. To you.”
You came again with a scream. Your back arched, your body clenching so tight around him he cursed and pulled out just in time—jerking himself hard until he spilled over your stomach with a groan.
⸻
You thought it was over. But Chan wasn’t done.
He didn’t even give you time to recover. Just flipped you over, dragged you onto your knees, and shoved his cock back inside you from behind.
“Wanna hear you scream into the mattress,” he grunted, pounding into you like a man gone feral. “Wanna make sure every neighbor knows who you belong to.”
You sobbed against the sheets, your knees shaking. “Chan—I can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you up so your back was arched against him. “You will. You’re mine.”
He fucked you so deep it felt like he was in your throat. Your cries turned into moans, turned into broken pleas, your body no longer your own. You clenched around him, your vision going white as another orgasm ripped through you.
“That’s it, baby, cum again—fuck, that’s my good girl.”
This time, he stayed inside you. Grinding his hips deep as he spilled inside, his breath hot against your neck, murmuring filth into your ear.
⸻
You were trembling. Raw. Used. Loved.
Chan collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his lips pressing to your temple.
“Sorry,” he murmured after a while, voice hoarse. “They pissed me off so bad and I just—I needed to feel in control of something.”
You nuzzled into his chest. “I like being your something.”
He kissed you again, gentler this time. “You’re everything.”
you find freedom, love, and a true family among pirates—only to risk everything, even your life, to protect them from the chains of your past.
words count: 3.5k
tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, banter, mystery backstory, angst and fluff
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
You’re outside the palace.
Free.
Almost.
You breathe hard, turning a corner and then freeze.
A small group stands not far from the gates.
Colorful.
Loud.
Too familiar.
The Strawhats.
Your breath catches. You blink like you’re hallucinating.
Luffy stands at the front, wide-eyed, mouth open mid-chew of a meat skewer.
Nami stares, brows drawn together.
Brook’s head literally tilts off his neck with surprise.
Jinbe’s eyes narrow calmly but deeply.
Sanji drops the bouquet of island roses he’s holding.
And Zoro... he's already moving toward you.
You stumble back a step, still panting “W-What… what are you all doing here? How…?”
“They let us in.” Robin says slowly, eyes flicking between you and the castle.
“Why does it look like you weren’t supposed to be out?” Usopp adds nervously.
You look behind you... guards are starting to scramble in the distance. You turn back quickly.
“I—I wasn’t. I ran.”
Zoro stops just a breath away from you now, taking in the blood on your clothes, your panicked expression.
“You’re hurt.” he growls, voice low and sharp.
“I’m fine—” you start.
“You’re bleeding.”
Then suddenly Luffy’s voice rises “Hey! This island has the best meat skewers!”
Everyone turns to look at him. He grins, still chewing.
“They welcomed us with food and stuff.” he adds, mouth full “Said they didn’t want any trouble. Said we could chill.”
“…They what?” you blink “No—no no no, that’s not right. They locked me in! They said they’d kill you if you came for me!”
Zoro’s eyes flash “And now they’re offering us a welcome party?”
Something’s wrong... Very wrong.
“They’re stalling.” Nami says, voice tight.
Robin nods “Waiting for the arranged marriage. If they pretend everything is fine until then, maybe they think they can convince us to leave.”
“No,” you whisper “No, I won’t let them do that.”
Zoro looks at you, then at the rest of the crew “We’re leaving. Now.”
“But—” Sanji starts.
“We’re not playing their game,” Zoro snaps “We take her and we go. If they try to stop us…”
He cracks his knuckles “They’ll regret it.”
You sway slightly, your body finally reacting to the blood loss.
Zoro catches you instantly, one arm around your waist, holding you up like it’s nothing.
“Let me go!” you mumble.
“Shut up,” he says, not unkindly “You’re not doing this alone.”
And then he lifts you, bridal-style, ignoring your protests completely.
The crew forms a loose circle around you as you all start walking back toward the ship.
“This is going to get ugly.” Jinbe mutters.
“Good,” Zoro answers “I’m in the mood for ugly.”
You don’t make it far.
The palace isn’t even out of sight when the main gates open again.
Your heart jumps to your throat when you see them.
Your parents.
Not in a hurry. Not shouting. Just walking calmly, like they’re stepping into a garden party.
The guards flank them, perfect formation. No panic. No raised voices.
“…Weird.” Usopp murmurs, his hand twitching toward his slingshot.
You feel it too. The discomfort. The tightening in your chest.
Something is off.
Zoro’s arms tighten subtly around you as your parents stop a few meters away, smiling like everything’s fine.
“Darling,” your mother says “Come home. You’re being dramatic again.”
Your father’s eyes slide to Zoro “So. The green head is the one you... like?”
You flinch.
He scoffs “That’s awful.”
Your mother smirks “At least pick the blonde one. He brought you flowers, for heaven’s sake.”
“YOU BASTARDS—!” Sanji growls, stepping forward with fire starting at his heel.
Zoro doesn’t move. His eyes never leave your father.
Your voice is cold “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Your mother’s smile sharpens “We’ll be kind. We won’t punish you if you come willingly. We understand. You were confused.”
Zoro tilts his head “You’ll understand this, too. Back off.”
Brook leans in to Nami “Something is strange, yohoho…”
Your father sighs, like he’s tired “You’re making this hard for everyone.”
And then he mutters to himself “At least we got the right one…”
You frown “What does that mean?”
His fingers twitch slightly behind his back.
The guards snap to motion.
And then Zoro grunts, his body jolting like he’s been stabbed from the inside. His knees buckle a little.
“Zoro?!” you panic, grabbing his face “What’s happening?!”
He’s panting now “S-Something’s… wrong…!”
At the same moment, Chopper, who's standing a little behind the group, yelps and collapses to his knees, clutching his chest.
“CHOPPER!!” Usopp screams, running to him.
“Chopper?!” Robin kneels beside him, trying to stabilize him.
You stare, horrified.
Your father’s smile returns. Cold. Calculated.
“We tagged them,” he says “A little insurance. While you were all enjoying the hospitality of our new village.”
“A poison?” Jinbe growls.
“A trigger,” your mother says “A small chip near their hearts will make their organs slowly fail. Painless if they’re calm… but very quick if we want it to be.”
“No…” you whisper.
Zoro’s still upright, sweating, breathing hard, jaw clenched so tight it trembles.
“But why—” Nami’s voice breaks.
Your father cuts her off “To remind her that actions have consequences.”
He looks right at you “You want to play pirate, darling? Then you’d better be prepared to pay for it.”
You can’t breathe. You can’t think.
They’re hurting Zoro.
They’re hurting Chopper.
And it’s all… because of you.
“We’re not asking anymore,” your mother says “Come home. Marry the prince. Obey your duty.”
“Or watch them die.” your father finishes.
Everyone’s eyes are on you.
Even Zoro is struggling to stay conscious, trying to shake his head.
“No…” he rasps “Don’t listen to them… don’t go…”
You place your hand on his cheek, your touch trembling.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper “I can’t let them hurt you.”
And then you do the one thing he’d never expect.
You step out of his arms and walk slowly… back toward your parents.
The crew erupts in chaos behind you.
“Y/N, no!”
“Come back!!”
“You can’t—!!”
“We’ll fight them! We’ll save you!”
“WAIT!”
You turn once to look at them.
Zoro is on one knee now, blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes locked on yours like he’s trying to hold you there with nothing but his stare.
He doesn’t say anything. But you can feel everything he wants to scream. Everything you want to say back.
But instead, you force a smile... watery, broken.
And say “Please… take care of each other.”
Then you step past the gates and the door closes.
Again.
The silence after you’re taken feels like a black cloud.
Zoro doesn’t move. His fists are in the dirt, breath ragged.
Chopper is still trembling, crumpled in Usopp’s arms.
Brook paces in erratic lines “This… this doesn’t make any sense…!”
“They planned this,” Jinbe growls “They were always steps ahead.”
Luffy isn’t yelling. Not now. He just stares at the gate. Unmoving. Quiet.
That kind of quiet that always means danger.
Sanji is still frozen where you left him. The roses he had prepared for you are crushed beneath his heel now, unnoticed.
And Zoro is silent, but his eyes burn.
Then Chopper coughs weakly and tries to sit up.
“Chopper!” Usopp steadies him “Are you okay now? Is it still hurting?”
The little doctor blinks, dazed “…It’s better. For now.”
Robin crouches beside him “What happened to you?”
Chopper’s hooves shake as he clutches his chest “I don’t… I don’t know. I felt something like a shock. Deep inside. Not like anything I’ve felt before.”
Franky kneels beside him, scanning his little body with a gadget “They said ‘chip’. You think they really implanted something in you?”
Zoro, still kneeling, hisses through his teeth “They must have. Whatever it is—it’s inside me, too.”
Nami looks horrified “But how? When?! No one took you guys away or knocked you out or anything!”
“They didn’t have to.” Chopper says quietly.
Everyone turns to him.
“If it’s small enough,” Chopper murmurs, “it could’ve been injected.”
Brook blinks “Like a needle?”
“Exactly.” Chopper nods slowly, hooves clenched “It wouldn’t take more than a few seconds. And if they used nerve-numbing liquid around the area, we wouldn’t even feel it going in.”
Zoro’s fists tighten “They could’ve done it back in the village… when they ‘welcomed’ us.”
“Shit,” Sanji curses “When they offered us tea… food… drinks…”
Chopper bites his lip “Maybe it was in the water. Or while we slept. There’s no scar. No mark. It’s not surgical. It’s precision-based tech. I don’t even know how to detect it properly, let alone remove it.”
“You’re saying it’s stuck in you and we don’t even know where exactly?” Usopp asks, horrified.
“I can feel it now,” Zoro mutters “Barely. Like a flicker in my ribs. But I can’t locate it.”
“It’s in a place they know you can’t reach,” Robin says grimly “Near a vital organ.”
Chopper nods, ashamed “I’m sorry… I should’ve noticed something, I—”
“This isn’t your fault,” Luffy says again, eyes burning holes into the palace wall “It’s theirs. They touched our crewmates. They used them. And they took her.”
He turns, face shadowed by the brim of his hat.
“We’re getting her back.”
Your room is quiet when you’re pushed back inside.
No guards this time. No locks on the door. Because they know you won’t run again. Not if it means Zoro or Chopper suffer.
You don’t cry. You already did. It feels like you’ve cried everything.
The silence is heavy. Even the air feels wrong, too clean, too perfect, too dead.
Then your eyes land on the bed.
A pale blue dress. Soft silk. Handmade.
One you used to wear for palace banquets. One of those they used to say brought out your “gentleness”.
It used to feel like a costume.
Now it feels like a noose.
A note lies on top of the dress, written in that familiar elegant penmanship:
“Wear this for dinner. Your fiancé will be arriving shortly.”
Your breath hitches.
You don’t rip the note.
You don’t throw the dress.
You move like a puppet, hands numb as you clean your face and pull the dress over your body.
It’s a bit too tight now, they don’t know you were free to eat as much as you want on the ship. They don’t know Sanji would feed you your favourite every single time he saw the minimum worry on your face. They don’t know you were happy.
You glance in the mirror. You look like a ghost of your past self.
Except for the small patch of blood soaking through the fabric at your side.
The wound you got during your escape is still open. You didn’t have time to patch it well.
You exhale shakily, walk to the door, and open it.
Two guards stand there, not surprised to see you.
“I… I need to see the palace doctor,” you say, voice soft but steady “This wound—”
You show the stained fabric.
They look at each other, then nod.
“Follow us.”
You walk through the palace. No chains. No leash. But you’ve never felt more owned.
You notice now: no one’s stopping you from going wherever you want.
No locked doors. No eyes watching too closely.
Because they know what you know that they’ve got you caged without bars.
You won’t run again.
Not if it means Zoro could be in pain like that again.
Not if it means Chopper, your sweet little doctor, could collapse again.
You clench your hands, trying not to think about how Zoro looked when he fell.
Trying not to think about how hard it was to walk away from him when all you wanted was to throw yourself in his arms and never move again.
But now you’re wearing a dress picked by your parents.
To meet a man they chose for you.
You press your hand against the bleeding side and whisper to yourself “…Don’t give up yet.”
The infirmary smells the same.
Sterile. Cold. Heavy with old memories.
The palace doctor is already waiting when you’re guided in, an older man with thin silver hair, sleeves rolled, gentle hands.
He doesn’t greet you, just gestures for you to sit “Let me see.”
You lower the fabric of your dress from your side, ignoring the sting, and sit on the edge of the table.
Blood clings to your skin in a smear. The cut’s shallow but raw.
He works quietly. Clean water. Gauze. Alcohol.
“…You’re still clumsy” he says after a long pause.
You smile faintly “You used to say that every time I scraped my knee.”
Dr. Mardel doesn’t look up.
“I remember crying for an hour once,” you continue, softer “Over a bruise from falling off the garden wall.”
“You screamed louder than your injury ever deserved.” he mutters, a small huff of breath escaping him.
A flicker of warmth.
You take that flicker and lean in.
“You always scolded me, but… you never let anyone else touch my wounds. Not even the Queen.”
He wraps the bandage a bit slower.
“I guess I just wanted to feel safe,” you add “I trusted you, Mardel.”
His hand falters. Just slightly.
You watch him carefully “Do you remember when I broke my wrist sneaking into the stables?”
“I remember you said the horses needed freedom,” he murmurs “Even back then, you hated anything with a leash.”
You smile “Still do.”
Silence again. You bite your lip.
“Mardel,” you say gently, “you’re a doctor. You care about people’s bodies, their pain, right?”
He finally looks at you “Of course I do.”
“Then tell me something,” you say, voice low “Zoro and Chopper—those people my parents hurt. They’re carrying something inside them, something small and lethal.”
He freezes.
“I’m not stupid. I know my parents didn’t invent this. They have money. They have scientists. They don’t understand that kind of tech—but you might.”
He says nothing. But he doesn’t look away.
“So I’m asking you,” you say, voice trembling with emotion you don’t even try to fake, “do you know anything about the things they implanted in them?”
“…They didn’t tell me.”
“But you might suspect,” you push “You’re too smart not to.”
He breathes deeply, gaze dropping to his tools.
“I didn’t operate,” he says quietly “No surgery. No incisions. But I saw them… bring in cases. Refrigerated, secure. Filled with something injectable.”
Your heart clenches.
“So they used needles” you whisper.
Mardel nods slowly “I saw one of the specs, briefly. Before it was taken. It looked like a microchip… wrapped in a nerve-conductive casing. Designed to cling to the nervous system. Pain activation. Or worse.”
“…Can it be removed?”
He looks pained “I don’t know how. Not without knowing the trigger mechanism. If we cut it wrong, it could activate instead of deactivating. Or killl them.”
You feel your fists tighten on your lap.
“I don’t want them to hurt.” you whisper.
Mardel’s voice softens “I don’t think you ever did.”
You look up at him.
“Be careful at dinner,” he adds quietly “The prince your parents are inviting… he’s not like you. Or them.”
“…Worse?”
“He collects things,” he mutters, finally rising “And he always keeps what he collects.”
The Straw Hats don’t knock on royal doors.
Not when you’ve been taken behind them.
Not when you’ve been forced to stay.
So they sneak in, like shadows in the night, hearts burning with rage, nerves taut like drawn blades.
“Coast’s clear” Usopp whispers, lowering his goggles.
The crew huddles just outside the palace walls, hidden behind dense foliage. The moon glints off the marble towers ahead.
“This is way too clean for my comfort” Nami mutters, scoping the guards’ movements “No patrol shifts. No alarms. They’re waiting for us.”
“They think we won’t risk it” Sanji says, voice dark “But they forgot one thing…”
“…We’re not normal” Luffy grins.
Brook chuckles from the trees “They never expect the skeleton to scale the palace!”
Franky adjusts his visor “And they definitely didn’t expect a cyborg with rocket heels.”
Jinbe stays calm, hands behind his back “Keep eyes open. We’re not here to fight, we’re here to learn.”
Zoro stays quiet.
He hasn’t spoken since they lost you.
He only grips Wado Ichimonji tighter at his hip and stares up at the towers, at the place where you sleep alone tonight, dressed in chains of silk and obligation.
They stole you. And he’s getting you back.
They split once inside.
Usopp and Franky take the eastern wing, where the labs are rumored to be.
Robin and Nami blend into the servant hallways, trailing whispers and paperwork.
Brook and Jinbe move toward the lower guards’ quarters, hoping to catch loose tongues and tired eyes.
Sanji heads toward the kitchens. The staff always gossips.
Luffy goes… wherever Luffy goes.
Zoro moves silent as a ghost through the west wing—toward your room.
In a shadowed hallway, the crew regroups briefly behind a statue of some noble dead man.
Robin unrolls a paper she found “They funded something called the ‘NerveLock Project.’ It matches what Chopper described.”
Franky scans it “These specs… Damn. It’s nano-encoded. Like a virus, no surgery needed. Just one jab and boom! It latches to your spine.”
“Can we remove it?” Sanji asks, tense.
“Not yet,” Franky says “But if we find the lead engineer... this ‘Doctor Stellan’, we’ve got a chance.”
“He’s on palace payroll,” Robin adds “Still working in the basement labs.”
Zoro’s eyes flick to the wall beyond them “Then we get him. No excuses left.”
Everyone pauses, because they all know what he means.
No more chip.
No more blackmail.
No more reason for you to stay in that golden prison.
No more reason for you to marry a man who doesn’t deserve to breathe near you.
Nami rests a hand on his arm “We’ll get her back.”
Zoro doesn’t look at her.
But he nods.
Just once.
Your wound is patched now, though it aches with every step.
The hall ahead of you is lit with chandeliers, every flame steady, like the room is holding its breath.
At the end of the room waits a table long enough to seat your whole crew.
But it only seats four.
You.
Your parents.
And him... The prince.
He stands as you walk in, smiling like a man who’s never been told no in his life.
“Your Highness,” he says, voice too smooth “You look radiant.”
You sit without looking at him “I didn’t dress myself.”
He laughs “Sharp. I like that.”
Your parents exchange tired looks but say nothing as servants pour wine and place silver-domed plates.
“I hope you’ll try to be… cooperative tonight.” your mother says softly, warning hidden in her smile.
You sip the wine. It’s good. But it tastes like a funeral.
The prince tries to make conversation. Talks about his training, his accomplishments, his castle’s view.
You stare past him, past the table, past your own heartbeat.
Then he says the wrong thing.
“I heard about your little pirate phase,” he chuckles, sipping his wine “Don’t worry. That’s behind you now.”
You look up slowly. Your jaw tightens.
“Is that so?”
Your father steps in “Enough, both of you. This dinner is for moving forward.”
You grip your fork.
Forward feels like a death sentence.
What you don’t know is that two floors below…
Robin is already inside the palace’s hidden archive room.
Franky has tapped into a power conduit and is copying encrypted files.
And Zoro is even scaling the outer wall like a shadow, getting closer to your window.
You’re not as alone as they want you to believe.
The prince leans closer “This arrangement... this marriage is the best choice for you. I mean… who else would want to marry someone so broken?”
You freeze.
That word slices through everything.
Broken.
You think of Zoro’s hands on yours. His lips against your temple. His voice, quiet and sure when he said, “I’ve got you”.
Your fingers curl.
“No one chose you,” you say coldly “You were picked like a weapon. Like a safety net.”
He glares “And you were chosen out of pity.”
“Enough.” your father barks.
You rise and for once, your voice doesn’t shake “I’ve already chosen someone. And it’s not him.”
Gasps. Shouting.
You’re already halfway out the door.
Back in the dark corridors, the Straw Hats gather around a panel of notes Franky stole.
“He can’t remove the chip remotely,” Franky whispers “But this guy… this ‘Doctor Stellan’… he can disarm it if we make him.”
Zoro exhales “Where is he?”
Robin points “Sub-basement lab. Guarded.”
Zoro draws his sword “Then let’s cut our way through.”
You barely touch the grand doors when his voice stops you.
“You’re forgetting something.” your father says calmly, like he’s reminding you of a missing glove.
You turn slowly.
He pulls something from his coat. A smooth, black device. Small. Simple.
Deadly.
“Sit down.” he says, tapping his thumb against a glowing button.
"I bet you grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one." – "You must be thirsty." – "You're saying I'm wrong?"
synopsis: salt clung to your skin like a memory, the ocean's breath whispering secrets against your neck as the sun bled gold over the endless horizon. You wandered through the unpredictable tides of pirates and promises, each wave pulling you deeper into something you couldn’t quite name. And then there was him—sharp-eyed, carrying storms in his bones and ghosts in his gaze. You never meant to fall into his orbit. But here, aboard a ship caught between dreams and danger, you learned that some hearts don’t beat—they burn.
pairing: zoro!chan x crewmember!reader (mentions of jeongin as luffy, changbin as usopp and jisung as sanji)
genre: smut, nostalgia, semi strangers to lovers
warnings: mature/strong language, alcohol use, heavy smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dom. Chan, various positions, he just can't get enough of you
word count: 6,9k
!minors do not interact!
The sun was a molten coin suspended in a sky of polished brass, its light rippling over the crests of the waves in glittering shatters. The Going Merry groaned softly beneath your boots, the ship’s timbers shifting like a slumbering creature stirred by the sea’s slow breath. You leaned against the starboard railing, fingertips brushing worn wood, eyes narrowed against the blinding glint of sunlight on water.
You’d stopped trying to count the days at sea. The horizon had long since lost its shape—just an endless smear of blue on blue. But today… today felt different. The wind had changed. Subtly. Not in strength, but in mood. As though it whispered secrets just out of reach.
Behind you, the canvas sails fluttered like wings. Above, gulls circled—though you hadn’t seen land in days. That in itself was strange. Too strange to ignore. You tasted the salt in the air, sharper than usual. Brighter. Almost… seasoned.
A low thud echoed across the deck.
Boots.
You didn’t need to look. You knew that gait by now. Steady, measured, unhurried—as if time itself slowed to keep pace with him.
“Still staring at nothing?” Chan’s voice was dry, edged with something you couldn’t quite name. It was the kind of tone that made people listen closer, not louder. You glanced over your shoulder. He stood a few paces behind you, arms crossed, one hip tilted lazily against a barrel. The wind tousled strands of green hair across his forehead, casting shadows over his eyes. “Maybe it’s not nothing,” you said. He tilted his head, gaze shifting out over the water. “Doesn’t look like much.” “Exactly.”
A beat. Then he pushed off the barrel, slow and fluid, moving beside you. Together, you stared into the horizon—where, now that you looked more carefully, something was beginning to take shape.
It was faint. Faint enough that if you blinked, it might vanish. But it was there. A blur of color too vivid for open ocean. Not an island. Not a ship. Something in between.
You leaned forward slightly.
“Do you see that?”
Chan didn’t answer right away. His fingers curled absently around the hilt of one of his swords, the leather wrapping dark against his hand. You saw his eyes sharpen, his shoulders still. Watching. Calculating. “Yeah,” he said at last. “I see it.” “What do you think it is?” “No idea. But it shouldn’t be there.” He wasn’t wrong. There was no reason for a structure that bright, that… designed to exist out here. This part of the sea was supposed to be empty—open waters, unbroken tides, scattered wind currents and little else. But now the silhouette was growing. Slowly. Rising like a hallucination from the foam.
Somewhere behind you, a door slammed open.
“GUYS! GUYS!”
You turned just in time to see Jeongin—burst onto the deck, straw hat barely hanging on as the wind whipped through his hair. His eyes were wide with something halfway between excitement and curiosity. “Do you see that?!” he cried, spinning on his heel mid-run and pointing dramatically out toward the strange formation.
“We’re looking right at it,” you called back.
“It’s a floating—thing! It looks like a—like a—like a giant fish!” Jeongin grinned so wide it almost looked painful. “Are we going there?! Are we stopping?! Please tell me we’re stopping!” “You don’t even know what it is,” Changbin muttered from somewhere up near the bow. He had one foot propped on the rail and his slingshot looped around his wrist, though his posture was more cautious than usual.
“But what if it’s got food?” Jeongin argued.
That made everyone pause.
Food.
Your stomach twisted a little at the thought. Rations had been thin lately. Even your own cooking experiments had devolved into heated debates about whether boiled seaweed counted as “creative cuisine.” “...It does smell like something,” you murmured.
Now that you were closer, it was undeniable. The scent drifted through the air like a siren’s call: sizzling oil, roasted garlic, sweet smoke, grilled meat. And something else—lemon? Orange zest? Citrus notes dancing on the wind. “Is that... rosemary?” you added, blinking at how absurdly good it smelled.
Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Is that a yes?! Are we going?!” Chan grunted. “Doesn’t mean it’s safe.” “Come on, Chan.” Jeongin stepped up beside him, tipping his head back so his hat fell to his shoulders. “We can’t not check it out. What if it’s some kind of rare sea chef palace?” “Or a floating death trap,” Chan replied flatly.
“You always say that.”
“And one day I’ll be right.”
You held up a hand before they could start another verbal sparring match. “Look, we need food. We need a break. Whatever that place is, it’s the first sign of anything we’ve seen in days. We at least sail closer.”
No one argued.
The Going Merry creaked beneath the shift of wind, as if it, too, was ready to rest. The sails billowed, adjusting course. Water churned beneath the keel as the ship angled toward the strange floating structure now looming larger with each heartbeat.
As you approached, the full absurdity of the building came into view. It was shaped like a fish. A massive one—its mouth agape, its scales glinting in iridescent hues of blue, red, and gold. Architectural flourishes spiraled along its back like stylized fins. Windows blinked like curious eyes, and painted signs in languages you didn’t recognize swirled across the hull. Music—live, chaotic, jazzy—poured from the upper decks, mixed with bursts of laughter and shouting. The whole thing floated on a platform held aloft by massive pontoons, bobbing gently on the waves like it belonged there. Like it owned the sea.
A waiter in a pink uniform leaned over the railing above and waved nonchalantly with a white cloth. You stared up at him, speechless. “This is real,” you said under your breath. “Yup,” Jeongin chirped. “And it smells like steak. I’m going.” The gangplank extended with a satisfying clunk, attaching itself automatically to a small boarding dock that had unfolded from the lower deck. Someone on the fish-building had clearly been expecting guests.
Or just didn’t care who showed up.
Jeongin was first off the ship, practically skipping. Changbin followed reluctantly, muttering something about “bad vibes” and “trap music.” You turned toward Chan. He hadn’t moved. His jaw was tight, brow furrowed. You recognized the look—the one that meant he was watching everything. Calculating escape routes, analyzing risks, memorizing exits.
You stepped closer. “We’ll keep an eye out. Together.”
His eyes flicked to you. For just a second, something softened in them. Then he nodded once.nTogether, you stepped off the Going Merry.
The dock felt strange under your feet—solid, but too smooth. Too clean. The music was louder here. Clinking glasses, bursts of laughter, the sizzling of something being seared. The scent hit you like a wave—so rich your mouth watered involuntarily.
You climbed the curved entry steps, hands brushing a banister shaped like a fish spine. The doors before you swung open not with magic or machinery, but with the welcoming chaos of a place alive. And then, framed in gold script above the arch, you saw it. The name. Baratie. It shimmered in the fading sunlight like an invitation.
Or a warning.
The moment you stepped through the archway into the Baratie, the noise hit you like a wall. Laughter, loud and unfiltered. Glasses clinking. A woman’s voice shrieking with delight. Silverware against porcelain. Someone was arguing about a stolen lobster. Somewhere in the back, a piano tripped over a jazz melody that felt half-drunk but dangerously alive.
The space stretched wide and theatrical, ringed in color and opulence that shouldn’t have belonged on the sea. Deep cherrywood beams crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling. Lanterns swayed on chains, their golden light bathing the room in warmth and the illusion of grounded comfort. Crimson velvet curtains framed windows you hadn’t noticed from outside. Every table was mismatched and deliberate—like the owners had collected them from shipwrecks and royal chambers alike.
It smelled like heaven. Like garlic butter and roast duck and citrus and sea salt and secrets you weren’t supposed to taste.bThe hostess barely spared you a glance. "Sit where you want. No brawling, no yelling, and if you break a chair, you bought it." Jeongin was already halfway across the floor, heading for a circular booth tucked against a curved wall, arms spread like he was claiming territory. Changbin rolled his eyes but followed. You and Chan moved slower.
His eyes scanned everything. Not just the people—though there were plenty. Pirates, rich merchants, fishmen, drifters, dreamers. But also the exits, the corners, the way shadows fell in places too carefully. It was second nature by now. He didn't trust easy.
You didn't either.
Still, the booth was semi-secluded. Good lines of sight. And the table was already set with gleaming cutlery and folded napkins shaped like roses. You slid in beside Changbin. Chan took the end, back to the wall. Always.
"Okay," Jeongin breathed, practically bouncing. "Tell me we get to eat everything." "That depends," you said. "On how much money you actually have." He blinked. "I thought you had the money." "I thought you did."
A beat of silence. Chan sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
You were just about to start debating whether stealing utensils could be considered compensation when a voice cut across the space. Not loud. Not demanding. But effortless. Smooth as aged whiskey over ice. "Evening, gentlemen. Lady." You turned—and saw him.
Tall. Slim. Blond hair curled behind his ears in soft waves, his black dress shirt rolled up to the elbows with the casual elegance of someone who knew he looked good. A pristine white apron tied around his waist. One hand rested on his hip; the other held a small notepad he didn’t seem to need. Eyes like honey and heat.
"Welcome to the Baratie. My name is Jisung and I'm your waiter for the evening." Jeongin leaned forward instantly. "Do you have meat?!" The waiter arched an eyebrow. "We do. Though it comes in many forms. Be specific or you’ll end up with sweetbreads." "Steak! Big steak. With butter. And garlic. And..." He squinted, sniffing. "Is that rosemary I smell?" Jisung smirked. "Good nose. Yes, rosemary." "Then I want that!" Jisung scribbled something lazily into the notepad. Then his gaze flicked to Changbin.
"For you, sir?" Changbin crossed his arms. "Do you have anything... normal?" "Define normal."
"Like... a sandwich."
"We have duck confit with citrus marmalade on toasted rye."
"...Sure."
Another scribble.
Jisung leaned over the table with a charming—if slightly smug—smile, pen poised above his notepad. “And for you?” he asked, glancing at Chan. “Something strong, I bet.” Chan didn’t even blink. “Whiskey. Neat.”
Then he turned to you. He met your gaze, his eyes softening slightly. "And for the lady?" You tilted your head slightly, the candlelight catching in your eyes as you matched his gaze. Steady. Unbothered.
"Chef's recommendation," you said. His smile curled slowly, like warm caramel drawing across cool porcelain. Not cocky—just a little too confident. "Ah," he said, voice smooth. "Adventurous. I like that."
He took a slow step closer, his notepad lowering to his side. His eyes flicked from your face to your lips and back again—not subtle, but calculated. He rested one hand lightly on the table’s edge, leaning in just enough to drop his voice into something that felt private, velvet-wrapped.
"If you ever get tired of spice," he said, “I make a dessert that’s not on the menu. Sweet, rich… unforgettable.”
It hung there. The invitation wrapped in sugar and charm. He knew exactly what he was doing. You arched an eyebrow. "Oh?" you said lightly, voice dry as salt. "Do you serve it with flattery and disappointment on the side?" The line landed like a well-aimed dagger—swift, elegant, and without venom. His smirk faltered—just a flicker—and then he laughed, soft and surprised. "Touché," he said, scribbling your order without missing a beat. "I’ll stick to the specials, then." "Good idea," you murmured. He turned smoothly, striding away with a grace that said he’d recover quickly—but you'd definitely unsettled him more than he'd expected.
There was a beat of silence at the table.
Then—
"Pfft—wow," Changbin snorted, pressing his fist to his mouth. "Absolutely brutal."
"Did you see his face?" Jeongin leaned in, eyes wide. "He looked like you kicked his puppy." Chan exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering in his eyes. He tilted his head toward you with something between admiration and mischief. "Didn't even flinch. Impressive." You could feel the heat creeping up the back of your neck, rising beneath your collar. You reached for your water glass and took a slow sip, if only to stall the blooming flush in your cheeks.
"I didn’t mean to embarrass him," you said finally, lips twitching despite yourself. "It just… came out." "Please," Changbin said. "You didn’t embarrass him. You educated him." "Yeah," Jeongin added, grinning. "Lesson one: Don’t flirt with someone who can outwit you before the appetizers arrive." You sighed “Can we all just agree I handled it with dignity?” "You roasted him with dignity," Chan said, voice dry. "With style," Changbin added.
You groaned softly, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. It bubbled out of you before you could stop it, half-laughter, half-resignation.
"Gods," you muttered. "I hate you all."
"No you don’t," Chan said without looking at you.
And maybe you didn’t. Maybe, right here in this ridiculous floating restaurant filled with chaos and charm, you felt something you hadn’t in a while. Something that tasted dangerously close to home.
The last of the plates were cleared, leaving behind only wine-splashed linens and the distant murmur of satisfied guests. The scent of garlic, seared meat, and something faintly citrusy still clung to the air, stubborn as saltwater. Around you, the Baratie was beginning to hum again with the rhythm of the sea—a place never quite quiet, never fully still.
Jeongin had started entertaining himself by trying to stack the bread rolls on top of one another, with Changbin offering loud, mostly unhelpful commentary. You watched them for a moment, the simple joy of it pulling a smile to your lips.
"Think we’ve earned a drink?" Chan’s voice was soft beside you, quieter than the clatter around the dining floor. You turned slightly in your seat. He was watching you, elbow resting on the edge of the table, his fingers absently toying with a toothpick. His eyes were calm, but the way his brow tilted just a little upward gave him that look—thoughtful, focused, like he saw more than he said. You nodded. "Definitely."
He stood without fanfare, waiting just long enough for you to rise before the two of you slipped away from the others. Neither Jeongin nor Changbin paid you much mind, too engrossed in an increasingly unstable bread tower. The air grew cooler as you stepped outside. A light breeze drifted across the deck, carrying the scent of open water and something faintly floral from the lanterns hanging overhead. The sky above was ink-dark, streaked with the faint shimmer of stars, and the soft creak of the ship beneath your boots reminded you just how far you were from land.
Chan didn’t speak right away. He led you up the winding stair to the upper deck, where the night was quieter, the noise of the dining floor muffled beneath your feet. There was a narrow balcony railing along the edge, the perfect place to lean, watch, breathe. He gestured to a small table tucked beneath a faded lantern. Two wooden chairs stood opposite each other. He waited until you sat, then took the seat directly across from you.
He disappeared briefly into a corner bar station still manned by a yawning server. A few exchanged words, a small grin, then he returned with two short glasses, liquid glinting amber in the low light. He handed you one. "Careful. It's stronger than it looks." You clinked your glass gently to his. "Cheers." The first sip burned pleasantly, warmth threading down your throat and spreading outward, slow and sure. You exhaled and let your gaze drift over the ocean.
"So," you said after a moment. "Be honest. Did you think we'd make it this far?" Chan chuckled softly, his voice low and even. "I thought we’d make it somewhere. I just didn’t expect it to feel like... this." "Like what?" He paused, rolling the drink gently between his palms. "Like something I don’t want to lose." That made you glance over. He wasn’t looking at you, not quite, but there was something in his expression—an openness, rare and unguarded. The kind that made you sit a little stiller, listen a little closer.
"You don’t say things like that lightly," you said. "No," he agreed. "I don’t."
The silence that followed wasn’t awkward. It felt like space being made—for thought, for meaning. The wind tugged gently at a strand of your hair. You took another sip. "You’re different up here," you murmured. "Quieter." He smiled faintly. "You're just noticing that now?" You shrugged. "I think... it's easy to forget you're watching. You blend in until you don’t. And then it’s like you see everything."
Chan tilted his head. "That’s a nice way of saying I make people nervous." You laughed, shaking your head. "No. It’s a nice way of saying you’re not easy to fool." That made his lips twitch. He leaned back slightly in his chair, the wood creaking beneath him. His eyes stayed on the water, but his voice had softened, losing that edge of tension it so often carried.
"You held your own tonight. With the waiter." You gave a small groan. "Don’t remind me." "Why not? It was kind of impressive." "It was mortifying." "You didn’t look mortified." You sighed. "That’s because I’ve mastered the art of internal screaming." Chan chuckled, the sound like gravel shifting underfoot—warm, grounded. He glanced at you finally, eyes catching the lantern light. "You don’t let people push you around," he said. "I like that." You looked down at your drink, unsure what to say to that. So he added, more quietly: "It means I don’t have to worry about you the same way."
Your fingers tightened slightly around the glass. "But you still worry," you said. He nodded. No denial.
You let the truth of that sit between you a while. The sea stretched endlessly beyond the railing, soft waves lapping against the hull. Somewhere below, laughter echoed faintly. A violin began to play from the main floor, its notes drifting upward, fragile and wandering.
You leaned forward, resting your forearms on the table. "Do you ever miss it?" "What?" "Stillness." He was quiet a moment longer than you expected. "Sometimes," he admitted. "But I think I’d miss this more." You nodded slowly, understanding curling in your chest like smoke.
When he shifted in his seat, his boot nudged lightly against yours under the table—subtle, but deliberate. You didn’t move away. The stars above blinked down, distant and watchful. You sat there, eye to eye, the sea in front of you and something quieter—gentler—settling in the space between your breaths.
The sea had softened with the setting sun, waves turning to gentle laps against the hull of the floating restaurant. From where you sat across from Chan, the low hum of laughter and clinking glasses from the dining area below drifted up to the upper deck. Lanterns swung lazily overhead, their warm golden glow throwing flickers of light across Chan’s face, dancing over the faint scar on his cheekbone and the slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
The table between you strewn with the remnants of your drinks—half-finished glasses of something spiced and warm, perfect for easing into the calm of night. Chan leaned back with the air of someone who rarely let himself relax, one arm stretched along the back of the seat, eyes gleaming beneath the fringe of his green-streaked hair.
“You ever play a drinking game?” he asked casually, but there was a glint of mischief behind the question.
You tilted your head, amused. “Is that your idea of a date?” His smirk widened. “Only if I win.” You raised an eyebrow. “And what do you get if you do?” Chan chuckled, low and quiet. “Maybe I’ll figure that out later. For now, it’s just about knowing you better.”
You watched him for a moment, the way his fingers tapped idly against his glass, the gentle way he looked at you—like he wasn’t really seeing the busy deck or the crew laughing below, but just you. The thought sent a small flutter through your chest. He leaned forward slightly, voice softening. “What are you carrying around that’s so heavy?”
You glanced down, the question brushing a little too close to places you hadn’t shown anyone. Your fingers curled around your drink. “You have no idea.” Chan’s eyes didn’t leave yours. “I bet I do. I bet I know more about you than you do about me.”
A small laugh escaped you, the tension breaking just slightly. “Yeah, right. You’re an open book.” “Care to prove it?” he said, straightening in his seat. “I guess something about you, you drink. You guess something about me, I drink.” You smirked. “Go ahead. Tell me all about myself.”
Chan took a moment, his gaze wandering as if he were replaying moments in his head. Then, “I bet you grew up in a big city, running schemes, hanging out in swanky bars like this one.” You let the smile curl slowly on your lips, shaking your head as you lifted your glass. “You must be thirsty.” He blinked. “You’re saying I’m wrong?”
“I grew up in a small village. Barely a village. Just a handful of houses in the center of a tangerine grove. Drink.” Chan lifting his glass in mock defeat. “Alright, alright.” He took a sip, letting the flavor linger before setting it down. “Your turn.”
The wind brushed past, carrying the scent of salt and citrus from somewhere below. You studied him for a beat, narrowing your eyes like you were peeling back layers he didn’t realize he had. “Okay,” you said. “But I had you read all the way back in Orange Town.” You leaned in slightly, elbows resting on the table. “I’ll bet you didn’t have any friends as a kid.”
Something in Chan’s expression faltered—not entirely, just a flicker of something behind the eyes. He hesitated. “I had friends,” he said quietly. “Swords don’t count,” you said with a wry grin. He huffed a laugh, then looked away for a second, letting his fingers trace the rim of his glass. “I had one friend.”
That surprised you. Not because you didn’t believe him—but because of how he said it. The weight behind those words wasn’t light. There was a history there, buried like the bones of a shipwreck. You reached for your own glass. “Hell, one more than I had.” The two of you drank, a soft silence settling in afterward.
You let your gaze wander for a moment, over the edge of the ship, where the ocean glistened like melted starlight. The breeze carried the occasional burst of music from inside the restaurant, soft piano chords and the muted thrum of voices. But none of it quite reached you—not really. Not with Chan across the table, watching you like he was reading lines in a book only he could understand.
“Your friend,” you said eventually. “Still around?” Chan’s jaw tightened just slightly. “No. Not anymore.”
You didn’t push. The look in his eyes said the story was too old and too painful to spill just yet. Maybe not ever. Still, the quiet hung between you like a thread, fragile but real. He cleared his throat, trying to soften the mood. “Alright. My turn again.” You gestured grandly. “Take your best shot.” Chan’s lips twitched. “You were the type of kid who stole books from libraries. Probably had a whole stash hidden under your bed.” You laughed, the sound startling even yourself. “Okay, yeah. That’s not fair. That’s cheating.” He held up both hands. “Does that mean I’m right?” You sighed, then took a slow drink. “Maybe.” Chan grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling.
It went on like that for a while—quiet guesses and quieter truths. Sometimes you were right, sometimes he was. The drinks weren’t strong, but the warmth built slowly, buzzing beneath your skin. It wasn’t just the alcohol, though.
It was him.
The way he leaned forward when you spoke, elbows braced, chin resting on his hand like he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. The way he laughed when you teased him, soft and a little self-deprecating. The way his eyes softened whenever you let a truth slip through the cracks.
The sky darkened gradually, the stars beginning to pepper the heavens. From your seat, you could see the moon rising over the horizon, casting a shimmer over the water. The kind of view that would’ve felt too big, too distant to touch—if not for the boy sitting across from you.
“I think,” you murmured, letting your fingers trail lazily around the rim of your empty glass, “that I should head back to the Merry.” Chan looked at you, his hand wrapped around the final shot—amber liquid catching a flicker of golden light. “You want company?” he asked, voice casual, but there was a thread of softness beneath it. Not insistence. Just the unspoken echo of I'd like to.
You met his eyes. Steady. Warm. “Sure,” you replied with a nod, the corner of your mouth curving. “You’re buying the last round, anyway.”
He smiled at that, tipping the shot back with a practiced motion. The glass clicked against the table with finality. The night air outside was cooler than you expected, salty and fresh from the sea, curling through your hair and coaxing a slight shiver from you as the two of you stepped away from the Baratie’s glow. The path to the dock was quiet—just the gentle lap of water and the distant echo of laughter from somewhere inside the floating restaurant. Your footsteps on the wood were slow, unhurried. Neither of you spoke at first. It wasn’t awkward silence. Just… comfortable.
You glanced at him, the way his arms swung slightly at his sides, the breeze ruffling through his green hair. He looked almost peaceful. “I think you cheated,” you said suddenly, turning your head just enough for him to catch your grin. “No way you guessed the book thing.” Chan’s brows lifted in mock offense. “Cheated? I’ll have you know I’m an excellent reader of people.” “Oh, sure,” you said, snorting. “Master of observation." “You said I was an open book,” he shot back. “Clearly, I’m just better at keeping things to myself.” You rolled your eyes, bumping your shoulder against his. “Next time, maybe I’ll bring books and test you properly.” He chuckled, a low sound in his chest, and for a moment, you just walked.
The Merry was quiet when you reached her, the familiar silhouette of the ship nestled at the dock like a waiting friend. Jeongin and Changbin were nowhere to be seen—still at the Baratie, most likely, or off exploring some corner of the floating restaurant. Chan didn’t seem surprised by the absence, and neither did you. You climbed aboard easily, the gangplank creaking gently under your steps. The ship rocked just enough to remind you she was alive. As you made your way across the deck, you felt your balance sway a little more than it should have—alcohol and sea motion conspiring to trip you up. You caught yourself quickly, laughing under your breath.
“Remind me not to drink with you again,” you said, half over your shoulder. “Oh, come on,” Chan teased, following closely. “We had fun.” “Dangerous kind of fun,” you replied, your voice light. “The kind that ends with someone falling overboard.” “Good thing I’m an excellent swimmer.” “Are you?” He grinned. “Guess you’ll have to push me in sometime and find out.” You snorted, shaking your head. “Tempting.”
“You ever think about it?” Chan asked eventually, voice low. “How weird it is… that we all ended up here. You, me, Jeongin… even Changbin.” Jeongin’s laugh rang out somewhere from the corners of the Baratie, bright and boyish. Changbin’s voice followed, loud and familiar. “All the time,” you admitted. Chan nodded slowly, then looked back at you. “You don’t seem like you’re running anymore.” The words landed somewhere deep.
You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you looked out at the sea, felt the breeze brush your cheek, tasted the bittersweet flavor on your tongue. “Maybe,” you said. “Maybe I’m finally just… heading somewhere instead.” He smiled at that, soft and proud.
Your feet brought you to the hallway where the crew’s cabins were tucked away, the lanterns flickering gently against the wooden walls. The soft creak of the ship filled the silence, accompanied by your slowed footsteps as you came to a stop in front of your door. You turned, leaning slightly against the frame. Chan stood just a pace away, his arms loosely crossed, expression unreadable in the soft glow of the lantern. But his eyes didn’t leave yours.
“Thanks,” you said quietly. “For walking me back.” Chan tilted his head a little. “Of course.” The air between you shifted. Not tense. Just—charged. Like a breath held too long. Like the world around you had gone a little quieter, waiting.
“I didn’t expect this,” you admitted, almost more to the shadows than to him. “This?” he echoed. “This.” You gestured vaguely between the two of you. “Us. Talking. Laughing. Drinking stupid games on a floating restaurant.” He smiled slowly. “Yeah. Me neither.”
And then, just barely, he took a step forward. Only half of one, really, but you noticed it. The flicker in his eyes wasn’t just reflection. “Should probably say good night,” you murmured. “You should,” he agreed.
But neither of you moved.
The creak of the wood. The soft hum of waves. The warmth of that final drink lingering in your veins. You couldn’t quite breathe. Not properly. And still, his eyes stayed on yours.
Like maybe he couldn’t either.
Another quiet moment passed. Then he said, almost too casually, “You know, I’m glad you’re here.” You met his eyes. There wasn’t any teasing in them now—just something honest. Something real.
“Me too,” you whispered.
That was all it took.
You closed the distance, your hand finding his collar before he could answer. Your lips brushed his — once, then again, firmer, as if daring him to pull back. He didn’t. Chan stood frozen for half a second, breath caught in his throat. But then his hand came up, gently curling around the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair. And when he kissed you back, it wasn’t tentative.
It was hungry.
A sound escaped the back of his throat — something like a sigh and something like a growl — and he moved forward, pressing you back until your spine met the wooden wall. His body aligned with yours in a way that felt too easy, too right. Chans other hand landed on your waist, holding you like he was afraid you might vanish.
The wall was cool against your back, but his mouth was warm. Chan's kiss deepened with every passing breath, with the kind of quiet desperation you hadn’t seen in him before. You felt it in the way his fingertips brushed over your cheek, down your arm, anchoring himself in your presence.
When you parted for air, both of you stood there for a moment — dazed, breathing hard, the space between you charged and trembling. Chan leaned his forehead against yours. “You sure about this?” he asked, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. You didn’t hesitate. “Are you?” His answer came not in words, but in the way his hand found the door behind you, pushing it open. The cabin swallowed you both, lanternlight casting flickers of amber across the modest room. It smelled faintly of salt and citrus, your coat slung across a chair in the corner, and the mattress soft against the far wall beckoning like something out of a half-remembered dream. But you didn’t reach for it yet.
Instead, you kissed him again — slower this time, more deliberate. His hands traced the curve of your back, steady and sure, and your own found the hem of his shirt. The cloth slid upward, your knuckles brushing the warm skin beneath. You felt him shiver under your touch, and it sent a matching wave through your spine. Piece by piece, clothing fell away — a glove, a belt, the fabric of the day shed like the weight of old armor. Each movement was unhurried, reverent, like unwrapping something sacred.
Your eyes searched his, and in the flickering glow of the lantern, you saw the storm of emotions raging there: want and wariness, hope and hunger. Chan's mouth was hot and demanding, but his touch remained tender, almost reverent.
His fingers brushed your bare shoulder with a feather-light touch, and even that sent sparks flaring under your skin. His eyes drank you in, as though he was trying to memorize every curve, every shade of want on your face. Chan hovered, his lips just above yours, breath mingling, warm and trembling with restraint. You closed the distance, pressing your mouth to his — a silent command, a desperate plea. The kiss deepened instantly, all softness turning to heat, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before slipping inside, tasting, exploring.
Hands roamed. Eager now, hungry. His palms spanned the curve of your waist, your hips, your thighs — he held you like a man who had been starving, who now sat before a feast and didn’t know where to begin. He laid you back with slow insistence, your skin sliding against cool sheets, his body hovering above you like a storm about to break. Your legs parted willingly, thighs cradling Chan's hips as his hand slipped between your bodies. Fingers explored you — warm, calloused, precise — sliding down your belly, brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves with practiced ease. You gasped, your hips arching instinctively into his touch. He groaned against your throat, voice thick with need. “You’re already so wet.”
You answered with a moan, your hands fisting the sheets as he circled your clit, slow and rhythmic, coaxing pleasure out of you with devastating patience. His fingers slid lower, found you open, ready. He pressed one inside, then another, curling them just right — watching your face as you writhed beneath him, as your thighs shook and your breath quickened. “You like that,” Chan murmured, voice rough, reverent. “Gods, look at you…”
Your body sang under his touch, pleasure blooming fast and hot. He kept working you, steady and sure, until the heat coiled tight and unbearable. You moaned his name as your climax crested and broke — sudden and overwhelming. Your body trembled beneath him, thighs clamping around his wrist as your back arched and a strangled cry tore from your lips.
He didn’t stop right away — his fingers slowed but stayed inside you, drawing out every aftershock with gentle, teasing strokes. Your breath stuttered. You whimpered, already sensitive, already aching in a different way now. When Chan finally pulled his hand back, his fingers glistened with you. He brought them to his mouth and sucked one clean, watching you the whole time. “Beautiful,” he murmured. He kissed his way down your body, lips warm and slow — your breast, your stomach, the inside of your thigh — until he was kneeling between your legs, hard and ready. He didn’t wait long. The head of his cock nudged at your entrance, and you reached down, guided him to where you wanted him.
“Please,” you whispered. “I need you.”
With a low growl, he pushed into you in one slow, controlled stroke. Your breath caught. Chan was thick, stretching you inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt, his hips pressed flush to yours. His eyes fluttered shut, a groan rumbling from his chest. “You feel so good,” he muttered against your skin.
He began to move, slow at first — a steady, deliberate rhythm that pushed the air from your lungs. Your body welcomed him, still tender and sensitive from your climax, each thrust sending soft ripples of pleasure across already-spent nerves. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, your nails grazing his back as his pace built gradually — deeper, harder, more insistent.
The bed creaked beneath you. The sound of skin against skin, his labored breath, your soft moans filled the space like music.
Then he pulled out without warning.
You gasped, blinking up at him — but Chan flipped you easily onto your stomach and coaxed you up onto your knees. One strong hand gripped your hip, the other steadied himself as he slid back into you from behind, filling you again in one deep, powerful stroke. You cried out, fingers curling into the sheets as he set a harder rhythm now, his thrusts fast and unforgiving, each one hitting deep. Your body rocked beneath him. Chan's hand slid up your spine, then tangled in your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat.
“You feel incredible,” he growled, biting softly at your neck. “I could lose myself in you.” His pace became relentless — his need taking over, raw and feral. You moaned for him, pleasure still humming low in your belly, a steady throb of sensitivity without the pressure of another peak. Your limbs trembled from the intensity, from the ache Chan left in his wake. He grunted your name, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, and then he was coming — with a deep, broken moan and one last thrust that pushed you both to the edge.
He collapsed over your back, panting, chest heaving against your spine. For a moment, all was still. The only sound was the rush of your breathing, the beat of your hearts in sync.
Then, carefully, he withdrew. The absence of him left you hollow and sore in the best way.
Chan didn’t go far — just shifted to his back, dragging you with him until you were sprawled across his chest. His cock, still slick and flushed, twitched against your thigh, already beginning to harden again. “You’re insatiable,” you murmured against his throat. “So are you,” he said with a wicked smile, flipping you over in one smooth motion. Now you were straddling him. You grinned, reached down between your bodies, and slid him back inside you — slow and deliberate, savoring the stretch and fullness, the way his hands gripped your hips and his head tipped back.
You began to move — not chasing another climax, but simply because it felt too good to stop. Your hips rolled lazily, taking him deep, grinding down in slow, teasing circles. Chan groaned, his hands sliding up to your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples until your breath hitched. “Fuck… you feel like heaven.”
You rode him like worship, like ceremony. Hips rolling, rhythm steady, letting the sensation build with every pass. His fingers slid up to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. You gasped at the touch, hips stuttering. His eyes darkened with heat. “Don’t stop. You’re perfect like this.” You didn’t. You moved harder now, skin slapping against his, your breath rising in ragged pants. You weren’t chasing a climax, not yet—it was all about the movement, the slick heat, the way you were joined so deeply.
Then he sat up without warning, his arm around your waist pulling you against his chest. Chan's mouth found your throat, your collarbone, your shoulder—kissing, nipping, tasting. You wrapped your arms around him as he thrust up into you, your legs tightening around his hips. Each movement was deeper like this, more intimate. You felt every inch of him. When your pace began to falter, your thighs trembling from the effort, Chan gently reversed your positions. You expected him to take you from behind again—but instead, he guided you onto your side, facing him.
Spooning had its tenderness, but this—this was different. You lifted your top leg slightly as he slid into you from the side. The angle was unexpected, exquisite. You gasped, clutching at his shoulders. "Better?" he asked, voice dark velvet against your mouth. "Yes," you whispered. It was slow, languid, but deeper than anything before. He held your gaze as he moved, one arm curled beneath your neck, the other hand gripping your thigh, guiding your leg higher over his hip. He was fully inside you, filling you perfectly, every thrust pressing against your most sensitive place.
You were surrounded by him—his breath on your skin, his body wrapped around yours, his length buried deep. The rhythm was slower now, almost torturously so. But it built with maddening precision. Chan kissed your shoulder, your collarbone, your cheekbone, never looking away. Your moans were swallowed in his mouth, and you felt yourself unraveling—every thrust driving you closer to that edge again. “You feel so good,” he whispered against your lips. “So tight and warm."
But just when the crescendo seemed imminent, Chan pulled back slightly, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Turn with me," he murmured. He guided your leg further upward and gently rolled, until you were partially on your back, his body angled above you. With one swift movement, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, bending you open for him. Then he moved. Faster. Rougher.
The shift was jarring and breathtaking. Every thrust now hit with precision, deep and unrelenting, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your cries turned guttural, your hands gripping the sheets—or him—anything to keep you grounded. He groaned as he watched you unravel. "You take me so well... every time." You could only gasp, head tossing back as the rhythm pushed you beyond the edge of control. Chan leaned down slightly, the new angle making it even more intense, his chest grazing your breast, his mouth finding your jaw, your throat, whispering filthy praise against your skin.
“Fuck—you’re so beautiful like this,” he rasped. “Falling apart on my cock.” You felt the coiling heat in your belly begin to burn white-hot. Your muscles tensed, thighs shaking, the orgasm rising like a storm on the horizon. “Let go,” he whispered against your ear. “Come for me, love.” And you did.
The climax rolled through you in waves—deeper than before, slower, drawn out like silk unraveling. Your whole body tensed, then shuddered with release, and you sobbed his name into his mouth.
Chan kissed you through it, slowing just enough to let you feel every pulse, every aftershock. And only when you relaxed, body heavy and trembling in his arms, did he allow himself to chase his own end. A few more thrusts—urgent now, almost desperate—and he groaned, his release catching him hard. Chan held you tightly, hips stuttering as he spilled inside you, forehead pressed to yours. The world narrowed to just the two of you. Nothing else mattered.
He didn’t pull away right away—just stayed there, buried inside you, wrapped around you, the rhythm of his breath matching yours.
Finally, when the trembling slowed and your hearts found their pace again, he brushed a kiss to your brow. “Stay here tonight,” you whispered. Chan looked at you, body still humming. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.” He smiled, the look in his eyes was something different now—softer, almost reverent.
And then he kissed you again—unhurried, like the sea brushing the shore, as if time itself had decided to wait a little longer.
♡ Pairing: bartender!bang chan x chubby!fem!waitress!reader
♡ Genre: smut/fluff
♡ Summary: Chris has had a crush on you ever since his best friend hired you but he's never had the courage to do anything about it, too intimidated by you to say a word. Little does he know, you've had your eye on him too and tonight's the night you plan to give him a taste of what he's wanted so badly.
♡ Word Count: 4k-ish
♡ Warnings: flirting, kissing, dirty talk, a lil dom/brat dynamic, they're both low key needy, teasing, oral sex (m receiving), very sloppy oral sex at that, swallowing, deep throating, he low key has a big dick, we're playing with balls today, a lil rough nipple pinching, a lil fingering, booty slaps, chris really wants to eat you out, he also very much likes his girls thick, pet names (baby, baby girl, daddy).
♡ A/N: Hello my darlings! So this is my first entry in a series of fics I'm doing based on lyrics from songs that are basically my ho anthems. This is the ✨ masterlist ✨ and I'll be uploading fics over the next two weeks. Every fic is chubby reader centered and, much like an actual DJ, if you have a request feel free to slide into my asks. I'll happily take it 💖
“Better grab a mop, it’s getting sticky in this bitch” - Tyler the Creator
Christopher Bahng has one little problem and it has your name written all over it.
Six years of bartending have taught Chris how to keep his cool against any number of things. Random fights breaking out between dudes who’ve had a few shots more than they should’ve. Belligerent drunks who lash out if he dares to cut them off. Divorced dads crying on his shoulder about their ex wives half an hour past closing time. After so long it got to the point where he didn’t think anything that walked through that door could throw him off his game. And then there was you.
When Changbin said he’d hired a new waitress Chris wasn’t sure what to expect. All he wished for was someone nice and competent. Anything else would be the cherry on top and you came sprinkled with cherries. Not only were you an absolute sweetheart who picked up on things quickly, you were drop dead gorgeous. As a rule Chris doesn’t date coworkers. It’s messy and risky. Someone always ends up getting hurt. But working side by side with you every day left him wondering if the risk might just be worth the reward.
You show up to every shift with your teeny skirts and your glossy lips, bouncing around the bar like temptation incarnate, seemingly unaware of the effect you have on him. He can’t keep his head on straight when you’re around. He makes silly mistakes and trips over his words. Everyone always compliments Chris on how charismatic he is but all of that seems to fly out of the window when you’re around.
Tonight’s shift is no different. You’re skipping around the bar in your little pink mini skirt. The kind that twirls when you walk and rises when you bend over, giving him the faintest preview of your lower ass cheeks. The crop top you’re wearing is no better. It’s one of those tops with a plunging neckline that knots in the front, making your tits look especially kissable. The lushness of your figure means that everything else bounces when you do. You’re so thick. So juicy. So…
“Pardon me, boys” you sing, easing behind the bar to hunt for a clean glass.
Minho, Chris’s fellow bartender, spins out of your way, two open beers held high in the air. “No, knock me over. It’s fine” he teases and you just roll your eyes. Minho always has something to say. You’re used to it by now.
At the other end of the bar Chris is busy mixing up a drink. Rum and coke. Quick. Predictable. Boring. Spotting a stack of clean glasses nearby, you squeeze in beside him, careful not to get in his way.
“Ready for this night to be over or what?” you quip, an arm extended towards a glass that’s just out of your reach.
Chris grabs it for you, his hands on the verge of trembling from how close you are. You’ve got your tits pressed up against his arm. Not swallowing it whole but brushing it just enough that he can’t ignore what’s there.
A bit of nervous laughter escapes him as he flashes you that handsomely dimpled smile. “Yeah, I can’t wait to get out of here. You got any plans for later?”
You shrug, nails tapping at the glass now secured in your hand, “Mmm, I don’t know. Why? You asking me out or something?”
There’s a long pause. A tense, breathless silence that seems to last forever. Beneath that fluffy brown hair his ears are turning red and the blush is beginning to spread to his cheeks.
“I’m fucking with you” you giggle, patting him on the shoulder, “You’re so easy to get. It’s too fun. Thanks for the glass by the way.”
With a flirty wink you’re off, leaving as quickly as you came. Taking his first real breath since you stepped foot behind the bar, Chris watches you weave through the tables and nothing can tell him that you aren’t moving in slow motion. You’re like one of those girls in the movies—the type you dream about—and you’re looking right at him. You’re looking right at him. His grip tightens around the cool glass of rum and coke that's already begun to sweat against his palm . You’re talking to a customer but your gaze is entangled with his, drawing him deeper into your orbit than he’s ever been.
You’ve never caught him looking before. He dreaded the day when you did but prayed it’d never come. Now that it has, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. The heat creeping up the back of his neck is unbearable and his heart’s prepared to bungee jump from his chest. Even worse, he's feeling something. Something he shouldn’t feel when he’s at work. A rush of blood. The tightening of skin. Fabric stretching to accommodate him.
“Can I have my drink or is that yours now, sweetie?” the woman waiting at the bar asks.
Shaking himself out of a daze, Chris panics, handing her the drink. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“What’s with you?” Minho mouths but getting an answer isn’t in the cards.
Chris speeds by, his back turned to conceal what’s developing below his waist. “I need something from the back! Take over for me!”
Bolting through a side door, he navigates the small back area cramped with boxes to find solace in the storage closet. He slams the door behind him as soon as he’s in, pacing the floor to calm himself down.
“Get it together, Chris. You’re not in high school. She’s just a girl” he tells himself like a coach giving a pep talk. Pausing in his tracks, he puts his hands on his hips, his brain filing through all the things he could do to help. “Think about bunnies or sports or old people or bunnies playing sports with old people.” Squinting his eyes closed he thinks of just that. The cutest baby bunnies hopping around a baseball field doing their best to win against their only opposition…the elderly. He gives it a minute, letting the thought truly soak in, before he opens his eyes again and looks down.
“Fuck…” he hisses at the sight of a hard on that’s only gotten worse. If only he hadn’t looked at you. If only you hadn’t looked at him. Who told you to have such pretty eyes? And the nerve of you to devour him with them.
“Chris, you back here?” you scream, running into the closet to find exactly who you’re looking for, “Oh hey, there you are, a customer had a question about a drink and…why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what? I’m not looking at you like anything. I don’t know what you mean” he stutters, taking a few steps back to create distance between the two of you.
You take those same steps forward, closing the distance and ruining his plans. “No, you are looking at me like that.” You fold your arms across your chest, eyeing him skeptically, “What are you doing in here, Christopher?”
“What am I doing in here? I was just, uh…” he scans the shelves, a lie at the tip of his tongue, “We were out of strawberry syrup and I came to grab it. I just can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
“You came to find the strawberry syrup?” you ask, effortlessly spotting it on the shelf. You hop up to grab it, dangling the bottle in front of him, “Does your dick always get hard for strawberry syrup? Is that a kink of yours or…”
Chris whips around, his back to you, hands swooping in to cover the offending area. “Oh my god, I wasn’t—you weren’t supposed to—shit.”
Sneaking up behind him, you peek around his shoulder, that mischievous giggle of yours brewing again. “See, told ya you were easy to get” you whisper, “That wouldn’t happen to be my fault would it?”
Your eyes flick down to where his hands are and the fact that they’re hardly enough to hide his bulge is exciting to say the least. How oblivious could he possibly think you are? In the beginning you weren’t quite sure if he was checking you out or not. He can have a mean case of resting bitch face when he wants to. During those first few weeks there was no way to differentiate if the stares you were getting from Chris had longing or hatred behind them but it quickly became apparent that it was the first.
Girls walk into this bar and they swoon over him but you’re the one who turns him to putty simply by existing. That is power and you wield it recklessly, flirting with him every chance you get. So this little situation—him being so hard for you that he has to scurry away to a storage closet—is far from the offense he thinks it is. In fact, it’s an achievement.
“You know, I like you…” you sigh, trailing your fingers up his arm to feel the firmness of his bicep through his fitted black shirt, “You’re sweet and you’re funny and you’re cute. Too cute to suffer. I can help you out if you want.”
Chris looks back at you, eyebrows knitted together in confusion, “Help me? What do you mean ‘help me’?”
You glance down again and back up at him, “With that. I can make it disappear if you want me to.”
Gently massaging his arm, you smooth your hand across his shoulder, down his chest. You haven’t seen this man shirtless but if what you feel is any indication of what it looks like you know his body must be immaculate. His breath hitches as your fingertips dance along his abs, venturing below his belt right to where his own hands hover.
You’re so close—centimeters away from where he throbs with need for you—but just as you’re about to touch it he dips out of the way, slipping from your grasp. Chris turns to you, his expression hardening. At the drop of a hat the boyish confusion you found so amusing has given way to something stronger. More severe.
“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable” you apologize, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.
He advances on you and now you’re the one backing away. You’ve seen this before in nature documentaries. A poor little gazelle and a ravenous lion. The gazelle gets chewed up every single time. If you were to take a wild guess which one you are, you’d say you were fucked.
“Chris, I’m serious, I was just—” Your back hits the door, knocking the air out of you, and you let out a faint shriek that makes his lips quirk into something reminiscent of a smile.
His pointer finger traces the curve of your cheek, his feather light touch tickling your skin. “You were just ‘fucking with me’. That’s how you put it, yeah?”
If there were any air left in you then surely you’d lose your breath. “It sounds so childish when you say it like that.”
“Because it is childish. You shouldn’t say things you can’t back up” he says like it’s a dare of sorts. It is.
As his lips drift closer to yours you can feel the heat radiating from his body. There’s no denying that some of it’s your own and what’s shared between you is enough to melt the sun.
“Who says I can’t back it up? I’m a woman of her word. If I say something then I always intend to back it up.”
Chris tucks a finger under your chin, tilting your head so that your lips graze his. “Prove it.”
As if it has a mind of its own, your hand finds his chest again, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to bring him closer, and he doesn’t resist. He leans into you, his plush lips meeting yours as his tongue dips between them, eager to explore the furthest reaches of your mouth. The kiss is everything a girl could want, more delicious than any drink he could serve you up at the bar. It’s a good thing he’s never kissed any of those girls who fall all over him. They’d be helpless, at his mercy, utterly hypnotized by a kiss sweeter than any other you’ve had.
Gripping his shirt tighter, you put every bit of strength you’ve got into spinning him around. The swap is effortless and he’s right where you were, his body blocking the only way in or out of this closet.
“Open this for me please” you pout, raising the bottle of strawberry syrup still dangling from your fingers.
Chris takes the bottle, vexed by your sudden need to access its contents, but he grabs the cap anyway, unscrewing the lid as you drop to your knees and get to work unfastening his belt. You’re quick with your fingers, undoing his pants with all the finesse of an expert thief cracking a safe. Your hand’s cool as it comes in contact with his length, stroking him from tip to base the second he springs free. He gasps at the chill, his stomach muscles tensing at the sudden hit of dopamine rushing through his body.
Leaning your head back, you smile up at him, opening your mouth wide, “Pour it.”
“Pour it?”
You stroke his length again and it pulses against your touch, shiny beads of arousal dripping down the head. It takes all of his muscle control for his lets not to give out.
“Pour. It.” you repeat, placing emphasis on each word.
Still reeling from that last stroke, he does as he’s told, letting a shot’s worth of it trickle down into your mouth. He pours in just the amount that you need. Such an intuitive bartender even now. Careful not to spill a drop, you guide his cock into your mouth, glazing him in the sweet syrupy liquid.
The warmth of your mouth meddled with the thickness of the syrup is what he never knew he wanted but will desperately need every day after this. It’s tight and gushy, hugging him how he imagines your walls might, and when you take him all in—your pretty lips wrapped around the base in the perfect shape—he loses any hope he ever had of holding his composure.
Blinking down at you, he brushes your hair back out of your face, showering you with admiration. “Took it all in the first go. Didn’t know you wanted it that badly” he taunts, hips rocking to push the tip to the back of your throat.
You don’t gag, you don’t even flinch, you just take it, your irises dancing like stars as your tongue swoops back and forth beneath his cock. The taste of him makes you drool, your own arousal gathering in your panties the same way his slicks the back of your tongue. You move slowly at first, bobbing your head back and forth at a delicate pace, enjoying every detail of his cock.
It’s nice and thick, the perfect size for your mouth, with veins that travel up to the head in such a picturesque formation that you might think it was deliberately designed to be so exquisite. Chris has the nicest mushroom tip, plump enough to make a crisp pop when it temporarily vacates your mouth, your tongue swirling around it to tease the rim.
“I wish you could see how fucking gorgeous you look right now” he coos when you roll your tongue across the slit, lapping up his precum. You’re such a mess, your hands and lips all sticky with syrup, but he wouldn’t have you any other way.
You smile as much as you can with your cheeks filled to the brim, slipping him back into your mouth until, like magic, it disappears. There’s an urge in him to throw his head back against the door, close his eyes and let the pleasure consume him, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He has to watch you. He needs to. You look so good slobbering around his cock, sucking him like a lollipop that comes in your favorite flavor. The way you’re squeezing your thighs together gives away how much this is getting you off too and it only worsens his need for you.
Pulling back enough to wrap a hand around his length, you spare him one final glance before you let your eyes fall shut, picking up speed that gives him whiplash. The sounds from your hollowed out cheeks suctioning his cock are downright sinful. You’ve got him biting his lip and bucking his hips, moans pouring out of him as you reach up to cup his balls, rolling your palm against them.
They’re so sensitive that the slightest amount of pressure makes his cock twitch harder between your cheeks but you don’t miss a beat, your wrist and jaw working in flawless unison to keep your pace. You’re too in your zone to notice but your tits are sprinkled in a shiny mixture of everything currently swirling around in your mouth. It found its way down your chin, adorning your neck, and over the hills of the lucious tits that await below.
Chris can’t resist reaching down to grab one, his hand delving into your bra to knead the tender flesh. You hum around him as he finds your nipple, pinching the pebbled bud between his fingers. “Fuck, you like that baby?” he growls out, testing your limits by pinching just a little harder.
You let out a whine, your thighs coming together again to ease the throbbing of your clit. Do you like that? You fucking love it. You want more. You want his lips around your bud and his cock deep inside of you, deeper than it is in your throat. You want everything he has to give you but you’re a woman of your word and you’re determined to keep it. Dragging his hand out of your shirt, you interlace your fingers with his, tossing him a defiant look that tells him to behave.
With your hands now occupied, the full weight of his cock rests on your jaw. You deserve an award for keeping it in, performing tricks with your tongue he never knew a girl could. Every move you make, every wispy flick of your tongue, has his sanity unraveling thread by thread.
“Fuck…I don’t know how much more I can take” he whimpers, a sound that only encourages your behavior. “So fucking good, baby girl…mmph…”
He squeezes your hands, attempting to push you back a few inches, silently begging you to slow down. Not yet. Just a little more. But you’re deep throating him like your life depends on it, refusing to take pity on him. His body tenses, an involuntary jerk of his hips almost tripping you up.
“Mmhmm” you moan, your nose pressed to his base, throat muscles flexing.
You steal a look at him, his jaw slack, eyes heavily lidded, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin. If you didn’t know any better you’d think he was drunk and that’s exactly what it feels like. A nice buzz. A double shot of europhoria.
A splash of something warm trickles down your throat and you gradually slip him out of your mouth, letting him cum on every inch of you until you’re balancing him on the tip of your tongue. You patiently wait for the last drop, slurping him clean. When you lean back, freeing your hands from his, he nearly doubles over.
“Whoa, don’t die on me” you giggle, flexing your cramped fingers.
Rising to your feet you capture him in a kiss, softly stroking his cock as he comes down from his high. His shallow breaths fall on your puffy lips, that pining boyish expression back at home on his face.
“What was that?” he pants, nibbling at your bottom lip.
“It’s what you wanted, right? Ever since you first saw me.”
Chris kisses you weakly, an effective diversion from the question. Looping an arm around your waist, he holds you close. Your tongue still tastes like candy and he intends to kiss you until the flavor fades. Slipping a hand down to grab your ass, he squeezes it roughly, making you arch in response. With your ass poked out he easily gets to what he wanted more. Tucking your panties to the side, he swishes two fingers around in the juices soaking your entrance.
“Aah, Chris…” you gasp as his fingers push into you.
If the sound of you sucking his cock was sinful, the squelching of your pussy accepting his fingers is sin itself. Dragging his lips down to your neck, he kisses it softly, working his fingers in and out of you. Holding tight to his shirt, you quiver from the pleasure, walls fluttering as the pads of his fingers trace the ridges of your walls.
“I wanna taste you so fucking bad” he confesses, “That’s what I’ve wanted ever since I first saw you. You gonna let me taste you, baby?”
You want to say, “Yes”. No, you want to say, “Fuck yes”. Only you can’t find the words. Not when he’s playing your pussy like a finely tuned instrument. He can do anything he wants to you if all of it feels this good.
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he stares into your eyes, his gaze oozing lust. There’s no question about it this time around. “Is that a yes or a no, baby?” His fingers curl into your faster, his knuckles flush against your entrance, juices running down your thighs.
“Yes” you force out, riding his fingers.
“Yeah? I don’t think I heard you” he teases, giving you a little peck on the lips, “You can be louder for me, yeah?”
Click. Click. Click. The door knob turns and it only occurs to you now that neither of you locked the door. Worse than that, you’re still at work.
“Chris, you in there?” Minho calls out, banging at the door, “If I have to work you do too!”
Minho tries to push the door open but it doesn’t budge. The collective force of your bodies is enough to keep it shut though you aren’t sure for how long.
“Uh, I’ll be out in a second!” Chris shouts back, grabbing the knob to keep it from turning again.
Fixing his pants as quickly as you got them open, you straighten his clothes out, and dip behind the door. Chris pulls you back over, stealing another kiss before letting you go. He moves away from the door and it goes flying open. Wedging yourself into the corner behind the door, you can’t see a thing. You can only hear the exchange.
“What the hell were you doing?”
“I was looking…looking for the strawberry syrup.”
“All this time? Did you hit your head or something? I’ll find it.”
Noticing the bottle of syrup by your feet, you kick it over and by the sounds of it Chris grabs it.
“Oh, there it is. See? Got it! Now go. I’m coming! Seriously. Go.”
You listen as Minho hesitantly steps away, the door swinging in the opposite direction for Chan to kiss you full force. He hugs you tightly enough to almost lift you from the ground and you kick your feet cutely out of surprise.
“You’re coming home with me tonight” he demands, licking what small sample he got of you from his fingers, “You leave this bar without me and I’ll fight you.”
“Ooh, you wanna fight me, daddy? I am known to like it rough.”
How can one girl be so hot? He can’t wrap his head around it but he knows he has to get away from you before he can’t hold back anymore. “Get back to work” he says, slapping you on the ass and you get on your way, flashing him your ass on the way out the door.
Watching you leave, he can only think of one thing. That one little problem—the one with your name written all over it—has just gotten much, much bigger.
you two acts like a loving couple all the time, so what happens when someone points it out?
characters: zoro, sanji, law, ace and sabo
words count: around 0.8k - 1.3k each
masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi
── .✦ Roronoa Zoro:
You do a lot of things for Zoro without thinking.
You wake him up when it’s time to eat. You stop him from training too much. You make sure he doesn’t get lost whenever the crew visits a new island.
It’s normal for you. Someone has to do it.
But one day, the others start teasing you about it.
It happens at lunch. You are eating with the crew when Usopp laughs and nudges your arm.
“Hey, aren’t you gonna get your boyfriend?”
You blink. “What?”
Sanji, cleaning his hands with a towel, nods toward the deck “That moss-brained idiot. You always bring him to meals. It’s like a little routine between you two now. Like a couple…”
“We’re not—” You nearly choke on your drink “We’re not a couple!”
Usopp grins “Then why do you always take so much care of him?”
“Because he’s stupid and forgets to eat!” you say, standing up “I’ll go get him, but not because of whatever weird ideas you guys have.”
You walk away while they laugh behind you.
You find Zoro exactly where you expect, napping against the ship’s railing, his swords next to him.
You roll your eyes and shake his shoulder “Oi, wake up. Lunch is ready.”
Nothing.
You shake him harder “Zoro. If you don’t get up, I’ll eat your food.”
He grumbles and waves his hand, like he’s trying to swat away a fly.
Sighing, you do what you always do. You grab his wrist and pull him up with both hands. He lets you. He always does, like it’s natural.
Zoro blinks at you, still half-asleep “Huh. You again.”
“Yeah, me again,” you say “Come eat before Sanji ‘forgets’ to save you anything.”
You’re still holding his wrist, making sure he doesn’t fall back asleep. That’s when you notice Nami and Robin watching from across the deck, smiling.
“What?” you ask, feeling awkward.
Nami smirks “You two are cute.”
Your face heats up “We’re not—he’s not—we’re not together!”
Robin chuckles “You do take care of him a lot.”
Zoro frowns, confused “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” you mutterl “Come eat.”
You let go of his wrist too fast and walk away, ignoring the warm feeling in your chest.
You think it’s over, but now you notice things.
Zoro always sits next to you at meals, even when there are other seats. You always save food for him without realizing. And during fights, he always protects you first, like it’s a habit.
And, worst of all, people keep pointing it out.
“y/n,” Chopper asks one day, tilting his head “Are you and Zoro dating?”
You almost trip “What?! No!”
“Oh...” He looks confused “But you act like it”
You groan “Not you too”
After that, you can’t stop thinking about it.
The next time you wake Zoro up, your fingers stay on his wrist a second too long. The next time he pulls you behind him in a fight, your heart beats faster.
And then one evening, when you catch him watching you with a thoughtful look, you realize you might be in trouble.
That night, Zoro speaks first.
“Oi”
You look up from your seat on the deck “What?”
He leans against the railing, arms crossed “Does it bother you?”
You frown “Does what bother me?”
“What people are saying” His eyes stay on you “About us.”
You swallow “Why? Does it bother you?”
He doesn’t answer right away “No” his voice is quieter than usual.
Your stomach flips and you look at the ocean “I mean… it’s just dumb teasing, right?”
Zoro doesn’t reply. Instead, he watches you for a long time. Then, finally, he smirks.
“Doesn’t really matter what they say” he says, voice calm but sure “I’d still stick with you either way.”
Your breath catches and suddenly, your heart won’t let you ignore this anymore.
For the next days you try to brush off what the crew said.
You really do, but it’s impossible to ignore when Zoro keeps acting the same way.
Like when you’re on lookout duty together, and he hands you his jacket without a word.
Or when you spar with him, and he pulls his hits just enough so you don’t get hurt.
Or when you fall asleep on the Sunny’s deck, and you wake up covered with a blanket, one you know you didn’t grab.
And every time it happens, you catch the crew watching. Smirking.
It’s driving you insane.
One afternoon, you finally decide to do something about it.
You find Zoro by the training room, lifting weights. His shirt is half undone, sweat glistening on his skin, but you shove that thought aside.
You cross your arms “Hey, Zoro.”
He grunts in acknowledgment, not stopping his reps.
You hesitate “…Why do you treat me differently?”
He finally sets the weight down, wiping his face with a towel “What?”
“You heard me...” You shift uncomfortably “You do things for me that you don’t do for anyone else.”
Zoro leans back against the wall, looking at you like you just asked a stupid question “So?”
“So?” You huff “That means something, doesn’t it?”
He shrugs “I guess.”
You blink “That’s it? You guess?”
Zoro sighs, scratching his head “Look, I don’t really think about it. I just—” He pauses, then shrugs again “I want to.”
Your heart skips a beat “…What?”
“I want to do those things for you,” he says simply “it’s not a big deal”
You stare at him “Not a... Zoro, are you serious?”
He frowns “What, you don’t like it?”
“That’s not the point!” Your face feels hot “You don’t do this for Nami or Robin or anyone else!”
Zoro looks at you, unimpressed “Yeah. Because it’s you.”
You freeze.
The way he says it, so blunt, so obvious, it makes your stomach flip.
He isn’t flustered. He isn’t overthinking it. He’s just stating a fact.
“…Oh.”
Zoro crosses his arms, watching you carefully “Is that a problem?”
You swallow “No. It’s just…”
It’s everything. It’s him always being there, always looking out for you, always treating you like someone important.
It’s a realization you should have had ages ago.
You let out a breathless laugh “I’m an idiot.”
Zoro raises an eyebrow “Well, yeah.”
You smack his arm. He smirks.
But when your hand lingers just a little too long, he doesn’t pull away.
And suddenly, you both understand... this isn’t just a habit.
It never was.
Ever since that conversation in the training room, things between you and Zoro have… shifted, but not in a bad way.
He still trains for hours. Still naps in random spots. Still bickers with Sanji.
But now, when you sit beside him, his arm naturally rests along the back of your chair.
Now, when you fight, he doesn’t just watch your back, he makes sure you’re never out of reach.
Now, when you look at him for a second too long, he looks right back.
Like he’s waiting.
Like he’s giving you the choice.
One evening, you find him on the Sunny’s deck, looking out at the ocean.
“…Can’t sleep?” he asks.
You shake your head, stepping closer “Thinking too much.”
Zoro smirks “Dangerous habit...”
You huff a laugh but don’t argue.
Instead, you stand beside him, silent for a moment before you finally ask...
“Do you regret telling me?”
Zoro frowns “Telling you what?”
“That you… actually treat me differently. That you want to.”
His jaw tightens slightly “No.”
Your heart does something strange “Good.”
You don’t give yourself time to hesitate.
Before doubt can creep in, you grab him and pull him down.
Zoro freezes.
For half a second, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t even breathe.
Then a quiet growl rumbles from his chest, and his hand cups the back of your neck as he kisses you back.
It’s firm. Solid. Like he’s been holding back for too long and refuses to anymore.
When you finally break apart, Zoro leans his forehead against yours, exhaling through his nose.
“…Finally” he mutters.
You grin “You were waiting for me?”
“Wasn’t gonna rush you” His fingers brush your jaw “You get there when you get there.”
You hum, leaning into him “And now?”
Zoro smirks “Now, you’re stuck with me.”
You kiss him again, just to make sure he knows you wouldn’t want it any other way.
── .✦ Vinsmoke Sanji:
Sanji has always been a flirt. That’s just how he is.
He calls Nami and Robin “my love” and “my dear”. He spins around the kitchen whenever they compliment him. He offers to carry their bags when the crew goes shopping.
But when it comes to you, it’s different.
It starts when the crew is eating dinner together.
“Sanji, can you pass the salt?” you ask.
Instead of handing you the salt shaker, Sanji grabs it, twists off the lid, and sprinkles just the right amount onto your plate.
You blink “Uh. Thanks?”
“Of course, my dear” he says smoothly. Then, as if nothing happened, he turns back to his own plate.
You think nothing of it... until you notice the way the others are watching.
Usopp raises an eyebrow “Did he just season your food for you?”
“Yeah?” You shrug “What's new about it? He's a chef and he’s just being nice.”
Luffy grins “He doesn’t do that for anyone else.”
“That’s not true,” you argue “Sanji treats everyone like this.”
Nami hums “Not exactly like this. If we wanted more salt he would start a lecture about how it would ruin his masterpiece.”
Before you can ask what she means, Sanji stands up to grab dessert. He places a plate in front of you first. It’s your favorite.
The crew stares.
You stare too “Sanji…”
He smiles “What? I made extra for you.”
Usopp coughs “Yeah. Okay. Totally normal.”
Robin chuckles behind her hand.
You shake your head and go back to eating. It’s nothing. Sanji is just being Sanji.
…Right?
But then, you start noticing other things.
When you’re cold, Sanji drapes his jacket over your shoulders without you asking.
When you need something from a high shelf, Sanji wordlessly reaches up and hands it to you.
When you’re about to trip, his hand is always there to steady you.
And every time, every single time, he does it so naturally that you don’t even think about it.
Until one day, Franky whistles and says, “You two sure act like a couple.”
You nearly drop the drink in your hands “What?!”
Sanji, who was stirring a pot at the stove, pauses.
Franky leans against the counter, grinning “You two do all that coupley stuff. He gives you the best food, takes care of you, treats you differently from everyone else—”
“That’s not true,” you say quickly “Sanji’s like this with everyone.”
Franky snorts “Nah. He does flirt with everyone. But this?” He gestures between you and Sanji “This is different.”
You glance at Sanji. He’s staring into the pot, silent.
Your face feels hot now “You guys are reading too much into things.”
“Sure we are...” Franky says, smirking. Then he leaves.
The kitchen is quiet now. You swallow and turn to Sanji.
“…Is it true?”
He looks at you. His usual confident smile is gone. Instead, there’s something softer in his eyes.
“I don’t know” he says “is it?”
Your heartbeat quickens.
Suddenly, every touch, every sweet gesture, it all feels different.
Maybe it wasn’t just a habit.
Maybe it was something else all along.
After all this the teasing has only gotten worse.
Ever since Nami and Usopp pointed out how Sanji treats you, they will not let it go.
“Here comes Sanji’s beloveeeed~” Usopp sings when you walk into the kitchen.
“I should start charging you for all the extra food Sanji makes only for you” Nami smirks.
Even Luffy, who usually doesn’t care about these things, grins at Sanji one afternoon and says “Oi, cook, when are you gonna marry y/n?”
Sanji chokes on his cigarette so hard he has to brace himself on the counter.
You groan and drag a hand down your face.
But what really drives you insane?
Sanji never denies it.
He stutters, blushes, waves his hands, but he never says “That’s not true.”
Because it is true.
And it’s starting to drive you crazy.
You try to ignore it. But then you start noticing things, even the smallest ones.
Sanji never lets you carry anything heavy.
He always pours you tea first, even before Nami and Robin.
He adjusts your chair at dinner like it’s second nature.
And the worst part? He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it.
But you do.
And now, every time he gives you that look—the one that’s soft, full of admiration, like you hung the damn sun in the sky—your heart stumbles over itself.
This has to stop.
Or something has to change.
It happens one evening after dinner.
You’re in the kitchen, helping Sanji clean up. He hums as he washes the dishes, sleeves rolled up, golden hair falling over his forehead.
You watch him for a second, then take a deep breath.
“Sanji.”
He glances at you, smiling “Yes, my love?”
You grip the counter “Why do you act like we’re together?”
Sanji freezes.
The faucet keeps running. The kitchen is warm with the smell of spices. But Sanji is frozen.
Slowly, he turns his head toward you “…P-Pardon?”
You cross your arms “You treat me differently. Even the crew notices. You never do this stuff for anyone else.”
Sanji swallows hard “I—”
“You never deny it,” you press “and honestly? I’m tired of waiting for you to finally say something.”
Sanji stares at you like you’ve just flipped his entire world upside down.
His hands shake. His lips part like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.
“…Sanji.” Your voice softens “Do you want this to be real?”
A shuddering breath leaves him. He looks at you, eyes wide, vulnerable.
“More than anything...” he whispers.
Your heartbeat stutters.
That’s it. That’s all you need to hear.
You step forward, grab the front of his shirt, and kiss him.
Sanji malfunctions.
His entire body locks up, like his brain has completely short-circuited.
For a solid two seconds, he does not move.
Then a noise escapes him, something between a whimper and a desperate sigh, and his hands come up to cup your face, pulling you closer.
The kiss is warm, overwhelming, but soft, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he holds on too tight.
When you finally pull away, he’s redder than his own suit.
“…M-Mon amour,” he breathes, voice shaking “You...you actually...”
You smirk “Took us long enough, cook.”
Sanji makes a strangled sound and immediately buries his face in your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you.
Outside, the crew is losing their minds.
“TOLD YOU!” Usopp shouts.
“I WON THE BET!” Nami cheers.
“Oi, Sanji, you alive in there?” Zoro snickers.
Sanji doesn’t answer. He’s too busy melting against you, whispering sweet nothings into your skin.
And honestly?
You think you’ll let him.
── .✦ Trafalgar D. Law:
Law is not the kind of person who likes physical contact. He doesn’t let most people touch him. He keeps his distance, always standing at the edge of conversations with his arms crossed. If someone bumps into him, they get a glare.
But for some reason, you are different.
It starts when Bepo hands you a coat one evening.
“Here,” he says, tail flicking “you left this in the lounge.”
You blink at it. It’s black, long, and definitely not yours.
“This isn’t mine” you say, confused.
Bepo tilts his head “Oh. But you always wear the captain’s coat, so I thought it was yours now...”
You freeze.
“Wait. What?”
Shachi walks by and hears the conversation. He grins “Yeah, you totally do. Every time you’re cold, you steal his coat.”
Penguin nods “And Law never complains.”
You open your mouth. Close it. Try to remember.
…Okay, maybe you have borrowed Law’s coat a few times. But that’s just because it’s warm! And because it’s there! And because...
Oh no.
Your stomach twists “I... I do not...”
“Sure you don’t...” Shachi teases “What’s next? Calling him ‘dear’?”
You groan and shove the coat at Bepo before walking away.
But now, you can’t stop thinking about it.
After this, you start noticing other things. Like how Law always lets you into his personal space.
How you can tug his hat down over his eyes without him pushing you away.
How he casually rests his hand on your shoulder when he stands next to you.
One day, you trip over a loose crate. Before you even hit the ground, a familiar blue glow surrounds you... Law’s Room.
In an instant, you’re back on your feet, completely unharmed.
The Heart Pirates snicker.
“Captain didn’t even think” Penguin whispers.
“He never uses Room for anyone else’s clumsiness” Shachi adds.
You glare at them “I heard that.”
They just smirk.
Law doesn’t say anything. He just sighs and keeps walking, like saving you without thinking is the most natural thing in the world.
Your heart does something weird. You ignore it.
Later, you sit on a crate, arms crossed. Law stands next to you, reading a medical book.
You glance at him “Your crew keeps calling me ‘Captain’s partner.’”
He doesn’t look up “So?”
“So, why?”
He flips a page “Probably because you act like one.”
Your brain short-circuits.
You stare “Excuse me?”
Law finally looks at you, raising an eyebrow “You’re always in my quarters, you steal my coat, and you act like you belong next to me. They’re not wrong.”
Your face burns “I... You let me do all that!”
He smirks “I know.”
You open your mouth, but no words come out.
Because suddenly, you realize... he has let you. And he still is.
Ever since Bepo and the others pointed out how Law treats you differently, it’s been impossible to ignore.
The extra care during missions. The way he always stands just a little closer than necessary. The way he lets you touch him, his arm, his shoulder, even his hand, when no one else would dare.
But what really gives him away?
The way his ears burn red every time you get too close.
And yet he never says anything.
If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was running an experiment to see how long he could keep this up before you lost your mind.
So tonight you’re calling him out.
You find him in his quarters, buried in medical books.
“Hey, Law.” You lean against the desk, arms crossed “Can I ask you something?”
His eyes flick up “What?”
You tilt your head “Do you like me?”
Law chokes.
Not just a little cough... he full-on chokes on air, slamming his book shut as if that’ll somehow save him.
“What—?!” He coughs into his fist “Where the hell did that come from?”
You raise an eyebrow “You tell me.”
Law scowls, shifting uncomfortably “You’re being ridiculous.”
“Oh? Am I?” You step closer.
He stiffens “What are you...?”
You place your hands on the arms of his chair and lean in, caging him in.
His breath hitches.
Oh. Oh.
He is not prepared for this.
“Law,” you murmur, watching his face closely “you never let anyone touch you, but you let me.”
His jaw clenches “That doesn’t—”
“You always make sure I rest. You check my injuries before anyone else’s.”
“Because you’re reckless—”
“And...” you lean even closer “your ears are red right now.”
Law swallows.
You smirk “So, wanna try again?”
For a long moment, he just stares at you, lips parted, golden eyes darting between yours.
Then, in a last-ditch effort, he growls... “You’re annoying.”
You hum “Maybe.”
And then you kiss him.
Law goes still.
For the first time since you’ve known him, he is completely speechless.
But then a quiet sound escapes him, and his hand suddenly grips your wrist, holding you there.
You almost pull back, unsure, until his other hand slides around the back of your neck, fingers threading into your hair, and he kisses you back.
It’s hesitant at first, but when you don’t pull away, something shifts.
The kiss deepens, his grip tightens, and the heat radiating off of him is enough to make you dizzy.
When you finally part, Law exhales sharply, pressing his forehead against yours.
“…You’re gonna be a problem” he mutters, voice rough.
You grin “Yeah?”
His fingers tighten in your hair “Yeah.”
And then, despite everything, he kisses you again.
Because for once in his life he’s done running.
── .✦ Portgas D. Ace:
Ace is naturally affectionate.
He throws an arm around people’s shoulders, laughs loudly, and grins like the world is a joke he’s in on. He’s warm but also because he makes people feel welcome.
So it’s not weird that he touches you a lot.
Right?
It starts when Marco sits down next to you, smirking.
“You and Ace finally together, yoi?”
You look at him confused “what do you mean?”
“A couple… are you two a couple?”
You almost drop your drink “What? No!”
Marco raises an eyebrow “You sure? He always saves you a seat at meals. Always gives you his food if you ask. Always keeps an eye on you during fights.”
You roll your eyes “That doesn’t mean anything. He’s just like that.”
“Not with everyone” Marco takes a sip of his drink “Just you.”
You open your mouth to argue, but then you don’t know what to say, because now, you’re thinking about it.
The next time Ace sits beside you at dinner, you notice how he slides his plate a little closer to yours, letting you steal his food.
The next time the crew docks at an island, you notice how he instinctively waits for you before walking off together.
The next time you’re about to trip, you don’t even get the chance to fall, Ace grabs your wrist and steadies you like it’s second nature.
And maybe it is second nature.
“Careful, Ace,” one of the division commanders teases “If you keep acting like that, y/n might actually think you’re in love.”
Ace laughs, scratching the back of his head “Yeah, yeah.”
You laugh too. Because it’s just a joke… Right?
One night, you sit together on the deck, watching the ocean.
You fidget for a second before saying “The crew keeps calling us a couple”
Ace hums “Yeah?”
You glance at him “Why do you think that is?”
He leans back, arms behind his head, and grins “Probably because we act like one.”
You choke on your own breath “Excuse me?!”
Ace tilts his head “I mean, we do everything together. You always take my food, and I always let you. You always pull me out of trouble, and I always let you. Feels natural, doesn’t it?”
Your brain short-circuits.
Because now that you think about it... yeah, it does feel natural.
“…Ace,” you say slowly “Are we...?”
He looks at you, amusement flickering in his eyes “What do you think?”
Your stomach flips.
Because suddenly, you’re not sure where the habit ends and the feelings begin.
After this, Ace keeps flirting with you all the time.
It’s just who he is.
Winks across the deck. Throwing an arm around your shoulders. Calling you hot stuff like it’s your actual name.
You’re used to it.
But after the teasing from Marco and Thatch, after realizing that Ace treats you differently, you start to wonder.
Is he just playing around? Or is there something real underneath?
There’s only one way to find out.
The perfect opportunity comes one afternoon, when Ace flops down next to you on the Moby Dick’s deck, grinning.
“Hey,” he drawls, resting an arm behind his head “Miss me?”
You smirk “I saw you literally two hours ago.”
“That’s two hours too long.” He winks “Bet you were thinking about me the whole time.”
You hum, tilting your head “You really think that, huh?”
Ace chuckles “C’mon, you love me.”
You raise an eyebrow “Prove it.”
He blinks “Huh?”
You shift, leaning closer with a sly smile “You say all this stuff, Ace. You flirt, you tease... but are you actually serious?”
For the first time, he hesitates.
Just for a second, but it’s enough.
“…Of course I am,” he says, but his usual confidence isn’t all there.
You smirk “Then show me.”
Before he can react, you grab his hat, his precious hat, and plop it onto your own head.
Ace short-circuits.
“Oi! That’s...!” He reaches for it instinctively but stops mid-motion, staring at you.
You tilt the brim with a smirk “What? You said you liked me, right?”
Ace swallows “Y-Yeah?”
“Then just take it back.”
You expect him to snatch it back playfully.
What you don’t expect is for Ace to grin, eyes flickering with mischief, and suddenly tackle you onto the deck.
You yelp as he hovers over you, forearms braced on either side of your head.
The crew whoops in the background, but neither of you pay them any attention.
Ace smirks down at you “You think you’re funny, huh?”
You grin “A little.”
Ace shakes his head, chuckling, but then his expression softens.
He reaches up, tilts the hat back just enough to see your face properly.
And then without thinking he leans down and kisses you.
It’s grinning into the kiss kind of playful. It’s warm and teasing but full of something deeper.
And when he pulls back, face way too close, he murmurs “Now you gotta prove it.”
Your heart races.
You don’t back down. Instead, you tug him down by his necklace and kiss him again.
This time, Ace melts.
When you finally break apart, Ace huffs out a breathless laugh.
“Well,” he grins “Guess you do love me.”
You roll your eyes “Shut up.”
But you don’t stop him when he kisses you one more time.
Because, honestly?
He’s right.
── .✦ Sabo:
Sabo is easy to be around.
He’s kind, smart, and always ready to listen. He laughs at your jokes, never forgets your favorite things, and somehow always knows when you need him.
So it’s no surprise that you spend a lot of time together.
But apparently, the way you act around him is a little… suspicious.
It starts when you’re walking through the Revolutionary Army base with Koala.
“So,” she says casually “when are you and Sabo going to make it official?”
You nearly trip over your own feet “What?!”
Koala grins “Come on, don’t play dumb. You two already act like a couple.”
You scoff “No, we don’t.”
She raises an eyebrow “Oh really? Who’s the first person Sabo looks for when he gets back from a mission?”
“…Me.”
“Who’s the only person he lets borrow his gloves?”
“…Me.”
“And who’s the only one he lets fall asleep on his shoulder without complaining?”
You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.
Because—oh.
Oh.
Koala smirks “See what I mean?”
You shake your head “That doesn’t mean anything. We’re just close.”
She shrugs “If you say so.”
But now, you can’t stop thinking about it. You start noticing things, like how Sabo always finds a reason to sit next to you during meals, or how he reaches out to fix your collar or tuck your hair behind your ear like it’s normal, or how he always makes sure you have a blanket when you fall asleep at your desk, even though no one else gets that treatment.
And the worst part?
Now that you’re paying attention, everyone else is too.
“I swear, it’s like they’re married” one soldier mutters.
“They finish each other’s sentences” another whispers.
“Bet they don’t even realize” someone else chuckles.
You groan and drop your head onto the table.
Sabo, sitting beside you, blinks “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing” you mumble.
He frowns, then wordlessly slides his drink toward you.
You stare at it “…Did you just give me your drink?”
He shrugs “You like it more than I do.”
You glance around. Several soldiers are watching now, smirking.
Slowly, you push the drink back to him.
Sabo looks confused “You don’t want it?”
Your face burns “Nope. I’m fine.”
He tilts his head, then shrugs and takes a sip.
The others snicker.
You sigh.
Later that night, you sit beside him on the rooftop, watching the stars.
“Sabo,” you say carefully “do we… act like a couple?”
He hums “Why?”
“People keep saying we do.”
Sabo leans back on his hands, thinking. Then he smiles “I guess I can see why.”
Your heart skips a beat “You can?”
“Well, we’re always together,” he says easily “I trust you more than anyone. You take care of me, I take care of you. Feels normal.”
You stare at him “That’s… kind of a couple thing, don’t you think?”
Sabo looks at you for a long moment. Then he smirks.
“Well,” he says, voice teasing but gentle “do you want it to be?”
Your breath catches.
And suddenly, the answer seems obvious.
Sabo has always been easy to be around.
You never have to force a conversation. Never have to second-guess his presence.
He’s just there, a steady warmth beside you, the hand that always steadies your back when you walk through the Revolutionary camp, the person you find yourself naturally leaning against when you’re tired.
And the thing is?
He never pulls away.
Even now, sitting beside you near the fire after a long day, his arm rests lightly along the back of your seat. Close enough to feel, but not demanding.
It’s natural.
But tonight, something’s different.
There’s a quiet between you, not uncomfortable, but charged with something unsaid.
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly your head is resting against his shoulder, and instead of shifting away, Sabo just exhales softly, tilting his head against yours.
You close your eyes, feeling the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing.
“…I like this” you murmur, barely thinking.
Sabo hums “Me too” A pause. Then... “I always have.”
Your heart stutters.
Slowly, you lift your head, turning just enough to meet his gaze.
His expression is calm, too calm, like he’s waiting for you to understand something he’s known for a long time.
And you do.
Because of course it was always him.
You don’t say anything. You don’t need to.
Instead, you reach up, gently tracing your fingers along his jaw.
Sabo closes his eyes briefly at the touch before opening them again, watching you with something unreadable, something deep.
Then, without hesitation, he leans in.
The kiss is slow, certain.
It’s not rushed, not desperate because this was never a question.
It was always going to be this.
When you part, Sabo lingers, his forehead resting against yours.
His hand finds yours, fingers lacing together easily.
“…Feels like we should’ve done that a long time ago” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours.
You smile “Maybe. But I think we got here at the right time.”
Sabo chuckles softly, squeezing your hand “Yeah. I think so too.”
And when he kisses you again, it feels like something that was simply meant to be.
The following weeks in Wano were peaceful for you and Zoro. Most mornings he wakes up before you to work out and attempts to make you breakfast. You found it endearing that he was trying to treat you. You’d then get ready for the day, prepping to leave for your flower stall. While you’d work at the stall, he’d walk the city spreading flyers and circling back to you to visit and check on you every once in a while. You’d return home to cook dinner and enjoy some time with your “husband”, sometimes with your neighbors.
This peaceful and calm routine made you realize how chaotic being a pirate really was, not that you didn’t love it- but it made you think that once you all accomplished your goals, you might want to settle down.
On one particular day, you and Zoro decided to go out on a night walk to enjoy the weather, as in you dragged him out with the promise of a drink when you both returned. As you walked the streets enjoying the breeze, your hand firmly latched onto Zoro’s bicep. Something he makes sure you do every time you walk together. As you both stroll, Zoro suddenly stops jerking you back. You look back at him in confusion.
“What's wrong Zo?” You question curiously, observing the scowl on his face.
“I smell blood.” He whispers in a low tone. “Stay behind me.” He grabs you, placing you behind him with a firm grasp on your wrist.
You do as he says, then see a man with a sword running past the two of you. Zoro getting in an offensive stance, but not letting go of you for a second.
“Where are you going, buddy? I smell blood on you.” He says smirking at the man. The killer seeing Zoro getting ready to fight, turns and continues to run.
After the man disappeared you let out the breath you were unknowingly holding. You both turn your heads towards a crowd quickly approaching. A group of policemen surround the two of you, panicking you grab onto Zoro who begins to explain.
“The man you're after ran that way.” He points down the street.
“You are the man we are looking for! You murderer!” They yell at him.
“He is no killer! A man with a sword just ran down the street and Zorojuro protected me from him!” You scream at the group of them.
“Quiet woman! Do not protect this man!” They say as they grab him, attempting to remove you from him.
“No! It wasn’t him!” You begin to cry, “Get your hands off my husband, you have the wrong man!”
Zoro looks at you to back up as he begins to draw his swords. You realize he must fight or else they will take him away, you look at him with a worried look. “Remember not to cause trouble” you whisper. Zoro hears you and puts his swords away.
“I’ll get you out, I don’t know how but I will.” You whisper to him.
“Don’t worry princess, I’ll return to you.” He flashes you a grin before the policemen cuff him and start dragging him away.
You fall onto the ground, tears falling from your cheeks as you realize how bad the situation is. After a few minutes of silent crying, you get up brushing yourself off. You start the trek to find your other companions at your meeting place.
The misty fog covers the mountain as you walk to the abandoned house, entering to find your companions. At the noise of you entering, they all quickly look at you, seeing your red and puffy face from crying as well as your disheveled kimono. A few of them rush to you to see if you are hurt while the others ask what happened.
You begin to break down on the floor, explaining how they took him between sobs, how you saw the actual killer, and how you told Zoro not to make trouble. You exasberatedly finish your explanation by asking what to do. You look at kin’emon while he thinks.
“We can’t interfere and risk them discovering the plan.” He says calmly.
“I agree, we need to keep our cover. And getting Zoro back will blow it. We will just have to hope they realize he’s not the killer.” Law agrees.
You begin crying harder, yelling at them “They will kill him! They aren’t listening to reason! We can’t just leave him there.”
“He will be fine y/n, he is a strong swordsman and will escape if he feels they will kill him. Just have trust in your crewmate.” Kin’emon says as he places a hand on your shoulder. “Return to your home, and continue your mission. You mustn’t stray from the plan.”
You sob into your hands thinking about what could happen to Zoro. You get up and run out of the ruins, away from your companions. You run, returning to your and Zoro’s home. Devastated to not see him there. You quietly get ready for bed, showering and retreating to your side of the bed. Unable to sleep, you think about Zoro for the entire night, worrying about him.
Unknown to you, Zoro had fought the government officials early in the morning, escaping and killing the real street slasher. Unfortunately, no one believed him, making him a wanted man in all of Wano.
The few hours of sleep you managed to get were interrupted by a loud crash of the door opening. You startle awake to see Zoro in the room shirtless and clearly running from where he last fought. As soon as you see him you jump out of the bed and run to him, wrapping your arms around him as he grabs your waist and nuzzles into the crook of your neck.
“It's good to see you, princess, I told you I’d be back. But we have to go now. I didn’t want to leave you in the city alone, so come with me and we can find a new town to go to and continue our mission.” He says pulling away from you. You nod and begin to throw as much as you can into a bag, frantically trying not to forget anything.
As soon as Zoro sees you have most of what you’d both need he picks you up, throws you over his shoulder, and begins to run out of the house, making his way out of the city as quietly as he can. You hit his back telling him you can run on your own, but despite this, he doesn’t waiver only continuing to run.
Eventually, when you make it out of the city he places you down. You scowl at him quietly while fixing your kimono, him laughing at your death glare. He picks up your bag slowly walking in the direction away from the city, you quietly follow him.
After a while of walking, you find yourselves in a desert-like area, when out of nowhere you both hear a woman scream. Zoro grabs you once again running towards where you both heard the scream. Once there, he puts you down behind him to assess what's going on. He draws his swords ready to fight when suddenly you see a large lion dog thing running at the group of you.
“Uhh.. Zoro.” You say
“Not now love. Gotta take care of these guys.” He says smirking at the men he's about to fight.
“No Zoro, look.” You tug on his sleeve pointing to the lion dog running at you.
“Oh shit.” He says, seeing what you meant now.
“Wait a minute. Is that?” You being to question.
“Hahahah, it's Luffy!” Zoro exclaims happily.
He quickly grabs you and the woman, getting ready to jump onto the running lion dog. As soon as it gets close enough he yells at Luffy gaining his attention. You watch as Luffy’s face brightens and waves at you. Zoro jumps onto the moving lion dog, placing you and the woman down after. As Zoro and Luffy reunite you look back to realize the group of men bothering the woman are chasing after you.
“Luffy, Zoro, those guys are still after us.” You yell at them. They turn to look, gaining serious looks on their faces. You look over to see a small child in Luffy’s lap, clearly sick.
You run over to her, taking off your outer layer of clothing to make a pillow for her, attempting to make her more comfortable.
“Luffy, who is this? What happened?” You question quickly.
“That’s Tama, she’s sick and I’m trying to get her to a doctor.” He says not looking back at you. “Take care of her while Zoro and I deal with these guys.” As he finishes saying that to you, Zoro and Luffy jump off the lion dog, getting ready to fight the men approaching.
The woman comes over to help you care for the child, as you check her temperature. You both look at each other in worry for her health.
“Oh O’Tama, please get better soon.” The woman quietly says to the child.
“Do you know her?” You ask in surprise.
“I do, she is a friend of mine.” She smiles at you. “ I know where we need to go once we can get away from these men.”
You turn, watching as Zoro and Luffy fight. You giggle realizing Luffy is fighting with a sword, but still punching rather than cutting. You laugh more when you realize how upset Zoro is about it. You watch as they take down the entire group with only one blonde man on a horse left.
Then a large straw being starts forming out of the man, hovering in the sky above him. You look in horror at the creature, praying that Zoro and Luffy take it down quickly. You yell at them “Zoro, Luffy! We must hurry, O’Tama isn’t doing well!” They look back at you, agreeing to get on the lion dog and outrun the beast.
Once they were on the lion dog, it began to run away from the man and creature in the sky. But suddenly the giant doll chased after you all, swiping its hand at you. But before it could hit any of you, Zoro stopped it with his swords, pushing it off. The lion dog, after recovering from the pressure of the attack, continued to run.
After fighting and running for a few minutes, Zoro cut its arm off. Finally, you all began to get too far from the man on the horse to continue to attack you. The lion dog continued to run as fast as it could, the woman now giving it directions to her village.
You turn to face Luffy, “When did you get here?” You laugh.
“Not too long ago! Met Tama and now I’m here!” He says excitedly giggling after.
“Man is it good to see you,” Zoro says to Luffy.
The lion dog begins to halt to a stop as you approach a house. The woman turned to say to all of you “We are here, quickly get Tama inside and I will treat her with some tea.”
You pick up the girl, get off the giant lion dog, and run inside. Before entering you noticed a large man bothering a tea waitress, “Zoro go deal with that man” You look at him. He huffs in response looking at the man.
You help the woman feed O’Tama the tea, seeing her sickness ease already. You decide to go outside to make sure that Zoro handled that man. As you exit you see him talking to the waitress with Luffy, the woman you saved behind you.
You all gather together as the woman introduces herself as Tsujuro and explains O’Tama’s condition and that she will be okay. You all sigh in relief knowing she is going to be okay.
“And may I know the names of the people that saved me?” Tsujuro asked. Zoro quickly covers Luffys mouth before he can say anything.
“I’m Zorojuro, this is my wife O’y/n, and this is Luffytaro.” Zoro quickly says.
“Wife? When did you guys get married?” Luffy questions in confusion. You facepalm at his lack of understanding of your cover.
“We’ve always been married.” Zoro seethes at Luffy while kicking him quietly. It finally clicked for Luffy after his assault.
“OH, oh yeah yeah sorry I forgot, definitely always been married.” He says in realization.
You shake your head at the ridiculousness of the situation.
“It's okay, I know you all are foreigners. I won’t tell.” Tsujuro and Kiku laugh.
As you all sit and talk you seem to zone out, staring off into the town, when you see a familiar face. You squint to try to see them better to figure out who it is you know, when you realize. Your face goes pale and you become frozen in fear. Zoro immediately notices, looking to see what you’re looking at. He shakes you. “Hey, what happened? What’s going on?” He questions panicked at your demeanor.
“Zoro” You whisper, “That's him, that's the man that kidnapped us in Dressrosa.” You say quietly so as not to alarm anyone around.
At this, Zoro grabs you and takes you inside, as unsuspiciously as possible. Confused everyone follows you both inside wondering about your sudden exit. Once they enter, Zoro slams the door shut, startling everyone in the room.
“What happened Zorojuro?” Tsujuro asks before looking over to you, seeing you pale and in shock, she lets out a gasp and runs to comfort you. “O’y/n are you okay?”
“What happened,” Luffy asks seriously.
Zoro approaches Luffy to whisper in his ear, “The kidnapper was in the town.”
Luffy’s face grims thinking about it. He begins to turn around rolling up his sleeves, clear he wants to fight.
“No Luffy, we can’t bring attention to her. They don’t know she's in Wano. If we go fight then it’ll bring attention to her and us. They might leave if they realize she’s not here.” Zoro talks some sense into Luffy, calming him down while also trying to convince himself not to fight.
“What’s going on?” Kiku asks, clear she won’t take any bullshit.
You point to her crescent tattoo and say to Zoro and Luffy, “We should go, Kiku would you care to join us for a walk? Tsujuro do you mind if we leave O’tama in your care for a bit?”
“No problem, I was planning on making her stay for a while anyways,” Tsujuro responds.
You get up pulling Kiku, and the two boys outside.
“You are a friend of Kin’emon’s correct?” You question.
“Yes, I am.” She responds.
“Alright, we should meet with them and share what we’ve learned.” You say, beginning to walk in the direction of the ruins.
You all walk in silence until Luffy and Kiku begin to talk, while they are distracted Zoro leans over to you and asks, “You alright?”
“I don’t know, I thought I would be safe from them here. But I guess not.” You say quietly and sadly.
Zoro wraps an arm around you, “ I won’t let them near you, you have nothing to worry about.” You smile up at him, quietly thanking him for his protectiveness.
You all continue your walk, Zoro refusing to leave your side, keeping his arm firmly planted around you.
Hey guys! Sorry it's been a while, I went back to school and tbh nobody told me my second year in college or engineering would be this hard (they definitely did). But I’m making it thru! Only two more weeks T-T. But I checked on this story and saw 1.2k reads and never would’ve thought anyone would read this let alone that many of you (literally gonna cry). And I loved reading your comments. So here I am to update! I am sorry it took so long but I promise to actually finish it this time :) XOXO
Fluff, 1.7k words, lots of plot points glossed over from the manga/anime (sorry!)
Zoro x Reader
Masterlist
Part 8: A Samurai and a Florist
The next day you all convene to discuss the plan going forward. As you sit you watch Zoro making your tea, just how you like it, and coming to sit next to you, handing you your tea and placing his free arm around you. You lean into him quietly sipping on your tea while you wait for the rest of the crew. Once everyone was there Kin’emon started.
“We must go to Zou to reunite with your crew and find my friend! We will stop at Zou and continue to Wano after reuniting with everyone.” He exclaims.
The plans continue with the usual mapping and joking around. You all were not worried about getting to Zou, especially with Sanji there first to check everything out.
---- (Time skip past Zou events)
After the long process of getting to Zou, fighting, not fighting, fighting again, realizing Sanji’s gone, and finding Kin’emon’s friend was over you all realized you needed another plan.
“Alright, guys!” Nami yells at everyone sitting in a circle talking to get their attention. “Let's figure this out.” She says with a worried but determined look. “Okay we need to split up, half of us will go with Law’s crew and kin’emon and co. to Wano, and the other half will take the Sunny to Big Mom to get Sanji back, we just need to figure out who.” She explains.
“I’m going to get Sanji,” Luffy says with an unnaturally serious look on his face.
“Count me in too!” Says Brook, Chopper, Usopp, and some Minx.
“Okay, I’ll go with you guys to navigate the Sunny.
“Count me out, I ain’t savin' that shitty cook’s shitty life,” Zoro says leaning back on a tree. “And y/n is coming with me, the celestial dragons can’t get to her on Wano.” You hum in agreement at his statement.
“Alright then I think Zoro, y/n, Robin, and Frankie should go with Law, and we will all meet back up in Wano,” Nami says.
Everyone agrees and we all begin to pack to leave Zou. You become uneasy as you realize you’ll have to work with Law, nervous he’ll be upset about your last conversation. But you quickly shake it off knowing it can’t be avoided.
You get to Law’s ship with everyone else, Zoro is unusually close to you. You look up at him with a confused look as if asking ‘What’s up?’. He just nods over to Law and you nod in response, understanding he’s keeping him away from you.
Bepo showed you and the rest of the strawhats to an extra room you’d be using to sleep while traveling. As you walk in you see two small twin beds and two hammocks, four places to sleep, and five people.
Robin is already making one of the small beds for herself and Frankie and Usopp are getting comfortable in the hammock, so that leaves Zoro and you to the last twin bed. He didn’t even flinch, already on the bed getting comfortable and falling asleep. You giggle to yourself as you push him over to make room for yourself.
----
The days flew by quickly on your way to Wano, Zoro made sure that Law never came close to you, not that you were worried if he did. On the last day, you finally arrived, finding a cove to hide Law’s ship in and hiking up to a remote area to discuss your next steps.
That’s when Kin’emon revealed the reason you all were there, and how he and his friends had gotten there too. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but of course, Zoro had no reaction. You look at him dumbfounded that he's not the least bit confused or surprised.
“What? We’ve heard crazier.” He says nonchalantly.
“Have we?” You cross your arms in questioning.
“No, not at all.” He says leaning back on a rock. You giggle at his demeanor.
Your attention is taken from Zoro as Kin’emon starts to describe his plan.
“We will have all of you go undercover and spread these flyers to anyone with the crescent tattoo on their ankle. This message they will understand. Frankie, you will go undercover as a craftsman apprentice, and see if you can retrieve the blueprints of Kaido’s mansion from your boss. Robin, you will go undercover as a Geisha, your mission is to get close to the Shogun. Usopp, you will be a salesman and you will spread the flyers in the capitol. Zoro and y/n, you both will go undercover together as a samurai and flower shop owner. y/n I am putting Zoro with you to ensure he will not cause trouble as a foreign swordsman.” You giggle at Kin’emon’s comment.
“Hey! I don’t get into trouble… that often” Zoro whispers the last part. You laugh at his defense.
Kin’emon begins to hand out locations of apartments and houses we may stay at as well as stacks of flyers to hand out. Kin’emon then gives you all the clothes and hairstyles to fit in.
---
As you walk through the busy streets of the flower capital you smell all the delicious food stands nearby, watching people rush from building to building, as well as others on a casual stroll. You notice Zoro is beginning to turn in the wrong direction, so to prevent him from getting lost you grab his hand.
“I am not dealing with your directionless ass right now pretty boy, stay with me for the love of-”
“Don’t gotta ask me twice,” he says smirking down at you, making it obvious how okay he is with holding your hand.
You both continue to walk around looking for your assigned house, eventually finding it and entering. You look around at the sad wood falling apart, and the floor with torn mats.
“I guess that’ll make do.” You sigh. “Where’s the beds?” You question looking around.
“You mean bed. And probably a futon in the closet.” Zoro says looking through the cabinets in the kitchen.
You laugh at his correction of you and go to look for the futon, eventually finding it and setting it up with fresh sheets.
“Any food in there?” you yell over to Zoro.
“Nah, don’t think so,” Zoro says back.
“Alright, I guess we’ll have to go out and get some then. You sigh.
You make your way past the kitchen heading for the front door, but before you can take another step you are grabbed by your waist and twirled facing the other direction with Zoro leaning down towards your face, with a cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“Where do you think you’re going.” He says teasingly.
“To the flower shop to see what I’m dealing with, and to get some food for dinner.” You lightly hit his chest, giggling.
“Hmm, I’ll come with.” He says letting you go.
---
Once you get to your stall, you realize that it's already stocked with most things you’d need thankfully. Suddenly the woman in the stall next to you comes over to speak to you.
“Hello darling, are you both new in town?” She says sweetly looking between you and Zoro.
“Yes, we are, we just got married and decided to move to the capital from our home village,” Zoro says before you could even think of responding. Realizing what he said, your cheeks flush pink at his words.
“Aw how cute, you two make a great couple, I must say. You will make beautiful children one day I’m sure.” The older woman says innocently smiling at the two of you. You nearly choke on air at her words, but Zoro hides you behind him, thanking the woman while ushering her back to her stall.
He comes back to you stuffing your face in your kimono’s sleeves hiding your bright red face. He lets out a hard laugh, grabbing your face and moving it to look at him, only making you blush harder. You lightly slap his arms away and begin to ready your flower stall as he laughs watching you.
You both decide to return home after “borrowing” some food, as Zoro calls it. You immediately begin to prep dinner when you return, making some rice and cutting some vegetables. Zoro announces he’s going to shower, you hum in response.
Suddenly, you turned around and pressed up against the counter with Zoro’s arms on either side of you. You get flustered at his actions trying to look away. Zoro leans down and whispers in your ear, “Want to join me, wife?” He asks in a deep tone. You freeze at his offer, face flushed with pink once again. He laughs at your reaction and backs off retreating to the bathroom. You quickly return to cutting vegetables to take your mind off it.
You finished making dinner as Zoro exited the bathroom. “Hey, dinner ready, go ahead and sit down. I’ll bring you a-” You stammer as you turn to look at a freshly showered Zoro with a towel barely hanging off his hips, leaving not much to the imagination. You stare for a good few seconds before you realize he’s laughing at you.
You set the small table while he changes, making sure to give him a nice large portion. As he sits down he looks at the food you made.
“Wait is this curry?” He asks excitedly.
“Yeah, I figured it would be easy and filling.” You casually say beginning to eat.
“I fucking love curry.” He says inhaling all of his food. You laugh at him, happy to know he likes the food you made.
Once you both finished, he washed the dishes while you showered. After your shower, you sat on the edge of the futon thinking about the day, when Zoro came in and practically tackled you down onto the bed. Both of you laughing as you recovered.
He grabbed onto your waist pulling you closer as you both go to bed. “Goodnight wife.” He whispers before you hear his soft snores filling the room. You melt into his touch at the thought of how much he loves to call you that, eventually allowing yourself to get lost in the comfort of sleep.
I've had this bouncing around in my brain for a few days and just needed to get it down :) This is lowk based off of my life so I apologize since its a niche situation. But enjoy some Bk fluff and lmk if you want another part to this!
Katsuki x Reader
2.3k words
Most days you wake up, go to class, study, and train late into the night. You are a busy person, with many priorities, but this didn’t stop you from making many friends. You got particularly close to Mina and Sero, and along with that the rest of the bakusquad- besides Bakugo himself of course. You had tried many times to befriend him but to no avail. You decided to give up since you were already a part of his friend group.
You tried your best to make time for your friends but most weeks you wouldn’t join the nightly hangouts. On any days off you went home to help your mom, only Mina truly knew why you were never in the dorms.
-
“Alright class, today we are-” Aizawa started his long speech about your new upcoming project. You start to zone out, but quickly focus again to get the project details, jotting down any important notes you might need.
“I am going to randomly assign partners for this, please do not ask to change because there will be no exceptions this time.” Mr. Aizawa says in his regular monotone voice.
He starts to list off the groups and eventually says your name.
“Y/n and Bakugo”
“Not that fucking nerd!!” Bakugo yells slamming his fist onto his desk.
“Shut it Bakugo,” Mr. Aizawa says activating his quirk on the rowdy student.
The rest of the day went by normally, you finished classes and began packing your stuff to study and train.
Around 1 am you get a text.
Bakugo
“Where are you dipshit”
Y/n
“Training, why?”
Bakugo
“Tf you training so late for, gts”
Y/n
“Dude leave me alone, what do you want”
Bakugo
“Friday at 11 am common room”
Y/n
“The project?”
He likes the message and the conversation ends. You look at the time and realize you should be going to bed soon, you do a few more reps before heading back to the dorm.
It's a cool night, as you walk a chill runs up your spine from the cold. You shake it off and continue to your dorms. As quietly as you can, you open the door and make your way to your room. You fall asleep to the crickets and cicadas chirping outside your window.
The week goes by quickly as the weekend approaches. You completely forgot about having Friday off, but Mina reminded you on Thursday to text your mom to remind her.
What everyone in the class doesn’t know is that your mom moved with you when you came abroad to study at UA. She and your little sister rent a small house not too far from campus. Your step-father refused to move with them, so on any days you have off you go home to watch your 2-year-old sister while your mom works. The only person who knows about this arrangement is your best friend Mina. She covers for you whenever you are there.
-
You wake up to the loud beeping of your alarm, as you look at it to shut it off it displays “4:30 am”. You groan and move to get up. Your mom starts work at 6 on the days you have off so you have to get to the house early so your sister isn’t home alone.
You grab your prepacked bag and school backpack and start your walk home. The sunrise is barely a sliver when you get there.
As you take care of your sister throughout the day, coloring, watching movies, and playing dress-up, it doesn’t matter what you do as long as she’s happy. Once you put her down for her nap, you throw yourself onto the couch half asleep. Then your phone starts going off over and over. You grumble something about a group chat and open your phone to see it’s Bakugo.
Bakugo
“Where are you dipshit”
“If you aren’t here in the next 3 minutes I’m blowing your ass up in your dorm”
“Why aren’t you in your dorm”
“ANSWER ME”
Bakugo has requested your location.
“Oh boy” You mumble to yourself
Y/n
“Chill dude, I’m sorry I forgot we were supposed to work on the project today, can we do it Monday?”
Bakugo
“NO, dumbass it's fucking due Monday”
“Where are you, answer the fucking phone now”
Y/n
“I can’t answer the phone rn”
Bakugo
“Well then SEND ME UR FUCKING LOCATION”
Y/n
“Will u chill tf out if I do?”
Bakugo likes the message.
Y/n started sharing their location with Bakugo
You huff and turn your phone off falling asleep on the couch. Not long after you wake up to three aggressive knocks on your front door. Knowing Bakugo you jump up to stop him from knocking more and waking your sister.
“Chill tf out, I’m right here,” You say as you open the door. Bakugo pushes past you walking into your house and turning to look at you.
“You are so fucking useless, we were supposed to have this project done today! I fucking should’ve done it myself” He says with his fingers on the bridge of his nose.
“Look, I’m sorry but Aizawa would know if you pulled that shit AGAIN”
“YOU FUCKING RATTED-”
You slam your palm on his mouth as he begins to yell. Shock is written across his face when he suddenly pushes you off him.
“What the fuck” He spits at you.
“You have to be fucking quiet dipshit” You whisper.
“Why wou-” He gets interrupted by your sister crying and running to you.
You pick her up gently and start to soothe her from her startling wake call as you glare daggers at Bakugo. He stands there in complete shock, this time not hiding it at all. You nod your head in the direction of your dining table and say, “Go set up there, we can work on it now.”
He doesn’t say a word while he gets his stuff out and sets up. You put your sister down to start making some lunch for her.
“Did you eat?” You ask not looking at him.
“What?” He asks snapping back to reality.
“Did you eat lunch?”
“Oh um no”
“Ok,” You say, silently making another serving more.
As you continue to cook and Bakugo silently sits there trying to think of what to say, he blurts out.
“So, who’s the father?”
You turn around from the stove and stare at him blankly for a second processing what he asked, then you see how serious his face is. You burst out laughing- “BAHAHAHA, WAIT,” you say wiping a tear forming in your eye from laughter. Bakugo glares at you to stop laughing. After you take a second to compose yourself you answer, “Bakugo, meet my sister, y/s/n.” You say as y/s/n goes up to Bakugo and hugs him. He has a horrified look on his face realizing what he just asked you.
He tries to jump away and get her off unsuccessfully. He accepts his fate and allows her to hug his leg.
The next few hours went by awkwardly, you served lunch and while your sister was busy eating you spent your time working on the project, allowing Bakugo to have a break and eat too. But as soon as your sister was done you were up and taking care of her again.
Hours go by and you realize you have to figure out dinner.
“Fuck” You whisper so your sister can’t hear. “What do you want for dinner Bakugo?” You ask from your sister’s makeshift playroom in the living room.
“I don’t know, don’t care.”
You look at him exasperated as you sigh and ask your sister.
“PIZZA!!!” Your sister says excitedly. You pick her up and gently whisper how you can’t afford to order pizza right now, and how you can make her something at home. She begins to sulk and goes back to her toys. You get up walk to the table and look at Bakugo to ask again.
“Wha-” You begin.
“I already ordered it.” He says not looking up from his notes.
“What?” You ask baffled.
“The pizza, I already ordered it.”
“Oh, you didn’t have to do that, seriously.”
“It's fine. She said she wanted pizza.”
“Okay, how much was it so I can pay you back.” You ask getting your wallet out.
“No.” He says not sparing you a look.
“What?” You ask again.
“I said no. Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, okay, well thank you.”
Once the pizza arrives you all sit down to eat, but once again you don’t eat so you can work on the project. As you sit at your laptop across from Bakugo eating his pizza, your laptop suddenly shuts.
“Wha- What the fuck man?!” You half-yell at Bakugo.
“You haven’t eaten all day, so eat the pizza and then I’ll watch your sister so you can work.”
“But-”
“No. I said what I said.” He stares at you, silently telling you that you won’t win any argument with him.
He kept true to his word, he took care of your sister while you worked efficiently on your project. Around 11:30 you come back to reality and close your laptop, realizing that you should have put your sister to bed long ago. You walk into the living room to see Bakugo and y/s/n on the couch watching her favorite movie, Totoro. Y/s/n being asleep on Bakugo you decide to sit on the other side of him and continue the movie.
“Everything is done, we just need to make the slides and practice.” You whisper.
“Alright cool, that should be easy.” He says continuing to watch the movie.
You look over and admire how calm he is. His arm wrapped around your sister, her head in his lap fast asleep. You had to admit, he was great with kids. While you were working he was playing dress up with her, you managed to snap a few photos of him with a tiara on before he noticed. He was so sweet and gentle with her all day, the opposite of his regular personality. He didn't call her a brat even once, not even one time?!?
He notices you staring and looks over, “What?” He says annoyed.
“Nothing,” You say silent for a few seconds, “Just- thank you for today.”
He lets out a scoff, showing you he was listening.
“Is this where you disappear every night?” He asks.
“What? Oh. no, I actually do train every night since I’m here on the weekends. I usually get up at 4:30 and either stay here or go back at 2 am.” You answer.
“You do this only on two and a half hours of sleep?” He asks with confusion and shock hinting in his voice.
“Yeah, I don’t have much of a choice. No one else can watch her.”
The conversation fades as you both focus back on the movie. Eventually leading to you falling asleep on him as well.
Bakugo sits there on your couch, with your sister asleep in his lap and you asleep on his shoulder. He quietly watches the movie until your mom returns from work. She opens the door and hears the T.V. on, so she goes to the living room to check and she sees all of you there. Bakugo’s head swings at the noise and sees her.
“Oh my, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to startle you. I didn’t know y/n had her boyfriend over!” She says quietly moving to sit on the adjacent couch.
“Oh- um, I’m not-” He starts.
“Here let me move her to bed, they both sleep like rocks don’t worry.” She says with a wink, picking up your sister and taking her to her bed. She returns to see Bakugo hasn’t moved with you still asleep on him.
“How long have you been here? I’m so sorry for any trouble they’ve caused.” Your mom laughs.
“I got here around noon. Me and y/n were supposed to work on a school project but she forgot so I came over to work on it.” He starts
“Oh! I’m so sorry about that dear.”
“It's okay.”
“So how long have you two been together?” She asks excitedly.
“We aren’t dating,” Bakugo says quietly still trying to not wake you up.
“Really? Huh, I swear I’ve heard y/n talk about you before.” A light shade of pink finds its way to Bakugo’s cheeks.
“Well, thank you for helping take care of my girls, I really appreciate it. You should stay here tonight, it's too late for you to go back to school. Y/n’s room is there and there are blankets in the closet.” Your mom says getting up to go to bed. “And thank you again Katsuki Bakugo.” She finally says before disappearing into her room.
Bakugo tightens up at the sound of his full name, knowing well that means y/n has talked about him enough for her mom to know who he is.
He decides to stay on the couch, not wanting to disturb your peace. He pulls a blanket on the both of you and shuts his eyes. He thinks about all the times he couldn’t spot you at parties or hangouts. Or how you would vanish off the face of the earth on weekends. It all made sense now, you were working yourself to the bone to take care of your family.
Bakugo always had a soft spot for you, which is why everyone would always make you ask him to hang out with them, even if you weren’t going to be there. He never knew why he was murder-y with you but it scared him so he pushed you away even more. Hence you trying to be friends with him but ‘failing’.
But now he’s here, lying on your couch with you on top of him asleep, coming to the realization that maybe his soft spot for you isn’t all that bad.
This is a new series! It takes place in a time skip BNHA, everyone is a pro-hero now. Not sure if I want it to follow the manga as a backstory but we will see! For now, all you need to know is that your quirk is tremor (also your hero name!) and you are able to make earthquakes, vibrate any object, or yourself. Your costume covers most of your face, and for the sake of the story so does Bakugo's. I will also be posting on Wattpad! Enjoy!
Masterlist
Bakugo Katsuki x Reader
Part 1: Mission Details
You and Bakugo have a not-very-long history. Short story short, you both are pro heroes who have been assigned on missions together a few times, and each time results in you two getting into a fight whether it be verbal or physical. Something about him makes your blood boil, and he just hates everyone. You have no problem with his friends, in fact, a few of them have become your best friends, unfortunately, all the closest ones to you are also his closest friends. They constantly try to make you two get along. But it never works.
On a previous mission, you two were chasing after a criminal, and after ‘Dynamight’ tripped over his own feet you laughed at him hysterically after capturing the criminal. This caused him to try to intimidate you which only made you laugh harder. This ended up in a fistfight as you can imagine.
You didn’t become a hero regularly. You decided to become a hero much later than most people, so instead of going back to school, you self-taught and took the provisional exam by yourself. This caused teachers from many schools to notice you and a lot of them offered to help you with some extra training. One of these teachers Aizawa, ended up becoming a sort of father figure to you, even though he hates to admit it.
No matter, you ended up becoming a top 10 hero anyway. You happened to be around the same age as class A, which is why you became fast friends with Mina especially, but also Jiro, Sero, Kaminari, Izuku, and Eijirou. An unexpected bunch to befriend but friends nonetheless. Unfortunately for you, this meant a lot of the time you couldn't hang out with them, due to Bakugo being their friend. This resulted in inviting a couple of them over at a time to avoid him.
-
It had been months since you’d seen Dynamight, let alone work with him. Most agencies knew not to pair you two together now, especially yours. You happen to work at the same agency but they do a great job of keeping you two apart. Or well, keeping Dynamight from other people.
You were in the middle of cooking dinner, making your favorite, Japanese curry. You’re cutting carrots to put in when your phone starts to ring.
Ring Ring Ring
You wipe your hands quickly and pick up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Hello, am I reaching Tremor?”
“Yes, speaking.”
“I am calling to inform you that
the agency is requesting your
attendance at an important meeting.”
“Hm, okay. What time tomorrow? I am suppos-”
“Now, Miss y/l/n”
Whoever had called you quickly hung up after that, it must be bad if they are calling you now and not giving details over the phone. You look at your freshly chopped vegetables and sigh. You assume if it's this important you don’t have time to put away your veggies let alone put your hero outfit on. So you grab your keys and coat and run out the door.
Once you arrive at the agency you see a lot of unknown faces, which makes sense considering no one was in their hero costume. They all made the same call as you, assuming it was too urgent to waste time. You run up the stairs to the conference room and see a bunch of your friends waiting outside. You run up to them waving and smiling, they wave you over quickly.
“Hey guys! Oh- oh hey fuckface” You say to Dynamight. You hate to call him his name, so you settle for his hero name.
“It hasn’t been long enough dipshit, get out of my face.” He spits.
“Hey, hey come on guys, let's get along for the sake of the meeting,” Mina says.
“Yeah it’ll only be an hour,” Denki says.
“Well at least I don’t look like I just walked out of a gang-owned tattoo parlor,” Dynamight says waving at you, referring to your outfit and piercings.
“Bakugo, you know people in America are different,” Sero says arguing for you.
“It's fine, I probably should’ve changed into my costume. But it looks like Dynamight had enough time to change into his clown costume.” You say pointing to his very similar outfit to yours. Mina coughs holding in a laugh.
“I’ll kill you raccoon eyes!” Dynamight yells, holding up a hand with small explosions.
Just as you are about to defend Mina, Aizawa comes out of the conference room and yells at the group of you to get inside. You and Dynamight glare at each other while you walk in. He sits next to Kirishima, whos sits next to Sero, whos sits next to Denki, whos sits next to Mina, who sat next to you.
As the meeting starts you look around to all the heroes you haven’t met before, silently hitting yourself in the head for not changing. But most people aren’t changed so it should be fine. One of the leaders of your agency gets up to start the meeting.
“I know we all called you in late, I apologize for that. Now I know this is an inconvenience, but please place all electronics in this bag, we will be placing this outside for security reasons.”
Dynamight scoffs while putting his phone in the bag. Soon you watch as they take the bag outside the conference room and into a secure location.
“Now, we can continue. As most of you know, we have been tracking the new League of Villains closely. Watching them until we can strike and take them down for good. Well, we have come into an issue. They are teaming up with the yakuza now and entering the drug dealing ring. We worry about them entering the human trafficking ring as well. To stop this, as well as continue our mission to end their group, we will be assigning missions.”
The leader clears their throat nervously and continues, clearly, they aren’t used to speaking in front of so many intently listening to heroes.
“Our goal is to infiltrate their ranks through the drug ring, obtain their trust, and take both them and the yakuza down from the inside. This will be a long-term mission that needs to start as soon as possible. The reason we have gathered so many of you here is because of how much we are asking from you with this mission. We understand many of you have families you must take care of. So once you hear the details of the mission we understand and encourage you to exit if you know you are unable to do this mission.”
A lot of people look around confused and a bit worried, until the speaker clears their throat again to gain attention.
“Now for the details. We will be assigning heroes in groups of two, you will go undercover for about a year. Of course, it may be sooner, or it may be longer. It truly depends on how efficiently we can infiltrate their ranks.”
At this many people gasp in shock. Almost no heroes have been assigned missions like this. This is usually the police’s job. Many people at this point get up and exit, leaving about half of the original heroes remaining. Dynamight tsk’s at this and mumbles something about being cowards.
“I know you all are probably wondering why heroes, and not the police. We believe by using heroes we will be able to send more people out undercover without the public noticing. And since most of you keep your faces covered in your costumes, people don’t know your true identities.”
The speaker abruptly bows and says, “ I know this is a lot to ask of you all, but I beg you to take this mission, this will stop so many crimes to come in the future, especially when it comes to the high school students at UA and other hero courses. I don’t need to explain to you all, considering you lived through it, how dangerous it is when villains target students. And we have gotten news that they are starting to plan attacks.” He then stands back up with a deadly serious look on his face. “I ask that you all go undercover as drug dealers/addicts/villains, gain their trust, join their ranks, and help us plan an attack. I know many people left already, but if you feel the need to leave now, please do.”
No one got up. We all sat with serious looks waiting for our instructions.
“We planned for this actually.” The speaker laughs a bit. “We had a feeling you all would be left and everyone else would leave. Because of this we already have your assignments. Since you all will be moving to different parts of the country, this assignment will start in a week and we suggest you all start packing. We will cover any rent or mortgage you owe during this time and will periodically check on your homes for you. Along with that, we will be giving you each credit card with access to bank accounts for your undercover missions, these will be used for any groceries or other expenses you find yourselves needing.”
“As I said before, you will be placed with one other partner that you will live with, we will give you fake stories and names for your roles. Each group will be stationed in different parts of Japan, but two groups will be in each part. That way you will have backup if needed. Some of you may choose to infiltrate together, and some may not. We will let you all decide how you do this.”
“And now for the assignments, we have assigned you all according to your quirk compatibility, social skills, public presence, and more. We want heroes who are unknown together, and more known heroes together in case one gets caught it will be caught early on. Mr. Aizawa, please.”
The speaker makes way for Mr. Aizawa to come up and start listing the pairings. He starts the list, name by name you impatiently wait for your hero's name to be called.
“Pinky, and Red Riot.” He says.
“Chargebolt, and Earphone Jack.”
You start to notice a pattern…
“Dynamight, and Tremor.”
Suddenly Dynamight slams his fists on the table and stands up.
“Oh hell no, I’m not working with that idiot.”
“I’m sorry Dynamight, all pairings are final, we paired everyone very thoughtfully.” The speaker says while Aizawa nods.
“Fuck” You say quietly, Mina rubs your arm and says it will be okay.
After the meeting, you all begin to exit and get your phones. You notice Dynamight in a one-way screaming match with the speaker. You know that no matter how much yelling he does you both are stuck together.
Objectively your quirks work well together, you disrupt the ground they are on, throwing them off balance and he blasts them, allowing his hits to land better. Everyone knew if you two got along you would be the most powerful duo in the history of heroes, not because of teamwork, but simply because you both are so powerful on your own that together it would be an overwhelming force.
You sighed and accepted your fate. Walking out with your friends to return home. You say your goodbyes and start walking home. Dynamight yells after you, “Hey Fuckface! Get back here I have our assignment.” You internally curse to yourself, of course, if he can’t change your assignment he’s going to get the details.
You make your way back to him and grab the folder from him.
“Hah! Kimiko to Kiyomi, real creative. BAHAHAHAA Bakugo to Tsukishima. You do not look like a tsukishima.” You laugh.
“Shut it fuckface.” He says angrily.
You’re face drops as you see the rest of the details.
“Oh fuck no”
“Yeah, that’s why I wanted to change it.” He says while walking away
You read over the details again and again hoping you misread it each time. You didn’t. You and Mr. Tsukishima will be going undercover as a couple in Tokyo. Backup: Mina and Kirishima. You start walking to catch up to him.
“You couldn’t get them to change it?!?” You ask waving the papers around.
“No dumbass, that’s why I’m down here. I wouldn’t be talking to you if I had.” He says not looking at you
“Fuck.”
You both walk in silence for a few minutes, you reading the details, and him walking with his hands in his pockets.
“We’re here,” He says nonchalantly.
“Wha- t” You say looking up at him and then around you. He walked you home while you were engrossed in reading the mission details. “Oh, um, thank you.” You say handing him the file.
“Yeah whatever extra, go pack.” He waves you off and starts walking in the other direction. ‘Doesn’t he live in the opposite direction of your apartment?’ You think to yourself. You shake away your thoughts and go inside. You see your vegetables and decide to make curry still, even if it's late. You only had a week left here so why not make the most of it?
Your heavy kisses lead into your hands moving on their own. You put one hand on his chest and the other around his neck in his hair. Zoro then lifts you up and leans against the door, unbreaking your kiss.
His hands move down towards your exposed ass due to your skirt. You can feel each calluse on his large hand as he moves to hold you down there. You work your hands up his shirt, feeling each of his toned muscles, hard under your touch.
Eventually, Both of you end up with your shirts off. You break the kiss to take a second to admire his hard-earned body.
“Like what you see?” He laughs with a smirk plastered on his face.
“Love it.” You say as you move to attack his neck.
Each small bite you give results in him releasing the breath he was unknowingly holding. You leave a few marks making your way up his neck, once reaching his face, taking a second to look at him. He smiles at you warmly.
“Havin' fun?” He asks smirking again.
“Loads” You smile.
“My turn.” He says while going down to your neck.
He was much gentler than you thought he would be. “Not going easy on me, are you?” You tease.
“Oh hell no, just enjoying this.” He retorts not moving from his spot on your neck.
He then raises his head, picking you up taking you over to the bed, and laying you down gently. As he finishes placing you down, he stands back up to admire you. Seeing you shirtless, in only your skirt and bra on his bed, his breath hitches before he goes back down to you. Roughly making out, his hands find their way to your chest, massaging and groping at your breasts through your bra. You quickly get tired of it and push him off gently to take your bra off.
“Much better.” You say in relief from your bra.
“Agreed,” Zoro says unable to take his eyes off you.
He quickly goes back to attacking your chest with his hands and mouth, leaving dark marks all over. Your hands find their way to his hair as he continues. You can feel your arousal growing, as well as your impatience. You decide to do something about it and start moving a hand down to the large bulge in his pants. You gently palm it and feel a groan come out of Zoro on your neck. You continue, listening to the small groans and heavy breaths coming out of him.
He then sits up, pulling your skirt off, now only seeing you in your panties. He’s in total shock looking at you.
“W-what, are you okay? Is something wrong?” You ask nervously.
“No, no, not at all. You’re just so much more beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined.” He says not taking his eyes off you. You smile at him.
“Want to take a closer look?” You ask slyly.
“Definitely,” He says while kissing you down your body, slowly moving farther down.
He gets to your underwear and looks up at you, “This okay? Tell me to stop if you ever want to”
“Yes definitely okay, in fact, please.” You smile at him.
He slowly slides your underwear off, throwing it somewhere to be found tomorrow. He then roughly grasps your legs, spreading them and holding them open. He then goes down and starts teasingly licking you lightly. Hard enough to feel him, but not enough to feel satisfied. He takes your wetness and spreads it all over, moving up to suck on your clit. Enjoying your sounds so much he almost gets lost in what he’s doing, almost. He moves back down, licking and then sticking his tongue in you, causing you to tightly grab the sheets of the bed. He looks up at you thoroughly enjoying seeing you like this, seeing how he makes you. He moves back up to your clit, licking it, while bringing his index finger to tease your hole.
He circles both your clit with his tongue and your hole with his finger. Eliciting whimpers from you, he then quickly pumps his finger into you, causing a pleasure-filled yelp out of you. He smirks while watching you. He continues to finger you and watch your reactions. He notes how you react to each curl of his finger, how deep he goes, how fast, how hard.
Adding another finger, he makes his way back up to your face, watching it contort in pleasure before lowering down to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his lips. He goes back to attacking your neck while pumping his fingers and curling them into you.
“Zo- Zoro” You whisper out of breath.
“Yes, princess?”
“Please- can we,” You begin to ask.
“Of course.” He smiles down at you.
He lifts his body up, standing once again, pulling his fingers out of you. Making you feel empty. You watch as he lowers his pants and eventually his boxers, seeing his cock spring out, fully hard and ready. Your breath hitches.
“What?” He asks amusingly.
“Nothing, just didn’t expect you to be so big.” He laughs at your response. “Might not fit.”
“Don’t worry love, we’ll make it fit.” He says smirking at you.
That goddamn smirk, the look that could make you wet just from seeing it. It's annoying when men are cocky, but not him. When he’s cocky it just turns you on, and it's the most frustrating thing ever.
He grabs your thighs and pulls you closer to him, lining himself up.
“You 100% sure about this?” He asks one more time.
“If you make me wait one more fucking min-”
“Chill princess, I’ve got you.” He says amusingly.
He rubs his tip along your clit, then down to your hole, waiting a second before slowly pushing in. Once he’s halfway in, he can see a look of discomfort on your face.
“You okay love?” He asks concerned.
“Yeah, just got to get used to you, are you all the way in?” You ask. He lets out a small chuckle.
“Only half darling.” He says.
“Okay, give me a sec, and then Just go all the way and I’ll be good.” He nods in response.
As you told him, he waits for your queue to continue, once you give it to him he pushes all the way in quickly. This causes a moan to escape you. He asks if you're ready and you nod quickly. He then starts a slow pace to let you adjust more.
“God so tight” He whispers to himself, clearly enjoying you.
Once there is no more discomfort on your face, he starts a brutal pace. Lifting your legs onto his shoulders and pressing you in half. Every move makes you scream out, and realizing this you cover your mouth to muffle your noises. Zoro quickly notices and grabs both your hands pinning them above your head.
“No beautiful, I want to hear you.” He whispers in your ear.
You start to scream his name as he continues pounding into you. Then flipping you over as if you weighed nothing, continuing his pace from behind. This new position allowed him to reach deeper if that was even possible. You’re a mess, sweaty and tangled hair, makeup runs, and screaming into a pillow.
You can feel Zoro grabbing your ass as he pounds into it, then slapping it and massaging it. He then lifts you up while continuing to pound you, so your back is against his chest, his hand on your throat.
“I love you so much, you look so beautiful.” He whispers sweet nothings in your ear. But you can’t focus on that, all you can focus on is how amazing he feels and how close you are.
“Zo- Zo, I’m close” You manage to say.
He flips you back over and continues, kissing and biting anything he can get his mouth on. He starts getting sloppy, and you start getting closer and closer.
“Fuck y/n, I’m so close”
“M-me too”
He continues pounding into you as you grasp the sheets with all your strength. You then feel the wave of pleasure fall over you, his continuous thrusts after this causing another one in a series. You start to feel light and see stars. With a final few sloppy thrusts, he releases deep into you.
Collapsing on top of you, you both recovering from amazing orgasms, you gently pet his hair. After a few minutes of rest, he gets up, goes to the bathroom, and returns with a wet washcloth, cleaning you up gently. Once finished he kisses you and goes to clean himself up.
Returning to you, you both cuddle in your shared bed.
“I love you Zo”
“I love you y/n”
You play with his hair, while he gently falls asleep. You quickly join him.
Hiii!! Sorry for not posting for a while, I've been getting ready to go back to college! Here is the next part, its a bit short (because there is a pt.2 of some smut). This series will be ending soon! But if you all request I would love to do another :) Enjoy!
Masterlist
Zoro x Reader
Part 7: A Misunderstanding
The next day was awkward, you tried multiple times to talk to Zoro but each time he shrugged you off and walked away, not letting you get a single word in. The others started to notice since you two were usually inseparable.
“Everything okay Miss y/n?” You hear a smooth voice say. You turn to look at Sanji concerned for you.
“Yeah,” You say looking back at Zoro working out, not averting your gaze you continue, “he just won’t let me get a word in.”
“Hah, yeah he can be like that. Did something happen between you two? You are usually always together.” He asks calmly.
“Well yes, but also no. Something happened and then he assumed the worst and when I tried to tell him otherwise he ignored me and wouldn’t let me finish. So now I’m stuck here, with him ignoring me.” You say exasperated.
“Hmmm, I see.” He says pondering. “I think I know what happened then.”
You look at Sanji with a shocked expression. “W- Wha- How do you know?” You ask.
“Please Miss y/n, it's painfully obvious. As much as I dislike that idiot, I don’t wish unhappiness to him. And especially not to you.”
You look at Sanji with relief.
“I’ll tell you what you need to do, you need to slap the fuck out of him, and yell at him that he’s an idiot,” Sanji says while taking a puff of his cigarette. “And then, MAYBE, just maybe, kiss him.”
You laugh at Sanji’s advice and lightly push him.
“You know what, I think I will, thank you Sanji.” You say smiling at him. You give him a hug as a thank you.
“Gonna go start dinner now, have fun with your idiot in shining armor.” He says blankly while walking towards the kitchen. You laugh and decide to go get some chores done in the meantime.
What you didn’t notice was Zoro watching that conversation. He saw you laughing with Sanji, Sanji’s sly smile, and you gently pushing him while giggling. That was how you acted with him, not Sanji. Thoughts start to invade Zoro’s mind, about how Sanji is your crush. As Zoro is working out and thinking about this, he unknowingly starts going harder and harder until eventually, his weights break. This sound caused Robin to notice, she started walking over to him to ask what happened. But before she could even get a hello out, Zoro harshly spoke.
“Nothing happened, everything is fine!” He loudly and angrily said.
“That’s clearly not true, maybe your weights are fine but something else is bothering you.” she calmly sat down while watching Zoro pick up the broken pieces.
“I told you. Nothing is wrong.” He says quietly seething.
“Hmm. Where’s your shadow?” She asks very much knowing something had happened between you two.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He spat.
“Almost nothing gets you this on-edge swordsman. Did you two get into a fight perhaps?” She inquired.
“No, not a fight.” He sadly replied trying to hide his emotions on the subject.
That was common for Zoro, instead of truly showing how he feels he covers it with anger. Because anger is easier to deal with. It's easier to be angry.
“Hmm, well whatever it is swordsman, knowing y/n, she’s a forgiver and won’t let you brood forever. So don’t think you’ll get away from her so easily.” Robin gets up and starts walking to the kitchen.
“You think so?” Zoro asks, “Even if I fucked up?”
“Definitely,” Robin says looking back before returning to her walk.
The rest of the afternoon was spent with both y/n and Zoro simmering on their thoughts. But this time instead of anger, it was a bit of sadness and hope for Zoro. He hoped that you would forgive him for kissing you and ignoring you. He wanted to tell you that it's okay if you like someone else and that as much as it hurts, he’ll support you. The problem was actually saying those words out loud. You however were trying to think of a plan to get him alone to tell him he’s being stupid. With how he had been acting there was no way he would actually agree to talking to you. Should you write a note? Should you drag him out by his ear? What was the most effective way?
The thoughtful afternoon slowly changed into the evening as everyone gathered for dinner. You assumed your regular spot at the table, knowing it wouldn’t happen, but hoping Zoro would take his regular seat next to you.
To your surprise when he walked in, he continued walking to his regular spot and sat down next to you. You smiled to yourself, happy that this didn’t get taken away from you.
Dinner went on, and everyone talked and laughed, but you and Zoro were as silent as can be. A couple of times your crewmates would try to bring you into the conversation but you would answer shortly. Then, abruptly Nami looked at you and said,
“We still need to talk about your kidnapper y/n.”
“O-oh right.” You said nervously.
Your hands quickly went to your sides as you started fiddling with your skirt. As your heart rate picked up and you started to panic, Zoro grabbed your hand gently. You slowly look up at him, and he nods. He whispers to you,
“Do you want me to?” He asks gently.
You shake your head, “No, I need to do this.”
You lift your head back up to the rest of the table, you see everyone looking at you expectantly.
“I guess it's about time you guys know my story.” You say rubbing the back of your neck with your free hand.
“What do you mean? You told us how you got to the grand line.” Brook says concerned.
“Well before that…”
You go on to tell your crew the same story you told Zoro but in much greater detail. During the particularly hard parts, Zoro made sure to hold your hand tightly, to remind you he was here with you. When you finished everyone had a shocked expression on their face.
“I- I can’t believe you went through all that y/n! You are so strong.” Nami says with a hand over her mouth.
“It truly is impressive,” Robin says looking at you.
“Well, none of that matters! You are part of this crew now, and no one will be taking you from us. Especially not the celestial dragons. They can suck my d-”
“LUFFY!” Nami yells cutting the captain off. Everyone at the table starts to giggle.
“But really y/n, we won’t let anything happen to you,” Frankie says smiling at you.
The night ended with lots of support towards you, everyone letting you know they won’t let anything happen to you. You realize what it means to be a part of a crew, a part of the straw hats crew. You found your true family.
After everyone says their goodnights, you look around for Zoro to finally talk to him. He may have held your hand during dinner but you knew better than to expect everything to just be okay after that.
Not able to find him, you sigh in defeat and decide to return to your shared room, knowing he would probably stay up for night watch on the deck somewhere, he was probably just avoiding you again.
To your surprise, when you opened the door you saw Zoro sitting on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. At the noise of the door opening his head shoots up and you can see the look of dismay on his face. He gets up and starts walking towards you.
“Look y/n, I know I fucked up, I’m really sorry. I know you and Sanji-” He rapidly says.
You stop his rant by pulling the collar of his shirt down and kissing him. At first, he was surprised, but quickly melted into your kiss. A few seconds later, pulling away. “But, Sanji,” He says dumbly.
“What about him Zo?” You laugh, “When I told you I had a crush on someone else I was talking about YOU, dumbass.”
A grin on Zoro’s face grows at this comment. His posture returns as he regains his confidence, he now returns to towering over you. “Well, in that case-” He leans down while lifting your chin with his fingers. He brings you into a slow kiss.
Breaking away for a breath, he looks into your eyes and says, “I love you y/n”
“I love you Zo”
This quickly causes him to bring you back into another kiss. One kiss turns into another and eventually…
Shigaraki: “Compress, you have the change of clothes, right?”
Mr. Compress: “Ah… I’m afraid we used that marble last week.”
Spinner: “What are we supposed to do?”
Toga: “Someone’s going to have to go get us clothes.”
Twice: “I’ll do it! I know all your measurements!”
Twice leaves and comes back an hour later.
Dabi: “Took you long enough.”
Twice: “Sorry, it was hard to find any clothing stores near us, I had to settle for a gas station souvenir shop… you uh… might not like what they had.”
Shigaraki: “What do you mean?”
Cut to all of the league standing around in All Might merchandise.
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