BOYFRIEND!LAW (トラファルガー・ロ ) ─── him letting you color his tattoos <3
“pleaseeeee, it’ll be a cute pop of color!”
law just rolls his eyes and sinks deeper into the cushions, practically melding into one with the couch.
this was your latest request to him - it was always something with the two of you. being together for nearly three years now had created a new level of comfortablity between the two of you, a part of that comfort became lodging ridiculous requests at law until he finally gave in and said yes to you.
just last month, you had insisted on dyeing a streak of his hair blue and matching a part of your hair in the same shade of blue to match with him. last week, it was getting matching earrings together where the jewel still currently glittered near his ear lobe.
and now, you were curled into him while clutching his arm. tattoos littered his arms, a collection of small art pieces scattered around his brown skin. you always thought they were so hot pretty on him and you made sure to always let him know. just in this moment, you wanted to make them extra pretty, in your words.
law sinks deeper into the sofa before grumbling, “fine.”
squealing, you hurry off the couch and rush to get your markers before settling down next to him once more. without wasting any time, you begin coloring any blank space you can see within the ink designs.
just like that, the time passes in the quietude of your shared apartment. a medical show plays on tv with law muttering about the inaccuracies of the whole thing and you humming your responses back to him.
at some point you shift positions to move from his side to being sat on his lap to get better grasp of his other arm and he welcomes you in gladly, with his other hand warm on your hip, thumb dipping into the waist of your shorts and rubbing small circles.
“there! all done.” you beam at him before flourishing your hand to his brightly colored arms now.
there is a silence as he looks down at his arms, taking in the neat way you colored his tattoos, the loud colors an even starker contrast on his typical grim body.
“they’re nice, thank you baby.” he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. “you made them look pretty.”
now, with both arms free, he pulls you in closer to him, large hands cupping your ass and dragging you in till you’re face to face. he cups your face, squishing your cheeks tightly so that your lips naturally end up pouting and then kisses you promptly.
“so pretty,” he rasps in between kisses. “never as pretty as you though, nothing ever is.”
𝐒𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨: Asking Robin if she likes the pink petals appearing when using her devil fruit (Stupid I know)
Warning ⚠️: Gay panic
꧁🌸꧂
Sunlight burned the surface of Arabasta.
Chatter of home life filled the streets of Arabasta. The sun and sky sang in harmony above. Waves pulse just under the surface hitting the bottom of the cliffs in slow but powerful strides, the clear blue sky and ocean merged looking like one.
“𝖧𝗈𝗐 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍?”
Two figures came into frame, the biggest cliff on the island stood tall and proud facing the vast ocean with no fear. A single thick oak tree sat at the top, shadowing the lime grass cooling it. The figures sat on top of the cliff, tree shadowing over them like protection of the sun as well.
“ 𝖸𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗅𝗌 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗎𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗅 𝖿𝗋𝗎𝗂𝗍 𝖨 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 “ Y/n, the shorter of the two, asked their dark haired companion.
A old coffee stain poster paper flashed on the screen looking old but intimidating, face frozen in time on the poster.
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝
𝐘/𝐧 𝐋/𝐧
𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞, $𝟒𝟑,𝟎𝟎𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲
The smell of ocean salt mixed with Robin’s new crisp book about archaeological texts bubbled around them in a reality they made togther.
“What about it dear?”
Robin didn’t even look up from the book, face buried in the pages. Her white cowboy hat and floor-length coat neatly placed on the grass like art work beside her. Her voice reflected herself, powerful, mysterious, and calm.
Another old coffee stain poster with rough edges flew on the scene fast. Her face like stuck in time on the front page.
𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝
𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐨 𝐑𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧
𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞, $𝟕𝟗,𝟎𝟎𝟎,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲
“ 𝖣𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗆? 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗅𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗋 𝗉𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗌 “ Y/n asked looking at Robin then the grandline’s deep mysterious waters behind. The light bounced off Robin’s black hair shining like an oil spill. Her makeup ever so perfect on her fair skin. She was silent. Y/n knows well when Robin is thinking of her next words carefully.
“ I don’t hate it if that’s the question. “
Closed her book careful to not to rip it, Mr. Zero would hate if is she ripped his things.
“ It’s…interesting. When raw power show itself, beauty takes its place where it’s not supposed to be found. “
Her words poised the air with elegance and knowledge while there bubble still remained of peace.
“ I never liked it at first. ” Y/n looked at her trying to get a feel of her feelings. Like always, her vulnerability was covered to be untraceable.
“ Confused why when I would hurt, kill, and steal from others, there was a flower tail following behind. It looked foolish to use and see. “
Her gaze locked on a boat passing by below, looking like an ant compared to were they were
“ 𝖲𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝗇𝗎𝗂𝗌𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾? “
Robin looked at Y/n, eyes finally meeting. A emotion finally merged in her eyes, understanding.
“ It’s Balance “ silence fell between the two
“ Darkness can’t be dark if there’s no light. Just like how no light can’t be bright without the dark. So yes I do like them in a since “
Y/n smirked, Robin always had to have a way with words. They nudged Robin arm slightly making her sway slightly
First time for hours since both the pirates snuck out to this bubble, Robin smiled not in intelligence, but soft, curling her deep dimples that popped out more
“ Then perhaps they should try harder to understand “ Robin replied, a small smirk tugging at her lips. Playfulness seeping into the words.
“ 𝖡𝖺𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗁𝗎𝗁？𝖦𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗐𝖾 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄”
Y/n got up and holding out their hand. A soft breeze caused the leaves to ruffle softly and waves became more audible to hear.
“ 𝖦𝗎𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗂𝗍 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅𝗌 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗀 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎” Robin looked at Y/n hand hesitant at first, eyes darting to Y/n’s hand to their eyes. Another silence filled the bubble they lived in, not with peace, with love.
She got up. Her coat and hat back on yet hands still intertwined, lingering.
“Then let it feel wrong—at least we got something right.”
.
.
.
_________~~~______~~~_____~~~_____~~~~_______
(𝐀/𝐍: Thank you my little warriors for reading this. I took it in my hands because no one‘s writing about this beautiful woman! Like always I write random stuff. Hold on to your hats, More to come! I’m in the game again. Have a beautiful morning, afternoon, or night 💘.
You started smoking after you were separated from the other Straw Hats. It wasn't a habit you wanted to pick up, nor did it interest you in the past, but something about the smell or the way the smoke curled up from a cigarette screamed comfort.
It was home. More home than Shakky's bar could replicate.
"Don't get too carried away," she warned, offering you a stick from her own collection. "These go for more and more berry every year."
"No promises," you offered, immediately taking it. You put it in between your teeth and lit it. Your lungs weren't quite accustomed yet, so you coughed when you inhaled. "Too tired to care, at this point."
Shakky hummed. "Boy do I understand that feeling."
During your stay at her bar, she never quite asked you how you were feeling about everything. Part of you was grateful, the other had a feeling she could already tell just by your gained habits. The smoking, the nervous fidgeting at every small sound. It was quite telling. Before you were passed a newspaper and witnessed Luffy's picture at Marineford after the war, you had found yourself gazing out a window every day. Hoping. Waiting. Wanting to see anything familiar; green hair, blue tattoo, curly eyebrows, a small reindeer with medical supplies. Anything. Even after you saw the picture, the habit stayed. Your eyes peered out to the watery blues, wondering how your comrades were even after a year had already passed.
The reunion had been as warm as you imagined it would be.
You were never a fully emotional person, but upon seeing everyone together, on the Sunny, smiling and laughing and having the time of their lives, it was overwhelming. Your heart was full once again, the void gone. The tears came out too fast. Nami had playfully grabbed your cheek and said, "Come on, don't get all soft on us now!" Everyone had given you a smile. Luffy's was the brightest of them all, as it always was.
The urge to smoke faded a little with the events of Fishman Island. Getting the urge every now and then, but refusing to allow that habit to pop up in front of them. It was a secret you thought was well maintained.
Until you were fully relaxed one night.
The idea of the taste and smell of tobacco won. You quietly dug into your coat pocket for one of the three packs you carried before dragging your feet on to the Sunny's deck. The night had fallen cold, a sharp contrast to the flame of your lighter. You inhaled, the sensation of the cigarette flooded your senses. It fled through your body like a warm jacket had been placed on your shoulders. An old friend that hadn't been talked to in weeks.
You were so consumed by its warmth you didn't hear your name being called softly. You startled upon seeing Sanji's tall form in the dark.
In the two years you had made this new habit, you had never felt the urge to put a cigarette out faster.
The blond had a stick of his own in his mouth, but that wasn't a strange sight. He had that familiar warmth and devotion in his eyes whenever he saw you or Nami or Robin or any woman breathing, really. But after his eyes fell upon your cigarette his fawning paused.
"Since when did you smoke?"
You sighed, exhaling a puff while you did so. "Since two years ago."
"Not a good habit for a woman of your beauty, love." He approached your spot, his own cigarette smoke dancing in the air.
"Says the one that smokes like a chimney," You scoffed at him, the pet name drew warmth to your cheeks. You snapped your gaze back to the ocean below. You should've put it out.
"Hey, it helps me concentrate."
"What if it helps me concentrate?"
"What could you possibly be concentrating on?" His question held no bite. You knew you could get away with teasing him. He'd probably let you until the day he died.
"You never know, maybe I need to concentrate on maintaining the willpower to deal with Luffy's bullshit," you huffed out a laugh as you took another drag.
"Well, I couldn't blame you for that one, but man..." Him pausing made you look towards him, brow raised. He curled his palms together, eyes fluttering. "You make it look so attractive! Look at you! So sexy! So--"
You smacked him. "Shut it, will ya? It's too early for that." He let out a yelp. Sanji rubbed the back of his head as you turned your gaze back to what you were originally looking at. Your eye twitched.
"In all seriousness, you never answered my question," he said, his tone now deeper. Earnest. He was looking straight at you, burrowing his eyes into your head. You dodged his gaze.
The sea below was calm. The waves moved only slightly as the wind gave a simple breeze. Tides like this were how you managed to fall fast asleep in the past. You almost missed those days, when you could fall asleep easier without hearing screams in your ears. Without hearing Luffy's final orders to run.
"Seriously? How could I judge a lady when she's clearly in peril?"
"I'm serious, Sanji."
"So am I."
You sighed. You took the cigarette from your lips and placed it in between your fingers. Your eyes scanned its white form, watching as the flames ate at the back. "I needed something to ground me, to help my thoughts calm down when they were terrible." Memories flashed in your mind as you remembered waking up from nightmares. Of your mind conjuring fears that you'd never see anyone again. Of Kuma's power launching everyone. Of him chasing you. "I needed something familiar."
The first time you lit a cigarette, you swore you could smell Sanji's cooking. It was also the first time you broke down.
"It was the closest thing I could find, so..." your lip started to tremble. "I grabbed it." Tears fell again. They plopped against the railing of the Sunny. You sniffed, wiping your eyes. "Sorry."
"You don't need to apologize," you heard him say. You felt him wrap an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. "However, I can't say I'm a fan of this." Sanji took the cigarette from you and put it out.
You glanced up at him, mouth moving to protest. His expression stopped you from speaking.
Hiii how are youuu hope you’re doing well! I loveee how you wrote sanji the the obsessive!sanji fic. IT FITS HIM. I would love to see moreee please(๑>◡<๑)
obsessive! sanji headcannons
[x reader (obv)]
a/n: first time trying hcs, idk if this is how it works. anywhooo, i hope you like it!! this might be a bit lazy which im very sorry for but im still trying out this new genre while also actively losing my motivation in writing abt one piece for now 😭 also yes!! im doing well these days aside from being super stressed with projects haha, im glad you liked the fics :)
tw: toxic, mentions of stalking, sh (to some extent)
ps: i have seen all of yalls teach me a lesson requests, they are currently in progress <3
Sanji has always been in love with his girlfriend. Yes, he may have once felt an attraction to other women prior to you but since the day he met you, he became a faithful man.
He was a desperate man knelt at your altar, a needy devotee begging for a mere morsel of your attention.
It had started to become concerning to those who witnessed his affection. It was lovey-dovey at first and they'd noticed his clinginess earlier but they left it up to it being "the honeymoon phase" of your relationship, however, they were also quick to notice that this phase seemed to never end.
He would grow agitated whenever you weren't around, unable to follow the recipes he could usually create with his eyes blindfolded. He could hardly breathe, let alone have his hands function properly.
The only thing he never failed in making was your favorite meal.
It was a cultural dish. He hadn't ever heard of it before until you mentioned it in a passing conversation. Since then, Sanji had lost his mind trying to recreate it to perfection.
When he finally did, he saw the delight on your face. He felt like his sleepless nights had actually amounted to something.
Sanji, who after an argument, would bang his head into the wall of his room multiple times. He'd curse himself out, make self-deprecating comments, cry to himself, before finally composing himself enough to apologize first regardless of whether it was his fault or not.
His life had no purpose if you were angry at him. Everything he'd lived for would amount to nothing.
He never let you talk to people for more than thirty minutes. He said they were trying to steal you from him, trying to be more likeable than him.
Sanji, who most definitely has a secret shrine of pictures he took of you, with and without your knowledge. Pictures of you from every angle, every dress you'd ever worn, every jewellery you wore, every meal you'd ate, everything you owned. He had a place completely hidden away beneath the wooden planks of the ship where he stored his deepest desires in a journal, the cover of it being a photo of you with sketched hearts surrounding your face.
Sanji, who expected you to listen to his every whim, and would secretly 'punish' you if you didn't. He'd once told you to cut off Luffy entirely and stop talking to him but you'd refused, obviously, because he was not only your captain but a close friend as well.
The next day, your favorite watch was somehow broken in half. He pretended to not know anything, until he saw how upset you seemed. He couldn't bear to see his precious angel cry because of him.
So he got you a new one. He never told you that he'd broken the old one, but he played the part of the saint who had so graciously paid to replace the watch. You thanked him and he managed to convince you to stop talking to Luffy in exchange for it.
You never knew he'd been the one to break everything you loved solely for the purpose of making you listen to him, you only knew how kind he was to replace them all.
Sanji cannot live without you. He cannot even fathom a universe where the two of you are not side-by-side, bound to get married whether you wanted to or not.
Because if there did exist a universe where the two of you never existed within each other's presence, he would still hunt you down. He would still find you and love you, and he'd make sure you loved him too.
I DON'T CARE, I DON'T MIND 💉 TRAFALGAR LAW X F! READER
ＫINKTOBER DAY 8: BAREBACK
🐙requested by: Anonymous. Hello, yes! I forgot the gender lmaoo. Anywho... day 8 with trafalgar Law x fem!reader? (He's my recent obsession since I came to sabaody)
⚠️ tw: mdni. explicit content. pretty sweet and silly. bareback. modern au in where Law still has amber lead's disease.
🐙 wc: 1,6k // kinktober 24 masterlist // join the taglist
You wouldn’t mind, he is so hot…
you wouldn’t care, you’ve always wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him.
“That’s amber lead’s, don’t come any closer” people whispered when he passed through corridors and halls.
“Don’t even talk to him, the moment you touch that boy you’ll get it” they murmured when he sat down, alone, under a tree and ate his lunch.
But you, even though you never came any closer, were never afraid of him and those white spots on his tanned skin. In fact, you spent most of your time looking at him from afar; the way his silver eyes scanned the books, the way his hands one random day appeared covered by tattoos…
That last year of school went by flying, and that man didn’t even attend graduation, because his loneliness perhaps -or maybe how smart he was- allowed him to graduate faster than the rest.
And, despite you never saw him again, he never, ever abandoned your mind.
However, destiny has twisted ways to make it happen, when something is supposed to happen… And it only took ten years.
“Excuse me, Miss… My son isn’t feeling well, do you perhaps know what’s the waiting time?” A tall blonde man, with a kind appearance asks you, an ER nurse receptionist.
You smile at him; it is almost impossible not to. He is young, so naturally you peek to the side to see his son. However, there wasn’t a kid in sight, so you ask.
“Hi Sir, who’s your child?”
“Well, you might say he is still a child in a way…” the man says, pointing at a man of tanned skin and spotted white marks all over him, sitting with his phone.
You immediately remember him, that boy of your school days. But he couldn’t be the same, you are sure his father looked almost like him and not like the man in front of you… yet, the moment he lifts his phone, you notice the D.E.A.T.H tattoos on his hands.
Ten years have passed, maybe it is just a coincidence…
“Oh…” you blink, in awe… if that’s him, then, he has grown up to become an even hotter man that what you could have imagined.
You quickly ask the “father” about his “child” symptoms, but it is the “kid” himself who stands up and starts talking to you.
“Trafalgar Law, 26 years old, high fever, amber lead disease. I need antipyretics, that’s it. Insurance number 107460610” he says, not even looking at you, but constantly at his phone.
Law… He is the same lonely guy you used to admire back in school.
“Ok, Mr. Trafalgar. Please, follow me…”
Yet, Law was wrong. He didn’t just need to lower his fever, but, because of his rare disease he had to stay hospitalized for some time. And, to your surprise, one of those nights he remembered you very well.
“You are (Name)-ya, right? From high school. I remember you had a polar bear plushie keychain on your backpack” he mutters while you happen to visit his room to inform he needed to sign some paper so that he could go home by the morning.
You take your eyes from the documents; two opened big orbs fixing on his silver ones. Lips separating, warm breath coming in between your teeth. “He remembers me?”
“I am, yes. Law? The ho- the intelligent kid?”
“The horrendous? The lonely one? The sick, contagious kid? Yep”
You immediately shake your head.
“Not the horrendous, the hot one!” you tell him, sincerely. Maybe you shouldn’t have said it, but you won’t allow him to lie about himself that way.
Law remains silent. His cheeks suddenly tinted in slight pink dust. He tried looking away for some time, while you also played dumb re reading the form you hold in your hand.
“Would you like to grab some breakfast tomorrow when I’m finally off this place?” Law finally breaks the heavy silence only filled with the typical sounds of a hospital. “I mean, if you are not… afraid of this” he finishes, showing you the white spots all over his skin.
How could you be afraid, if those garnish his skin like the first snow of the year does to the sand on a beach? Like the clouds beautifully grow on a hot summer sky? Like the powdered sugar sweetens the most delicious pastries?
“It’d be my pleasure, Mr. Trafalgar…”
You couldn’t sleep. You really couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned the whole night, you simply remained in your bed looking at the ceiling as if it had all the answers in the universe… answers you didn’t even know the questions to.
October has already become chilly, and the autumn morning shines its orangey depictions all over your city. The scarf around your neck playfully flies with the breeze outside the hospital and it has you wondering why it is always so damn windy on every hospital door you’ve ever been to.
Such thought becomes interrupted by his sweet raspy voice, and it is actually the first time you come to think it took you almost ten years to hear it for the first time.
Law didn’t touch you, but he called your name to make you turn around. In fact, his hands remain hidden inside his jeans; spotted ones and very tight to his long, long legs.
“Law! Good morning! You are looking better under the sun. Let’s go, I know a good spot” you chime, smiling sweetly. Something inside you tells you to grab his hand in a very friendly way, but you stop yourself… is it because of his disease? Or is it because you are scared of making him uncomfortable?
“I follow you” he only curls a tiny piece of his lips upwards, and immediately after hides underneath a white fluffy cap.
The spot you mentioned wasn’t exactly what Law was expecting; instead of a pâtisserie, you chose a tiny on the go coffee shop in front of the beach. And he was pleased you did; the cold sea breeze kissed his cheeks that helped with the constant blush to have such a beautiful woman by his side.
Both prefer to fix your eyes towards the sea, as you sit on a bench facing the beach. A hot cocoa warms your palms, while a little inner voice screams to look at him.
“So… what did you do aft-“ you want to ask; but you are cut short.
“I had a crush on you, (Name)-ya” Law startles you with those words.
You quickly turn to look at him; out of words you blink slowly trying to process those words, maybe even unsure he had actually said them, or it was just your wishful mind.
“Everybody turned their faces when I passed, they never looked but only murmured. But you, instead, looked at me. You looked at me. I guess you were just curious, but I still had a crush on you” he reassures.
You smile, and your hand lands on his thigh.
“I was, indeed, curious. But I also wanted to talk to you, to sit right by your side and ask about those “Sora the Warrior of the Sea” comic books… I am still curious… and I am still looking at you…” you confess, coming closer at him, slowly, so carefully.
“Are you?”
“I am…”
Those words maybe were never said; perhaps, they were only thought. However, your lips encountered his so out of the blue, so sudden and unplanned. A kiss so long due, that could even make you laugh to think of how it happened… grown up adults acting like teenagers in love?
Definitely, both of you act like it, as Law grabs your hand, and both stand up when the kiss breaks.
“I know this will sound weird and so out of chivalry but… would you like to uh… visit that place?” he asks, pointing at a tiny love hotel from across the street.
Out of chivalry he says? Well, perhaps. But who cares?
You’ve always wanted to touch him, to kiss him, to fuck him.
It took you two a couple of minutes to finally get a room; a Thursday morning isn’t a very busy time for that type of activities after all.
Bam! The door of the room opened with his back hitting it as both kept kissing.
“(Name)-ya, aren’t you afraid of my disease? My skin, see? Covered in this” he asks, while your hands work to undress him -rip his clothes off-.
“What spots? I only see those sexy ass tattoos…” you smirk, kissing his neck and the heart inked on his chest.
Truth is, science still fought over the “contagiousness” of that illness and still, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care. And Law couldn’t resist himself, no more. You were ok with those spots, you didn’t mind, you didn’t care!
Skilful inked fingers, hands so deadly undress you as fast as desperate. Your skin, so different than his, so perfect, so kissable, also desperate, waited for his wet and warm kisses.
Slowly, or maybe violent, both fell on a bed. Bodies jumping, looking at each other side by side on the ceiling mirror… it was almost magical to see the reflection of your flesh one against the other, rubbing, white spots against “healthy” skin… make me sick, I don’t mind, I don’t care!
It definitely feels like making love for the first time, like teenagers touching other for the first time. You knew Law knows how to fuck a woman, but this time he couldn’t avoid acting clumsy and desperate.
Kisses all over your skin, your nails carved on his tattooed back. I don’t mind for foreplay, just fuck me raw… bare… do not even think of it.
He guides his sex, hard, warm into you. Hands a little trembling, kissing you nonstop. Your hips buck up, searching, allowing, letting him bury deep inside you.
“Ngh… are you sure? I could make you sick…”
“Fuck me, Law. I don’t mind, I don’t care… I actually had a crush on you, too… And I still do…”
A/N: P0rn with plot! ~5.9k words. Continuation of PT 1. Mutual pining, angst, fluff, and smut. Injured Zoro gives (afab) reader a hand this time... Or a tongue (oral sex, f. receiving). I inserted an asterisk (*) where the smut starts, so feel free to skip the plot! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧˚
Giving Zoro A Hand When He's Injured (Pt. II)
The day after you had “given Zoro a hand,” aka, a hand job, Chopper was feeling well enough to take over your nursing duties. If you were being honest with yourself, you were disappointed. You’d miss Zoro’s feigned crankiness, you’d miss seeing him blush, and you’d also miss being able to touch his chest and arms every time you’d change his ice packs (among other things…). Caring for him for those five days was eye-opening—Zoro seemed to actually have a soft side. Or at least, you thought you saw a glimpse of it.
Coupled with your disappointment at not having an excuse to be close to him, you were tickled when you remembered how vulnerable he was with you. Zoro had been so forthright and sweet with you during the whole endeavor, and to top it off, he had admitted how badly he needed you. The last time you saw him, he was practically begging you to fuck him. Remembering how he moaned your name made your heart skip a beat.
It’s safe to say that Zoro felt the same way. He cursed himself for how much he liked you, and because of that he was second guessing your interactions. As he sat in his room bored, and when he was given the green light to walk around deck a couple days later, his internal dialogue was running haywire. He couldn’t figure out what to do with his feelings, and whether or not you reciprocated them. It’s peculiar, how flustered and timid he was with these things. You’d think he’d be strong and confident in this area, given that he was THE Roronoa Zoro, but he was quite the opposite. Because he was preoccupied with strength, with training, and with being the best swordsman the world has never known, he neglected his softer side when it came to women and emotions in general. And he wasn’t the most experienced, obviously.
Even after you had cared for him so tenderly, even after you were so close with him, moaned his name, had your hands wrapped around his cock, and kissed him passionately—Zoro was oblivious to your (very obvious) feelings towards him. He knew three things. First, that he was painfully infatuated, borderline in love with you. Second, that he wanted you to touch him again. And third, that he had to do something about it.
The problem was that he didn’t have a clue what to do about it. And he was doubting himself. He hadn’t seen you for two whole days after Chopper took over for you, and on the third day Chopper gave him the green light to roam around deck and do some light lifting.
How would he go about initiating something with you? What would the moment be like when he first saw you after all that had transpired? Should he just grab you and pull you into a kiss? Tentatively broach the subject? Pretend it never happened? Zoro was at a loss.
The first time he saw you since you helped him “relieve” some stress, he froze. It was at the dinner table and he had gotten himself a plate of food and sat down, not paying attention to anything going on in the loud room or raucous antics. He was scarfing down his food when he felt something. To be more specific, he could feel someone staring at him.
He paused and did a comedically slow look up. You were across the table from him, looking at him, and he hadn’t noticed you. He almost choked on his food. When his eyes met yours, he immediately looked away, on instinct. It was like he couldn’t bear to look at you.
“Hey, Zoro.” You casually addressed him, acting like you usually would have. To your eyes, he did seem to be acting a slightly different—he seemed pissed, honestly—but you figured that some awkwardness would be normal at first, given that the last time you saw him he came all over your hand. “How’s the shoulder and thigh holding up?”
He cleared his throat and looked back at you. His eyes were always intense and it made you squirm. It was hard to hold eye contact with him. He just looked so pissed off all the time and his gaze was, without fail, cold and deadpan.
Zoro, on the other hand, could feel blush starting to creep up his neck, threatening to take over his whole face, but he tried to fight it off as best he could. Just act normal, he told himself internally. Just act normal. Nothing weird happened. She said it didn’t have to be weird at all. But you’re acting weird. He started to argue with himself. Well, stop it, damnit!
“It’s uhh—it’s fine.” He shrugged, nonchalant. You had no way of knowing what was going on in his head. As much as you liked him, as much as you had hoped that what happened a few nights ago would have changed everything, your heart faltered. It felt like it didn’t change anything between you at all. Even though you gave him such a passionate kiss at the end, even though you said that you’d ‘have to try his cum next time’ (or something like that), even though he’d moaned your name… did Zoro really not care about it at all? Was it merely a one-time fluke, explained by how desperate he had been after days of not masturbating? His eyes seemed to suggest that this must have been the case. You thought that you would have seen something there, some small residual of the fire that had burned so brightly in him nights before but… his eyes were cold and uncaring. Your heart sank.
The rest of the crew were laughing about something and eating, so you thought the interaction between you and Zoro would go unnoticed. You would finish your food and go back to your room to be emo about it for a little while before emerging again. But, as always, Sanji had something to say.
“Hey IDIOT!” his voice cut the silence between you and Zoro. “Don’t you think you should be more grateful for having such a gorgeous babe as your nurse!? I ought to rip my shoulder next so I get to hang out with you for five whole days, beautiful~~” Sanji came over and kissed your hand, and you let out a laugh, embarrassed.
“Oh, stop it, Sanji!” You giggled. No matter how many times Sanji praised you, you didn’t know how to respond.
“My love~ can I make anything else for you?” Sanji’s signature tone was over the top and lovey-dovey. “I’ll make anything you want!”
“No, no, Sanji, I’m good. But thank you!” You waved him off with a smile and he blew you a kiss. By the time your short interaction was done, you turned back to Zoro and his seat was empty. He was washing his plate in the kitchen sink. He set it on the drying rack and walked back to his room. His abrupt exit stung. He really didn’t give a fuck at all, you told yourself, trying to fight back the pit growing at the bottom of your stomach. Now you definitely were going to be emo in your room. It was impossible not to read into that more. You didn’t see him for the rest of the night.
You felt rejected, like that sweetness you had seen from Zoro was a lie, like maybe he didn’t actually have interest in you, like you were getting your hopes up for nothing. After all, the only reason anything happened between you two was because he was in pain and couldn’t do it himself. You tried to reason the hurt away—you were just being a good friend, you told him it didn’t have to be weird or anything, you were the one who leaned up to kiss him, not the other way around. From this angle, it looked like Zoro was repulsed by you, evidenced by his own actions. He must have been disgusted by the whole thing—why else would he practically jump out of his seat as soon as possible?
Maybe him moaning your name was only a heat-of-the-moment thing, maybe the fact that you touched yourself in front of him made him disgusted, maybe you crossed a line. You were feeling all mixed up inside, sad, frustrated, emotionally unregulated, sick to your stomach. You liked him so, so much, and the painful realization that he didn’t think anything of it made you feel like absolute shit.
Well, it turns out that Zoro thought a lot about it. He was just emotionally repressed, or at least he was when it came to you. He didn’t know what to do with himself after he saw you at dinner, he felt like he needed get away from you as soon as possible, or else he was going to say something off-putting and weird or make himself look like a love-sick fool (and he definitely was one). He almost turned bright red when he realized you were in front of him; he almost lost his cool, hell, he almost choked!
Sanji speaking to you with such ease and such affection was the cherry on top. The shit cook could talk to you however he pleased, and it didn’t matter to anyone, but underneath the surface Zoro was seething with jealousy. He walked away from dinner so fucking annoyed at himself for not having anything else to say to you, so fucking annoyed at himself for not being nicer to you. His heart was screaming that he wanted to be the one who called you baby, sweetie, darling, and gorgeous. He wanted to be the one kissing your hand. But the shit cook got to do whatever he wanted, because Zoro couldn’t muster the strength or courage to get rejected. So, he shot himself in the foot, making you feel horrible and making himself feel horrible—two birds with one stone.
---
The next day Zoro was feeling a lot better. He could tell his shoulder was close to being fully healed, but it would be a couple more days until he could get back to working out, on account of his thigh. He felt better mentally, too. Sleep helped him process things; his emotions felt more worked out after a solid night of sleep. He was less annoyed with himself and had stopped spewing vitriol at himself. He was feeling clear-headed—if he saw you again, he would say thank you and not run away like last time. He was hyping himself up to do it, and his internal monologue along the lines of: Just say thank you, and move along, like a normal person. You don’t have to say ANYTHING about the handjob. Just say thank you, it’s simple! She can interpret that any way that she wants, and it isn’t objectively creepy. It’ll be fiiiiinnnneeee.
While Zoro felt better when he woke up, you felt worse when you woke up. Your eyes were red from crying. Something about that interaction with him broke your heart and got to you, so you couldn’t help it. When you had to walk past him in the hallway in the morning, you just pretended like he wasn’t there, acting like you were doing something on your phone. You wanted to disappear walking past him, cringing out of your skin. You usually would smile at him or say “Hi, Zoro!” but you kept it to yourself this morning, heart still stinging from the slight yesterday. He obviously wanted nothing to do with you.
Zoro made a mental note of you ignoring him and he almost didn’t follow through with his plans. If you weren’t saying hi or good morning to him, then something was definitely off between you two. This was a little moment that he looked forward to every day. Today had been the only day that you hadn’t greeted him in the morning since you joined the crew. It was out of character, and it worried him. But he told himself that he was going to thank you no matter what. No matter how shy or awkward he felt about it, he thought you deserved a thank you because you had been his nurse for five whole days, and more than that, you had helped him get off when he was so pathetic and desperate for it.
You rounded the corner of the hallway after passing Zoro. You thought you were in the clear, putting your phone in your pocket. Phew. That didn’t feel great, but it would have felt worse to say good morning to him and get ignored.
“Hey—Y/N?” Your heart stopped. It was Zoro. He must have speed walked down the hallway to catch up to you. You spun around to face him and he almost ran into you. He overestimated how fast you were going and when you turned around he was about three inches away from you, uncomfortably close. You were almost touching. A second passed before you both turned red and jumped a couple feet apart.
“Zoro, you scared me!” You faked annoyance hoping that it would distract from the vivid shade your face was quickly turning.
“Sorry, Y/N,” he replied, rubbing his neck in embarrassment, his cheeks flushing pink. “I-I just wanted to say thank you. For taking care of me. I really appreciate it.”
Your heart skipped a beat. “Oh! Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t so bad.” You offered him a smile, to which his heart twisted and butterflies fluttered. A feeling of relief crept over him at seeing you beaming at him like you always did—like he looked forward to every morning.
He had planned on saying thanks and hadn’t thought about what he would do after that. Now that his plan was executed, he was stumped—what would he do now? His heart told him that any time he spent around you was a treasure; but he didn’t have any idea on what to say, or how to rope you into spending more time with him. He didn’t know how to completely and gracefully express his gratitude without outright saying “Thanks for giving me a hand job!” And he was trying to avoid that.
He blurted out his next words. “Well, uh… Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around deck.” You smiled again and he turned the other way and shuffled off. He was dying inside. Cringing so hard that he wanted to slap himself. You’re a grade A FOOL, he reprimanded himself. What the fuck was that? ‘See you around deck’? Are you fucking twelve? That was so awkward, holy shit. I always see her around deck. Where the hell did that come from? He cringed again. He needed to disappear ASAP. He felt so awkward, like he fumbled the whole interaction. He was being hard on himself for no reason, because you thought nothing of it. You were simply tickled that he showed you some kindness, that he wasn’t as disgusted or creeped out by you as you thought earlier.
You did see him around deck later that day, much to your mutual delight. You gave him a wave and he smiled back at you. Usually, he would do some kind of head nod thingy, bringing his chin up quickly and back down, as a sort of acknowledgement. But this time he had given you a genuine smile. His lips curled into the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, and your heart skipped a beat again. It was crazy how much you liked him.
---
At dinner that night Zoro sat across from you, deliberately. He always tried to sit near you. It was the only time of day he could be that close to you, normally, and he would take any time he could get, but he rarely interacted with you at dinner. He’d spend more time bickering with Sanji, Luffy, and Usopp more than anyone, and he’d laugh a lot too. Especially if he had some sake, which was frequently.
When he sat down, you gave him another one of your smiles. “Hi Zoro,” you chirped. “How’s your shoulder? Is your thigh doing okay?” His shoulder was still covered with bandages, peeking out from under the t-shirt he was wearing, and he was still slightly limping from the huge gash on his thigh.
“Both are doing a lot better. Chopper said I can lift weights that are a bit heavier now.” His tone was gruff, and he was focused on his food, not looking at you.
“Nice!”
“How was your day?” He asked, looking up from his plate into your eyes. His eyes were as steely as ever but… they looked different. You couldn’t quite place a finger on it.
Asking as simple a question like that was not how Zoro historically interacted with you. In fact, you’re not sure he had asked something like that before. You two were friendly, you were crewmates, after all. But you didn’t talk or hang out much, one on one. Or at least, you hadn’t since you nursed him for five days (and helped him get off).
“It was good,” you answered him. “I didn’t do much, honestly. Just sort of lazed around.”
“Me too.” Zoro held eye contact with you for slightly longer than usual—his eyes lingered. He steadied himself mentally before he asked you his next question, cringing in advance, figuring you’d shrug him off. But he was dying to know the answer. He needed to talk to you.
“I’m going to have some sake on the deck after this, do you want to join?” His eyes were still locked on yours and butterflies stirred in your stomach. You realized what emotion lied behind his eyes—he seemed to be pleading. This was out of left field for Zoro.
“Sure, that sounds nice.” You responded, face feeling warmer. You were flabbergasted, caught unaware.
“Well, I’m done with dinner, so when you finish just find me on deck.” He nodded at you, offered a small smile, and got up. He went to wash his plate, grabbed a couple bottles of sake, and went outside.
---
When you went looking for him, Zoro was sitting on the upper deck with a bottle already cracked open. He was looking off into the ocean, and you took a second to take in his beauty. He looked perfect to you. His jaw was sharp and the line of his neck was familiar to you after changing his ice packs and bandages. His arms were toned, his figure manly and handsome. The setting sun was casting beautiful and golden rays on the whole scene, and he looked all the better for it. This was the man that you liked, loved, even.
You came and sat next to him, and he offered you a bottle. Zoro drank sake straight out of the bottle, so you did too. “The sunset is gorgeous,” you observed.
In his mind he answered back, you are gorgeous. But in reality, he responded with a “Mmmhmm.”
The tension and silence in the air between you felt suffocating.
“So, why’d you invite me to have sake with you? What’s up?” You asked, puzzled.
“No reason, really.” He responded, turning to look at you. He took a deep breath before he spoke again, forcing himself to say what was actually on his mind. Forcing himself to say what you deserved to hear. “I just like spending time with you.”
You turned a bright shade of red. “Oh, uh.. Seriously? That’s nice of you.” You smiled at him. He noticed your bashfulness, perturbed, and barreled onwards with what he planned to say.
“Yeah. I think I’ll miss having you as my nurse. Not in a creepy way or anything,” he cautioned and waited a beat. His heart was crying out to him—tell her how you feel! “Your presence is peaceful and you’re kind. It was nice to spend time with you.”
The look in his eyes was vulnerable and open. You’d only seen it once before, right before he opened up to you, days earlier. You were taken aback, flustered, couldn’t believe your ears. Did Zoro say that it was nice to spend time with you?
“I could say the same about you,” you smiled back at him. You didn’t know where the conversation was going, but your heartbeat was through the roof. “I had a nice time. And I don’t think you’re creepy or anything. I think you’re really sweet. So, I guess I should be the one saying thank you.”
Now it was Zoro who turned crimson.
“Thanks for what?” He asked, puzzled.
“Thanks for letting me be close to you like that.” You answered softly and your eyes met his again. His gaze was tortured—he felt like he was dreaming. Your words hung in the air.
“Anytime.” He answered, almost breathless. Then, he took the jump. After saying his next words, there’d be no going back. But the moment was in front of him, and he had to seize it. “I may not show it, but I like you a lot. To be honest, I think about you a lot too.”
You were stunned. Had he just said that? Was the sweetness you saw in him coming to the forefront? It seemed like time stood still.
“Zoro, I think about you a lot too.” Your voice was gentle.
“How?” He asked. He had to know, he needed to hear it explicitly from you. If you liked him, he needed to know. He needed you to hit him over the head with it.
“How? Zoro, if you couldn’t tell already, you’ve been driving me crazy. You’re all I can think about.” You looked at him, mired in the agony of finally confessing your feelings for someone. “I am painfully infatuated with you. I can’t even look you in the eyes half the time. I was glad to be your nurse because I like you. I more than like you. I—” you stopped yourself. You’d save those words for another time.
Something came over Zoro in that moment. It’s like he was in an alternate reality, one in which you liked him, too. He reached his hand up to cup your cheek and pulled you into the most delicate kiss. His lips met yours with sparks. It’s like you melted into him. Neither of you had any regard for what was going on around you—Sanji could have started screaming bloody murder at you and you wouldn’t have moved.
It felt like the kiss lasted millennia. When you pulled away from each other, you could see the fire and passion in Zoro’s eyes. It was like you had unlocked a completely different side of him, a side that you knew was there all along. It was a part of him that was vulnerable, sweet, kind, passionate, sensitive, and loving. You knew he was like this under the surface, and that he loved all of his crewmates and would die for them. But this side… this romantic side felt different.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He murmured. “Fuck.”
“Me too.” You felt like you were going to pass out from your heart racing.
“Can we do that again?” He asked. His eyes seemed ravenous. He was starving for your touch, craving your attention, desperate for your love. He wanted to kiss every inch of your body, tangle his fingers in your hair, feel your heartbeat next to his, your body warmth. But he told himself to not get carried away.
You whispered back a “yes,” and Zoro put one hand on your waist and pulled you closer to him. His other hand cupped your cheek again, and his kisses were timid and light. His touch made you feel electric. You needed more than this, and you had a sneaking suspicion that he felt the same.
You grabbed a fistful of his shirt and pulled him closer, so your bodies were pressing. As your kisses became more intense, you bit his lip softly and let your tongue explore his. Zoro’s hand on your cheek crept downwards. His fingertips went underneath your shirt and came to rest on your waist—he wanted to feel how soft your skin was, at last becoming acquainted with it after so many months of yearning. In doing this, he had no ulterior motive. It was a privilege to touch you.
The deck was empty at the moment, to your advantage. Who knows what commotion would have run wild if the crew had seen you and Zoro with your hands all over each other and lips locked.
When you had made out for a few minutes, Zoro pulled away from you. He felt like he could be more upfront with you and confident now that you had mutually confessed your feelings.
“Y/N,” he let himself ask the question he had been pondering for days. “Did you really mean it when you said we could do it again?”
He was referring to the end of your last interaction—when you said there would be a ‘next time,’ as in, you’d be intimate with each other again.
“Of course,” you answered him. Your faces were only centimeters apart. His heart was aching for you.
“When?” His voice was hoarse and low.
Your bit your lip and responded, bolder. “Now?”
“Please.” His eyes were begging you, his brow furrowed slightly. You nodded and got up, thrilled. He followed you without a word. He had never foreseen that the night would come to this.
(*) When you reached your bedroom, Zoro locked the door behind and then practically threw you against the wall. His hands were everywhere, and his mouth was so desperate—he felt your waist, your hips, your ass, your neck, your cheeks, your hair. His kisses were needy, sloppy, went, and ravenous. One of your hands clasped his neck, the other began to roam his chest and abs. You could feel his raging erection pressing on you. You had both been fantasizing about this for months and now that the cards were on the table, you meant business.
Moments passed and your hands crept down his broad chest. You hesitated when you reached the hem of his shirt. As you placed your fingers underneath it, you touched his bare skin, palms passing over his happy trail, up to his abs and scars. You took in everything your senses gave you—how his skin felt, how he smelled, how his big hands felt on you, how forcefully he was kissing you.
“Zoro,” you spoke into his mouth and in between his kisses. “Zoro, I want you.”
He hummed into your lips and his hands similarly crept under the hem of your shirt. His hands fingers across your stomach, making you shiver; he felt your stomach and your waist, rubbed circles on your skin with his thumbs, memorizing every inch.
"Are you sure?" He asked. He needed to know if you really meant it. If you really wanted it.
"Yes."
Hearing your answer, Zoro reached his fingers for your bra and unclasped it. He went back to the hem of your shirt and started pulling it up, peeling your shirt over your shoulders and helping you slide your bra off so your breasts were bare. When he started kissing you again, his hands hungrily started exploring—his fingers pinched your nipples and ran them between his index finger and thumbs, rubbing them until you let out a whine. He kneaded and squeezed. He couldn’t get enough.
Zoro unlocked his lips from yours and bent down to latch his lips over one of your nipples while his other hand played with your other nipple. His tongue swirled, making your bud harder than it already was. He sucked on it, until it started to feel good, and you were letting out soft sounds, trying to keep the noise down. You were wet already, cunt throbbing for him.
“Zoro, please,” your voice strained. “Need you.”
His kisses worked up your chest, up your neck, and to your lips. You could feel his hard bulge rut into you. You shimmied out of your pants before Zoro picked you up, lifting you by your waist. He carried you to your bed and put you down so you were lying flat.
Sliding off his pants one quick movement, Zoro was stripped to only his black boxer briefs now. Zoro’s cock was (as you were already aware) huge. When he got on top of you, you could feel it rubbing on your stomach through the fabric and on top of your underwear.
Zoro was putting all his weight on his knees, letting his other hands explore and trail around your body. This time, his kisses trailed from your lips, down your neck, to your stomach, and then came to rest on top of the fabric of your panties. He pushed your thighs apart and held them there. Bringing his face to your panties, Zoro left one long lick from bottom to top, up your folds, to your clit. He licked at your clit a few times and you whined—the rough fabric combined with his tongue made friction that felt so good. You could feel your wetness seep and saturate your panties with each lick and kiss placed through the fabric.
He tugged the fabric aside and ran his tongue between your folds, stopping right before he got to your clit. As soon as his tongue made contact, you let out a moan, albeit a soft one. The noise was music to Zoro’s ears, and it fueled him. He neglected your clit for a few more seconds, only focusing on lapping the wetness from your folds, teasing your slit, and breathing in your scent.
Zoro wanted you to feel as good as he had felt a few days before, when your hand was wrapped around his cock. This was his way of ‘repaying the favor.’ When he finally ran his tongue in circles around your clit, you moaned his name for the first time.
Hearing his name come out of your mouth was like honey to his ears. His heart was pounding and twisting, core burning, and the only thing he could think about was you. He needed you to feel good. He wanted your toes to curl in pleasure, wanted you to cum at least once, wanted you to repeat his name again and again like it was a symphony.
His tongue lingered on your sensitive spot for a few seconds before returning to lick the glistening slick that was accumulating down your cunt. The head he gave was so good it was indescribable.
Zoro pushed one of his thick fingers into you and pulled it out slowly, eliciting another moan. After doing that a few times, he added another finger, loosening you up and drawing more slick from your core. As his fingers started to curl and scissor inside of you, he reached his head forward and started leaving long kisses and warm licks on your clit.
The sensation was overwhelming—his big hands were prying your thighs apart still, his grip was so hard it would leave a bruise, his fingers were fucking you steadily, tongue still licking long stripes up your clit, hot breath sending ripples of euphoria through you. You could only handle so much before you started to squirm. Your fingers reached down into his hair, holding it tight, pulling his face closer to you. Zoro had to hold back a grin. Little did you know, that was his mission accomplished for the night, other than making you cum, that is.
“Zoro,” you moaned his name a second time, cueing him run his tongue in gentle circles around your clit again and slow the pace of his fingers. “I can’t take it anymore. I—I’m gonna cum”.
He pulled his fingers out of you. “Don’t cum yet, ok?” Sucking your juices off his fingers, he let go of your thighs, which fell limp and wide open.
You nodded and whined again. “Okay, I’ll try.”
When he got back to eating you out, he switched it up—this time, his tongue fucked you and his thumb ran circles over your clit. The added pressure on your clit from the rough skin of his thumb drove you crazy, and when his tongue alternated from licking your folds to fucking your slit, you couldn’t handle it. Your legs clamped around him, squeezing his head, causing his cock to throb more than he physically thought it was capable of.
This time, regardless of whether or not he told you to wait, you were going to cum.
“Fuck, Zoro,” you panted, whining, “I need it. Please.” He could tell you were close. He pressed on your clit just a little bit harder, pushing you over the edge. Pleasure came crashing down on you like a wave (which, coincidentally, is what Zoro felt seeping out of you and onto his tongue). Your thighs squeezed his head harder and you moaned his name loudly, again and again, as you convulsed. Your toes curled, fingers almost tearing out his hair.
This was unlike any orgasm you’d felt before. It was more visceral—he truly knew what he was doing, which was wild, considering that he wasn’t the most experienced. But he must have had a gift for it, because that was by far the best head you’ve gotten.
He licked your clit through your orgasm, causing your hips to jerk. The pleasure was enveloping you, everything in your mind went blank except for the feeling of your orgasm and the sensation of his tongue.
When you had finished, he licked the rest of your juices off your folds, savoring it. Then he crawled back over you, looking down and pulling you into a kiss.
The thought of you tasting yourself through his kisses turned him on, too. His cock was painfully hard at this point, precum blotting very noticeable a stain through his briefs. He was endlessly pleased with himself after teasing such an orgasm out of you. When he had given you a handful of kisses, he collapsed on the bed next to you and reached over to sweetly kiss your cheek. His hand entwined with yours, and you were both out of breath, happy and sweaty together.
Zoro wasn’t overly fussed with his own orgasm and was planning on waiting until you fell asleep later to go to the bathroom and relieve himself. Tonight was about you. As long as you came, Zoro was happy. So, he smiled happily next to you, thanking his luck that the person he loved seemed to like (if not love) him back.
He figured that would be all for the night… but he was wrong.
＼ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ／ ⊂(￣(ｴ)￣)⊃ (⊙︿⊙ ✿)
Check out part one if you haven't already! Thank u so much for reading, I hope you liked it! Part 3? Perhaps...
Part of The Romance The Fleet Admiral's Staff Drabble Series.
Divider by @/saradika-graphics gif/image from Pinterest.
You were a conoisoir, you liked to think. Some people may call you a addict. But what's wrong with a girl appreciating a little romance? Sure, it may involve staying up until three a.m reading romance novels, but what's wrong with that?
According to your coworker Rusty, a lot. But you didn’t care what Rusty thought, after all, he was nuts. He liked to stalk the halls of Marine headquarters, looking for revolutionary army spies. He swore up and down they were taunting him, leaving signs that only he could see. Usually that just meant that you and Jo were the only ones reshelving and hunting up old maps, and other library duties.
You gulped at your coffee, eyeing the sprawled out Marine Admiral, suspiously. Admiral Aokiji had made it a habit in the past few months to research hide from the Fleet Admiral in the navy library. Rusty thought it was a sign of the coming purge. Jo, a charming elderly man with a large beard, thought, well you never were sure what Jo thought. Except when it came to romance novels.
You turned your attention back to the novel. It was juicy, marine captain seduces a terrifying pirate queen away from a life of crime and degeneracy. You had just gotten to the part where the pirate queen ripped open the marine's uniform and - when Jo interrupted you.
"Still reading that nonsense," he said, holding an absurdly large cup of tea.
"It's not nonsense," you retorted. After all, surely somewhere in the world at some point in time, a pirate queen held a righteous marine captain captive and ripped off his clothes while he monologued about justice. Surely?
He eyed the cover. You refused to look ashamed. It was literature, and you'd be damned if anyone shamed you for reading it.
"Think about Rose's for Revolutionaries," he said. "How likely do you think a beautiful charming baker would fall for a convicted man?"
"Very likely," you said, spine straightening. "Love works in mysterious ways."
Jo snorted and then glanced over his shoulder. Hooking his thumb over his shoulder he said. "I bet you no one could have anything romantic going on with him."
You looked behind him, your gaze first landing on Rusty, who was talking to a bookshelf. You would have had to admit defeat if you hadn't realized he was talking about Admiral Aokiji.
Your eyes narrowed. "You're on."
You would have to craft the worlds most romantic love story around the admiral, find someone to fall in love with him, and make him a love interest worth reading about. Not too hard a job for a librarian with a caffeine and romance novel addiction. Right?
The Marine Admiral stirred. Blinking hazy eyes. Then he promptly fell back asleep
