More Summer Vibes!

just a cocoyashi girl in a grand line world...

🔵🔵🔶

he's so cunty it's insane

HAPPY SPOOKY MONTH~🧟‍♂️

i've been rewatching east blue while i wait for egghead to finish getting animated and my brain is just hopelessly consumed with thinking about sanji's slutty little waist chain 😭😭😭😭😭😭

i love this man so much 😭😭😭😭😭😭

boyfriends

together, we'd follow you to the ends of the earth 💗

This is so good 😫😫

how do luffy and zoro handle you dying in their arms

aight time for angst with the one piece boys

luffy:

oh poor baby )): its reminds him a lot about what happened with ace. he’s losing someone else that is important to him. he couldn't save you. he failed. he wasn't strong enough. 

luffy watched in slow motion as you fall to the ground, his eyes wide in shock. he couldn't even move, couldn't even speak. you weren't getting up. you were just laying there, motionless. your opponent, a pirate captain, was laughing. he towers over your body, a twisted smile on his face, his eyes full of glee. 

in less than a second luff punched him so hard he went flying. who knows if he’s dead or not, luffy didn't care. he rushes over to you, dropping to his knees and scooping you in his arms. blood. so much blood. his body trembles, fear rising inside him. his heart beats so loud in his ears.

‘oi, (y/n), wake up! wake up!’ he begs, his voice cracking. you don't respond to him. you weren't even breathing. ‘(y/n), come on!’

this can't be happening. you shouldn't be on the ground like this, bleeding out. you should be smiling and laughing and offering him meat like always. tears blur his eyes, sliding down his cheeks. his throat constricts painfully. something was clawing up his throat.

‘chopper! chopper where are you!’ he yells out for the little reindeer, hoping that he could save you. but your body was growing cold in his arms.

why was this happening? he was supposed to be strong, he was supposed to protect everyone. so why? why did this have to happen. luffy was cracking and soon he shatters.

the thing crawling up his throat was finally set loose. a heart wrenching scream pierces the air, capturing the attention of their crew. it shook them to the core. their captain needed them. they finish up their battles and follow the sound of sobs ringing out in the air. what they find crushes them.

luffy was clutching you to his chest while he bangs his head repeatedly against the side of the building. blood runs down the side of his face and smears against the wall, but luffy doesn't care. he doesn't even register the physical pain, only the emotional wound and his shattered heart. he’s still screaming and sobbing. 

zoro steps up, going over to his captain. he pulls luffy back so he stops hitting himself. luffy looks up at his first mate with teary eyes. his eyes land on chopper and he grows desperate.

‘chopper treat her, please!’ he holds out your body to him, begging him.

chopper was doing his best to hold back his tears. he shakes his head. ‘l-luffy...(y/n) is...(y/n) is...,” chopper couldn't even finish his sentence. he buries his face in robin’s leg, sobbing his heart out.

‘luffy, she’s’

‘don’t say it!’ luffy screams at zoro, cutting him off from finishing the sentence. 

the crew can see the agony written all over their captain’s face it hurts them. sanji steps up this time. ‘luffy, we should take (y/n)-’

‘no!’ he holds you protectively against him, backing away from his nakama. ‘no one is taking her!’

it takes the combined efforts of zoro, sanji, and Franky to restrain luffy. he’s thrashing around, desperately trying to get you from robin who looks down at you sadly in her arms. 

‘give her back! give her back!’ he wails. ‘I want her back!’

luffy soon tires himself from all the screaming and crying. zoro takes him back to the ship, everyone’s head bowed. when luffy wakes up again, he’s demanding to see you.

‘(y/n), where’s (y/n)!’

he breaks down again, holding his head and pulling at his hair. why, why did he have to go through this again? he’s going to be unstable for a while, and then he’ll be eerily quiet, and won't even eat. his crew will have to help him get back on his feet, but it won't be easy.

zoro: 

“zoro!”

he whips his head around when you screamed, his eyes widening in horror as he sees the sword goes through your body. he quickly cuts down all the opponents surrounding you two and races over to you. blood was gushing from your wound and he tries to staunch the bloodflow as he’s seen chopper do, but the blood keeps pouring.

‘z-zoro...,’

‘save your breath.’ his response his curt. but he knew. zoro knew that you won't make it. he bites his lip, looking away from you. a palm rests against his cheek, gently turning his head to look at you. you're smiling. you're dying and yet you're smiling. he doesn't understand it.

‘I want to see your face,’ you whisper.

he stays with you, holding your hand against his cheek. it’s all you needed from him, just his presence. it made it easier to let go, knowing that zoro was here. and you left him with a broken heart. zoro doesn't love easy. when he loves someone, he loves them like they're his one and only. and now youre gone. 

he takes in a shuddering breath, picking you up, cradling you close to his chest.  he walks back to the ship where everyone agreed to meet up at. usopp was the first to notice him.

‘oi zoro what took you so long? did you get lost again? is that (y/n)-’ he freezes. ‘s-she’s bleeding.’

‘she’s dead.’ zoro says it straight, walking past his crew and going onto the ship. 

he becomes much colder after your death. though it seems like he’s doing fine, he’s still napping, fighting fine, and drinking, it’s not the same. it never will be the same. he doesn't have you to nap with. he doesn't have you to train with. he doesn't have you to drink with.

he trains a lot more now. he berates himself for being weak, pushing himself more and more. more than once he fainted and chopper scolds him, but he always goes back to training. sanji had enough of his attitude and calls him out on it.

‘(y/n)-san wouldn't have wanted you to be this way!’

‘shut up!’ zoro heaves out. he couldn't bear to hear your name. he walks away. 

when he drinks, he looks up at the stars at night. he doesn't believe in god or doesn't think about what's after death. but he idly wonders that if you are up there, are you watching him?

‘if you can’t nap with me anymore, at least visit me in my dreams,’ he mutters to no one, taking another swig of sake.

i just need more time to be loved by you (zoro x reader)

req: Could you please do a Zoro x reader (fem or gn)  where the reader is trying to plan a surprise thing for him and has been hanging around Sanji more to help get stuff prepared and in the process accidentally is ignoring Zoro. Zoro starts to worry that he isn't romantic or affectionate enough like Sanji and will loose the reader to him. Maybe Zoro even starts purposefully avoiding the reader like the mindset of 'if we don't talk I can't be broken up with'. Idk hurt comfort please make me cry but end nice 🩷

a/n: ngl i rubbed my hands together like a raccoon or smth when i was brainstorming for this req bc i’m just a sucker for hurt/comfort that isn’t dramatic hehe anyway thanks for 100 followers! :D i’ve been having a great time writing for one piece these past few weeks, everyone has been so kind :3c

contents: some suggestive content (16+ only ty!), insecure! jealous!Zoro, suspicions of cheating (but no actual cheating ofc), miscommunication, hurt/comfort and reverse comfort, angst to fluff

wc. 3.9k

wanna be on my taglist?

i. 

for the first time in over a year, Zoro wakes up in an empty bed.

the absence of a familiar weight resting on his chest nearly startles him awake, his brain skipping over the initial first few minutes of grogginess most feel when they’ve just woken up. he runs his hands over your side of the mattress before crawling over it just enough to check if you’re on the floor. 

it dawns on him, in that moment, that this is the first time you’ve gotten up and left before him since you began seeing each other. usually Zoro would be the one waking up at the break of dawn to get some early morning training in, always carefully taking a few minutes to lift your sleeping form off his body and place you back on your assigned end of the bed without waking you. it never seems to matter if you went to bed cuddling or not, somehow, throughout the night, you always find your way on top of him.

setting aside the foreign feeling in his stomach, Zoro decides to go look for you–he tells himself he’s just curious about the reason for your absence but the part he won’t admit is that he just misses seeing you first thing in the morning. 

it doesn’t take him long to find you, catching a glimpse of your back when he’s walking past the open kitchen door. before he can decide to get your attention, however, Zoro realises you’re not alone.

in front of a counter upon which is laid half-used utensils and uncooked ingredients stands you and the crew’s one and only chef. you’re both deeply engaged in a conversation spoken in a volume low enough that the swordsman can barely make out any of the words. he does, however, notice that you’re wearing Sanji’s favourite apron–it’s a tad too long for someone of your height, or maybe the stupid chef just has freakishly long legs, who knows? –and it causes his heart to stir in a way he struggles to describe to even himself.

if Zoro had to choose a past feeling that comes the closest to comparing, it would have to be when he’d challenged Dracule Mihawk to a duel and lost.

“oh, no, my sweet,” Sanji finally says something loud enough for Zoro to hear from behind the two of you. “you’d want to pinch it more than just squish it,” he continues before repositioning himself behind you to demonstrate. it’s hard to see exactly what the two of you are doing but it’s clear to the swordsman that the pervert chef’s most likely cupping your hands in his to guide your movement with whatever dish you’re seemingly making together.

Zoro isn’t surprised that you don’t try to push Sanji away in any capacity, not due to any lack of trust between him and you but because you’ve always been a very physically affectionate person. it was one of his first impressions of you when you joined the crew at the behest of Luffy. it was common on the Merry–and still is on the Sunny–to see you hugging, holding the hands or even kissing the cheeks of your companions in the most platonic sense. it’s just the way you show your happiness.

although every bone in Zoro’s body is screaming at him to storm in and tear Sanji away from you, a sudden realisation washing over him roots his feet to the ground.

is this what you actually need from me? if i touch you more, would you need it less from the others?

the swordsman can’t help but recall how just last night you’d kept bugging him for pre-sleep cuddles but he pushed your needy hands away every time.

“it’s too hot and humid tonight for that,” he grumbled after you frowned at his rejection.

“you’ve been saying that for the past two weeks,” you whined, wiggling around your side of the bed in protest.

“well, too bad the weather’s just been too hot. it’s not my fault.” he shrugged. when your frown only deepened, he decided to give you a few forehead kisses as compensation. “now stop being a brat and go to sleep.” 

Zoro walks away from the kitchen, opting to leave you and the chef alone; and wonders if you would’ve been in bed this morning when he woke up had he caved in and given you the cuddles you so wanted just last night.

he only sees you again when the sun’s started to set and all of the Straw Hats begin to gather for dinner. instead of taking your usual seat beside him, you end up serving him a plate of onigiri with a wide grin on your face instead.

“here’s your serving, my love,” you say with a satisfied hum that only serves to confuse the man. surely these are just the usual onigiri Sanji occasionally makes for meals, right? “how does it taste?” you ask after he takes a bite.

it tastes richer today and the rice is fluffier.

“it tastes the same as always.” the swordsman shrugs, physically incapable of praising anything remotely made by the crew’s dedicated cook. “why?” he adds when he catches the way your smile falters at his reply.

“nothing, it’s nothing.” you lean over to kiss his temple. his heart has been so deprived of your affection for the entire day that the simple gesture is enough to make him forget about your faltering smile from just mere seconds ago.

ii.

the next morning, after the Thousand Sunny has docked at a new island, Zoro wakes up yet again to an empty bed. this time, though, he wastes no time getting up and jumping into the shower after remembering a specific conversation from a week ago.

“we should go out on a date when we reach the next island,” you’d said, your bare sweaty chest sticking to his as you rested on top of him after an eventful night together.

“whatever you want,” he’d hummed in agreement as he rubbed your sides and back in an attempt to soothe the parts of your skin he’d been a bit too rough with. “we can even go right after we dock.”

rushing out the door of your shared quarters, green locks still dripping with water, Zoro makes it out just in time to catch you alighting the Sunny with two of your fellow Straw Hats: Chopper and, much to his dismay, Sanji. the three of you walk towards the bustling town together with the reindeer in between you and the chef with one hoof holding your right hand as his other holds Sanji’s left. 

Zoro feels the same stirring sensation from yesterday in his chest, except this time its intensity has increased tenfold. a bitterness forms in the back of his throat when he realises, if he wasn’t really paying attention, how much the three of you look like a family: a mother, a father and their child.

for a split second he imagines the kind of future you could have with someone like Sanji–someone who could provide for you and your children in a more meaningful way than a swordsman can. after all, what’s the point of teaching your kid how to wield a sword if you can’t even feed them properly, right?

a part of Zoro considers catching up to your little group and grabbing the basket from your other hand to replace it with his own. it would be a foreign experience to him, not usually being one to initiate even something as simple as hand-holding—aside from the times when your lives were being threatened and he needed to make sure you escaped safely with him.

the swordsman feels his face heat up at the thought of holding your hand for no reason other than the action itself. he tries to recall the last time you wormed your hand into his, intertwining your fingers with his calloused digits. Zoro remembers how soft your skin felt, how cold your hand initially was before it was engulfed in his warmer palm, and his heart skips a beat. 

by the time he snaps himself out of his reverie, he realises you’re nowhere to be seen.

”what’s bothering you, swordsman?” a familiar voice speaks from behind him. without turning around, Zoro simply shrugs in response.

”i don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

he hears Robin chuckle before he feels her hands sprouting from his shoulders to gently turn him around. though he really doesn’t want to talk about his feelings to the archeologist, he decides it’s better to comply than to fight it.

her arms are crossed as she looks at him with a smile. Zoro can’t help but compare her expression to that of a person seeing a pitiful baby animal struggling with eating solid foods for the first time—they know the only thing they can really do is watch.

”i think you should talk to her. you won’t know what she’s thinking unless you ask.”

Zoro curses under his breath. had he really been that obvious with his pining? how pathetic he must look to the rest of his crewmates.

how pathetic.

still, he can’t deny that she’s right—Robin always is, most of the time. he knows he’s been making a lot of assumptions lately and it’s not fair to either of you; and yet when he thinks about sitting you down to hear your actual feelings, he fears that not only will he be unable to offer you what you need, you would realise it as well.

would it really be the end of the world? if we go back to just being friends? 

Zoro’s lived his entire life up to this point without any romance, having deluded himself into thinking that any relationship—platonic or romantic—wouldn’t serve his goal of being the best swordsman. if anything, it would only be a distraction. he’d made it far in life with this belief and then, of course, he had to meet Luffy and subsequently: you.

he realises then that he can’t remember what it’s like not being your partner; to not have the privilege of being the one who sleeps beside you every night, to touch and hold and kiss you in ways only appropriate behind closed doors. when he thinks about his future as the world’s greatest swordsman, he can only imagine it with you by his side. it wouldn’t be the same otherwise.

maybe… if we just never talk about this, i can be yours for a little while longer. with a bit more time, maybe i can convince you to keep loving me.

iii.

a few days later, on the morning of the day you’ve been anxiously preparing for for a week now, you wake up, once again, to an empty bed and your heart sinks lower than it did yesterday.

Zoro has been waking up earlier these past few days and you’re unable to find out why. anytime you try to look for him during his usual training hours, you struggle to even find him, let alone spend time with him. for some reason that even the others are unsure of, he’s been training in odd places around the Thousand Sunny, seemingly forgoing the crow’s nest altogether. on the off chance you do manage to run into him, he’ll give you some random excuse for why he “can’t talk right now”.

”Luffy needs me to run some errands.”

”i have an appointment with the local blacksmith.”

”i think i see Chopper drowning.”

clenching your fists in your lap, you stay sitting in bed for a while longer, your heart pounding faster and faster no matter how hard you try to calm it down. you feel your eyes begin to burn with tears as you come to the realisation that maybe Zoro isn’t interested in you anymore. 

under your breath, you curse at whatever god is listening for their horrific timing. you’d spent the past week with Sanji and Chopper meticulously planning for tonight’s surprise birthday picnic and now you’re not sure if you’ll be able to convince your boyfriend to even look at you.

mind racing, you try to recall if you’d done anything to remotely upset him lately but you draw a blank. if anything, you’ve been spending more time away from Zoro in order to maintain the secrecy of your plans but surely that’s not what he’s upset over, right? wouldn’t he have welcomed the me-time with open arms?

finally deciding that it’s really not the time to be overthinking about this, you wipe away your tears and get ready to freshen up for the day. you and the others have put in too much effort into tonight to just throw it all away so you decide that no matter what, you will see it through, even if it ends up being the last time you spend with him as his partner.

iv. 

Zoro’s on the verge of falling asleep whilst sitting upright in bed when the door to your shared quarters bursts open and startles him awake. before he can beat the crap out of whoever it is, Nami’s frantic shouting freezes him in place.

”(Y/N)’s been taken!” his throat tightens as he feels his heart drop and his skin go cold. “quick you need to hurry!” the navigator yells. instinctively he grabs his three swords and leaps out of bed towards the door, more of the Straw Hats coming into view as he exits the room.

”you fucking dumbass mosshead!” Sanji shouts, furious, “sweet (Y/N)’s been kidnapped and you’ve been asleep this whole time?!”

”i-i last saw her being taken away towards the southmost cliff,” Chopper sobs, words muffled by his hooves as he frantically rubs away his never ending tears.

”remember, Zoro,” Sanji grabs the swordsman’s shoulders firmly, “southmost. SOUTH. it’s literally the closest cliff to the dock.”

it does cross Zoro’s mind that the chef’s acting fucking weird but right now isn’t the time for that. without a word, he takes off, running as fast as his legs can carry him toward what he hopes is the right direction. once he’s out of earshot, the Straw Hats let out a collective sigh.

”do you think he’ll make it?” Nami asks no one in particular.

”seeing as he really thinks (Y/N)’s in danger, i’d say so,” Robin replies.

”well, at least we have Usopp keeping an eye on him,” Sanji adds, “if mosshead really gets lost, we can at least rely on Usopp to get him back on the right track.”

a moment of silence passes as they all watch Zoro gradually disappear from view—all except for the sound of Chopper’s sobbing.

”he’s not here anymore, you don’t need to keep crying, Chopper,” Nami says to the doctor. he sniffles as he pulls his hooves away from his face, revealing a mess of snot and tears. 

“i-i know,” he chokes, reaching out to hug Robin’s leg, “i was faking it at first but now i’m scared something will happen and they really do break up.” Chopper lets out another cry, smooshing his face into the archeologist’s pants as he wonders if this is what children feel like when their parents get divorced.

“don’t be silly,” Nami leans down to pat his head, “i’m pretty sure hell would freeze over first before they decide to break up. besides, once Zoro sees all the stuff (Y/N)’s prepared, i think that’ll be the last thing on his mind.” 

v.

the swordsman barely thinks about where he’s going as he makes his way to you, his legs carrying him through twists and turns as though they have a mind of their own. all he can really focus on right now is the sound of his scabbards clicking against one another and the way you’ve been looking at him these past few days.

how your smile would melt away when he gave you another half-assed excuse to leave. how he felt you lingering a distance behind him so many times before your presence disappeared without saying a word. how just last night it seemed like you wanted to ask him something before going to bed, your mouth opening and closing as you laid down beside him, head turned just enough for your eyes to meet his. he’d almost asked you what’s wrong but before he could, you simply shook your head and turned around to go to sleep with your back facing his way.

i’m sorry. i’m sorry i kept avoiding you. i’m sorry i hurt your feelings.

Zoro takes a sharp left turn before he’s halted in his tracks when an entire tree branch falls just a few steps in front of him. before he can manoeuvre his way around the unexpected obstacle, he realises he’s going the wrong way; so he turns around.

i just needed more time to think. i just wanted a bit more time to figure out how to fix myself for you.

through the darkness of the night, his eyes catch a glimpse of light as he nears the edge of the forest that leads to the southmost cliff of the island. heart pounding rapidly in his chest as he continues to run, Zoro readies himself for a fight, to shed as much blood as necessary to bring you home without so much as a scratch on your skin. 

please be okay. this can’t be how it ends for us. i need to tell you that i—

he comes to a sudden stop, the inertia from running at top speed causing him to nearly stumble forwards. still panting heavily as he holds his unsheathed swords by his sides, Zoro simply stands there wordlessly as his eyes take in the sight before him.

you’re by yourself, sitting cross-legged on a large picnic blanket with a large array of food and bottles of alcohol surrounding you. you’re wearing a dress he’s never seen before but it fits you perfectly and he wonders if you’d gotten it just for tonight. you simply smile at Zoro as you wait a good while for the truth to fully dawn on him; to be honest you didn’t expect him to show up so frazzled and upset.

”happy birthday?” you eventually say, unsure yourself why the phrase comes out sounding like a question. still donning a look of shock on his face, Zoro sinks to his knees, dropping his swords onto the grass. he furrows his eyebrows, clearly deep in thought and your own eyes widen when you realise— “did you forget today’s your birthday?”

”i…” he murmurs, “… yeah, i forgot.” he swallows thickly. “is this all for me?”

”of course it is,” you can’t help but laugh a little as you reply, still unable to wrap your head around the fact that he truly did not see this coming at all. “i spent the whole week getting ready for this.”

Zoro feels a pang in his chest.

”you’re not breaking up with me?” he asks, stunning you into silence. for a second you think he’s trying to make some kind of sick joke but you know him well enough to tell from the way he’s staring at you so intensely that he’s being completely honest. “i thought…” the swordsman steadies his voice as best as he can, unable to help the words he’s been keeping hidden from spilling out of his lips, “you’d fallen out of love with me. i thought you just didn’t want to be around me anymore.”

you feel your eyes burn with tears as you hear your own thoughts being spoken aloud in his voice. your bottom lip quivers as you feel an odd mix of relief and sadness wash over you. upon seeing you cry, Zoro scrambles towards you until he’s within arm’s reach.

”no, no,” he clumsily wipes away your tears with the pads of his thumbs as he cups your face in between his hands gently, “please don’t cry. don’t be sad.” you place your own hands over his, keeping them held to your face as you give him a wobbly smile.

”i’m not sad, you silly man,” you reply with fresh tears still running down your face. “i’m so relieved. this whole time i thought you were going to break up with me.”

”what made you think that?” Zoro can’t help but speak with a hint of indignance in his voice.

”you’ve been avoiding me the past few days,” you sniffle, the sound alone twisting his heart even further. “i thought you’d gotten sick of me or something but i didn’t wanna waste all the effort me and the others put into tonight so i thought we could at least have one last date together before you break up with me.” you feel his hands tense up as you speak before a frown spreads across his handsome face once you finish saying your piece.

”i could never,” he responds resolutely, as though offended by the mere idea of ever falling out of love with you. Zoro admits he’d been dodging you in order to avoid being broken up with. “i just thought,” he says, face turning red as he realises how dumb it all sounds now that he’s saying it out loud, “that if i didn’t give you the chance to leave me, i’d have more time to fix myself… to have more time being yours.”

”what’s there to fix?” you can’t help but ask, turning your head ever so slightly to press a kiss against the palm of his right hand. you smile when you notice Zoro’s already blushing face turning a deeper shade of red. “i already love every part of you. don’t you ever dare think again you need to change.”

you let out a squeak of surprise when Zoro lunges towards you without warning, tackling you into a tight hug. his hand reaches out to cushion the back of your head as you fall backwards onto your back with him laying on top of you. running his fingers through your hair, the swordsman gazes down at you warmly as he just now registers the smell of onigiri and sashimi.

”you made all this for me?” he asks in a soft voice, his breath brushing against your face. you nod, smile growing even wider when he leans down to kiss the tip of your nose. “is that why you were hanging around the shitty chef so much?” 

you hum affirmative in response, unable to help the racing of your heart as you bask in the sudden display of physical intimacy he rarely shows you outside of the bedroom. you wonder if he can feel your rapid heartbeat from how closely his chest is pressed against yours.

”the onigiri from earlier this week was my first attempt at making it,” you share before you feel Zoro start to pepper kisses all over your face.

”i lied when i said they tasted the same,” he admits, the occasional syllable muffling from when his lips make contact with your skin. “they tasted really good. i just thought the shitty cook made them so i lied.”

”oh really?” you chuckle as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “i hope you like the ones i made today then.” Zoro brushes the tip of his nose against yours.

”i’d love anything you make for me,” he mumbles before capturing your lips with his own, pulling away only when his lungs begin to scream for air. “thank you for the surprise, (Y/N). i love you.”

”love you, too.” 

—

taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like

Is so well written...........

How many dreams to say "I love you?" (ii)

Summary: Zoro can’t stop dreaming about you, his best friend and crewmate. When his dreams start to wander from themes of romance and tenderness, he finds himself splitting at the seams. How long can he keep up this balance of night and day before he starts to go crazy?

Part 2 of 3 (or 4). ~5k words. CW: Mostly smut / PWP! Afab reader w/gendered language (she/her pronouns). Poor, pervy Zoro. Non-consensual voyeurism, masturbation, toys, kissing. NSFW content - minors stay away!

Part 2: A double life is unsustainable.

As much as Zoro told himself that he learned his lesson—don’t eavesdrop on conversations that are clearly not meant for your ears—the dreams about you didn’t stop.

Days went by and he could find no reprieve from the phantom version of you at night. Torture wasn’t the word for it. Agony, more like. He was in agony. Every night.

While the swordsman affirmed to himself that the dreams were a non-issue, and that they’d inevitably stop soon, you were rapidly starting to infect every single facet of his life.

This duality was maddening—at night, he’d answer to a fantasy world with you, where you treated him like some precious thing, called him ‘baby’ or ‘honey,’ and kissed him. But during the day you were his crewmate, friend, and nothing else. He’d smile at you like usual, sit by you at dinner, and tell himself that nothing changed.

This was a half-truth. The only thing that had changed was Zoro. You were behaving typically, maybe a bit quieter than usual, but he told himself that he was overthinking it.

The issue was that you wouldn’t leave him alone at night, and each of your sickeningly heart-melting smiles during the day was making his heart do that twisting thing. He couldn’t stand it.

Zoro didn’t know why his brain wouldn’t abandon this fixation with you—it had almost been a week; how much longer would this keep up? How many more tender moments would he share with you at night before he went insane during the day? If he got to a breaking point, what would fix it?

The dreams were festering inside of him. Confounding this effect was that the quality of sleep he was getting was atrocious. It’s like he wasn’t able to rest properly at night because the dreams were so concerningly lucid—he felt like he almost wasn’t dreaming at all, just living in an alternate reality, a reality turned upside down, where you loved him and smothered him in affection. A reality where he liked that.

Zoro had no one to confide in about his troubles—you were the person who he was the most emotionally close to. If he could have told you, he would have. But he was worried that it would change something. What would blurting out his dreams and baring these hidden thoughts accomplish, other than make you uncomfortable?

If he did that, you may get the wrong idea. He wasn’t trying to come onto you, he wasn’t in love with you, didn’t have feelings for you, etc. Zoro didn’t think he was capable of romantic love, it just wasn’t in the picture for him and never would be. But that wasn’t the issue here, he told himself. In Zoro’s mind, the problem was that he was being tormented by you at night and couldn’t help it. He was at a loss for what to do.

You were one of the highlights of his days, even before the dreams started. Now he could feel himself, more than ever, looking forward to those moments and latching onto them during the day. He harbored the suspicion that his brain would memorize your face more each time. The dream version of you kept getting more lifelike, more brilliant, more real. It was uncanny.

After the first three nights, Zoro started to brace himself. He knew what was coming when he fell asleep. He knew you’d be there waiting for him in some new scenario.

DREAMS 5, 6, & 7: “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

The fifth dream Zoro had about you was one where you held his hand (literally, just you holding his hand, nothing else). Your hand was warm and soft—it felt like it was made for him, like you were made for him. You ran your thumb across his skin and squeezed his hand through your intertwined fingers.

It was a short dream. When he woke up, he could still feel your hand on his. If he kept his eyes closed, if he stayed still, he could feel your fingers, your weight, maybe even your breath against his neck…

When he woke up, he was befuddled. Seeing you on deck the following morning, he glanced down at your hands. Would they feel the same as they did in his dream?

The next night, in the sixth dream, you studied his face quizzically.

“What’s wrong babe? You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your eyes explored his face imploringly.

He said something in response. He couldn’t remember what it was, and it was of no consequence. After you studied his face more, you remarked, “Zoro, you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” He flushed even in his sleep and woke up moments later to a quicker heartbeat than was normal. This was seriously starting to concern him. As mundane as these sequences were, they were abnormal and confusing.

Were these dreams some subconscious manifestation of a nascent health problem? Or was he not training hard enough? Perhaps this was some form of self-performed punishment for being so distracted by your presence? Maybe he needed to double down on the stoicism and the ascetism.

The seventh dream was also mundane. You were wearing one of his hoodies and a pair of his sweatpants; you kissed him and told him he smelled good. He had seen you wear his hoodies before, in real life. You always had an excuse (“mine are all in the washing machine, can I wear some of yours?) and he always looked at you more than normal.

There was something about you in his clothes that stirred him inside. He didn’t know what was up with that. Something squeezed inside of him at the sight of your face peeking out of his hoodies, your limbs filling up his shirts and sweats; he couldn’t put his finger on it.

The morning after the hoodie and sweatpants dream, Zoro woke up perplexed. His dreams, in the wake of the conversation he overheard, stayed relatively romantic. They weren’t straying from themes of tenderness and endearment (well, except that first dream, the shower sex one).

The romance is what baffled him the most—he had never looked at anyone with romantic intentions before, so why was his brain throwing it at him? Why you, in particular? It was mystifying, suffocating, and excruciating.

There were floodgates inside of him, pooled up dams of emotion, burgeoning romance, desires and fears, and your conversation with Nami sent a shockwave through those walls. They began to crumble, and new cracks showed every night.

Zoro tried not to worry, but he had an understanding that this odd trend of (what was it at this point?) six nights consumed by you was only sustainable so far as the dreams stayed this way—tender and, above everything, mundane.

He was a regimented man. He stuck to a clear and concise schedule, as far as waking up, feeding himself, working out, etc. But the dreams threw a wrench in his daily routine. The negligent quality of sleep he was getting, even after only six days, was starting to have quite the effect on him.

He was barely keeping it together by the six-day mark, dark circles deepening into sunken rings under his eyes. He concluded that he couldn’t handle anything farther than these dreams of kisses and cuddles. If the dreams changed—if they got explicit, he told himself—then he’d start to really lose it.

Emotional turmoil be damned, he could retain a sense of normalcy as long as his waking hours went on as usual and nothing else changed. He may be exhausted, but he could cope. He hoped the dreams would fade into absurdity, cease, and leave him the hell alone.

This was a self-deluding hope.

DREAM 8: Breaking point

The next night, Zoro dreamed that he was walking around the ship aimlessly. He did a lap around the deck, meandered lazily through the galley, and checked the crow’s nest. It seemed like the whole thing was empty. Where was everyone?

He sauntered to check out the sleeping quarters. All the doors were open, the lights were off, and the cabins were empty, except yours. Your door was ajar and the light was on—he felt an overwhelming sense of curiosity. As Zoro walked towards your door, time seemed to alter. He moved in slow motion, laser-focused on your cabin, approaching slowly with bated breath.

As he got closer, he started to hear something.

It was a mix of sounds. There was a wet sort of clacking sound, first, and when he got closer to your door, he also heard faint gasps and gentle moans. His heart beat faster. He reached the door—it was only a couple inches open. He knew way lay ahead.

The sounds were getting louder. He leaned in, staring through the miniscule gap between the door and doorframe, to see what was happening. His hand was poised on the doorknob, ready to push it open.

When Zoro saw what was happening inside, he froze.

You were lying on your bed naked, thighs spread, propped up on your pillows. Your face was contorted into an expression of bliss, mouth agape just slightly, brows pinched together, eyes closed. His gaze travelled down to fix on your breasts, a perfect pair in his opinion. But your arms looked like they were moving, so his gaze trailed down farther. He saw clearly now that you were touching yourself.

You were moving one finger very slowly in and out of yourself; your sensitive spots were red and inflamed, juices seeping out and covering your thighs and hand. He listened to your labored breathing and heard the messy sounds echo through the room.

When you stuffed another finger in yourself, he heard you murmur something, but he couldn’t quite make out what you said. He leaned closer, his proximity to the door threatened to push it open.

You let the sound out again. He heard it this time.

“Zoro.”

Your moan was quiet and needy. He was mesmerized—you moaned his name again and moved your fingers faster. Your pitch increased, your body tensed up, you were so wet that arousal was pooling beneath you, saturating and staining the sheets.

He thought you were about to orgasm when you stopped suddenly, drawing your fingers out of yourself with a gasp.

Reaching to the side, you picked something up. Zoro’s brain registered it with a considerable lag—that was a vibrator. That was your vibrator. He saw it once on accident, when he offered to grab some of your laundry and put it in with his load.

That must have been months ago. When he walked into your room and looked for your hamper, the vibrator caught his eye, sitting on your bed as plain as day. You had forgotten that it was there. He found himself blushing and pretended like he hadn’t seen it. But now it made an appearance in his dream—how sick and twisted.

You pressed the toy into your entrance, pressing it inside yourself with it for a few moments before you pulled it out again. Every thrust of your wrist was coupled with a keen of his name.

The vibrator was dripping wet. A string of your arousal connected the tip of the vibrator to your core and his eyes followed as you brought the toy to your clit. Pressing a button, the vibrator sprung to life, filling the room with a low whirring and pulsing sound. You whined his name again and pushed the vibrator back and forth on your sensitive nub, toes curling in pleasure. Your other hand crept down and snuck a finger back into yourself.

Zoro was hypnotized by the sight of you getting off with both your vibrator and fingers, evidently touching yourself to the thought of him. Your moans got louder again, along with the obscene sounds emanating from down there. He could feel his erection. He was painfully hard.

You started to writhe and squirm.

“Zoro, fuck,” you mewled, tone pathetic and desperate. “Fuuuucccck me, Zoro, fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your thighs started to shake.

It seemed like you were about to cum. He wanted you to cum, wanted to see you cum from fucking yourself with your fingers and toy to the thought of him—but right when you started moaning the loudest, right when you were one good pulse away from screaming his name, Zoro woke up. Of course.

Upon opening his eyes, he was immeasurably frustrated. Any time that these dreams, sexual or not, seemed like they were coming to a climax, he’d always wake up. It was like his brain was telling him to go fuck himself. And he was about to.

He couldn’t take it anymore, it was like his mind was playing games, like it was edging him or trying to piss him off. He was rock hard, about to cry from frustration, wishing more than anything that he could just have you, but knowing that would and should never happen.

Zoro had been telling himself that the dreams were just an aberration, a mistake, that he could forget about them during the day because they only were a nuisance at night, and nothing really happened in them that would impact his day in any meaningful way. But the narrative of the dreams not impacting his day didn’t hold up when he started to fist his cock while thinking about you.

He was forced to face the facts—the dreams were getting worse to the point where they started to bleed into his waking hours.

The morning after Zoro dreamed about you masturbating, he had to step away. Seeing you walk around the deck, interacting with you and watching you walk away… it was too much.

He went to the bathroom, locked the door, and palmed his growing erection until he couldn’t hold back anymore. Unzipping his pants and sneaking a hand into his underwear, he started to touch himself.

Maybe it had just been too long since he orgasmed (or even touched a woman). Sure, that’s what all of this was. His brain was grasping for straws because he was too repressed, right? You were there in front of him every day, so his brain had to make do—this was just a matter of proximity, nothing more. This is what Zoro coddled himself with, soothing his worries for a few moments. It had just been too long.

While he squeezed and stroked his aching length, he could barely keep in the feral grunts and groans threatening to leave his mouth. He bit his lip. Every time his fist grazed his angry, leaking tip, his cock twitched. It felt so good, but it would feel even better, if only…

At first, he tried to not think about you while doing it. He felt guilty enough as it was, having explicit dreams about his closest friend. But when his hand was wrapped around his shaft and precum trickled down his fingers in clear rivulets, the image of you touching yourself seared in his brain, unrelenting and arousing.

“Zoro.”

His name had sounded otherworldly when it parted your lips, coated in tones of lust and desperation. Just like the dreamscape he entered every night, composed of only thoughts, his thoughts in this moment could stay internalized too, couldn’t they? Kept private? This could be a one-time thing, hell, maybe it would make the dreams and nagging thoughts go away altogether. It had been too long, after all. Against his better judgment, the swordsman indulged. Just this once.

Scattered scenes flashed through Zoro’s mind the instant he decided to let his thoughts wander. All of it thundered at once like a maelstrom.

First, the look of your eyes, glossy, rolling back in your head in ecstasy. Then, the image of him shoving his cock in your wet mouth and watching you choke on it. The feeling of scissoring his fingers inside of you, of pulling your hair, of listening to your whimpers while he wrenched orgasms from you, pushing his fingers into your mouth while you sucked on them and made eye contact with him, watching your body writhe and writhe and writhe… every morsel and droplet of your envisioned pleasure fueled the force that was Zoro’s fist on his cock.

It would be hot and sloppy. Filthy.

You’d tell him to “keep going,” you’d dig your fingernails into his biceps, drool from how good it felt, swallow up his inches like nothing—he revered you, craved you, and worshipped you. He needed all of you. Wanted to smell you, taste you, hear you, and have you. He was getting carried away.

What if you walked into the bathroom right now? The door was locked, obviously, but the mental image of you stumbling across him like this gave him some sort of nasty thrill. If only you approached him, sunk to your knees and opened your mouth, petted him and praised him—

When the swordsman came all over his hands, he felt vile. He felt like a hypocrite.

He always called Sanji a pervert and derided him for his lack of control around women, and now here Zoro was, getting off on a dream he had about his own friend and crewmate. And what’s worse is that he didn’t look away in the dream when he saw you touching yourself. He didn’t even try. (To be fair, it’s not like he had control over what he dreamed about, nor could he control what he did in them, but that was a nonfactor to him.)

Zoro felt like shit.

The next time you talked to him, he turned crimson. He seemed distracted. He had been working out more than usual, so you told yourself it was the post-workout glow. You’d never seen him blush a day in your life, but sure enough, it was creeping up his neck and slowly starting to take over his cheeks.

He tried to forget his trip to the bathroom, but your pretty face made his heart thump and his stomach turn. He tried to forget the mental images his brain conjured up in his rabid state of desire. It was futile. He felt like he was going to be sick.

In your brief conversation after dinner the same day, you asked Zoro if he’d grab a drink with you. “It’s been a while,” you smiled at him, same as ever. “Let’s catch up in the next couple days over some sake. Deal?”

He hesitantly agreed. He missed you—the real you, not the dream version of you. When he said yes, you beamed at him, and his mouth went dry. He needed to get a grip and figure out what the fuck his problem was.

Zoro gave up on talking to you about the conversation he eavesdropped on over a week ago. He felt like he missed his opportunity (which is arguable) and, more than that, he felt like he wouldn’t know how to approach that conversation. What would he say at this point? “Hey, I’ve been having vivid dreams about you and I’m going fucking crazy?”

No. So, he kept it inside. He figured that he’d cross that bridge when he got to it. Would he ever admit that he heard the conversation? He wondered about this. Maybe he’d never fess up to it. Maybe he’d keep it to himself, internalize once again. But he was quickly learning that when he tried to stuff these huge emotions back inside of him, they got bigger, louder, more unruly. It was like psychological warfare, except the assailant was his brain.

At this point, the dreams felt all-consuming. He’d get so wrapped up in them at night that he felt like he was in a daze during the day. Perhaps he was being dramatic, or perhaps his brain was desperately struggling to regulate a whopping load of emotions he had never encountered before, or rather, that he had never let himself acknowledge before.

He worried that you could tell something was off with him. You could.

Later, you asked, “Hey Zoro, you doing ok?”

He stuttered out a response, flustered by your presence, falling apart in seconds. It was very unlike him. “Wha—? H-hey, uh, yeah, I’m fine. What’s up?”

“Nothing, just checking on you. You’ve been a bit spacey recently.” Your expression was one of concern. He seemed off, not to mention those dark circles of his. Was he getting sick? Was the insomnia coming back?

Upon hearing your words, it was like a lightning bolt hit Zoro. “You’ve been a bit spacey recently.”

What an insane coincidence. You said those very words to him in a dream a few nights ago, after which you complimented his eyes. He froze for a second, then tried to play off his shock with a yawn.

“I feel fine.” He shrugged. It wasn’t convincing in the slightest. “Just haven’t been sleeping the best.”

The paranoia was coming—did you know that he was dreaming about you? Had he been acting weird? Could you tell that he was thinking about you every moment of the day? God forbid, were you starting to form the misconception that he liked you in some romantic or erotic way? Fuck. This was getting ridiculous. Get a grip, man, he told himself.

You tried to ignore how odd he was acting. If he said he was fine, then he was fine.

He tried to convince himself that he was fine. He tried to wait it out and see that his attempt at convincing himself was effective.

It was not.

DREAM 9: A shocking revelation

Zoro’s dream the following night was delightful and concerning.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, fiddling with something. Maybe he was sharpening a sword, refitting a sheath, polishing his boots… something like that. That part was foggy. Behind him, Zoro felt a weight on the bed. He knew it was you.

You scooted close to him from where you were sitting and reached your hands under the hem of his shirt. Your fingers ran over his bare skin, relishing the feeling of his abs and happy trail, every inch of his taut, tanned skin. You reached around his front and wrapped your arms around him. Your palms were warm, and you moved closer, body flush on his from behind. It was not lost on him that he could feel your breasts pressing on his back.

“Zoroooo,” you cooed right in his ear. Goosebumps. “You’re no fun. Pay attention to me. I’m bored.” You were whining.

You tickled him, poked him, kissed his back through the fabric of his shirt. You were all over him and it felt like your hands were everywhere. You were begging him to put down what he was doing and give you his undivided attention.

“Fine,” he responded in mock annoyance, rolling his eyes and putting his things away. He turned, maneuvering his body so he was facing you. “What do you want me to do?”

You pouted. “I don’t know. I’m bored. Let’s lay down and cuddle. Please?”

The scene shifted. You two were lying in bed, facing each other. You were eye to eye, arms thrown over each other. Zoro tucked your hair behind your ear, breathless. He was enamored, entranced by your beauty and admiration. Your hand was placed under his shirt, resting on his side. The skin contact felt electric. You leaned in and started to pepper his face with kisses—a recurring theme in these dreams. He must have really wanted that.

He closed his eyes.

You first brushed your lips lightly over his, and then you moved to kiss all over one of his cheeks, all over his forehead, his other cheek, his chin, his nose, his eyes, his jawline, ending at his lips again. You nuzzled his nose, ran your fingers through his hair—it was like you couldn’t get enough of him. Your lips were soft, meeting his delicately. When you pulled away from him. You held eye contact, an affectionate smile playing across your lips. He smelled you, felt you, and felt enveloped by you.

Zoro leaned in and kissed your forehead. You giggled and pulled him closer.

He could feel himself starting to say something in the dream, working up the nerve to say something that made his heart feel like it would stop. The words were getting caught in his mouth, they felt like they were taking forever to form…

They were words he almost said to you once before in a dream. He forced them out through his cotton mouth and hesitation.

“I love you.”

When the words left his lips, that twisting feeling happened inside of him so intensely that it must have detonated something. Each piece of shrapnel sent bolts of lightning through his body; he felt like he was vibrating, euphoric, every nerve on fire. He couldn’t breathe.

The dream version of you looked into his eyes and nodded. “I know you do, Zoro. I see you.”

Buzzing, Zoro felt like he wanted to rip his heart out of his chest and give it to you. He wanted you to see him, to see every part of him, to bare his soul to you and say ‘look, here is everything in me, here is every part of me.’

You were about to pull him into another kiss before he awoke up with a start, sweating and practically shaking.

Zoro’s heart was beating out of his chest. He sat up. Immediately, his first instinct was to check whether or not you were really in his bed. You weren’t—to both his relief and disappointment. He checked the time—3:36AM. Far too early. But he couldn’t fall back asleep now, not when his heart was pounding like this.

Why did he tell you he loved you?

It would be an understatement to say that Zoro’s mind was racing. He recalled that in one of his first dreams he wondered if you would still feel lonely if he embraced you. But if he did more than embrace you, if he gave all of himself to you, what then? What would you feel if he did that?

Would you stop feeling lonely and sad if he gave everything to you, even his heart? Would you give him yours, in return?

He ruminated on the concept of giving all of himself to you. What did that mean, and why did the thought pass through his mind when he was dreaming?

To give you all of him, for you to see every part of him… was that love? Is this what it meant to love? If giving you every part of himself meant spending every moment with you that he could, kissing and caressing you, making you feel better, listening to every word you stored up inside, sharing every word he stored up inside… The realization hit him like a train.

He wanted that. He ardently wanted to fill in the whole that loneliness had carved out of your life. And he realized that there was one in his life, as well. A lacuna of would-be companionship that he had forever thought was out of reach.

Could he give you what you needed? Is that what love is? To share yourself with someone else, to want them, to cherish them, care for them, see them for who they are?

He wanted to give you all of him. He didn’t want you to feel lonely, sad, or distressed ever again. He wanted to always be there, he wanted you to know you could tell him anything, wanted to know you like the back of his hand, and he wanted you to know him like that, too.

Zoro understood now what that twisting, thumping feeling inside of him was. No, it wasn’t arrythmia, or indigestion, or anything of the sort—it had been lying low for months, boiling under the surface. It all clicked into place.

That stirring and twisting feeling? It was the feeling of that lock inside of him breaking into a million pieces. The lock around his heart that prevented him from wanting to love and from knowing how to… it was gone now, obliterated.

That impenetrable lock, the lead chains, the crushing weight of it…  He used to think that the key to that lock didn’t exist. But now that you were here, Zoro realized that you were the missing key. You were the one capable of ripping open that relentless opacity, that stoicism, that brick of pain that he tried to ignore and train away. You had ripped it to shreds, like it was nothing. You did it over the course of many months, many days, and even in his sleep.

Zoro realized that he was in love with you.

He wanted to recognize you completely and absolutely, and for you to do the same to him.

Zoro wanted to take showers with you and take turns shampooing each other’s hair. He wanted to hold your hand in public, feeling and seeing nothing else but you. He wanted to come home after a long day and hold you tight, kiss you and call you sweet names. He wanted to nuzzle your nose every day and drink up every smile like he was starving for it.

To think that you were so sad and lonely you cried? That shattered him. Hearing you be so vocal about it, seeing a different side of you that he never knew before—maybe he never felt this emotion until he met you for a reason. Now that the pieces were falling into place, he saw that it was you. It was always you. It was only you. It would only be you forever.

He did not have another dream about you for three nights.

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taglist: @riftmage27 @eggrollforyou @imhwajaez @wiyenspanel @xxmysticxxx @moonmaiden1996

a/n: thanks so much for reading! part 3 is going to be a minute - lmk if you want to be on the taglist! i have yet to write (most of) it.