April Fools But Not Me, Everyday Can Be My Day

Happy Birthday Ace 🫶✨💛☀️

1.1.2025!!

Doctors orders 🚭🚭🚭

some strawhats posting

A Swordsman’s Love |Master-list|

GN!Reader, Fluff, angst if you squint, comfy comfort

First one-shot, too long for a Drabble! Basically a run down on Zoro’s love for you, yap sesh, and vulnerable moments with the lovable swordsman.

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Zoro’s love language is quality time, maybe with a little mix of acts of service here and there, but regardless you couldn’t change my mind.

Despite how ‘cold’ and ‘rough’ he may be, he’s just a little more emotionally constipated than others. Zoro tends to be forward and blunt with his love, even if at first it doesn’t come across that way.

He is nowhere near as romantically inclined as the cook, and compared to Sanji, Zoro’s actions speak louder than words.

He doesn’t care for all that gushy, sweet, blabbering—it’s not really his style, nor his strong suit. However, he can still have his moments with you. Being unironically sweet, flirty or even splitting to a grumbling blushing mess the next, it’s just the way he is.

The time he spends with you is a whole ‘nother story. It’s incredibly important to him and the basic building blocks of your relationship. It’s what you both really tend to feed off of, even if a certain stubborn swordsman won’t admit it.

An often occurrence between you, is him dragging you for a nap, tossing you over his shoulder without a care. Hauling you to his bed.

•~•~•~•

“Come, I’m tired.”

“So—I was relaxing?”

“What? And you can’t do that with me?” He prompts, carrying you through the hall towards the men’s quarters. His arm was securely wrapped around your thighs as his left hand casually wandered to your end, gently gripping the hem of your shirt.

Zoro always made sure to keep a stable hold, as you often leaned up on his shoulder like now.

“Well yeah I can, but it’s different when I’m in the sun,” you grumble, softly glaring towards him. Trying and ever so failing to ignore his hand placement.

“Different? I’m plenty warm, I don’t see what your issue is.” he replies, effectively shutting you up. Your protests were a lost cause as he already made up his mind, tossing you up in the bunk with an incoherent mumble.

“What was that?” he asked, wrapping his arms around you—caging you in. Your head rested gently against his shoulder letting your legs tangle with his.

“Nothing.” you muffled.

“Thought so.”

•~•~•~•

Zoro isn’t the chatty type, so one of his favorite things to do is listen to you. Whether you’re sitting in his lap or resting by his side, you name it—talking about whatever your heart desires; he’s listening to you.

Your voice and presence soothes him in ways he can’t describe, like a coolant. Often, it eases his troubles, distracting him so he doesn’t have to do it himself—focusing all his thoughts to you.

Zoro tends to pick up on the things others don’t. Whatever you don’t like, he’s noted. Whatever you may fear—he’s quick to keep you away from it. Shield you, protect you, and if you’re sick or sad he knows what to do to make you feel better.

It’s like a second nature to him.

You’d think he wouldn’t have a clue what to get you for a gift or present—but he just somehow does.

Zoro knows how to pick up on silent cues, whether it’s emotional or physical he has a feeling. He can’t describe it, or exactly figure out why, he just knew.

Likewise, you’d gotten a nasty fever—bed ridden for days—and he’d stuck by your side (as most of the crew would). But, he figured you hated being alone. He had a hunch you hated silence, missing the company of your boisterous crew he hoped his presence was enough.

And it always was.

Yeah, he might have slapped a cold rag over your face, telling you to get better so he could train—but he meant well. He just had a gruff way of showing it.

He gave discrete affection, like brushing his hands through your hair to help you sleep, or holding you close so you felt like he wouldn’t leave—he wasn’t too awkward about it. It was causal for him, which led to him sticking by you—deftly tucking you into bed.

To put the cherry on top, Sanji had brought you in one of your favorite foods. Yet you hadn’t remembered mentioning it or telling anyone—but you ultimately suspected Zoro was the culprit.

Either that or you had run your mouth and someone else caught on, which…was probably also Zoro.

But regardless—he’d begrudgingly asked the cook to make it for you.

You didn’t ask him about it, but you did quietly thank him as he dozed off by your side. He’d been awkwardly leaned against you, making your legs go numb under the weight of his muscly chest.

He was an idiot, but he was your lovable idiot. So you’d take what you could get.

There was always so little but so very much of Zoro, and you cherished every second of it.

Zoro always looked out for you, sometimes in ways you couldn’t tell.

The way his eyes followed you as you climbed down from the crows-nest, exhausted or just in general—he made sure you made it down safe. Though if there was ever a moment you’d fall—he’d always catch you.

That includes you being clumsy, or stupid—tripping on a chair or stumbling down the stairs—he had an instinct. Which was also apart of his protective charm.

Zoro’s charm is quiet, but it’s safe. You always felt comfortable no matter the RBF he wore. Which left you questioning if he was frustrated with you or something else entirely.

But he was 100% your safespace.

And your guard dog

But no one would outrightly say that. He could be as brash and avoiding as he wanted to be, but he could never run from you, nor hide his feelings.

Well anyways.

His touch tended to be rough and calloused, you were usually manhandled—not that you minded, but expect being pushed against a wall and kissed senseless.

It was a deep love. The type of love where if someone asked you why you loved eachother, you wouldn’t be able to tell them. You were just drawn, like some gravitational pull, clicking like soulmates. Somehow drawn.

In the warm dawn of a long day, locked in his hold, limbs entangled with snoring bruisingly loud in your ear, he was still yours. Trusting you enough to be vulnerable like this, holding you sleepily in his arms, he loved you.

He never often said it, but when he did, he’d always meant it.

Zoro wasn’t one to beat around the bush, and miscommunication had never really been an issue between you two.

However, without being told you’re loved and that you’re important, overthinking can tend to flourish. Especially with someone like Zoro, which left you doubting your abilities, wondering if the time and effort he gave you was really worth it at all. Overall feeling like a chore…

It’d been a rough patch in your relationship, but it eventually passed. Even if it took a little breakdown and pure avoidance—he’d quickly caught on.

Once he’d figured it out, he wouldn’t be angry or frustrated, he’d just be confused.

Like I said, Zoro’s a little emotionally constipated, so you’d just have to be simple and straightforward with him. Even if it’s hard to communicate that.

He just couldn’t magically understand what the problem was, and you’d probably have to tell him. Ending in a method of heated discussion—or a pure ramble and breakdown of words.

He would be there for you regardless.

•~•~•

For a moment, Zoro would be stunned. A blank sheet, but the words would register and his gaze would slightly soften.

He would take it slow, coming closer, offering you a hug to let you decide what you wanted. As he never wanted to control anything, your relationship was a ship off balance, floating teetering—drifting free, it was simple.

He’d pull you close, letting his hands comfortingly wash over and sink beneath your turmoil, wiping away the very tears he didn’t mean to cause.

He didn’t really know what to think, he didn’t blame you, but he did silently blame himself.

Zoro jokingly said you needed to toughen up, but it had never been meant harshly. His crude humor had been used in the wrong setting and brain would fry as you cried more, feeling stupid.

His brain would fry, but he’d be quick to comfort you. This was probably one of the only times he’d apologize—and they’d chaotically fly and ramble out.

His stubborn heart just couldn’t stand your tears, as it was definitely one of his weaknesses.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t—____ please, please don’t cry,” he’d mutter and shush, gently grabbing your face as he tried to wipe away your tears.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he murmured, pulling you in for another hug until you simply stopped. Guardingly, he’d pull you into his lap, attempting to ease your anxieties.

Zoro would internally curse the world and himself for being so dense, but no matter your anxieties it never affected how he saw you.

His motto, was that if you didn’t feel loved, then he’d simply have to remind you over and over again until you did.

Zoro would bring your tears eyes to look into his and he repeated the words he didn’t often say, determinedly.

“I love you, I. Love. You, you got that?”

He never idled you weak, but he wished you’d realize how important you were to him, and how much he loves you.

The literal Straw Hat to his Luffy, or the SUPER to his Franky, it simply wouldnt be the same without you. And he’d stand stubbornly by it no matter what negative thoughts you had to offer.

You were his to love, his to hold, and his cherish.

He wouldn’t have it any other way.

•~•~•

Overall, a Swordsman’s Love like Zoro’s is indefinite. It honestly depends how you view him and his character, though out of all the odds he was just a kid forced to grow up too fast.

He serves as a first-mate on the crew, meaning his literal job is to protect and take care—meanwhile holding second charge. But in the real light, he’ll downplay it. He puts on a front, acting strong, letting no one see him so weak—but he can’t hide it from you.

The crew sees it sometimes, but it’s mostly with you in quieter moments.

Ever since Kuina died, he’d lost a lot. He’d lost his best friend, and he’d lost a challenge to further achieve his dream.

So he had to live for her, and achieve it himself.

That dream never wavered, but as soon as the crew came into play—they always came first. Including you.

His worry for you was strong, whether you could fight or not you’re always in sharp terms on his radar, and he can’t help it.

You’re not fragile to him, but in the moments where you’re injured, it’s like he has tunnel vision. He doesn’t want you to get hurt. He can’t stand seeing you in pain, or suffering, because it was his job to protect you in the first place.

You’re his.

Maybe, just maybe, he would be on the overprotective side. But, it comes from a place of heart. He’d constantly remind you to rest, to take it easy—and even haul you to bed if he had to.

When you’re hurt he doesn’t let you out of his sight, he watches you like a hawk—but he just needs to know you okay and you’re safe.

Because he never had that confirmation with Kuina, it’d been sudden, out of the ordinary—and he wasn’t taking that chance with you.

He’d tend to your wounds without ask and he’d always be gentle, even if you didn’t want him to do it.

You’d insist you’d be fine, but he’d never let up.

Zoro was a strong minded person, and when he had his mind was set on something, it was very hard to break.

•~•~•

“____, Can you just let me—?”

“No,” you said shakily, crossing your arms over your stomach. A bleeding wound with old bandages was hidden beneath, creating a slow decline in your energy. “I said it’s fine, you don’t need to, Chopper will be back in a bit.”

“Yeah, like I’m gonna wait and let you bleed out. Just C’mere and sit your ass down,” he scoffed, walking over to you.

“I’m not gonna bleed out—“

“If I don’t re-bandage it and put some pressure on it, yeah the hell you are,” Zoro snapped, carefully grabbing your upper sides as he pushed you to sit against the lounge.

It wasn’t long till he had a wad of bandages with antiseptics at either side of you, kneeled in-front.

Despite Zoro being a dummy, you often forgot how tender and smart he could be in situations so dire. He had a way of knowing, but never explaining.

He most likely learned the medical techniques by watching the injuries Chopper had treated on him.

You couldn’t find a word of protest, as you didn’t know how to talk to him when he was so brunt and focused. You weren’t used to being cared for, but Zoro exceeded at that—leaving bittersweet feelings to rest.

You had to look away as he rested between your legs, distracting yourself from the pain as he pushed you gently back.

As careful as he could be, he peeled off your shirt wrapping off the old and tending in with the new.

It was an uncomfortable burn, followed by sharp stabs and throbs leaving you breathless. You were painfully tense and quiet, but he picked up on that.

You quietly cursed, letting out a shaky groan as the antiseptic finally hit your skin. You closed your eyes, focusing on anything else, eventually finding the intricate grooves ceiling where made shaped out figures—creating them like your dignity depended on it.

A slight whimper followed and Zoro’s hand tightened on your thigh.

You sucked in a long breath, closing your eyes as you focused your attention to his touch—rather than the pain that was causing it, “You done yet?”

Zoro dabbed the cotton swab over the freshly cleaned wound, “Mhm, just relax.”

“You’re almost done. A bit longer ____.”

“I know.” you winced.

He hated hearing you like that, much less seeing it.

He quickly wiped over the wound before leaning up to grab the bandage, moving his hand to your lower back—leaning you up.

“I just need to wrap this up. Hold on to me, yeah?”

You nodded, letting him bring your arms to his shoulders. The pain suddenly intensified and you’d whimpered into his shoulder.

“I know, I know.” he whispered, bringing his hand to the back of your head.

Before you knew it, he successfully pulled you into his lap, finishing off the bandages with a gentle tie.

His hand gingerly combed through your hair as he kissed your temple, bringing his hand to your lower back, holding it there with soft motions.

“Rest pretty, I gotcha.” He mumbled, kissing the top of your head. Zoro lifted your legs over his lap, holding you there.

He leaned back against the lounge, resting securely with you in his arms, “I gotcha.”

•~•~•

you know you’re a writer when…

you spend 30 minutes choosing the perfect synonym for “said” only to change it back to “said.”

you google “how long does it take to bleed out” at 3 a.m. and now the FBI is probably watching you.

you write one sentence, stare at it, rewrite it 14 times, and somehow end up back at the original version.

“this scene is so important” but you have no idea what the scene actually is or why it’s important.

you come up with the best story ideas… in the shower… with no way to write them down.

your characters feel like real people but also you’re like “who are these guys and what do they want from me?”

your brain says “start writing!” but instead you reorganize your desk, reread your notes, and spend two hours naming a side character who shows up once.

you’ve cried over your WIP exactly 67 times and will do it again because the pain is the point.

you reread something you wrote and think, “wow, did i peak as a writer three months ago?”

every writing session begins with the sacred ritual of scrolling social media, opening unnecessary tabs, and procrastinating until panic sets in.

you have no idea how long a chapter should be, so you just… vibe.

you can’t watch tv or movies without mentally critiquing the plot, dialogue, and pacing.

your writing playlist is 98% vibes, 2% songs you’ll actually listen to while writing.

you keep a “murder notebook” but swear it’s not suspicious because it’s for your novel (probably).

the phrase “just one more draft” is your eternal mantra, even though you’ve rewritten this thing more times than you can count.

Glimpse of Us

Pairing: Roronoa Zoro x Reader

Zoro can’t stop seeing Kuina in you—her voice, her stance, her likes and dislikes. As the subtle comparisons mount, you’re left feeling like a shadow, never fully seen for who you are. Can he ever truly see even a glimpse of you, or is it always a glimpse of her?

Word Count: ~4,000

tags: angst, emotional distance

my masterlist here ♡

You joined the Straw Hat crew just after Dressrosa, your sword at your hip and fire in your veins. Zoro was the first to spar with you, his eyebrow raising as your blade nearly nicked his sleeve.

“Not bad,” he muttered. “What’s your name again?”

You told him, and when you smiled, something in his eyes flickered. You didn’t know it then, but he was remembering someone else.

Your face, the way your expression softened when you smiled, reminded him of her. The way your eyes sparkled with that fire, it was too familiar. It wasn’t just your face; it was the way it was framed with your hair, the way your lips curved when you laughed—something in your features felt like the ghost of someone long lost.

“She was strong,” he said under his breath, not to you—but to the ghost behind your shoulder.

Still, he trained with you every morning. He watched you eat three bowls of rice like it was nothing. He called you annoying when you talked too much and interesting when you didn’t back down. You’d catch him staring sometimes—his gaze unreadable.

You thought it was the beginning of something.

⸻

It was late, and you were both on watch. The Thousand Sunny rocked gently beneath your feet, stars swimming above you.

“You always stay up this late?” you asked, sitting beside him on the lion’s head.

“Yeah,” he said. “I like the silence.”

You looked at him, and he didn’t look away.

“I never asked,” you said softly. “Why did you become a swordsman?”

There was a pause. Then: “A promise.”

“To who?”

He was quiet again, gaze drifting to the sea. “Someone who meant a lot.”

You nodded. You didn’t press. But his hand brushed yours—rough fingers curling slightly—and when he didn’t pull away, neither did you.

You thought that maybe this was how it began: gently, gradually.

⸻

It started with little things.

Zoro offered you her favorite drink from the fridge. He mentioned her name once by mistake—Kuina—and froze like the air had been knocked out of him.

You pretended not to notice.

But then came the slip-ups.

“She used to hold her sword like that,” he said mid-training, watching you adjust your grip on the blade.

You paused, sword in hand, before nodding lightly. “Guess it works for me too,” you replied, though it stung.

“She hated fish too,” he noted over dinner one night, pointing at your plate when you hesitated to eat. “You like it, but… she never could stomach it.”

You gave him a forced smile, trying to ignore the coldness creeping into your chest. “I guess I’m different.”

At first, you smiled. You laughed it off, letting it go.

Until it kept happening.

“Kuina always said that.”

“Kuina used to hum that song.”

“Kuina—”

You slammed your fork down one night at the table, but you didn’t say a word. He didn’t notice your silence. Or maybe he chose not to.

⸻

Nami found you in the hallway after another awkward dinner, your arms folded tight across your chest.

“He doesn’t mean to hurt you,” she said gently. “It’s just… grief. Sometimes it sticks.”

You stared at the wall, trying to find something to focus on, but the words kept repeating in your head. Grief. Grief. Grief.

“I’m not her,” you said quietly, though you weren’t entirely sure who you were trying to convince—Nami, or yourself.

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be her.”

“You’re not.”

You bit your lip, voice breaking. “Then why does he keep looking at me like I am?”

⸻

You found him in the crow’s nest, sharpening his sword.

“Zoro,” you said quietly.

He looked up, pausing mid-stroke. “Hm?”

You stepped closer, heart in your throat. “What did you see when I joined the crew?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Was it me?” Your voice trembled. “Or was it just someone who reminded you of her?”

Zoro sat up straighter, eyes narrowing like he couldn’t believe you were saying this. “Y/N—”

“You talk about her like she was everything,” you said, a soft ache rising in your voice. “And maybe she was. I understand that. But you can’t keep looking at me like I’m her. I’m not a ghost. I’m not your memory.”

He stood slowly, arms hanging at his sides. “I know you’re not—”

“Do you?” you snapped, stepping back like his presence burned. “Because every time you mention her favorite food, her stance, her voice—it feels like I’m being folded into a mold I never agreed to fit.”

Zoro’s mouth parted, but no words came.

You bit out the words, sharp and shaking. “I’m not Kuina.”

His voice came low and rough. “Yes. You are not.”

There was a pause, sharp as a blade between you.

“So then,” you whispered, “what about the people who are here? Who want to love you now? Do they even stand a chance?”

He closed his eyes like your words had split him open. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”

“But you did,” you said, voice cracking. “You made me feel like I was someone you were trying to remember—not someone standing right in front of you.”

Zoro opened his eyes again, pain flickering behind them. “That’s not fair.”

“No, what’s not fair is that you keep carrying her into every room we’re in and then wonder why I feel invisible.” You stared at him, your heart pounding. “Do you even see me for who I am? Or is all you see the parts of her that I happen to resemble?”

He looked stunned.

“Do you even know what I like? What I hate? What I’m afraid of? Or have you only been memorizing Kuina all over again through me?”

Zoro’s voice dropped. “I see you.”

“Then tell me something about me,” you challenged, stepping closer. “Not something I remind you of. Something real. Something only I would say or do or think. Tell me you see me.”

He opened his mouth—but nothing came out.

His lips parted, his brow furrowed, eyes darting like he was searching for the right words in the fog of his guilt.

But there was only silence.

Just that.

Your breath hitched.

“See?” you said, and your voice cracked like glass. Disappointment twisted your expression as you stepped back, something fragile and unspoken crumbling inside you.

⸻

You stopped training with him.

You laughed a little less. You avoided late watches.

He noticed. But he didn’t chase.

Sanji filled the silence in the kitchen. Luffy never asked why you stopped joining Zoro on the deck. The crew carried on. And maybe you did too. Maybe that’s what survival looked like.

But some nights, you stood at the rail of the ship, wind cold on your cheeks, and wondered if you’d ever been seen for you—not her echo.

⸻

One morning, he stood beside you. Quiet. Not saying a word.

You didn’t turn.

“I remember her,” he said finally. “Every day. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t see you.”

You stayed still, unsure if it was comfort or cruelty to hear that.

Zoro’s voice was rough. “I saw how you always double-check the anchor chain before we dock. How you clean your blade like it’s a ritual. You hate lychee, love thunderstorms, and you always look out for Chopper when he’s scared. You stand with your weight slightly to the left when you’re lying. And when you’re angry, you chew your words like you’re afraid they’ll hurt.”

You swallowed hard.

“You were never a shadow,” he said. “You were vivid. And I—I was just too lost to hold you properly.”

A long silence stretched.

You breathed, voice soft. “I wish I’d been someone else.”

Zoro’s eyes lowered. “I wish I’d been someone better.”

You turned to face him for the first time in days. The space between you pulsed with the weight of everything you both had carried.

You turned to him, eyes rimmed with quiet hurt. “You said you see me now. But when I needed you to, you didn’t. And now… I don’t know what’s left to see.”

Zoro reached for a word, a gesture—anything—but nothing came.

You stepped back. “Maybe all we ever were was a glimpse of something that never had time to become.”

And then you walked away.

He didn’t stop you—not because he didn’t care, but because he finally understood.

Sometimes, love comes too late.

WIP game!

Thank you for the tag mootie @chibinasuu

•~•~•~•

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the |files in your wip folder, regardless of how non descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

•~•~•~•

1. Anxieties (Straw Haw x Reader)

2. Sleepy Stalls (Trafalgar Law x !Fem!Reader)

3. Card DECLINED (Monster Trio+Law x Reader)

4. A Sniper’s Love (Usopp x !Fem!Reader)

5. Death Of Pizzaz (Trafalgar Law x Reader)

6. You’re Going Down Shits and Giggles

(Roronoa Zoro x !Fem!Reader)

•~•~•

I’m excited to get these done! Be sure to ask questions! 🫶

| @ink-perfect @angel1010xx @slowcatsisland

If you wanted to join >:)

•~•~•

14 beers zoro

SILLY GIRL

synopsis: after injuring yourself in the abdomen while attempting to clean zoro's katanas, you try to conceal the horrifying slash that you have caused.

contains: fem! reader, blood, pure fluff, teasing.

author's note: y'all, should i start writing for squid game characters?? i fear i can't go a day without watching edits of lee byung hun & lee jung jae 🚶

a horrendous, lengthy slash decorates your lower abdomen, crimson red liquid continuously seeping out from the thin scar. "s-shit.." anxiety takes over you as you gaze down at the bloody mess before your eyes. the tiramisu of tissue that is being clutched tightly over the stinging scar is coated in blood, making it difficult for you to even try and cover it up.

this is what had led you to the consequences.

the mint-haired man let out a soft huff as he examined the cut. It was a deep gash, and it definitely hadn't been treated properly. gently running his fingers around the edges of the wound, doing his best to handle it delicately. "you should have come to me or chopper sooner, silly girl. you could have made it worse if it got infected."

he sighed as he felt your death grip on his arm. it was like you're afraid that he's mad at you for laying a hand on his swords. "i'm sorry.." you mumble remorsefully.

he could feel you tense up at his touch, but he did his best to be as gentle as possible. you can't help but squirm under your boyfriend's firm, yet gentle hold as your small hands bunched up the white bed sheets from the intense ache. "z-..zoro.." the man ignores the whine that had just slipped out of your lips. when he holds down the piece of material ever so slightly, the tears that has been threatening to spill out for the past few minutes are now rolling down your cheeks non-stop.

he didn't like you putting your health at risk.

you could feel zoro's hand reaching under your shirt to gently rub your back in circular motions with the pad of his thumb to soothe you.

he paused in his treatment when he notices your body go limp against him, your breathing becoming more steady now.

he patted your head softly before running his fingers through your hair, his hand large enough to almost cover your entire head. he shifted you on his lap, allowing you to rest comfortably against his broad chest, head tucked under his chin as he treats your wound.

hello!!! I’ve never asked for a request before so this is so strange but I love your writing ❤️

I was wondering if you could write something with Zoro X Reader where the reader gets injured badly in a fight and zoro is also too injured to carry her back to the ship. So he has to entrust Sanji to carry her back for him. Maybe there is a light bit of teasing between the two men but ultimately they care about their crew mate more than petty fighting. Hope I explained that well and once again love your work.

Bruised Egos

zoro x reader

a/n: thank youuuu!! hope you'll like this eheh

words count: 2.2k

tags: hurt/comfort, sanji & zoro friendship (reluctant), established relationship, injured reader, protective zoro

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The smoke clears just enough to make out the wreckage of the battlefield. Bodies lie scattered, groaning or out cold. Blood paints the ground, most of it not yours, but the gash across your side is too deep for pride, and you’re only staying upright because Zoro’s shoulder props you up.

“Shit…” you breathe, slumping “That bastard nearly cracked my spine.”

Zoro hisses through clenched teeth “You shouldn’t have taken that hit.”

You try to laugh, but it catches in your throat, half cough, half whimper “Wasn’t trying to. Thought you had my back.”

“I did have your back,” he growls, voice low “He just went through me first.”

You look up. Zoro’s bleeding from the temple, his shirt ripped, a deep fresh cut across his chest. One arm hangs limp at his side. His swords are sheathed, but his breathing’s all wrong. Shaky. Strained.

You know that look.

“Zoro… you can’t carry me.”

“I’m not leaving you here.”

“And I’m not walking. I can’t feel my legs, babe.”

His jaw tightens. You see the war happening in his head. His pride screams to fix it himself, but his body’s failing. You lean your forehead against his, voice soft.

“You gotta call someone to help.”

Zoro’s silent.

Then a voice cuts through the haze like a damn knife.

“Ohhh no. No, no, no. This is bad. This is very bad.”

Sanji.

His boots skid to a stop in the dirt, one sleeve torn, bruises darkening his jaw. He crouches beside you, worry etched across his face “Ma chérie, what the hell happened to you? You’re—you’re—”

“I’m not dying” you murmur, almost amused.

“She’s not dying,” Zoro snaps, shooting Sanji a glare “But she can’t move. I can’t carry her.”

Sanji’s brows shoot up “So you’re actually asking me for help?”

Zoro doesn’t respond. He just glares harder.

“Oh my god,” Sanji gasps theatrically, placing a hand over his heart “Roronoa Zoro, Pirate Hunter, is entrusting me with his precious, injured girlfriend. The world is ending.”

“I will end your world if you drop her.”

You groan, head lolling back “Guys. Not the time.”

Sanji immediately sobers “Right. Sorry.” He leans in, his tone gentler now “This is gonna hurt, but I’ll be careful.”

Zoro grabs his wrist before he touches you “If you get weird, even a little, I’ll know.”

Sanji rolls his eyes, but there’s a flicker of something honest under the dramatics “She’s hurt, moss-for-brains. Not my type when she’s bleeding out.”

You snort despite the pain “Wow. Thanks.”

Zoro lets go of Sanji’s wrist, reluctantly.

Sanji carefully hooks his arms under your knees and back, lifting you with surprising steadiness. You flinch, but he adjusts, murmuring apologies the entire time. You can feel Zoro’s gaze burning into the both of you.

“Hey” you whisper to Zoro, reaching your hand out.

He grabs it instantly, squeezing it tight “I’ll be right behind you.”

Sanji shifts your weight, starting toward the ship “Take your time, mosshead. Wouldn’t want you to collapse on the way and make me carry you too.”

Zoro mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “dead chef walking.”

But you hear it too, beneath the insults, under the tension, is trust.

And for now, that’s enough.

“Chopper!”

Sanji’s voice bounces off the twisted trees of the island interior. He cradles you tighter against his chest, eyes scanning for movement “Come on, little reindeer, now’s not the time to play scavenger.”

Zoro limps behind, every step deliberate. He’s pale under the dirt and blood, his knuckles clenched tight. He hasn’t spoken in minutes, not since you stopped answering him.

You groaned once. Then your head lolled against Sanji’s shoulder. And now nothing.

“She’s out cold,” Sanji mutters, almost to himself “Breathing’s shallow. I don’t like this.”

Zoro stops walking “Let me see her.”

Sanji glances back “We don’t have time to switch carriers, dumbass. You can barely stand.”

Zoro doesn’t budge “I said, let me see her.”

Reluctantly, Sanji kneels and shifts your weight slightly so Zoro can crouch beside him. Zoro brushes hair away from your face, his hand trembling just enough to notice.

“Hey. Y/N.” His voice is low now, barely audible “You with me?”

Your eyelids don’t flutter. Your lips are pale.

Sanji watches him, surprised at the way Zoro’s hand lingers on your cheek.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” Sanji offers gently “She’ll pull through.”

“She better,” Zoro mutters, eyes locked on your face “I didn’t fight off three of these monsters just to watch her pass out in the dirt.”

Sanji lets him have a moment before standing again “Let’s move. We’re no good to her like this.”

Zoro stands too, but he’s slower now. His entire right leg is dragging slightly.

“You’re falling apart,” Sanji notes, voice tinged with both sarcasm and concern “Need me to carry you next?”

Zoro snorts “I’d rather be buried.”

“Wouldn't be the first time I carry you... But suit yourself, marimo.”

Sanji adjusts his hold on you again, but more carefully this time. You’re burning up now, your body swinging between chills and heat.

“You’re holding her like she’s made of glass” Zoro points out.

“She is right now,” Sanji snaps “You want me to drop her?”

“You’d be dead before she hit the ground.”

“Romantic,” Sanji mutters “Just say you love her and let’s go.”

Zoro doesn’t answer. His silence says everything.

They stumble into a clearing and Sanji spots Chopper.

“Chopper!” Zoro bellows.

The doctor turns, eyes wide “What happened?! Oh no, oh no—is that blood?”

Sanji doesn’t waste time. He kneels, laying you gently on the nearest blanket “She passed out a few minutes ago. Deep gash on her side. Internal bleeding, maybe. She hasn’t opened her eyes.”

Zoro drops beside you, his whole body stiff with tension “She was conscious right after the fight. Talking. Then she just… went quiet.”

Chopper’s already on it, gloves on, stethoscope out “Stay back, both of you. Let me work.”

Sanji pulls Zoro a few steps back. They both stand in silence for a moment, watching Chopper work with rapid, practiced hands.

“She’s gonna make it,” Sanji says quietly “She has to.”

Zoro glances at him, exhausted “If she doesn’t, I’ll kill you.”

Sanji rolls his eyes “You really know how to make a guy feel comforted.”

Zoro’s lip twitches, and for a second, just a second, Sanji sees something close to gratitude behind his usual scowl.

You stir, faintly, the barest motion of fingers twitching.

Zoro immediately drops to your side “Hey. Hey, hey—look at me.”

Your lips move, dry and cracked “…Zoro?”

He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for an hour “Yeah. I’m here. You fainted like an idiot. Don’t do that again.”

Chopper’s already at your other side “She’s stable now. But she needs rest. And stitches.”

“Ugh,” you murmur “Don’t let Sanji near my stitches.”

“I would never,” Sanji huffs from behind you “Though I was tempted to draw little hearts around the bandages.”

Zoro glares “Try it. I dare you.”

You crack a weak smile “You guys are… the worst.”

But your voice is soft, and your fingers curl weakly around Zoro’s sleeve. And that’s enough to keep him from collapsing himself.

You dream in flashes. Smoke. Pain. Arms under you. A soft voice murmuring apologies. The scent of cigarette smoke and flour. Something warm against your forehead.

Then everything fades into darkness.

When you wake up, it’s to the low creak of wood, the soft hum of the Sunny rocking beneath you. The room smells like clean linen, alcohol, and the ocean. You’re warm, safe. Your side aches like hell, but your brain is clear enough now to register that you’re alive, and tucked neatly into the infirmary’s bed.

Your fingers twitch. A shadow stirs beside the bed.

Zoro.

He’s slumped in a chair, arms folded across his chest, chin dipped low like he fell asleep mid-glare. One foot taps slightly, and there’s a fresh bandage wrapped around his bicep.

You blink slowly. Then whisper, hoarse, “…Zoro?”

He snaps awake so fast the chair nearly tips backward “You’re up?”

You nod, barely. Your throat’s dry, but you manage, “Feels like I got hit by a sea train.”

“You did,” he grumbles. He leans forward, his hand gripping the edge of the mattress like if he doesn’t hold on, you might disappear “Don’t scare me like that again.”

“You were scared?”

He looks away, cheeks faintly tinged “No.”

You smile weakly.

There’s a long pause. Then you whisper, “Can you… get Sanji?”

Zoro freezes “What?”

“I wanna thank him. I just remember… being carried. He was gentle. He smelled like pastries.” You grin sleepily “Like a knight or something.”

Zoro stares at you. His eye twitches “A knight.”

“Mmhmm. My… chevalier in shining apron.”

“Oh, hell no.”

You giggle weakly, and he scowls even harder.

Zoro mutters something about “damn curly-brow” and “should’ve let me carry her and pass out instead” but he gets up anyway, muttering all the way to the door. He yanks it open and yells down the hall:

“HEY, LOVE-COOK! YOUR DAMN PRINCESS WOKE UP AND WANTS HER SHINING FRENCH-FRIED KNIGHT!”

You wheeze a laugh and immediately regret it as pain lances up your side.

“Ugh—ow. Ow. Okay. Worth it.”

Zoro glares at you “Not funny.”

You grin “A little funny.”

Moments later, Sanji slides into the room with a flourish, one hand to his heart, the other holding a steaming mug of tea.

“Ma belle, you called for your humble rescuer?”

Zoro groans “Kill me.”

Sanji kneels beside your bed dramatically “I brought tea, special blend for pain and recovery. Also, you’re glowing even with dried blood and stitches. How do you do it?”

You take the tea, sipping carefully “Thanks, Sanji. Seriously. I don’t remember much, but I remember you carrying me. You felt safe.”

Sanji softens instantly, all flair dropping “Any time. You’re our crewmate, our family. I’d carry you through a burning building if I had to.”

Zoro mumbles, “Burning kitchen, maybe. Not a building.”

Sanji ignores him.

“Still,” you murmur, “you were… really sweet. Thank you.”

Zoro groans louder “That’s it. I’m throwing myself overboard.”

Sanji smirks “What’s the matter, mosshead? Jealous?”

Zoro doesn’t answer. He just sits back down and crosses his arms, glowering at the wall like it insulted him.

You reach out with a small smile, grabbing his hand. He looks over, still sulking, but your fingers tug his down.

You mouth, thank you.

He doesn’t smile, but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. Just once.

Sanji rises “Alright. I’ll let you two lovebirds bicker in peace. But next time she needs rescuing, I’m bringing rose petals.”

“I’ll bring my swords.”

“Romantic!”

The door clicks shut behind Sanji.

Zoro sighs, muttering, “Chevalier my ass…”

You smile and lean back “You’re still my favorite swordsman.”

He grunts. But his hand never leaves yours.

You watch him in silence until he speaks.

“Still thinking about your chevalier?”

You smile faintly “Still sulking about it?”

He glances at you “I’m not sulking.”

“You’re absolutely sulking.”

He scowls “I just don’t like the way you looked at him in his arms.”

“I was out of it. I don’t even remember much. But something about the way he held me felt safe. And soft. And dumb, and warm. I was so out of it that at some point I even thought for sure it was you.” You smirk “Turns out it was the one who wears suits to jungle battles.”

Zoro huffs “You’re comparing me to that frilly cook?”

You nod slowly, eyes closing for a moment “Mhm.”

Zoro grunts “Tch. Dumb.”

But then he leans forward, and you feel his callused hand brush your arm, slow and deliberate. His voice softens, just a little.

“You scared me, you know.”

You open your eyes again “Yeah?”

“You dropped so fast. One minute, you were teasing me. Next… nothing. Just a dead weight in curly-brow’s arms. I couldn’t do a damn thing.”

His hand closes around yours. Not possessive, just grounded. Steady.

“I thought maybe I’d lost you.”

You shift your fingers to lace with his “You didn’t.”

“I almost did.”

“But you didn’t...” you repeat gently, tugging his hand until he leans a little closer “You were there. Even if you couldn’t carry me, you stayed. That means more to me than anything.”

Zoro stares at you, unreadable. Then, slowly, he leans in and presses his forehead to yours.

For a long, quiet moment, you just breathe each other in.

No bravado. No teasing. Just warmth. Just him.

Eventually, you murmur, “You know… I might ask Sanji to carry me again.”

Zoro pulls back with a look.

You smir “Kidding.”

Zoro shakes his head, standing up with a low groan, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“You’re lucky you’re injured,” he mutters “Or I’d drop-kick you off the deck.”

“Romantic” you whisper.

He smirks, just slightly.

Zoro pulls the chair closer to your bedside, sits again, and this time, he doesn’t fold his arms or pretend he’s not watching you sleep.

When your eyes finally drift closed, his hand is still wrapped around yours. Firm. Protective. Unmoving.

Sanji might have carried you.

But Zoro never let go.