You Know The Song? "My Heart Will Go On" Imagine How The Monster Trio (separately) Would React To Reader

Lotta stuff in canon and fanon about Zoro being wild and brutish and violent and it's not untrue depending on the circumstances but I feel like he doesn't get enough credit for how often he's actually gentle, calm, and even altruistic. He's not just sort of working toward his goal without causing too much harm to innocent parties; he goes out of his way to do good even to his own detriment, and that's how we're introduced to him in the first place. Luffy doesn't pick people for his crew that aren't kind, and Zoro is a prime example of that even if he's not flashy or conventionally polite about it.

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.

CLINGY MUCH? | ONE SHOT

Shanks x GN!Reader

Zoro x GN!Reader

Mihawk x GN!Reader

a/n: this js me trying to write ffs, this is experimental and for fun only so expect this ff cringe and oc

tags: sfw, fluff, soft, ooc(?)

masterlist | ko-fi

: 𓏲🐋 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖✩࿐࿔ 🌊

SHANKS

You were many things aboard the Red Force—calm, sharp-tongued, and painfully unbothered by Shanks’ endless antics.

You were also completely unaware of the fact that the most feared (and flirted-with) captain in the New World couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

Not in a creepy way. Not even in a romantic way… at least, not that you noticed.

He’d toss an arm around your shoulders like it was a habit. Rest his hand on your waist when laughing. Tug you into his side when something “dangerous” happened, like a slightly aggressive breeze or a seagull flying too low.

You just chalked it up to him being Shanks.

Until, one bright morning, the crew decided enough was enough.

It started with Benn Beckman sighing dramatically as he walked onto the deck.

“Do you two need a room or something?”

You blinked from where you stood, arms crossed. “We’re not even doing anything.”

Benn pointed. “His hand has been on your lower back for ten minutes.”

Shanks blinked down at his own hand like it betrayed him. “Huh. Didn’t even notice.”

You raised a brow. “Are you okay? Do you have tactile issues?”

Lucky Roux snorted as he passed by with a turkey leg. “Yeah, it’s called ‘falling for someone and not knowing what to do with your hands.’”

Shanks turned red. You remained… utterly unaffected.

“Touch-starved pirate disease,” Lime Juice muttered, jotting fake notes like a doctor. “Tragic. Symptoms include: prolonged physical contact, excessive grinning, and spontaneous cuddling in public.”

Hongo popped his head out of the crow’s nest. “I saw him brush your hair behind your ear during the storm last week.”

“That was because it got in their face,” Shanks defended.

You nodded. “He didn’t want me to get stabbed by my own bangs. Very heroic.”

“You’re wearing a braid,” Yasopp called from the helm.

A long pause.

“…Okay, I’m not good with excuses,” Shanks muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. His hand bumped yours in the process.

You tilted your head, eyes narrowing. “Captain.”

“Yes?”

“You’re touching me again.”

“...I genuinely didn’t notice DAHAHAHA.”

The crew erupted into laughter.

You blinked slowly and glanced down at your joined hands, then back up at him. “You’ve been holding my hand for a minute now. You good?”

“Maybe.”

You stared.

He stared.

“…You’re kinda warm,” he added, grinning.

“I’m wearing gloves.”

“Exactly. Impressive.”

You didn’t smile, but your voice was flat with dry humor. “You wanna marry me, too? Get it over with?”

Shanks choked. “Whoa—what?”

“You’re already touching me like I’m your lover. Might as well commit.”

The crew howled.

“I’m starting to like them more than you, Cap,” Benn said, lighting a cigar.

“They’ve got more bite,” Lime Juice grinned.

Lucky Roux offered you a celebratory turkey leg like a sword. “You just proposed better than he ever could.”

You calmly took it, giving a single nod. “Thanks. I accept my own proposal.”

Shanks was still frozen. “Wait, are we actually engaged now?”

You took a slow bite of the turkey leg, deadpan. “Keep touching me like that, and you’ll owe me alimony.”

ZORO

You were minding your own business—arms crossed, eyes half-lidded, back leaned slightly against the Sunny’s railing—when a familiar weight thunked into your side.

Again.

You didn’t flinch, didn’t glance, didn’t even blink. Just spoke.

“Zoro.”

“What.”

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what.”

“Treating me like a living chair.”

He grunted. “You’re stable. And not annoying.”

“That’s a compliment?” you asked, still deadpan.

“Take it or leave it.”

The crew had noticed. Of course they had. This was the sixth day in a row Zoro had casually latched onto you like a sleepy barnacle.

“Oi, mosshead!” Sanji snapped, appearing from the galley with smoke swirling and a righteous fury in his eyes. “Get off them, you clingy cucumber!”

Zoro cracked open an eye. “Make me.”

“Oh, I will!” Sanji stomped over dramatically. “Y/N-chwaann shouldn’t have to carry your freeloading swordsman body weight! If anyone deserves to be close to them, it’s me!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You literally tripped into my lap yesterday trying to ‘tie your shoe.’ You were barefoot.”

“It was a metaphor!” Sanji cried. “For falling head over heels!”

Zoro scoffed. “That was the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Says the mossy limpet glued to their side like a touchy fungus!”

Zoro didn’t move. “Jealousy’s not a good look, curly.”

“You—!!”

“Guys,” Nami sighed, “can’t we go one day without turning affection into a shouting match?”

Brook leaned on his cane, chuckling. “Yohohoho! Young love… or something!”

Usopp squinted. “Wait. Has Zoro always been this clingy with Y/N?”

Robin smiled mysteriously. “Since thriller bark, at least.”

Franky nodded solemnly. “Saw him fall asleep on their shoulder mid-battle once. SUPER unconscious.”

“I thought he was dead,” Chopper added, horrified. “Turns out he was just really comfy.”

Zoro’s grip on your shoulder tightened very slightly, and you finally glanced sideways at him.

“Do you know you’re this touchy?” you asked.

He looked like he wanted to evaporate into the deck. “I… just don’t mind you being close.”

You blinked slowly. “Is that samurai code for ‘I like you’?”

Sanji audibly gagged. “Oi! Don’t flirt in front of me!”

“We’re not flirting,” you said.

Zoro mumbled, “Might be.”

Sanji died inside.

“Y/N-chwann” he said gravely, dropping to one knee. “I beg of you—pick me instead! I would never lean on you like a sweaty tree log!”

Zoro growled. “Because you’d faint from being close.”

“AT LEAST I’D DIE HANDSOME!”

You looked between the two of them and sighed.

“I just want to drink my tea without being fought over,” you muttered, walking off—Zoro immediately following, like a shadow with swords.

“You’re still touching me,” you noted.

“Didn’t say I’d stop,” he replied casually.

You stopped walking, turned, and looked him square in the eye.

“You’re aware this is very couple-coded, right?”

He blinked, then grunted. “Guess we should make it official then.”

You blinked right back. “That was fast.”

“Why waste time.”

You smirked just a little. “Romantic.”

He shrugged. “You’re warm. And you don’t talk too much.”

“That’s your idea of a proposal?”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

From behind you, Sanji dramatically screamed into the ocean.

MIHAWK

Kuraigana Island was a wasteland of stone, wind, and uncomfortable silences. You didn’t mind. You were the type to thrive in eerie places — quiet, observant, and allergic to nonsense.

Which is probably why Mihawk didn’t bother with small talk.

Or... so you thought.

Lately, the world’s greatest swordsman had developed a habit of materializing wherever you were. You’d be cleaning a blade — and there he was, pouring tea. You’d sit on the crumbling stone wall for some air — and there he’d be, suddenly trimming the overgrown vines right next to you.

At first, you thought it was coincidence.

Until today.

“...You know you don’t have to sharpen every one of my knives,” you said flatly, watching him work silently at the bench beside you.

“I didn’t,” Mihawk replied, still honing the blade. “Only the dull ones.”

You blinked. “That was my butter knife.”

“Then it was very dull.”

From the far side of the ruins, Zoro grunted as he finished a set of squats. “He refilled their canteen twice this morning.”

“Once,” Mihawk corrected, still not looking up.

“Twice,” Zoro insisted. “Once after breakfast. Then again after they just looked at the sink.”

Perona floated down with a snort. “He also folded their coat. While they were still wearing it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Wait. Is that why my sleeves were shorter for a second?”

“You had a wrinkle.”

“I always have a wrinkle.”

Mihawk looked up with that unreadable expression. “And now you don’t.”

Zoro huffed. “What even is this? He acts like a butler. But like, a scary one.”

Mihawk narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m not a butler.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Perona muttered, arms crossed. “You fixed the strap on their satchel too.”

Mihawk didn’t respond to that.

Perona raised a brow. “You gonna deny it?”

“No,” Mihawk said coolly, “because it was crooked.”

Zoro leaned against a stone pillar, towel around his neck. “He also moved your seat at the dining table.”

“That was my seat,” you said.

Mihawk finally gave you a long, side glance. “You’ve sat on the left for the past four mornings. I simply ensured it remained consistent.”

You deadpanned. “You rearranged the furniture.”

“Briefly.”

Zoro stared. “And when they tripped over that vine—”

“I cut the vine before they fell,” Mihawk snapped with a tone just shy of defensive.

“Bro. You lunged across the courtyard.”

Mihawk sipped his wine calmly. “It was in the way.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And when you pulled me by the hood into the shade the other day?”

“You were overheating.”

“I wasn’t sweating.”

“You were blinking slowly.”

You stared. “That’s just how I blink.”

There was a long pause.

Then Perona gasped. “Wait, wait — you also fixed the strap on their scabbard!”

“I adjusted it. The weight distribution was uneven.”

Zoro clapped once, grinning. “So you are clingy.”

Mihawk’s eyes narrowed, the glint in them sharp and dangerous. “I am not.”

You leaned your chin on your hand, amused. “Then what would you call this?”

He paused. “Awareness.”

Perona lost it. “You mean hyper-awareness. Of one (1) person.”

Mihawk ignored her. “It’s strategic. I simply ensure you're at your most efficient.”

“That’s not efficiency,” Zoro said, wiping his forehead. “That’s doting.”

Mihawk arched a brow. “You think a swordsman cannot be observant?”

“You folded their laundry in order of fabric weight.”

“They prefer it that way.”

You blinked. “I never said that.”

He side-eyed you, expression cool. “You didn’t need to.”

You blinked again.

Zoro grunted. “You see? He’s acting like we’re all weird for noticing.”

Perona jabbed a finger toward him. “He's totally doing the ‘if I act calm, no one will notice I'm obsessed’ thing.”

Mihawk finally gave a soft, tired sigh — the kind that said you people are exhausting.

Then, turning to you, he asked, “Would you like tea?”

“I haven’t said I was thirsty.”

He didn’t blink. “You will be.”

You stared. “Are you psychic?”

“No,” he said simply. “You’re predictable.”

You squinted. “...That sounds like flirting.”

Mihawk blinked slowly. “I don’t flirt.”

Perona groaned. “OH MY GOD—”

Mihawk stood up, cloak sweeping behind him, expression unreadable as always. He held out the canteen like he’d already won this conversation.

You took it with narrowed eyes, muttering, “Thanks... I guess.”

He nodded, calm as ever. “You’re welcome.”

Zoro crossed his arms. “Still denying it?”

Mihawk looked at all of them — then at you — and with perfect poise said,

“I’m just efficient.”

And with that, he turned and walked away.

You stared after him, took a sip from the canteen, and sighed.

“…Efficiently annoying.”

Franky grabbing Robin in the middle of the battle and kissing her

Robin pulling back smiling "Franky. This is hardly the time t-"

Franky grinning with confidence "What can I say? When I see something worth fighting for, I go all in."

Robin raising an eyebrow "And here I thought you were all about the explosions."

Franky smirked"Well, you’re an explosion I’m happy to get caught in."

yeah

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.

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

•-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-••-•-•-•-•

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.”

•~•~•

I know I need to sleep when I create shit like this

I’m kinda annoyed with Oda tbh. Ever since Haki had been explained/introduced he has yet to give Haki to other strawhats. I hope he plans to do because it makes more sense than other members not having it. Like Nami, Robin and Usopp, I mean observation and armament Haki is perfect for all three of them, idk why Oda has gone this long without giving them Haki.