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somanyratsinthewalls · 2 months

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Self-Doubt (+18)

Pairing: Sanji x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600

MINORS DNI

Summary: Sanji isn't himself after being rescued. You help him work through his big feelings

CW: HURT AND COMFORT. trauma? sex, oral sex, MOMMY KINK, boob suckin, unprotected sex (don't) creampies (also don't) and pet names.

(Not proof read my edible kicked in)

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After successfully rescuing your cook from Big Mom’s clutches, there was something off about him. Sanji wasn’t the same flirty, playful man that had left you at Dressrosa. He seemed distracted all of the time, like he was lost inside of his own head as he absentmindedly stirred pots and pans on the stove. His constant fawning over you, Nami, and Robin had slowed dramatically and hell, he barely even argued with Zoro anymore… that was the biggest red flag. You cared for your crew mate and friend deeply, so you were determined to help him out of this slump.

Your attempts at getting him to open up to you had repeatedly failed. Each time you asked him if something was bothering him or even just asking how he was doing, he would fake a smile and tell you not to worry about him. You couldn’t give up, you had to try harder.

One afternoon, you catch Sanji in the kitchen preparing for dinner.

“Smells good in here!” You say in a sing song voice you enter the galley and see your favorite cook at the counter chopping carrots.

“Y/n, darling, thank you. Anything you need?” Sanji briefly looks up at you to flash you a tired smile.

“Hmmm maybe…” You stroll into the large pantry and root around.

“Y/n if there’s something you desire, I’d be happy to fetch it for you, no need to dig around in there…” Sanji puts his knife down on the cutting board with a huff.

Before Sanji could step towards the pantry, you emerge with two wine glasses and a bottle of white wine in your hands.

“What do you say you shuck a couple of those oysters in the ice box and we can enjoy them with this,” You wiggle the wine bottle in Sanji’s direction. “Like we used to back the day? I know they’re your favorite. Remember when we’d have to put a chair under the door handle so Luffy wouldn’t come in and slurp them all down?”

Sanji chuckles lowly and shakes his head.

“Yes how could I forget? We would get so drunk, too…” He cracks a genuine smily briefly before it fades from his lips. “I’m not hungry. But if you’d like some, I can prepare some for you.”

You sigh.

“I don’t want them by myself. Will you at least have a glass of wine with me?” You smile and step closer to him.

“I can do that.” Sanji reaches into his pocket and retrieved his wine key. He takes the bottle and glasses from you. He opens the bottle and pours two large glasses full.

“Ice in yours?” Sanji asks.

“You always remember how I like things.” You nod and smile.

Sanji plops a few ice cubes into your glass. You raise yours.

“Cheers to having you back.” You say as you tip your glass in his direction.

Sanji hesitates, but eventually grabs his glass and clinked it with yours wordlessly. You both sip your drinks.

“If you don’t mind, darling, I have to finish preparing for dinner. You can stay if you’d like, but I can’t say I’m much of a conversationalist as of late…” Sanji throws a dish towel over his shoulder and continues his work on the vegetables.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to talk. I just like being around you.”

Sanji nods and you watch him cook in silence for the next hour. As you observed him, you notice the heavy grey bags under his eyes, it was now clear that he wasn’t sleeping. Every now and then he would reach up and rub at his neck, obviously sore and aching. You hated seeing him in such a state, but he made it clear he wasn’t ready to talk and you weren’t going to force it.

Once Sanji finishes the meal, you head out and gather the rest of the crew for dinner.

The meal was wonderful as always and your rowdy crew filled the room with raucous laughter and conversation. Once everyone had their fill of food and drink, they thanked Sanji and filed out of the dining room to entertain their own evening activities. Most of your crew mates had gone to bed, but since the night was clear and warm you decided to lay out on the deck and look for shooting stars with Chopper.

“You see those 5 big stars over there?” You say as you point into the distance.

“Yeah, I think so!” Chopper wiggles his ears.

“That constellation is called Pablo the Reindeer Warrior! He was a famous big strong reindeer who saved a city from destruction and became a hero!”

“Wow! Really?!” Chopper looks over at you.

“No, haha. I had you there!” You throw your head back and laugh.

“Aww, y/n no fair.” The little reindeer pouts.

“Sorry little buddy, it was too easy.”

After a few minutes go by you see a shooting star.

“Chopper did you see that!?” You turn to the side and see the tiny doctor fast asleep beside you. You smile and scoop him up in your arms and rise to your feet. You carry Chopper to his bed in the medical bay and tuck him in tightly. You yawn. It was late, but you wanted to see if Sanji was still doing dishes before you headed off to sleep.

Sure enough, as you enter the galley, Sanji’s slender figure was slumped over the sink finishing up the dishes.

“Hey San-“ You stop once you hear a sniffle.

You go silent and don’t move any further. Was he… crying?

“*sniff* y/n, it’s late.” Sanji chokes back something like a wet sob. “You should head to bed. *sniff*” Sanji says without turning around, right hand covering his face over the sink.

“Sanji… you’re… not okay…” You say softly as you approach him slowly. “And that’s okay… you just have to let someone help you… we’re a family and you don’t have to do anything alone…” You reach his trembling form and reach up to gingerly touch his shoulder.

Sanji jerks against your touch. You recoil your hand.

“No! Don’t you get it! I fucked up! I am fucked up!” Sanji removes his hand from his face, revealing red, wet eyes. “I put everyone in danger and it was all my fault…” Heavy tears spill over and cascade down his porcelain cheeks.

You immediately pull him into you and put your hand on the back of his head to push him into the crook of your neck. You wrap your other around around his shoulder to keep him close to your body. He cries harder.

“I can’t sleep, y/n… I keep having nightmares… It’s just too much…” Sanji breathes out into your skin, now wet from his tears. You stroke his hair.

“Sanji I understand why you might feel like that, but I promise you no one resents you for anything. You were doing what you thought would save us. We’re all just so happy to have you back.” You coo soothingly into his ear.

“You shouldn’t have come for me, I’m not worth it. I’m a disgusting monster…” Sanji sobs

You rub circles into his back.

“Hey, out of all the disgusting monsters we’ve fought over these years, I’m pretty sure you’re very low on the list.” You joke.

Sanji cries harder.

“Oh come on, you know I’m kidding. You’re not disgusting and you’re not a monster. Imagine Luffy hearing you say this? You know he wouldn’t stand for it.” You state firmly.

Sanji’s sobbing slows.

“Hey… why don’t you stay with me tonight?” You ask.

Sanji pulls back and looks in your eyes.

“What?” He questions.

“If you stay with me, you won’t be alone if you have a nightmare. You’ll feel better if you get a decent night’s sleep.” You wipe tears and snot from his princely face. “Please?” You persist.

“I… Ok…” Sanji resigns.

“Good, when you finish cleaning up, come to my room.” You push his hair back and retreat to your bedroom deep inside the ship.

You wash up and slip on a large clean shirt and boy short panties before you slide into bed. You sigh and stretch against your comfortable sheets.

*knock knock*

“Come in!” You holler from your bed. Sanji meekly peeks his head into your room and you smile and wave him in. He had cleaned up his face and combed his hair, his normal three piece suit swapped for grey sweats and a white tee.

“Hi!” You sit up in bed and pat the spot next to you in bed.

“A-are you sure you don’t want me to sleep on the loveseat?” Sanji asked as he pointed at the couch in the corner of your bedroom.

“Sleeping on a sofa isn’t going to make your quality of sleep any better. Shut up and get in here, cook.” You roll your eyes. Sanji delicately slides underneath your fluffy purple comforter and takes his place beside you.

“Good. Now get some sleep.” You reach up and turn out your bedside lamp. You settle yourself in, facing inwards curled on your side, how you always slept. You listen to Sanji’s nervous, heavy breathing for a few moments before he spoke.

“Y/n?”

“Yes?” You open your eyes and look up at him.

“Could I… hold you?” He asks with a shaky breath.

“Of course. Come here.” You pull Sanji’s head down to lay between your breasts and he wraps him arm around your waist. You throw your leg over his hip and begin stroking his hair. Sanji couldn’t help but nuzzle his nose deeper into the crease of your breasts through your shirt. You smirk. After a few minutes of innocent cuddling, you feel Sanji’s hand on your side slip up your shirt and caress your naked back. The next thing you notice is the very slight grinding up his hips up into you. He was so cute like this, you couldn’t help but want to let him play… Maybe this is what he needed?

“Here baby…” you quickly pull back and remove your shirt, breasts falling into Sanji’s face in the process. You lay back down and pull his head back to your tits. “Go ahead and suck, sweetheart…” You guide his lips to your erect nipple.

“Y/n yes…mmmpphh…” Sanji moans around your pert bud, continued to rut his hips into you. You arch your back and sigh at the sensation of his plush lips on your breast.

Sanji sucks hungrily at your tit as he brings his hand to knead and squeeze at your other one.

“Mmmmph.. thank you.. so perfect…” Sanji mutters as he pulls off your breast to give the other one the same attention, a sloppy string of saliva now connecting them. Minutes went by with Sanji just desperately suckling your chest, little whimpers leaving his lips every now and then…

“Feels so good, sweet boy, so good for me…” You coo as you tug at his hair.

“Hmmppph… fuck… thank you mommy….” Sanji groans into your chest.

You eyes snap open.

*Oooooh, so that’s what he’s into… you know what? That makes sense…”

It might not be something you were used to, but you were happy with providing Sanji with whatever he needed in this very moment. You pull him gently by his hair out of your breasts and look into his glassy eyes.

“Wanna be a good boy and fuck me, Sanji?”

“Gods, more than anything.” Sanji bolts upright and sheds himself of his shirt and sweats, long cock standing at attention. You snap out of your daze staring at Sanji’s large member and shimmy off your panties. You spread your legs wide to entice him to enter you already. Sanji hovers over you.

“Fuck me, Sanji.” You buck your hips up at him.

“I can’t… not yet…”

“What?” You sit up on your elbows.

“Gotta taste you first… smells so nice…” Sanji drops to his stomach between your legs and spreads your glistening lips with his fingers. “Fucking pretty…” Sanji sighs before diving into your cunt and attaching his lips to your clit. You yelp out in surprise and pleasure. Sanji makes out with your clit as his saliva and your slick dris down the rest of your sex, soaking your skin and the bed under you. You writhe and moan under his tongue as your feel him start to play with both of your holes with his wet thumb and forefinger. His finger teases your soaked pussy as his thumb applied pressure in circles around your tight ass, all as he slurped on your clit. You found yourself hurtling towards an explosive ending very quickly.

“Shit, Sanji!” You cry out and grip his hair as you cum violently all over Sanji’s face. The moan he let out as you released on him might have been as loud as your own, it was filthy and pornographic.

Sanji takes one last lick of your sex before coming back up to hover over you.

“You’re really fucking good at that.” You laugh and wrap your arms around his neck.

Sanji chuckles and leans down to give you a passionate kiss. The flavor of your orgasm on his lips was making your head spin.

“Wanna fuck you now…” Sanji whispers as he pulls back from you.

“You can fuck me baby, I wanna feel you…”

Sanji straddles one of your legs and pulls the other to wrap around his hip, turning you slightly on your side. He wastes no time in pushing his swollen cock into your seeping hole. Sanji stutters and gasps as he bottoms out inside of you, overwhelmed at the feeling of your warm walls sucking him in so tightly.

“Y/n… fuck…” Sanji pants and pulls out of you just slightly, admiring your slick coating his shaft already.

“So good baby, you stretch me out so good…” You purr as you run your hand up and down his chest.

“Shit…” Sanji pushes back in, all the way to his pelvis and grinds into you, making sure to press into your clit. He continues grinding his hips in circles against yours.

“Yes! Just like that, so fucking good baby!” You cry out and throw your head back, this particular position had Sanji able to stimulate all of your senses.

“A-ah- Fuck! You’re squeezing me so tight! A-are you gonna cum?” Sanji stutters as he tries to keep his pace while fucking into you.

“Yes honey, I’m gonna cum. Keep going, make mommy cum, baby- Ah!” You cry out and your dam bursts all over Sanji’s legs and pelvis.

“Mommy! Fuck, ah! Can’t hold it, gotta.. gotta fill you! Please!” Sanji shouts as his hips move more erratically.

In your post orgasm daze you whisper out a short “cum in me, please” and Sanji does just so with a loud groan, surely heard by everyone on the ship. You whimper as you feel him shooting rope after rope of thick white into your womb. Once his body stopped shaking on top of you, Sanji pushed himself off and flopped down next to you in bed.

“Y/n…” Sanji turns to you and grabs your cheek. “Thank you…”

You shake your head.

“Don’t thank me. I’d be doing this with your no matter what had happened. You mean so much to me…” You look up into Sanji’s blue eyes.

“I… I don’t deserve you…” Sanji looks away.

“Hey.” You tilt his chin up to you. “No more of that. I thought I made that very clear.” You giggle and place a quick kiss on his lips. Sanji smiles.

“I’ll never leave you again. I promise.”

#one piece #one piece anime #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanart #one piece live action #one piece netflix #one piece fandom #one piece smut #sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x reader #one piece sanji #vinsmoke sanji

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bookofthegear · 3 months

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You fear no boredom! You go south, around a bend, and past a dripping pipe, whereupon the passage dead-ends at the remains of an enormous rusted grate. The grate overlooks darkness, and some thirty feet below, a ripple of water.

“Please don’t jump,” says Jimmy.

Good Lord, of course you’re not going to jump. Diving into water when you don’t know how deep it is or what may be lurking under the surface is just a fancy way of saying that you don’t value having unbroken bones.

“What’s calling down there?” you ask.

“Frogs,” Jimmy explains. “There’s a large room below full of them. They’re one of the nicest things in this place. But there’s another way! You don’t have to climb! Or dive!”

“Did you say it was boring so I wouldn’t come here and jump?”

Jimmy clears his throat and seems to avoid making eye contact. Uh-huh. You really think Basic Dungeon Survival ought to be a required class at Wentworth, not an elective.

You return to the passageway and are just coming up to the large metal grate when you don’t hear something.

It’s not exactly a sound. It’s more like a sound stopping, one that you weren’t aware you were hearing. You are almost certain it’s no longer coming from the other side of the grille.

The ironwork is delicate but worked closely together. It’s dark behind the grille…

Actually, it’s too dark. You lift your lantern and it’s still pitch black back there.

Jimmy makes a distrustful noise, but you’re already sliding one of the small screwdrivers of your Swiss Army Knife into a gap in the metal. It goes in about an inch, then meets a slight resistance.

“There’s a black cloth back there,” you murmur to Jimmy. He flutters something about sometimes having the feeling of being watched, then hunches down into his feathers.

The grille is held up by dozens of Phillips head screws concealed in the pattern. You could, possibly, unscrew them. There’s no way you can lower something that heavy quietly, though. And if Jimmy’s right, there might be someone on the other side.

Mind you, if they’re watching right now, they probably won’t be after you drop a three hundred pound metal grille on them…

#choose your own adventure #t kingfisher #ursula vernon #book of the gear

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hunterrrs · 7 months

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photos from here, I NEED FOOTAGE OF THIS. also this article is a great read. he’s invited some families who lost their homes in the halifax fires to practice:

By the time you read this, Pittsburgh Penguins players will have munched on the pudding known as haggis, made from the livers, hearts and lungs of sheep. And learned how to shuck oysters, in all their slimy, gooey glory.

All courtesy of Sidney Crosby, the Pittsburgh captain, who brought team building to an entirely new level on Saturday. From the moment months ago that he learned the Penguins would be playing here, Crosby was stoked. A proud native of Cole Harbour, 10 miles from Halifax, the 36-year-old began planning out his transformation from NHL star to tour guide.

“I think just the feel of it, the people, and to see the excitement for the game,” Crosby said Friday. “And just to get around the city a little bit, those types of things.

“It’s somewhere that I’m really proud of, and I hope everyone enjoys themselves there.”

In order to do that, he set something up with a unique Maritime flavor. Welcome to “The Amazing Race: Crosby Edition.”

“When Sidney found out the team was coming here, he wanted to find a fun way to celebrate his hometown with his teammates and educate them on why it’s such a special place,” his father, Troy, said.

He seems to have done exactly that.

After a morning of golf Saturday, the unsuspecting Penguins set out on an “Amazing Race”-like scavenger-hunt competition that would take them through the streets of Cole Harbour, Dartmouth and downtown Halifax, and across Halifax Harbour on a ferry.

Under the format, the players were divided into teams. They were given instructions of where to go, what venues to visit and what tasks they were to do (e.g., eating haggis, shucking oysters), all while going up against the clock.

The instructions came on laminated cards featuring the Penguins logo and a “Welcome to Cole Harbour” greeting.

The message on one of the cards read, “Every player has to shuck two oysters and eat them or have a teammate eat them on their behalf. Careful with that knife, and don’t break any shells!”

Crosby enlisted the help of Paul Mason, one of his baseball and minor hockey coaches, to help plan the event. Mason was paramount in setting up the three Cole Harbour Stanley Cup celebrations in Crosby’s honor, and No. 87 didn’t hesitate when it came to the perfect person to set up this event.

“In organizing this, when he talked to me about it, he wants this entire weekend to be pretty special for the community, for his teammates, for everyone around him,” Mason said. “You can sense how much these few days mean to him. You could sense his anticipation for months.”

Mason said that even though Crosby is the host for his teammates this weekend, he’s going to try to win everything: golf, the scavenger hunt, the preseason game Monday, you name it.

“He’s competitive at everything, even as a little kid when I was coaching him,” Mason said. “And that hasn’t changed.

“When the NHL was shut down during COVID, his dad Troy and I played Sidney and one of his friends in a golf match. They should have won, but somehow we did. He didn’t accept that. He said it was two out of three. When we won the second one he said it was three out of five. We ended up playing seven of them. The seventh one was in December with snow on the ground. They won that one to take the series 4-3. Suddenly that was acceptable because they’d won.

“Once they’d finally won, it was over,” Mason said with a laugh.

During some of those summers, Greenwood has helped organize some of the offseason skates featuring Crosby, MacKinnon and Marchand at a local arena. The competitiveness gets intense at times, something Greenwood said helps all three drive each other.

“Yeah, they’re friends,” he said. “But when they start playing against each other at times, you’d never know it. They want to beat one another at any and all costs.

“You can see how that drive, that determination, that win-at-all-costs attitude rubs off on some of the younger guys.”

Count Drake Batherson as one of them. The 25-year-old Senators forward grew up in New Minas, 50 miles northwest of Halifax, and has been training during the offseason with Crosby, Marchand and MacKinnon since 2019. He calls those workouts “one of my favorite times of the year.”

As such, he’s looking forward to facing Crosby and the Penguins in Halifax on Monday.

“I've still got posters of the Penguins and Sid on my wall at my parents' house, so it's pretty fun now that me and Sid have built a relationship and we're buddies," Batherson said. "It's pretty cool looking back on it.”

It was a tough spring and summer for Nova Scotia.

In late May and early June, wildfires raged through the outskirts of Halifax and throughout the province. More than 16,000 people were forced to evacuate as a result, many eventually returning to find their homes were nothing more than heaps of smoldering ashes.

Less than two months later, the area was hit with record rainfall that caused historic flooding. Water did seep into Crosby’s home, though to nowhere near the extent of some others where people pretty much lost everything.

“The area has been through a lot,” he said. “But the great thing about some of these communities, and the area in general, is that everyone sticks together and everyone’s willing to help each other.

“I think when you’ve seen adverse times here over the years, you’ve seen people come together more and more. And I think we take a lot of pride in that here. The fact that people know they can depend on each other is huge. I think we’ve shown that time and time again, and there’s pride that comes with that.”

Crosby is doing his part to teach local kids exactly that.

On Sunday, the Penguins will hold a practice at Cole Harbour Place. Hundreds of children from the local minor hockey systems have been invited to attend and take part in a Q&A session with some Pittsburgh players and, with a select few kids getting to go on the ice with them.

Part of that group will be kids from minor hockey whose families lost their homes in the fires. Crosby specifically wanted them to attend, with Mason helping to make it happen. Given the trauma they and their families have gone through, it is Crosby’s way of trying to brighten up their lives, even if it’s just for one afternoon.

“That’s Sid, right?” Greenwood said. “He’s going to have an impact on these kids, both on the ice and off.”

He already has.

In 2009, Crosby established the Sidney Crosby Foundation, an organization that improves the lives of children who are sick or struggling. More recently, Crosby and several foundation board members created Nova Scotia Showdown T-shirts heading into the game Monday, with proceeds going to his foundation.

“He’s helping young kids who are going through hard times, and he’s being a role model for young hockey players in the province,” Mason said. “He’s going out of his way to show his Penguins a good time here, and he’s being a great ambassador for the community.”

Greenwood agrees.

“It’s a privilege,” he said, “to say you live in the same place as someone like that.”

#he is soooooooo #sidney crosby #pittsburgh penguins #nathan mackinnon #colorado avalanche #drake batherson #ottawa senators #ryan graves #po joseph #kris letang

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inoreuct · 5 months

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thinking about mermaid sanji and sailor zoro,,,

the sky is cloudless, the sun’s glimmering off the calm water, the crew’s relaxing on the deck as they’re sailing through a clear patch of ocean; by all accounts, it’s a perfect day. luffy hasn’t gotten them into another shenanigan as of yet and zoro’s chilling up in the crow’s nest, half asleep and lethargic with the heat— and then he swears he hears laughter. and it isn’t coming from the ship.

he’s up on his feet immediately and squinting against the glaring light, wondering for a second if he’s seeing a mirage or a trick of the heat shimmer, because they’re sailing by a large, flat rock.

a rock with merfolk on it.

zoro’s shimmying down the mast in record time, ropes lashing around him as his boots hit the deck and he tries not to look like he’s running to the taffrail to catch a better look. (look, he’s curious, alright? merfolk aren’t a total myth, but they aren’t a common sight either.)

(that, and he feels oddly like someone has cast out a fish hook and it’s lodged behind his sternum, tugging him forward and forward until his hands are pressed palm-flat to the railing and he’s leaning over the edge.)

he hears that laugh again, rich and bright, wide eyes snapping to the mer who made it. golden waves shimmer over a leanly muscled shoulder, curling around a sharp jaw to reveal the mer’s pale, slender throat as they tip an oyster back into their mouth. leaning back on his hands — zoro is rather sure he is a he now, as a deep, smooth voice fills his ears, though he’s had enough tongue-lashings from nami to know not to assume — and tossing his hair back affords zoro a glimpse of a beautiful smile and bright blue eyes, blue as the goddamn sky. or maybe the sea. or perhaps the bioluminescent algae that had speckled the walls of this one cave that he’d been to ages ago—

he’s getting sidetracked. some sound must escape him, because suddenly a gaze so keen he feels his skin prickle is on him and he gulps involuntarily. and then for some reason, he opens his mouth. “are you a siren?”

the man’s curly brows narrow in irritation. “are you dead yet?” he snarks, casting zoro a flat stare and sighing in annoyance when zoro just stares back blankly. “no, I’m not a damn siren. lucky for you, we happen to be their… less bloodthirsty cousins.”

“less bloodthirsty meaning…?”

he shares a bored, bemused look with the woman on her elbows beside him, a mer with the richest purple colouring zoro’s seen in his life and a one-shoulder top made of shiny black kelp. “meaning we wouldn’t drag you down to the depths and feast on your carcass, but keep running your mouth and I might just change my mind.”

the mer’s tail is folded elegantly to the side as he lounges, fan-like tail fin trailing in the water, turning his body so that he can look at zoro properly as he tips back another oyster like it’s his god-given right. a tiny voice at the back of zoro’s mind whispers that this isn’t a good idea, whatever this is. it goes ignored. flaxen hair flutters in a slight breeze, sticking to the man’s milky skin in darker spirals where the tips are wet, and zoro’s breath catches as he watches the mer smile with teeth that are just erring on the side of too sharp.

the words register all at once and zoro lurches back, away from the railing, away from golden curls and blue eyes and pale skin. “what did you do,” he grits, resisting the urge to press the heel of his hand into his chest where it suddenly aches.

the mer shrugs. “nothing.”

“bullshit.”

“what’s the matter, sailor? feeling charmed?” that laugh, again, and zoro feels his heart throb. he watches the other man cock his head, studying another oyster in his hand, tilting the shell back and forth as he sucks on his teeth. “we can’t thrall,” he says finally, posture slackening with a sigh and a pout that seems to say what a shame as he picks up a knife and spins it deftly, shucking the shell open with a neat flick of his wrist. “only sirens can do that. whatever you’re feeling, whatever it may be, hasn’t been borne of any influence of mine.”

the oyster goes down and somehow, that sentence makes zoro feel even worse. it’s like he’s had the air punched out of him; he’s rooted, eyes wide, breathing hard as the mer makes a noise of pleasant surprise and pulls a pearl from his mouth, shimmering between his elegant fingers under the sun.

(zoro doesn’t know it yet, but he’s doomed. he was doomed from the start.)

back under the ocean, sanji has a crisis. he doesn’t see humans. he doesn’t meet humans. he and robin had just gone up to enjoy the sunshine and then this— this— brute swings by, with his stupid green hair and his three earrings and his obscenely grimy used-to-be-white shirt— sanji is fuming and he doesn’t know why. swimming laps back and forth across his cave isn’t helping either.

"might you possibly have something to get off your mind?" robin asks lightly, the pages of her book drifting in the water.

sanji does an about-turn and holds in a screech with all his might, forcing himself to relax with an exhale. "i'm just fine, my dear. peachy keen."

"you're making grooves in the floor."

"i'm redecorating."

he rolls the pearl from earlier between his fingers, squeezing it tight until his hand aches. "are you a siren, he asks," he mutters mutinously, fins fluttering as he throws himself onto a seaweed bed with a scowl. "how could a human be so stupid? if we were sirens he'd have been a waterlogged ball of moss on the sea floor by that point— and that hair. he looks like— like—"

"algae?" robin supplies helpfully.

"algae! sentient plant life, that's what he is, a kelp bed. water lettuce. duckweed, even." oh, he's so mad. that marimo pisses him off. the whole lot of them had sailed away, good riddance, because sanji never wants to see any of them ever again. they probably all smelled horrid anyway.

the merman's been following them.

the crow's nest is zoro's territory for a reason; he's the crew's lookout, and he's damn good at his job. for the past few days he's been seeing flashes of a broad tail fin and twists of golden hair. (he very firmly tells himself that he's not just seeing what he wants to see, because one, he might have one remaining eye but his eyesight is still as sharp as he keeps his cutlass, thank you very much. and two, why the hell would he want to see that merman? he isn't about to win any awards for his own manners but that guy had been stuck up and prissy and just rude. he's only been allowed to tag along this far because he hasn't presented himself as an outright threat. zoro doesn't want to see him. nuh-uh.)

(zoro sees things in his dreams, too. ocean eyes and a sly smile. a pale torso, knife in hand and teeth too sharp. he reaches out to see if the other man's hair feels as soft as it looks and he always wakes before he finds out.)

rum doesn't help to loosen the tension that settles against his spine at night, like he's waiting for something. he doesn't know what. anticipation, maybe, would be a better word— but that has a slight positive connotation, and— no. this man might not be a siren, but zoro’s enough of a sailor to know that it sure as hell doesn’t mean he isn’t dangerous.

he can't afford to go off chasing pretty mermen when he has a crew to protect.

the ship docks for a few days at a barren island. sanji swims laps around the sandy coast and pretends that the thought of his the sailor being beyond his reach doesn't make an anxious itch ripple beneath his scales.

water splashes against the side of the boat, and zoro's at the railing in an instant whether he wants to be or not.

“hello, marimo.”

the merman treads water leisurely, golden hair swirling about his shoulders and gleaming in the faint lantern light. it's early enough after sunset that the stars aren't out yet and it's dark as hell. zoro squints.

a laugh echoes in his ears, light and melodious. already familiar. zoro tries to be mad about that. “a little more to your left, moron.”

“well, i can’t very well fuckin’ see, can i?” he scoffs, and bites back a gasp when the water starts glowing, what the fuck. his stupid heart stutters when he sees him, lit up with gentle blues and yellows from below, flickering with the push and pull of the tide and sweeps of that powerful tail. "hey."

"hello," the mer hums again, lashes long and wet enough that they catch the wavering light. "gonna tell me your name, sailor?"

zoro almost lets it slip. almost. but he bites his tongue as he feels a chill run up the back of his neck; sure enough, a glance over his shoulder confirms that nami is glaring at him. don't do anything stupid, her gaze says, and he turns away with a shudder. their navigator is a threat in her own right. "no."

"okay. marimo it is."

"you— that is insulting," he hisses, because it is. he is roronoa zoro. he came from nothing and made a life for himself out of it. he's one of the best swordsmen on the damn seas and he's part of the best crew he's ever known, and he's been reduced to, what? a floating ball of moss?

"it's accurate," the other man corrects with a smirk. "unless you tell me what else to call you."

zoro fumes, fingertips digging into the taffrail. he's sure his nails are gouging scratches in the wood. "no."

"marimo."

"shut up."

"mosshead."

"shut up!"

"algae-brained, kelp-haired, water cabbage-headed—"

"zoro!"

the mer finally stops, lashes fluttering as something passes over his face.

"my name," he ekes out, "is zoro." nami swears somewhere behind him.

the merman's lips part around the syllables of the word, before he draws in a breath and grins, smug. "okay, marimo."

"wh—?!" zoro throws his hands up in exasperation, scofffing. "you bastard!"

"i asked for your name. never said i would use it."

"you're a piece of shit, blondie."

"call me that again and i'll show you how hard i can bite," the mer sneers with all his teeth on show, blue eyes lit up furious, turning away as he prepares to dive and—

"wait!" zoro yells before he can stop himself, and he curses under his breath. ah, fuck it. already got one foot in it anyway. "what's your name?"

"...oh, darling," the mer sighs, half-amused and airy, his voice slipping away. "you're gonna have to work a little harder for that."

it feels like hours later when zoro steps back with a shaky sigh. the merman reminds him of a strong brandy he’d had what feels like lifetimes ago, burnt caramel and warm sugar and smoke with enough hidden bite to take you by surprise, to sink its teeth into you three shots down. enough to intoxicate if you weren’t careful.

he yelps when nami slaps him across the back of the head, faking a lunge at her with bared teeth even as he rubs a hand over his aching scalp with a huff. her nagging about being more careful barely registers. his hair's getting long; maybe he needs a trim.

(that little voice in the back of his head is wary. hesitant. but now it's asking what if.)

the ship docks again. this island is teeming with life, thriving, lush with rich green foliage and thick forestation— and beautiful women who all seem to find zoro the height of masculine appeal, apparently. sanji curls himself into a nook in the coral reef and lets his fins trail in the water, the corner of his mouth ticking up a little when a baby clownfish comes to nibble curiously at his fingertip. he's not sulking. he's not. that would be fucking embarrassing for so many reasons and he refuses to think about even one of them.

it's the first time that he starts to feel a little stupid. it had been all fun and games, in the beginning when he'd upped and left on a whim; curiosity and intrigue and the good old urge to stick his fingers in all the cracks this human had until sanji understood every part of him, laid out in the sand like the skeleton of a great sea beast.

but now he's so far away from home, aimlessly following a ship— no, not even a ship. following one person on a ship for no real reason at all.

the clownfish ducks beneath his hand, and sanji cups it carefully in his palm. "you're lucky you don't have to deal with romance yet," he tells it sagely before gently shooing it out of his hiding spot. the water above ripples. it's dark again; the crew must have returned to their boat for the night. sanji sighs and unfurls his tail.

it honestly seems like blind optimism at this point, but he really hopes he's not being played for a fool.

zoro's there when he surfaces, peering over the railing and backlit by the lanterns. sanji focuses and brings out his bioluminescence until the little cove they're in is filled with coloured light. "marimo."

"swirly brow," zoro greets in return.

sanji raises one said swirly eyebrow. "that's new."

"i've got more. blondie, of course. curly head. fishboy—"

"fishboy?!" he squawks, enraged. "fuck you!"

"you wish."

"more like the ladies did," sanji scoffs, and immediately wants to try drowning himself.

zoro frowns. "the hell you talking 'bout, curls?"

the burst of bitterness at the back of his throat is just enough to take him by surprise and loosen his tongue. "they were hanging off your arm like—" mm. nope. he's not gonna go there.

the swordsman's eyes widen like he's just realised something, and sanji does not like that at all. "you're jealous."

"no."

"you are!"

"fuck you," he spits, gills flaring. "i am not." he has no reason to be jealous. they are nothing. this— there is nothing between them.

zoro just grins. "catch."

a white thing drops downwards and sanji darts forward on instinct to let it fall into his cupped palms. "what, s'this supposed to be a present for me, marimo?"

"it's— yeah."

he opens his mouth to reply, before he realises what exactly it is he's holding.

the water lotus fills his hands, its soft white petals edged in pale pink, velvety against his fingertips. something catches in his throat and he dips beneath the water to submerge his gills, carefully holding the flower aloft. his heart squeezes.

the waves lap at the bridge of his nose, hiding half his face as he watches zoro rub at the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy. zoro isn't shy. sanji knows this much. he is loud and unabashed and unashamed with everything, with how he lives, with how he talks, with how he loves his crew and everything they entail.

but he looks almost— he's blushing, just a little, red across the tips of his ears as his gaze darts away, looking very much like he's mad at himself. "nami said it means strength and resilience, or something." the breath he huffs is harsh as he scratches at his nape. "i don't know, it's stupid, curly, i just—"

"sanji."

"what?"

"sanji. my name."

sanji doesn't want to know what he looks like as he rises out of the water to cup the flower to his collar. dumb, probably. rightfully so, because all of this is a very dumb decision and it's probably going to end in shambles with his heart broken into pieces in the silt but zoro— he looks up, floating on his back, and zoro's already looking at him with something that could be wonder, if sanji dared to name it.

"where did you get this?" he murmurs, tail fin creating large ripples as he swims a circle, holding the lotus like it's fragile.

"there was a pond full of them on the island. thought you'd like it."

"you don't know what i like." it comes out breathy. his hair melts against his shoulders as he tries to push himself closer, closer, across the space between them, like a fool. "you don't even know me."

and yet, he startles back when zoro jumps the railing, splashing feet-first into the water boots and all and shaking his head like a dog when he resurfaces. sanji shrieks and shields the lotus with his body, everything else momentarily forgotten as he whacks zoro with his tail just hard enough to send the sailor back underwater with a sputtered laugh. "you fucking brute!"

"i want to."

"that made no sense—"

"i don't know you, but i want to." zoro treads closer, and sanji's light ripples off his skin. his eyes are grey. warm granite and the inside of an oyster shell. "will you let me?"

sanji wants. there is nothing between them, but he wants there to be. he wants so hard it hurts. it feels like he's holding his heart in his hands and not a flower. it's the only way to explain how he's suddenly aching, hollow, in the face of something that isn't even a goddamn confession but feels too much like one. there is a flower in his hands and he wants.

“why?”

“dunno.” he gets a shrug, blunt and earnest as ever even as zoro’s mouth twists up at the edge. “maybe i’m charmed.”

he swallows hard, his mouth dry, and he doesn't want to say it but he has to. "if this is some sick thing about me being a mer—"

"wh—? no!" zoro blurts, and he looks so fucking horrified at that moment that it settles something in sanji's stomach instantly. "god, fuck, no. no. it's not like that. i swear on my life."

there are reasons why merfolk don't interact with humans. sanji grew up with the stories. he's seen the skeletons on the sea floor, mangled with the hunting tools of man, incomplete remains of his kin tossed away to their deaths, unable to swim or save themselves— still a better fate than the ones who never returned. the ocean is gentle after the burn of her salt; her waves are familiar, and her children are raised in their push and pull. captivity, at the hands of men for whatever reason, is never so kind.

he inhales sharply as callused hands cup his.

"i'm sorry," zoro says softly, rushed and maybe a little desperate, throat bobbing as his eyes dart across sanji's face. "i'm sorry. i didn't think of that at all."

"good," he finds himself replying as he looks down. "that means it didn't cross your mind."

a muscle ticks in zoro's jaw. "that's fucking sick, curls."

"i know." sanji's tone is matter-of-fact. "but it's what we have to deal with, sometimes." he deflates with a soft huff at the expression on the other man's face, looking away. "if you start saying shit like i'll protect you or whatever, i'm gonna smack you. i can handle myself."

zoro sighs through his nose, slowly, and his hands tighten around sanji's. "i know you can. i've watched you hunt. doesn't mean i can't be mad about it."

his eyebrows go up. "you saw me hunting?"

"mhm," the swordsman hums. "you're strong. fast. resourceful, too."

sanji preens. he knows he is, knows he’s one of, if not the best, but hearing it from zoro is another thing entirely.

"...also, my captain's been begging me to get you to fish for us because we're all crap at it."

that startles a laugh out of him, and he smiles so wide so quick that his cheeks ache. "that can be negotiated."

up this close, it's easy to see that zoro's hair is shorter than it was before, shorn short at the back and blunt enough that it just had to be freshly cut. the possibility of it being for him does something funny to his chest. the dark green strands are spiky, sticking up everywhere now that they're wet, and sanji wants so badly to touch.

he looks down at the flower in their hands, and he doesn't.

"this can't survive in saltwater," he murmurs instead, carefully putting his lotus into zoro's scarred palms. "take care of it for me."

he watches zoro trudge back to shore, one hand with the flower held above his head. he yells, "it better still be alive the next time i come check, marimo!" and he doesn't bother waiting for an answer. he knows zoro heard him.

sanji's gonna play this slow. he's gonna play this smart. and if zoro fucks up, well— he’s on friendly terms with a particular shiver of great whites.

zoro does not, in fact, fuck up. but now he’s constantly being given shit about his pretty merman boyfriend and as much as he pretends he hates it, he really doesn’t. luffy takes one look and declares that sanji’s crew now, zoro, you can’t hog him! dinners are now seafood more often then not, mussels and clams and all sorts of fish, even lobster when sanji finds out it’s nami’s birthday, and franky engineers some sort of transportable bathtub to get him on board.

(sanji brings robin around and franky falls all over himself making transportable bathtub 2.0, but that’s not the point.)

“bioluminescence, right? am i saying that right?” zoro asks, spinning this way and that as he tries to get a good look at sanji’s glowing tail under the water, eyes wide.

“mhm.” the mer lifts his tail fin out of the water, pulling himself closer so zoro can hold both of them up seeing as the pool they’re in is shallow enough to stand in. zoro’s hands twitch around nervously until sanji reaches out and grabs his wrist, pressing his palm flat to wet scales, and his chest aches at the look on zoro’s face.

the cave they’re in is small enough for every little sound to echo. sanji’s tail drips rhythmically, punctuated by the staggered breath zoro sucks in as he hauls sanji closer with an arm low over his stomach. careful fingers trace over the glowing patterns on his tail, fading upwards into his torso, and zoro slides a palm flat against sanji’s spine to lift him up as he presses their foreheads together.

“beautiful,” he breathes, reverent. the reflections from the water dance off his wet skin, and his eyes are mother-of-pearl.

sanji wants to touch, and so he does. he winds his fingers into zoro’s hair and pulls him down and kisses him, tastes salt and rum and the promise of blood when his teeth catch and zoro doesn’t shy from the bite. for the first time in a long time he is safe enough to let himself drift; his tail drapes itself over zoro’s side like a elaborate feather fan, and he giggles at the mental comparison.

he feels zoro smile at his laughter. feels calluses and gentle hands as zoro carries him back out to sea. tastes love when zoro pulls him in for one last kiss before saying goodbye for the night.

it starts with more flowers. then jewellery, intricate metalwork that would be hard to come by under the sea, fishnet cords and crystal pendants and pretty trinket rings, then daggers, silver hairpins with edges sharp enough to slice bone and a particularly beautiful watered-steel knife in a sheath of butter-soft leather. sanji cannot help but feel like he’s being courted, which makes no sense, because zoro knows nothing about merfolk courting traditions.

and then they talk as zoro braids shells into his hair the way perona taught him to (“you didn’t tell me you had a sister?!” “she just never came up!” “what do you mean she just never came up, marimo, what the fuck! this is important?!”) and sanji finds out zoro talked to robin about it, the sneaky bastard.

a tail doesn’t stop him from tackling zoro to the sand to kiss the crap out of him, braids unfinished and hair wound through zoro’s fingers. his heart feels fit to burst when zoro turns to ensure he takes the brunt of the fall because they both know how much sanji hates getting sand stuck in his scales.

the first time sanji gets hurt, zoro goes rather frantic.

it’s barely a scratch, just a slice near the base of his tail courtesy of a rock he hadn’t been able to avoid while hunting, but zoro bodily hauls him back to the ship between bouts of very concerned yelling and yanks off the black bandana always on his arm, scrubs it clean in hot water for good measure before wrapping up his wound, all while making sure no parts of sanji were drying out in the tub.

“marimo, i am fine,” sanji stresses for the twentieth time, shifting up to cup zoro’s face and sighing in resignation as zoro just shakes his head again.

“i don’t care,” the swordsman announces, throwing his hands up like deal with it. “i don’t care. no more hunting until this is completely healed.”

“it is a scratch. a scratch.”

“i don’t give a shit. you’re staying with me for the next few days.”

sanji groans and grumbles and bitches about it, and when zoro bickers right back it just riles him up even more.

(he stays put. he lets zoro scoop him into his lap with unnecessary care. he leans into the kisses zoro presses to his temple and he feels like crying because he is grateful. always.)

slavers attack the ship. sanji may not be a siren, but that does not mean he isn’t dangerous. he has his tail, and his knives, and his love for his crew. this is his crew.

he drags those slavers into the ocean and drowns them one by one.

now, sanji’s friend ivankov is a literal sea witch— so when they toss sanji an amulet and a wink on his birthday, sanji already knows it’s gonna be good.

the amulet gives him fucking legs.

only while he wears it, of course, but when he stumbles out of the surf like a newborn fawn zoro nearly chokes in shock. they spend the day falling over each other laughing as sanji tries to walk. he eats shit more times than he can counts and gets enough sand in his mouth for a lifetime.

later, there is a blanket beneath them and the moon above them and the endless ocean, shimmering under the light as zoro gathers his hair out of his face and kisses him so softly it hurts.

“beautiful,” zoro breathes. he preaches it like the truth. swears it like a promise.

their hands fit, calluses against calluses as zoro thumbs over the tiny patch of scales on sanji’s wrist, iridescent yellow-blue. their fingers lace in a motion they’ve done hundreds of times and still it never feels different than the first.

sanji lays back, and all he sees are stars.

#did yall catch that metaphor of the lotus being sanji's heart #and him literally handing it to zoro and saying “take care of it for me”#BECAUSE I DIDN'T #I ONLY REGISTERED IT AT THE END WHEN I WAS THINKING BACK TO IT #accidental literary device slay #LEMME KNOW IF YALL WANT HCS OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT bcs there is Lore this just got too long for it #one piece #zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zoro x sanji #one piece zosan #one piece sanji #sanji #one piece zoro #zoro #ino writes #zosan au

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