#zoro learns french fic

[bidisastersanji]

Was thinking about French gendered terms and Zoro trying to suss out if Sanji’s into men and I had some thoughts and oops now i wrote a thing so here you go:

In the early days Zoro drives himself nuts trying to figure out if Sanji bats for his team too or not. He listens in intently whenever the conversation steers the cook towards talk of his past dalliances, but, just his luck, none of the words used indicate their gender. And there ain’t no fucking way in hell he’s asking him or anyone on the crew directly, lest they immediately understand how bad he has it for the stupid cook.

He bides his time, surely someday he’ll slip up and mention something about the people he’s slept with, right? And sure enough one day, at a feast, a drunken Usopp starts asking what people’s types are. His face still schooled into a nonchalant, neutral expression, he does his best to hide how desperately he waits for Sanji to speak up about his type, only to once again be met with more general terms about people- someone with a kind heart, dependable, an equal… he’s so concentrated on trying to pick out any gendered terms he doesn’t notice the weird look Nami throws his way at each new descriptor in Sanji’s list of desirable traits.

He’s always known Sanji speaks French, finding it endearing whenever the cook curses (even at him), whenever he goes into small little rants to himself, or the face he makes when he can only think of a word in French, rapidly snapping his fingers until it comes back to him. But it’s only when they get to a town where Sanji starts speaking to a vendor excitedly about his produce that he realizes just how much this thing, this endearing thing that’s always been there, truly affects him, and his face burns at how different the cook’s voice sounds when he actually speaks it, how enchantingly low and throaty the foreign syllables ring in his ears.

Attached to living another day, he decides that stealing a book from Robin is a bad idea, and resigns himself to ask her directly for a favour. He swallows his pride and asks if she can lend him a French learning book and a dictionary, curious as to whether he can learn it a bit, and understand whatever the hell Sanji keeps cursing and muttering about around him, and what kinds of insults he’s been throwing his way. With her ever mysterious smile plastered on her face, a chain of Robin’s arms retrieve two books from her library and hand them to him. “Do come to me if you have any questions, Mr. Swordsman. My French is pretty good if I do say so myself.”

He’s out of the room, red as a beet, before she even finishes that sentence.

Learning the curse words comes to him unsurprisingly quickly given how often he hears a litany of « putain de merde », « fait chier! » and « enfoiré! » spilling from the blonde’s distracting mouth.

He’s very happily surprised when he learns that French is apparently a heavily gendered language- and that he can glean someone’s gender just from whether the adjectives applied to the subject are masculine or feminine. Now if the stars aligned and the cook would talk about his love life in French…

Zoro starts by going through the basic first chapters, taking great pains to hide and quickly dissimulate it in his haramaki anytime someone walks in on him- especially the witch. It definitely changes his usual routine on his watch in the crows nest, he muses to himself.

Weeks, months pass, and he advances further in the lessons, his vocabulary slowly growing, while he often goes to his dictionary for the more… colorful insults Sanji throws his way. He never says a word of French himself, not knowing how he could even justify knowing any without looking suspicious, and pretty sure his pronunciation would be way off anyways. But he starts to really enjoy it, being able to understand even a tenth of the things Sanji thinks he can say without the crew (save Robin) understanding.

And then Saobaody happens. And now he doesn't have time to think about learning French, not if he wants to get strong enough. Not if he wants to protect his crew.

He's at the table with Mihawk and Perona when his mentor asks for the salt (Passez moi le sel, s'il vous plait), and he executes himself without thinking. A quiet settles over the room and he looks up to see those intense red eyes boring into him, unnerving as ever.

"You speak French?"

"Not really," he grumbles, not wanting more excuses to think of the shitty cook, and his shitty cooking, and his stupid curly brow.

"Then you will. Consider this a natural continuation of my trying to beat some manners into your brutish mind."

Two years later, and he can't wait for dartbrow to show up. His pronunciation may still be shit, but he can't wait to use his newfound skill to his advantage.

With his now solidified grasp of the language, he slowly begins to understand that what he at first though was a mistake on his part- that he must’ve missed a part of a sentence, or mixed up some words- was not an error at all. It turns out, some of the French things that Sanji yells at him aren’t insults at all.

In fact… they’re sometimes downright complimentary.

And that's definitely a problem for Zoro, who now not only needs to keep pretending that he doesn’t know what Sanji is saying, but needs to pretend he doesn’t understand it when Sanji screams at him that he has a “stupidly pretty face” or that his “tits are even bigger than Nami’s and how is that even fair” . He doesn't know what to make of it.

And then one day… the stars align.

It’s another post battle party, and the cook has been drinking a bit more than usual, a tightly gripped glass of wine in his left hand, a cigarette in his right. Zoro is nursing his very own barrel of Ale when he hears the conversation turn to more gossipy topics, as it usually does the further into the night they are.

“Chopper was really into that nurse on Zou, wasn’t he?” Usopp starts to poke fun at the crew’s youngest member, laughing as the reindeer turns all red and tries to deny it.

“I mean it makes sense that she’d be his type! Right Nami?”

Nami nods at him, grinning wickedly. “Yeah, not all of us can be into rich little blonde girls can we?”

“You’re right, some of us are into rich blue-haired princesses,” he shoots back.

"At least I had the balls to do something about it before I left her island-"

Zoro is already tuning them out when Sanji sits down next to Robin just a few feet away, across from him and the campfire, his tongue loosened from a few too many refills and unconsciously reverting to his native tongue.

"Ils ont de la chance, ces deux là." he gestures to Usopp and Nami. (They're lucky, these two.)

Robin smiles at the cook, wordlessly prompting him to continue his thoughts.

"Qu'est ce que je donnerais pour pouvoir avoir quelque chose de plus qu'un coup d'un soir." Sanji sighs wistfully, lighting his cigarette. (What I wouldn't give to have something more than a one night stand.")

Robin chuckles. "Ne sont-ils pas satisfaisants?" (Are they not satisfying?)

At this point Zoro has tuned everything out, intensely focused on hearing what the blonde has to say, and not at all feeling a small churn of jealousy in his stomach for whoever shared Sanji's bed. His heart initially skips a beat at the plural masculine pronoun ('ils') used by Robin before remembering its actual neutrality in this context, as it's referring to the ""one night stands", a masculine word. Damnit. French is so dumb.

"Tu sais bien que je ne dirais jamais de mal à propos des belles demoiselles qui ont bien voulu m'accorder ne serait-ce qu'un baiser ou une étreinte. J'ai de la chance rien que d'avoir pu exister en leur présence."

(You very well know I'd never say a bad word about any of the beautiful ladies who've been kind enough to give me even a kiss or an embrace. I'm lucky just to have existed in their presence.)

Zoro feels his heart drop, a heavy feeling settling in his stomach. He's always known the pervert cook has been into women. Why was this confirmation hitting him the way it was? His eye darts up at his two crewmates, confirming that only Robin has noticed his eavesdropping. She opens her mouth to say something but Sanji continues, the glow of the flames dancing against his flushed skin beautifully.

"Et dans mon état normal tu sais que, par respect pour les sensibilités d'une dame, je ne te divulge pas beaucoup de détails sur ceux qui font l'affaire le temps d'une nuit. "

(And in my normal state you know that, out of respect for a lady's sensibilities, I don't divulge many details about those who do the trick for a night.)

Ceux. That's a masculine word for "those", isn't it? Zoro shakily takes another sip of his drink.

The archeologist's smile widens. "Oh, ne te fait pas de soucis pour mes sensibilités. Je brûle d'envie d'en savoir plus, et ne m'épargne pas les détails..."

(Oh, please don't worry about my sensibilities. I'm burning to know more, and don't spare me the details...)

"Je ne suis que ton humble serviteur...si ça peut te faire plaisir" (I'm but your humble servant…if it pleases you). Sanji's cheeks seem a tad more flushed than before. "En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants...c'est qu'il ne sont jamais... assez."

(It's not that they're not satisfying…it's that they're never...enough.)

"Ah? Et que recherches tu? Qu'est ce qui serait..."assez"?"

(Ah? And what are you looking for? What would be… "enough"?)

The cook exhales another cloud of smoke, and nervously looks around. His eyes settle on Zoro, and indecision flits across his eyes for a second before continuing. Zoro can feel his gaze, can almost make out the deliciously unfocused expression on the blonde's face in his peripheral vision as he continues speaking French. His heart feels like it might beat out of his ribcage.

"Lui." (Him.)

Zoro forgets how to breathe.

Part 2 up now , and part 3 part 4

#zoro x sanji #zosan #zosan fic #this was SUPPOSED TO BE A LITTLE TEXT POST #and then #AND THEN THIS HAPPENED #should I continue this #let me know in the tags #sanji x zoro #i can say french is dumb because i am #i have so many more thoughts about french speaking sanji #share yours with me pleaaaseee #zoro learns French #zoro learns french fic

[oksurethisismyname]

In continuance of my “zoro learns French” drabble:

Sanji has been busy ever since breakfast. Normally he has time to prep a lot more for lunch but today? It’s like everyone is asking him for something. Chopper had gum stuck in his fur (turns out it was a spit ball from luffy) , Franky asked for help tailoring a pair of pants (finally!), Nami kept asking him questions about different dessert possibilities from tangerines, Robin was wondering about the origin of every variety of tea he has on board, and he just hadn’t had time to get back into the galley.

Finally, it’s an hour till lunch and he tactfully exits the conversation with Robin. As he walks up to the galley door he hears someone messing around in HIS galley. He kicks in the door, ready to find Luffy with his head stuck in the fridge but is stopped dead in his tracks. There, in his kitchen, is Zoro.

Zoro in his apron.

Zoro in his apron that says “kiss the cook”

Zoro in his apron that says “kiss the cook,” flour on his face, scrubbing some dishes that weren’t dirty when Sanji left this kitchen this morning, and a sheepish look on his face that doesn’t look quite natural on him. Almost cute? No. Yes? A little.

“Mosshead, you have 5 seconds to explain what you’re doing to my kitchen before I kick you into the ocean. The only reason you’re still standing there is because it looks like you’re cleaning up whatever mess you made.”

Zoro sets a newly clean skillet on the drying rack, suddenly getting a look of determination, “I made you a croak miser.”

“What the fuck is a croak miser?”

Zoro huffs like he’s both exasperated by his own actions and Sanjis lack of understanding. Rather than clarifying what a “croak miser” is, Zoro walks to the oven and pulls out a little plate. He’s blocking Sanjis view but whatever he just pulled out must have been in the oven just to stay warm because the oven isn’t even on.

Without showing what’s in his hand, Zoro gruffly asks “sit?”

This is getting weird. Sanji, shocked into obedience, sits at the table waiting to see where this is going.

In Zoros hands is a plate with a passable Croque Monsieur. Is that actually béchamel sauce? Wait did Zoro MAKE béchamel from scratch? There’s not too much or too little ham, the cheese looks gooey, wow, this could be good.

As Zoro sets the plate in front of him, a bit of pink creeping into his cheeks. “You were talking about the best comfort foods with Robin last week and I just thought… well you do a lot and… whatever eat the shitty sandwhich, asshole. Bone apple teeth or whatever.”

With that, Zoro turns on his heals and walks out.

What the fuck was that all about?

#one piece #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #zosan #I guess this is less about my French skills and more about my wanting to use the expression bone apple teeth #bone apple teeth #little fic #zoro learning french

[braimin]

This is super random but one of my favorite things in fics is when Zeff like hates Zoro. Like obviously he doesn’t actually hate him and as long and Sanjis happy he’s happy and he knows Zoro makes him happy, but I still think the idea of him like constantly staring daggers Into Zoro is so funny.

Also another one of my favorites is Usopp walking in at the worst time for them, like Usopp has seen some horrors, I know he is so traumatized and it kills me every time.

Anyway this is just me yapping cuz I don’t have anyone to tell this to sorry😭

Darling, the whole reason I started posting on here in the first place is because I have no friends who will listen to me yap, so no need to apologize for being a fellow yapper. ✨

Zeff has mad beef with Zoro, not just because he's dating his son, but also because he's so reckless. And when Zoro gets hurt is makes Sanji upset. Zoro cannot be allowed to live if he makes Zeff's son upset. But him dying would make Sanji cry so Zeff just has to settle for quietly fuming and being an asshole when his boy isn't looking.

When Zeff first moved to the All Blue to be with Sanji, Zoro got to see how much of a daddy's boy he is. Like they yell and argue and even have physical fights in the kitchen all the time, but also when they cook together Sanji hangs off him like a child, he's always one step behind him and following him everywhere. Sanji could ask the old man to do anything and he'd do it. He's woken Zeff up at three am before and asked him to make soup because he didn't feel good and Zeff immediately was down in the kitchen making it. Zoro wants to tease him about it, but when he brings it up Zeff will loom over him with a knife and be like 'And what about it, scrub.'

Zoro learns very quickly where Sanji gets his pettiness from because Zeff will disagree with anything Zoro says on principle alone, it does not matter what he's saying. He purposely only speaks french to Sanji for a really long time because he thinks Zoro doesn't deserve to know what they're talking about. He refused to cook any japanese dishes for him for a while too, just to be a dick. Zoro has lived with Sanji for a long time so he's used to the petty behavior. Eventually Zeff chills out and they bond over nagging Sanji into taking breaks and taking care of himself. And they start having drinks and fishing nights every week so they can shit talk about the annoying things Sanji has done lately. Sanji just has to deal with it because they're getting along, and he doesn't wanna ruin that.

Usopp having to live through The Horrors of being Sanji's bestie is a tragedy. Like he's one of the ones that spends the most time at Sanji's side during the day. (Because Luffy isn't allowed in the kitchen when he's not eating, Robin and Chopper spend a lot of time in the library studying, and everyone else prefers to be out on deck doing their own things.) Sometimes he'll come to sit in the kitchen and find Zoro and Sanji making out, or hear Zoro try to coerce the cook into a storage closet. He's had to witness them be so gross together.

But the true Horrors aren't always the shit he has to see, no, it's also the shit he has to hear Sanji talk about. Because that jerk has no filter and no shame. So they'll be sitting in silence for a while and then the cook will turn to him and give him the most unhinged, and vulgar description of what him and his boyfriend got up to the night before; and then ends it with 'So yeah, now my leg hurts, maybe I sprained something?'. Usopp has tried to tell him to stop, that he does not want to hear the nitty gritty of how these freaks get down, but Sanji just ignores him and keeps going. Sometimes he'll look to Usopp and be like 'Ya'know, lately I've been wanting to try-' and then break down one of his depraved fantasies about the swordsman, and Usopp wishes Chopper could do something to make him forget the last eight minutes of his life.

He tells Usopp everything, not just the sexual shit, he tells him about all the 'cute' things Zoro has said, shows him the little trinkets and gifts the man has brought him, he talks about what his future plans are with his pet moss. And Usopp is happy for his friends, yeah, but he's also a lonely guy with no girlfriend, so these bastards can go to hell with all their cutesy romance bullshit.

#zosan #one piece #sanji #zoro #Usopp #red leg zeff #every now and then Zoro has to stop himself from fist fighting an old man #Usopp thinks he deserves financial compensation for the emotional trauma they have given him. #Sanji is just happy to be here

[veryace-ficrecs]

Do you have any zosan fic recs?

Of course I do! Here are some

Zosan Fic Recs

all the hidden love, beneath by Giosele - Rated M

His eyes flicker towards the more discernible scars, the deep ones with smooth taut skin. The ones his hands have traced hundreds of times. Then Sanji spots the fresh, poorly stitched wound dancing across Zoro’s flank. The shoddy quality screams Mosshead. “Moron.” Sanji crumples his cigarette and flattens it underfoot in one smooth motion. “Idiot. You stupid, reckless swordsman. Stay here, I’ll get Chopper.” -- The crew is a wreck after Enies' Lobby. Despite being a wreck himself, Sanji tries to take care of them all.

you got time, you're on the mend, babe by steeringwheeleater - Rated T

“He doesn't trust me, and he obviously doesn’t want the captain to know.” “He doesn’t want me to know, either.” “He knows that you know, Cook.” “What the hell are you talking about?” Sanji’s shoulders creep up again. “… Sorry.” Robin adjusts her stance from one leg to the other; her nearest analog to rolling her eyes. “You’ve been too gentle with him to be subtle, Cook. It’s like I said: you’ve been defending him to the others.”

Kept Down, Helped Up by Gay_as_fuck - Rated T

Zoro's near death in Wano strains the crew, the latest in a long line of risk taking. A very stressed Nami solves this problem by throwing Sanji at it.

In Tandem by lemon_drop48 - Rated M

"I wanted to make you laugh." The honest admission felt dumb the second it came out of his mouth. It's too breathy, he's still out of breath from a distinct lack of oxygen recently. And there's no way the cook understands - Sanji throws back his head in laughter. For a moment there isn't even fear that he's laughing at him. Sanji's laugh is beautiful, and seeing that huge smile spread across his cheeks in genuine mirth felt like it was priceless.

revelations by cloversome - Rated T

It's been three days since Zoro blacked out. When he finally awakens, he finds his spirit is detached from his still unconscious body.

Demon's Deception by Maik_Morrow - Rated T

Summary

Having read an article about the ‘Demon of the East’ years prior to joining the Strawhat crew, Sanji was confused. He didn't understand how the man he heard would be a ruthless monster could be so different. All he saw was a caring, kind and gentle man. Until he understood the reason some time later.

It’s In His Kiss by Hazel_Athena - Rated G

They reach the island of Bise early in the new year.

unintended consequence by itsmylifekay - Rated T

Imagine person A making person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off. A group of marines charge, Zoro slices through them, and in that instant Sanji feels his own eyes grow wide. Because there, on the arm now outstretched towards him, steel glinting in hand, is the stupid bracelet he’d given Zoro. The bastard is actually wearing it.

Language of love by averybidisaster - Rated E

It irked Zoro that upon meeting him, a whirlwind of limbs, blue eyes and a cigarette dangling from his cocky smile, something in his gut flip-flopped, instead of the usual, clear feeling he usually got when he met men, like a natural yes/no answer. Obviously, the lovesick fool greatly admired women, ceaselessly shouting his love for them at any opportunity. But he had met many a man like that who still sought to warm his bed- and Sanji was... well, Sanji . His simple existence riles Zoro up like no other. And why does it matter to him what the shitty cook’s preferences are anyways? OR Zoro secretely learns French to understand Sanji. Because that’s obviously the easiest way to learn if the cook likes men.

Did You Know Marimo Came In Pink? by wiillowwriites - Rated T

After some some accidental tickling turns into something very intentional, Sanji’s the first of the two to notice that Zoro seems to be enjoying himself. Zoro isn’t quite sure what to do with the realization, but Sanji has an idea.

waiting by tinyjet7 - Rated G

zoro watches sanji hand out treats to everyone but him.

Ink by BleuReivers - Rated T

He’d gotten the first one for no reason other than he’d simply wanted it. Had ever since he’d first laid eyes on one of the cook’s ink during his Baratie days. It had taken him a while to actually get it and for a while he’d been convinced he never would. But, as the years went on and he crossed paths with more and more people who bore elaborate and, honestly, beautiful tattoos, the desire grew until he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

ham and rice by hailure - Rated G

"I'll get that bastard gets all the food he wants and then more. You don't need to forfeit your protein serving for that." "Oh, now I get it." Zoro's face turned mischievious, his nose bridge tinted with red now that the alcohol was briefly kicking in. "You're worried about me." After their victory in Wano, Sanji is not amused that Zoro just can't seem to eat properly.

Here’s To Us by TextlessNovel - Rated T

In which sharing a drink can tear down walls in a way that Sanji and Zoro never expected.

#veryace asks #one piece fanfiction #one piece #zosan #one piece zosan #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #strawhat pirates #straw hat crew #ao3 fic recs #fanfic recs #ao3

[twirlyeyebrows]

Crimson Cursive (Zoro X Sanji)

♡ Tags: Slowburn, Fluff, Angst, Dairy/Journal, Pining, Happy Ending

♡ Content Warnings: N/A

♡ Word/Chapter Count: 18k words, 19/19 chapters

♡ Summary: Sanji keeps a journal to write in when he feels overwhelmed. His unwanted crush on a certain swordsman happens to be one of these overwhelming things. He swears to never let anyone find the book, but what if the very person he’s writing about does?

♡ a/n: i wrote this fic a while ago (originally published feb. 4th) so if some of the writing is a little off, i apologize. i hope you enjoy anyways :)

♡ ao3 link!

♡ Prologue ♡

Sanji always had a habit of writing down his emotions. It was something he learned to do in necessary times when he couldn't talk to anyone. Sadly enough, this had created a bad habit of keeping all of his emotions within his heart. Although it was difficult for him to bring his deepest emotions out through words, he discovered writing to be very beneficial. He always had a small secret journal in his room at Baratie he'd use as an outlet. He continued this practice even now, sailing on a ship through multiple oceans. This was a hobby he'd never tell anyone he partook in. He could only imagine the laughter from the rest of his crew if they read his writing. Cooking came more naturally to him anyways, he was a great chef and could boast about it if given the opportunity but he was far from being anywhere close to a writer. So naturally, he vowed to never let a single soul look at his thoughts out on paper. Especially recently.

♡ Chapter One ♡

Sanji groaned as left the comfort of his bed, knowing he needed to get up before everyone else to make sure breakfast was done by the time everyone started complaining. He didn't bother changing into his presentable clothes, no one was awake to see him in his pajamas. He figured he'd change after everything was prepared but before he started plating each dish. With this thought, he yawned and forced himself out of his room and into the kitchen.

Immediately when walking into the kitchen he felt himself get in a good mood. This really was his “happy place” as much as he thought it was slightly childish to admit. He always started by washing his hands, of course. Followed by tying his classic baby pink apron around himself. Yes, he was in his pajamas but he still didn't want them getting messy. He began to take various ingredients out; eggs, sausage, toast, fruit, and many other things he needed for today's spread. They had just gotten back from a particularly rough island and this was their first day back on the water in a while. Sanji sighed. Couldn't they just once stop at an island where no one was trying to kill them? He chuckled at the thought, knowing it's far from a possibility as he began prepping a pan to cook the sausage in. He wanted today’s breakfast to be one the crew would be extra lively to receive. He knew that anything he put out on the table was bound to be appreciated after the hellfire that was their last adventure, but he decided to go above and beyond.

The hour went by quickly as everything began to come together. All he had to do was put powder sugar on the french toast, assemble the parfaits, whip up a quick fruit juice, and make everything look as neat as possible on the dining table. He walked to the cupboard where the sugars were held, stopping dead in his tracks when he heard footsteps that weren't his own in the room. He immediately turned around in shock. No one's usually ever up this early except for him. The shock amplified when he realized he was making direct eye contact with Zoro of all people.

“Morning.” The swordsman said, looking exhausted. Sanji felt his heartbeat get faster in an instant. He'd never admit it but recently he's been having some unwelcomed (*cough* romantic *cough*) thoughts about the man standing in front of him. He tried not to make that painfully obvious, although he didn't think he'd have trouble with that considering Zoro looked as if he was still half asleep. “Morning, moss brain.” Sanji replied, praying he didn't sound too excited to see him. “Why are you up so early?” He added. Zoro scratched his head and yawned “Night watch.” He said monotonously. Sanji’s eyes widened. “You took the night watch?! After you almost died not even a full day ago? Did you at least ask Chopper if you-” Sanji almost went on but he realized he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't want to make it seem like he cared about the swordsman as much as he truly did. “You know what, never mind. I guess what's done is done.” He said, trying to sound carefree. “Just don't push yourself, we don't need you in bandages anymore than you have to be. I'll be on watch tonight.” He expected Zoro to refuse the offer but instead, he just nodded and said “Thanks.”. “Jesus, he is out of it.” Sanji thought to himself. The swordsman seemed to snap out of his daze a little bit as he opened his mouth to speak. “Anyways, I came in here because it smelled like cooking and I'm starving. I didn't have any intentions of trying to piss you off if that's what you expected.” He paused and actually saw what Sanji had been doing all morning. “Goddamn, you really are making a whole banquet.” He said, taking in the sheer amount of food the cook was able to make in the short amount of time. “Yeah, well, I thought everyone needed it after everything. I still have a couple more things to finish but you can take some if you want.” Sanji said with a glowing smile. Zoro chuckled tiredly “Nah it's okay, I wouldn't wanna ruin your perfect display. I'll just wait.” He mumbled, slightly sarcastically. And with that, Zoro propped his swords up and sat down next to them, falling asleep as soon as his head hit the wall behind him.

Sanji blushed furiously as he turned back to the cupboard, placing his hands on the edge of the counter and gripping until his knuckles were white. He was in way over his head. He didn't even really know how it had happened, he just knew what was happening...which was him falling for the man he constantly picked fights with. He took a deep breath in and let it out slowly. “Get it together,” He whispered, “Save it for the journal.” He snapped at himself, determined to finish the last few breakfast necessities.

As he completed putting a strawberry on top of the last parfait, he finally realized that he was still in his pajamas. He thought he might scream at the top of his lungs. How much of an idiot did Zoro think he was now? He was probably holding back laughter that whole time. Sanji brought his hands to his face and rubbed up and down in frustration. “Too late to do anything about it now.” He quietly said to himself, trying to be reassuring. He decided that he would just set the table now and change once everything was in place, there wasn't any point in changing immediately now that he'd already been seen.

As he laid out large plates of various breakfast meats, bowls of fruits, and champagne glasses full of fruit juice, he couldn't help but take a few glances towards the wall where the swordsman was resting. Every time he did, he felt his stomach dip to the floor. What he would give to go over there and sit down next to him, putting his head on his shoulder-. He stopped mid-thought, once again attempting to shoo the thoughts away. This was proven to be unsuccessful as after setting down the final parfait, he couldn't take his eyes off the drowsy man slumped against the wall.

He couldn't help himself. He tried to pull his gaze away but everything in his body was telling him to keep looking, to keep taking in every detail he was too shy to see when the swordsman was awake. He began smiling to himself without even realizing it. He felt his heart ache as he stared at Zoro. Anyone else would just see a slightly annoying, worn-out, green-haired idiot sleeping against a wall instead of at least sitting in a chair, but Sanji could only see bliss. His heart broke knowing he'd never be able to sleep beside him like he wanted to so badly, that he'd never be able to trace over the battle scars on his skin, that he'd never be able to run his hands through the grassy patch that was his hair. He sighed and dropped his head down, staring at the ground. “This is absolutely ridiculous. I can't believe I actually feel this way over that dumbass.” He said in his mind. He brought his head back up and forced his gaze away from the other man, thanking whatever higher power there was that Zoro hadn't woken up as Sanji was blatantly gawking. He untied his apron and hung it back up on the hook, about to leave to get dressed. As he walked out the door of the kitchen, he stopped to take one more look at Zoro. He hoped with all his being he imagined it, but he could've sworn he saw the man’s eyes open ever so slightly, only to shut once more with a minuscule smile. Sanji quickly swung his head out from the door frame, making sure to be completely out of Zoro’s field of vision in case he did open his eyes. Sanji clutched his chest. He thought his stomach might fall through the floor if he wasn't careful. He sighed. “God, I am so fucked.”

♡ Chapter Two ♡

The cook hurried to his room, nearly slamming the door as he got in. He sat on his bed and shoved his hand under the pillow, grabbing the small black notebook and red pen that lived there. His mind was far from getting dressed as he quickly scribbled down any thoughts he had about the swordsman. He did throw in how proud he was of today’s breakfast and how he wished Zeff could've been there to see it. Other than that though, the two and a half pages he filled were drowned in red cursive writing all about Zoro. He looked at the pages, not knowing how to feel.

He did feel more relaxed as he always did after he got his feelings out into the book, but he also felt tense. He felt wrong for crushing on the moss brain, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him but it still felt like he was crossing some line he shouldn't have. He skimmed through the words on the paper, blushing when he relived the moment that had just transpired. He put one hand on his cheek and felt how hot his face was getting. He sighed at how painfully lovestruck he was, and how there was nothing he could do about it.

Suddenly he heard movement from elsewhere on the ship and assumed the others had finally gotten up. “Thank God.” He said out loud as he stood up from the bed. Serving a damn good breakfast was the perfect thing to distract him from his hopeless love life. He walked over to his closet and grabbed a teal button up and a pair of slacks. He put them on and threw a suit jacket over it, buttoning each button delicately while looking in the mirror. He patted his hair down and decided he was presentable enough to see the rest of the crew. As he shoved the notebook and pen back under his pillow, he hoped that Zoro had forgotten the sight of him in his pajamas. He took one last deep breath, coaching himself in his head on how not to act like a dumbass in front of Zoro, and swiftly walked out of his room and headed back to the kitchen.

♡ Chapter Three ♡

The feast was a perfect success. Everyone enjoyed themselves. They all drooled over the food Sanji had prepared that morning, flattering him with compliments about the different dishes over and over again. He acted humble and stated it only tasted so good because they hadn't had a proper meal in ages but his ego was secretly through the roof. Chopper drank so many fruit juices he looked like a rubber ball, but not compared to Luffy of course who had turned into quite literally a rubber ball from all the meat he stuffed himself with. Robin had eaten one of the yogurt parfaits savoringly and Sanji made sure to comment on how appreciative he was that she recognized fine cuisine. He also didn't let Nami go without attention, flirting with her every time she spoke. The number of times he claimed she was sweeter than anything on the table should've been illegal.

Usually, the flirting came from a place of blind puppy love and desire, he never thought through the compliments he showered them with, he just felt that he should. Those words were never lies though; he always meant what he said. Nami and Robin were truly gorgeous after all and he'd be an extremely lucky man if any of his pickup lines had ever landed. Things have felt different recently though, and he's pretty sure they've noticed. His flirting tactics have been a lot more calm and respectful. He's been saying fewer things about their physical appearances and more things about their personalities or characteristics. He can't even remember the last time his nose bled. Sanji felt like at this point he was flirting with the women because it's what he'd been doing his entire time on the ship, it felt like all eyes would be on him if he suddenly stopped. He noticed Nami and Robin catching glances between each other, talking with their eyes instead of their mouths. The thought of them talking about him and his abnormally reeled-in behavior crossed his mind, he just prayed they didn't ask about it. The real tough part about the mini banquet was none other than Zoro.

It wasn't like he had done anything to make the setting bad, it was simply him being there that made it difficult for Sanji to function. All the energy he had been putting into flattering the women of their crew for so long was now eating away at him, trying to get him to say the same sweet nothings to the swordsman. Sanji bit his tongue every time he looked his way to not let the desperate romantic side of him win. He didn't want to but he ended up taking note of every little thing Zoro had done throughout the repast. He watched as he disobeyed all basic table manners; putting his arms on the table, reaching for things instead of asking, even scarfing down the yogurt parfait with a fork- who eats yogurt with a fork? Despite this being a nightmare for the chef, he couldn't bring himself to be mad. He couldn't even bring himself to be annoyed. He wanted to tell him off and make him behave properly at the table but every time he tried his words caught in his throat. He also noticed that his eyes were brighter and his smile was genuine when he was around everyone. Usually, Zoro had a plastered “I'm smiling because it's the nice thing to do” smile on his face when he was around others, but with everyone gathered together and sharing good food and quality time, Sanji guessed he couldn't help but feel like he was spending time with family. His heart skipped a beat every time Zoro would glance his way. Anytime he asked for another juice (just to give to Chopper) Sanji would immediately tend to the request. At one point when he called the cook, asking if he could get more meat because Luffy took his, he wasted no time heating a pan to cook more. Zoro had looked caught off guard at each one of these times. He had never seen Sanji so willing to comply with what he was asking. He suspected it was because he didn't want to ruin the good time everyone was having and he'd be back to his normal sarcastic self in no time. Sanji, catching glimpses of Zoro’s confusion and nervous laughter, always turned his head away or would strike up a conversation with someone else. He wanted there to be zero consideration in Zoro’s mind that he might like him in a "more than friends" way. He just hoped he had done a good enough job.

♡ Chapter Four ♡

When night rolled around he kept his promise of taking the night watch. As everyone else went to bed, he stomped down to his room to grab a blanket and a pillow. If he was going to be awake all night in the cold, he was at least going to try to be comfortable. He watched as one by one the crew separated and said their goodnights. He noticed Zoro looking particularly exhausted and suddenly felt alright about taking the night watch. If he could take at least one thing off that man’s plate to help him out, he would in a heartbeat. Everyone dispersed especially quickly and Sanji was left alone in the hall outside his room. He let out a deep sigh (he found himself doing this a lot lately) and opened the door, walking to the wardrobe to grab his pajamas. He took his day clothes off and put them in the laundry bin. Everyone claimed that clothes didn't need to be washed after only one wear and it was only a waste of soap but Sanji disagreed. Considering the number of times he's been stranded on an island, kidnapped, lost his luggage, or anything else that forced him to wear the same clothes for weeks on end, he was going to be spotless every chance he got. After putting his freshly dried pajamas on he darted to his bed to grab what he needed. As he dragged the blanket off and lifted up his pillow he noticed the objects that were lying beneath. He groaned in anguish, knowing that he should write about breakfast but ultimately he didn't want to. The event played out in his head and he felt his stomach start to twist in knots. He angrily grabbed the notebook and pen, knowing this was for his own sanity, and headed up to the crow’s nest.

The wood of the nest was cold and unwelcoming. He placed the pillow against the curve and sat down, leaning his back up against it to try to save himself some back pain. He shivered as he covered himself in the blanket, clutching it close to his chest to try to heat himself up faster. He looked out into the empty sea, looking for any sign of disruption. Nothing. There wasn't a single thing occurring besides the flow of the waves as far as Sanji could see. He took a breath in and tilted his head up towards the stars. He exhaled, noticing how he could see his breath. The fog reminded him that he didn't have a cigarette to smoke. He instinctively reached his hand down to his pocket but quickly remembered that his pajamas don't have pockets, nor a pack of cigarettes. “Well that's just what I wanted. This is going to be a great night.” He said in a defeated tone. Still looking up at the night sky he began to look at the stars. He didn't look for any constellations or try to point out planets or anything. He simply just observed. He watched as a shooting star shot past the dark purple sky in a split second. He couldn't help but laugh. “Oh that's just hilarious, isn't it? What, is this the universe telling me to wish for the shitty moss head to be here right now?” He said up to the sky. At that moment his head snapped down, tearing his eyes away from the stars. He had been living in a few blissful minutes of a “Zoro-free” mind, but now he was back to normal. He looked down at the notebook and pen lying against the wood and made a face of disdain. Even though he had no choice but to come to terms with his feelings, he still didn't like them. No amount of giddiness he felt towards Zoro could stop him from forever being annoyed at himself. He exhaled once more, no longer being phased by the cold, and picked up the notebook.

Sanji spent an entire hour writing about Zoro. And he spent the rest of his night watch shift thinking about Zoro. He had filled so much of the journal up that he didn't even dare count how many pages it was. The side of his hand was smothered in red ink that he didn't bother to try to wipe off. His mind was just as flooded as the book. Every single thing he tried to think about to get his mind off the man was somehow a road back to him. It's like his thoughts were all rivers and streams that lead back to one huge ocean. Everything about this night has made it apparent to Sanji that this wasn't just a normal crush, it never had been. It was getting worse and soon it would become a problem for the others. There's no way they wouldn't start to notice if he kept up the way he had been. That night Sanji came to the conclusion that he needed to distance himself from the swordsman. He didn't want to, it was probably the last thing on earth he wanted to do, but at least no one else would ever catch on to what was going on if he was never around him. He curled his knees to his chest and put his head down on top of them. He thought about how this could be good for him too. There was always a chance that the distance could cause his feelings to disappear. He let out a desperate laugh.

“Like I could ever be that lucky.”

♡ Chapter Five ♡

Sanji got down from the crow’s nest that morning feeling completely awake. He hadn't gotten a moment of sleep (obviously since that was his job) but he didn't feel tired whatsoever. There was no way he'd have been able to sleep even if he was in his bed. He stepped down onto the deck of the ship and rubbed his head. It was finally morning and he was itching to start cooking just to try and get his mind off of all of this. If it weren't for his loyalty to not leave the crow’s nest, he probably would've been furiously cooking all night.

Today’s breakfast wasn't as impressive as yesterday’s but it was still a sight to be proud of. Sanji had used up the last of the sausage yesterday so today’s meat was bacon- which Luffy promptly snatched all of. Everyone sat around the table once again, noshing away on the array of pancakes, eggs, quiche, and everything else Sanji had to offer. The scene was a lot quieter than the day before but he didn't mind, it was a lot easier to focus on the food without everyone talking over each other. He didn't bother sitting down with everyone, he'd much rather just keep making more food.

He worried about being questioned by the others but he realized it would be easy enough to play off. He could always say he was making extra for Luffy since he seemed to never get full, or he could lie that he was preparing for future dishes, any excuse would work as long as he didn't tell the truth. He gulped as he started slicing up ham for the omelet he just started working on. Thinking about the truth had had his stomach in a painful knot all night, and it wasn't going away. He hadn't caught one glance at Zoro all morning. It was painful in so many ways, but all he could do was keep his head down and hope it would be worth it.

“Why don't you come and join us, Sanji? You've been working non stop all morning.” Robin asked swiftly. Sanji felt his throat start to burn as he tried to think of the best thing to say while still making sure not to face the crew at the table. “You caught me right in the middle of something, Robin-chan, but if it's you who wants my company, how could I refuse?” As soon as that phrase left his mouth, Sanji was cursing himself in his mind. His only goal was to keep himself away from that table but in trying to act like his normal flirtatious self he screwed that up. He heard Robin hum in agreement and Chopper giggle excitedly. At least they were excited to have him join the company but personally, he couldn't be more terrified. As much as it would hurt his pride as a chef, he wished for nothing more than the bubbling omelet to burst into flames. Then everyone would be forced out of the kitchen so he could once again be alone with his thoughts.

Sanji’s hands shook as he garnished the egg dish, plating it lovingly and picking it up as he tried to gather any inner courage he had. He turned around and began to walk to the table, keeping his eyes on the plate in his hand, pretending to silently critique it before setting it down. He stood at the foot of the table, next to where Robin was seated. He watched as Luffy instantly reached for the plate, nearly breaking it with his brute force. At the same time, he regretfully watched as Zoro’s arm also reached out, playing a game of tug of war with the ceramic plate. “Let go! I'm hungry!” Luffy yelled at Zoro. “So am I!” Zoro snarled back. Sanji wanted to stop them, a breakable plate versus these two was bound to end in disaster. As much as he wanted to say something, he couldn't. He couldn't get a single word out of his mouth as he watched Zoro’s hand willingly let go of the plate followed immediately by Luffy’s victory laugh. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. All that mattered is that the plate had remained intact. Sanji then started to backtrack and wished the plate had broken as he realized now he actually had to sit down at the table. If he was picking up ceramic shards right now he wouldn't have to risk having to talk to Zoro.

It wasn't until this moment that Sanji looked at everyone for the first time all morning. Nobody looked like they thought anything was wrong, so that was a good sign. Sanji had a quick moment of calm. He thought that maybe this could be okay. Nobody noticed he was acting weird and everyone seemed to be having a good time. All he had to do was ignore Zoro and engage in conversation with everyone else at the table. That all seemed at least manageable until Robin spawned a pair of hands to pull out a chair at the table for Sanji. The chair that just so happened to be the only open chair at the table. The chair that was right across from Zoro. Sanji had to hold back a noise of disbelief. “Just my goddamn luck.” He thought to himself, bracing himself for what was about to happen. He sat down in the chair and made direct eye contact with the table, not daring to look up.

Throughout the rest of the meal, no one really attempted to talk to him. It was overall a pretty quiet gathering anyways but he found it odd that he'd been invited to the table only to be ignored. He didn't think anything of it until he felt an impact on the top of his head. He immediately looked towards the source of the punch, only to be met with Luffy retracting his rubbery arm back. “What's wrong with you?” Luffy asked in the most unbothered, insensitive tone. Classic Luffy. Sanji was too caught off guard to move, he couldn't even move his head down towards the table. This caused him to see everyone’s reactions to Luffy's blatant question. They all stared at him with wide eyes. The entire crew’s faces read “Why would you say that? We were trying to be discreet!”. It was only then that Sanji realized why nobody had been talking to him. They had probably been exchanging knowing looks all morning about his odd behavior. And right as he thought he had things under control, no less. He had nearly forgotten Luffy even asked a question until he heard the same man’s voice go “Eh?”. He had to lie on the spot, which is something he had gotten fairly good at but recently he was starting to lose the skill. “Sorry, I'm just tired from being on watch all night.” Is what he came up with. Luckily it wasn't a complete lie. He had been on the night watch, but he wasn't tired. “Oh. Okay!” Luffy replied, going back to the omelet he had acquired. That seemed to be a good enough answer for the rubber man but everyone else’s expressions (except for maybe Zoro’s who he didn't dare look at) seemed to say that they weren't buying it. He couldn't blame them. Sanji was the one who went on night watch most often and it was never something that left him like this afterwards. He was just grateful they let him get away with the fib this time.

♡ Chapter Six ♡

No one asked about lunch that day. Sanji only realized it was past their normal lunchtime when he glanced at the clock on a whim. He quickly figured out why he hadn't heard any complaints about the late meal. He wasn't an idiot. It was obvious that everyone on the ship had caught on to the fact that something was going on with him. He put his money on Robin being the one who told everyone not to bother him. As much as he appreciated the space, this was far from an ideal situation.

He quickly whipped up a platter of sandwiches, filling multiple of each with what he knew would be liked by everyone. He tried to put on a normal and presentable face as he walked outside the kitchen door. Immediately he broke character as he saw the scene laid out in front of him.

Every member of the crew was huddled close to one another in an oddly shaped circle. It looked as if they were all having a debate. Except this debate was clearly meant to be a secret. Sanji’s face turned bright red as his mind jumped to a conclusion he was almost positive was true. They had to have been talking about him. The way they all leaned back and waved at him as he walked out of the door like nothing was happening made it evident. Sanji stiffly walked over to the group, not knowing how to even begin phrasing a sentence. There was no point in trying to act like nothing was wrong if everyone was already talking about it behind his back. He might as well do them a favor and confirm their suspicions. He set down the sandwich platter a few feet away from the gathering of the crew. “Sorry I'm late.” He managed to say. He felt like he was suffocating. Everything about his tone of voice was painful to listen to. He watched as a few of their faces turned worried, looking away before he could look at Zoro. He awkwardly walked away from the group, only raising a hand in response to their shy gratitude for the lunch. He didn't go back into the kitchen. Instead, he went to his room where he stayed the rest of the night.

♡ Chapter Seven ♡

He assumed it was about to get dark when he heard a knock on his door. He didn't bother replying. Whoever was out there could either say what they needed to or wait for the next time Sanji got the courage to show his face again. “Oi, Cook.” He heard Zoro's voice through the door. He instantly sat up in his bed, thankful he wasn't able to be seen. “I don't know what's got you all fucked up but I hope you snap out of it soon.” There was a pause. Sanji debated saying something but his thoughts were cut off by the man outside the room continuing to speak. “I'm taking the night watch tonight since you clearly have stuff to work out. ‘M sure you realized but you left your pillow and shit in the nest so come get it if you want it, I'm not gonna bring it to you.” Zoro waited a few seconds for a response but was met with silence. Sanji then heard his harsh footsteps growing farther away from him and knew Zoro hadn't planned on being patient.

Sanji put his face in his palms and groaned. God he wished all of this would go away. He didn't want to have feelings for Zoro, he didn't ask for this. He barely even knew why it was happening. His emotions were getting the best of him and he couldn't stop it. It was unlike him to lock himself up in his room and sulk for hours, but something about these feelings had changed him. He didn't even care that he was laying on an empty mattress with just a sheet on it. He was too deep in the rabbit hole of his mind that his bedding was essentially the last thing he was worried about. He felt like he was going to cry but he couldn't. No tears would fall no matter how much it felt like they should. Sanji had never felt this way before and it was clear he didn't know how to handle it. The best he could manage was laying on his stomach and shoving his head into the mattress, wishing over and over again that the feelings would go away.

♡ Chapter Eight ♡

Zoro makes his way out of the hallway, onto the deck of the ship, and up to the crow’s nest. Unlike Sanji, Zoro doesn't change before nighttime, he simply stays in his clothes from the day prior. He realized that maybe wasn't the best choice as the bitter wind hit him on his bare arms and he shivered. “Christ it's cold out here, worse than the other day.” He says to no one. He looks down beside him and sees the pillow and blanket left by Sanji from his shift last night. He makes a sour face as he thinks about using someone else’s blanket, especially the cook’s. He can't pinpoint why but it feels extra invasive knowing it's Sanji’s. That man was always so picky with everything he owned Zoro didn't want to taint anything at the risk of him going off. Zoro stopped mid-thought, realizing what was going through his mind. “Why the fuck do I care about the cook’s stuff? It's not like he won't find something else to yell at me for anyways.” He says, feeling slightly insecure for an unknown reason. He shoves down the weird feelings and grabs the blanket that's beside him, draping it over his lap and waiting for it to start getting warm. As he does this he hears two noises followed by him getting the blanket situated. One sounded like a “clink” and the other, a dull “thud”. He peered over, naturally confused about whatever it was that just fell out of the blanket and onto the wood. It was hard to tell what the objects were in the dark so he leaned over and picked them both up with one hand. Upon closer inspection, he realized that it was a small black notebook and a red pen that was almost out of ink.

Confused, he set down the pen and held the journal with both hands, flipping open the first page. It would've been hard to see in the dark if Zoro’s eyes hadn't gotten well adjusted to the night after so many battles in the darkness. He mumbled the words out loud to himself. “Sanji’s. Do not proceed. Please.” He scoffed loudly. “What the fuck is this?” He laughed. He didn't want to be invasive but at the same time, he was awfully curious about what was in this book. He thought that it was a sketchbook. I mean, he seemed like the type of guy that would be into that right? Zoro’s curiosity got the best of him as he put all the pages between his thumb and flipped the pages quickly. In the few seconds it took him to skim through, he immediately realized that it was not a sketchbook. In fact, there was nothing in this small book but words all written in red ink. He laughed to himself again. “No fucking way. A diary?” He chuckled harder, “Of course that Love Cook would have a diary, that's so fitting.” He was in awe. He couldn't believe he considered the possibility of it being for drawing when this made so much more sense. He was always spewing shitty poetry at Robin or Nami or any woman he came in contact with. Of course, he'd never thought about Curly keeping a journal of his thoughts but now that Zoro knew, he wouldn't be able to forget. Now that he knew what was inside, he wanted details. He knew it was wrong but what harm would it do to just peek at one page real quick? He couldn't be mad if he never found out, right? With this debatable justification in mind, he flipped to a random page in the middle of the book and instantly felt his stomach drop to the floor.

The first thing that catches Zoro's eye is his own name on the page, multiple times. He rolls his eyes before he actually takes in the words, expecting to read nothing but bad things about himself. “This is just the humbling experience I needed, can't wait for this.” He sighs sarcastically. He braced himself for all the nasty things the cook had to say about him, but what he found happened to be the exact opposite.

Zoro skimmed over the page once and couldn't believe what he was seeing. He thought maybe he didn't pay enough attention to the words on the page but as he examined them more closely, he could only find good things being written about himself. Not just good things- flattering things. Zoro started to mumble bits and pieces of the excerpts out loud as he tried to register this as something that was happening.

“When he remembers small details about things I’ve said or done it makes me feel so happy…”

“The way he never hesitates on anything is riveting…”

“When he genuinely laughs it makes me feel like everything bad that's happening doesn't matter…”

Zoro tore his eyes from off the page and closed the book. He tried to rationalize why someone would write something like that about him. More importantly, why Sanji of all people would write that about him. He coughed, his body also not knowing how to react to what he just read. “Well maybe he was just writing nice things about all of us.” He thought. “People do that right? When they write shit they're grateful for?” He continued in his mind. He was grasping at threads trying to understand what all this meant. He knew that there was only one real way to find out. He flipped to the very first page.

He read the first 6 pages and everything seemed pretty normal. I mean, he definitely learned some new things about his crewmate, that's for sure. For starters, he writes his emotions down when they get too overwhelming. Another thing is that apparently, he's a great ballroom dancer and sometimes misses the nights he'd stay up teaching himself in his tiny room at Baratie. Zoro smiled without realizing it. The thought of the cook losing sleep to learn how to dance all by himself was….cute. Zoro continued, getting more invested in all the little things of Sanji’s life. The angel on his shoulder was yelling at him to stop invading other people’s privacy but the devil on his other shoulder was louder. He continued to skim and scan through moments of sorrow and triumph written delicately in crimson cursive. Zoro found himself rooting for the chef as he turned the small pages. He got excited whenever he read about the details of a specific fight that the man had won. He felt queasy whenever he read words of self-deprecation. Zoro felt like he was reading a fantasy book, how he had accidentally stumbled across this window into Sanji’s life was beyond him. He was just beginning to get a grasp on the book when he noticed the font had abruptly changed. It was still cursive. Still very impressively nice cursive at that. Although now it was rushed. It seemed like it had been written in panic. Zoro took a deep breath, realizing this was probably something traumatic that had happened in Sanji’s life if it altered with his normal writing style this much. He blinked hard and shook his head. “I don't care that much about that bastard, why am I thinking like this?” He said, finally hearing his own thoughts. He pulled himself together and connected back with the page in front of him. As he started to read, the pieces finally began coming together.

“I think I might have a crush on Zoro. Crush might also be an understatement. I don't know what's happening but I hate it.”

Zoro exhaled quickly as if he was watching a reality TV show. His eyes went over that sentence five times before he was able to process what it said. “Oh my god.” Is all he could choke out. He skimmed the rest of the page and flipped to the next.

“Jesus Christ, I don't know what to do. I feel like I lose all common sense when I'm around him. Just looking at him makes me fumble my words. How is this happening???? What did I do to deserve this??”

He laughed at the amount of question marks the cook used, it really captured how distressed he was. After appreciating the comedy of that phrase, he was hit by what it was actually saying. Reading this book felt like one punch followed by another, followed by another and it was seemingly never-ending. Yet he endured it page by page, each time getting more shocked by what he was witnessing.

“It's really bad now. All I can think about is him. Everytime I try to get my mind off of him I end up back at square one.”

“I've noticed he conveys most of his emotions with his eyes, I love seeing them change throughout the day.”

“Today I accused him of finishing a bottle of wine just so I had an excuse to talk to him. He grabbed me by my tie and called me an idiot for thinking he drank such shitty alcohol. I hope I didn't blush too much.”

Every word he read had him more and more on the edge of his seat. He felt like he was on the world’s highest roller coaster and he was reaching the peak. This still didn't feel real whatsoever, Zoro was reading with a blank mind, just trying to absorb the words from the page. Luckily, he had all the rest of his night to process. Hopefully, he wouldn't get a surprise visit from the Marines or a hungry sea king.

“God I'm such an idiot. Zoro came in while I was making breakfast and saw me in my stupid pajamas. I hope he doesn't remember. I think I have a good chance because he's currently asleep against the wall.”

Zoro definitely remembered the pajamas.

“Speaking of that, he might have seen me staring at him while he was asleep. It could've been my imagination. I really hope it was my imagination.”

He chuckled as he recalled this exact moment. He had caught the cook looking at him but he didn't think anything of it. When it happened he considered calling him out or making fun of him, but he was too exhausted to try. Zoro thanked his past self for choosing to stay quiet.

“Just had the worst moment of my life. Probably the best breakfast ever though. The table was wonderfully vibrant and I made everything to perfection. Wish Zeff were here to see that, those flavors would've given that damn geezer a heart attack.”

Zoro didn’t notice his facial expression grow soft. His eyelids shut halfway and a small smile crept onto his face. “That food was amazing.” Zoro said out loud, remembering all the dishes.

“I wish he didn't make me act like a dumbass. I can't talk to him without feeling like I'm gonna be sick. Anytime he asked me for something I got it for him like a dog playing fetch. How pathetic is that????”

“I think Nami and Robin are catching on. Probably because I haven't been flirting as much... Never thought I'd say that.”

He realized very quickly that he was reading about yesterday’s breakfast. Zoro had noticed him being extra attentive and a little strange but he'd never even considered that it might be because of a crush.

Zoro read everything there was about that event, and there was a lot. He's gotten through all the pages but one. It was a page full of scribbled text and crossed-out words that he had to squint to be able to read, but he was determined to decipher each one.

“Do you think he'd let me take his last name?”

“Roronoa Sanji. That sounds nice.”

“This is agonizing.”

“Why is he so hot?????”

“He makes poor table etiquette attractive and I want to kill him.”

Zoro was extremely entertained reading these. He was also getting the biggest ego boost of his life. Hearing about how someone you thought hated you is actually obsessed with you just strikes a different chord, apparently. He kept reading the anecdote-like scratches until he noticed a phrase written in tiny letters in the bottom corner of that same page. He hadn't seen it because of all the chaos above it. He held the journal close to his face and felt his heartbeat increase rapidly. Everything in this book so far had felt like a dream, a really weird and confusing dream. This was the first thing that really made him lose his breath. He had to read it over again to make sure he wasn't misreading it.

“I love you, Roronoa Zoro.”

That's when the roller coaster finally dropped.

♡ Chapter Nine ♡

Before he knew it the sun had begun to rise. Zoro had no worries about trying to stay awake that night, he didn't think he'd be able to ever fall asleep again after what he had gone through. Zoro read and reread the book over and over again, each time getting more of a good feeling in his body. Hearing someone talk about him like that was admittedly flattering. He'd be lying if he said he didn't take pride in the words Sanji wrote about him. Reading what the man had to say about him, Zoro couldn't help but think about the things he thought about Sanji.

He remembered all the times he made fun of the cook for wearing that pink apron with the panda on it every time he cooked but now he started to think it was kind of charming. And you know, he never really thought Sanji’s eyebrows looked dumb, they're just a very defining feature, a very unique feature. He hadn't noticed he had Sanji’s blanket bunched up close to him. He could smell the expensive lemon-scented hair gel Sanji used every morning to get his hair straight. Zoro always made fun of him for it but suddenly he found the aroma to be more than comforting. He thought about how in the book Sanji mentioned that his hair is naturally wavy, not straight like he always presented it to be. Zoro thinks he might ask to see that sometime. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine it. He was never the best at creating images in his head but he's sure it would look great.

He held the blanket closer to him. The softness of the fabric paired with the lemon fragrance and the words of admiration swimming in his mind created a scary combo. Zoro had never felt himself get like this. He'd never felt his stomach get queasy in this sort of way. It was a good queasy like he was anticipating something great. He couldn't remember the last time he'd blushed over something that wasn't anger. He'd never felt this type of desire to be around someone. He feels loyalty to Luffy in a completely different way than this. The promise he made to Kuina also feels drastically different from these feelings. Zoro tried to snap out of it but he couldn't. He kept going back to everything Sanji said about him. The words “I love you” echoed in his ears in the man’s voice over and over again. He thinks he's only heard Sanji say his real name on about three occasions in all the time they've been on the ship together. Even just seeing his own name “Roronoa Zoro” spelled out in the cook’s handwriting was enough to make his face heat up. He wanted to hear Sanji say it.

He needed to talk to Sanji.

Zoro came up with an idea that he knew had the potential to end in disaster, but that was the kind of guy he was. The cook had written that he likes the way Zoro doesn't hesitate and the swordsman is taking it personally. He decided to leave a note for the other man, in the very journal he had just read multiple times. It was bold, yes, but it was a way to get his message across without having to come face to face with Sanji.

Zoro still didn't really know how he felt. He'd never experienced any kind of romantic anything before so he was wary about jumping to conclusions. For all he knew, he could just be pumped up on adrenaline and a high ego and convincing himself he has some kind of feelings for the twirly browed man. The last thing he wanted was to get his or Sanji’s hopes up, only to let at least one of them down.

Zoro grabbed the red pen and clicked it. It felt weird holding it, especially knowing he was about to write with it. He'd just read pages upon pages of raw emotion all done with this one pen. Zoro thought maybe he was getting drowsy from the whirlwind of an all-nighter because when has he ever thought about an inanimate object so intensely?

He flipped to the page with all the scratched-out text (and the “I love you” message he made sure to take in again) and turned to the page directly after it; the next blank space. He started writing and cringed at his own writing as he compared it to Sanji’s. The cook’s writing looked like it was written by a prince, Zoro’s looked like a caveman’s. He would've at least thought being skilled with swords would give him some penmanship. He concluded that those two things were too unrelated to make any sense. He finished his message and read it over to make sure it wasn't nonsense:

“Cook-

Sorry for reading your book, I didn't mean to but once I started I couldn't stop.

Is this something you wanna talk about? I'd really like to have this conversation with you. :)

-Zoro”

He tried to sound as put together as possible, he didn't know for sure if it worked. He hoped that it would be good enough to open up whatever door this was between them. He clicked the pen and the ballpoint tip went away. Zoro shut the notebook for the final time and set it on the ground of the crow’s nest. He reluctantly untangled himself from the blanket, missing the warmth and the smell, and folded it as nicely as he could. He undid one of the folds, set the notebook and pen inside, and folded the blanket back over. He grabbed the blanket bundle and Sanji’s pillow and made his way down the nest, his heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his whole body.

He walked across the deck and looked for any sign of the chef. Nothing here. He walked past the kitchen and he couldn't smell anything from inside, which was unusual by this time. He knocked on the door and opened it a creak when he got no response. He wasn't in here either. Assuming he was still in his room from the night before, he headed in that direction. He reached the door of Sanji’s room and knocked. No response. He knocked again and heard rustling on the bed. So he was there. Zoro felt his stomach drop as he realized he'd never see Sanji in the same light again. He wanted more than anything to open that door and just talk. Talk about anything, do anything, he just wanted to be around him. He wanted to figure out what was going on.

“What?” Sanji replied, sounding like he just woke up.

“Sorry if I woke you up. Uh, I have the shit you left in the nest. I said I wasn't gonna bring it to you but I didn't want...like… a bird stealing it or something like that,” Zoro cursed himself in his head for how stupid he sounded right now. “I'm just gonna leave it out here.”

He tried to say everything in a monotone “normal Zoro” voice, he didn't want to sound like he actually cared about the cook. He wanted Sanji to find that out when he was ready to talk to him.

He set down the blanket and pillow, just now realizing that he'd been holding the blanket all night. It might smell like him. After reading that book though, Zoro wasn't too worried about that. If anything, it's probably what Sanji would've wanted, right? Zoro was taken aback that that was a sentence he actually thought. That was a sentence that actually fits with the context of life right now. Crazy. Not being able to get rid of the shock, Zoro traces his steps back down the hall and walks to the kitchen. Sanji being in a slump doesn't change the fact that he's starving. He should be able to find something to eat on his own. Hopefully.

♡ Chapter Ten ♡

Sanji got up from his empty bed and trudged to the door. He felt like hell. He probably looked like it too but he didn't want to look in the mirror. These past couple of days have put him through so much he tried to avoid. His breaking point was witnessing all of his friends circle up like some kind of cult to gossip about him. That hurt. He had no intention of seeing anyone. He didn't want to. He didn't think anyone wanted to see him either. He thought about what could make the situation better. Well, his bedding for one, he thought. He put his ear to the door to make sure no one was hovering outside. After he deemed the coast to be clear he opened the door slowly and grabbed the bundle with both arms. He set it down on his bed and looked down. He paused but he didn't know why. After a few seconds, he snapped out of it and set the pillow at the head of his bed and unfolded the blanket. As he was about to appreciate Zoro’s nice folding on the blanket, his heart dropped. The notebook and the pen fell out of the blanket and onto the floor. Sanji instantly felt sick. His head started pounding and his hands got clammy. “Please. Oh my god. Please tell me Zoro didn't see this.” He said, shakily picking up the book and the pen. “He at least saw it but… he probably didn't bother to read it.” Sanji said to himself, trying to calm himself down. If Zoro had looked at any part of this notebook, it might as well be the end of the world.

He set the book and pen down at the edge of the bed as he spread out his blanket. He got under the covers and grabbed both of the items again. It did feel nice to have a blanket again. “Dammit,” He thought. “If only I would've gotten my stuff when that bastard told me to. I could've saved myself a lot of stress.”

He opened the book roughly in the middle, flipping through pages to get to the next blank one. He clicked the pen, ready to start writing about his overflowing emotions when he noticed handwriting that wasn't his own. His heart sank farther than it ever had before. He dropped the pen and put his hand over his mouth. In a split second every bad feeling Sanji had experienced in the past two days was amplified. He felt like he was going to pass out. He'd recognize this handwriting anywhere. He knew whose it was without even reading it. He didn't want to read it.

His hands shook as he brought the book closer to his face. It was getting harder to read as his eyes clouded with a layer of tears. He read Zoro’s note. He set the book down. There was nothing Sanji wanted to do more right now than scream at the top of his lungs. He was terrified. What if Zoro never wanted to talk to him again? How would that affect the team? How was he supposed to explain that to the rest of the crew? His head was swarmed with every terrible outcome that this could cause.

His worry turned to anger. How dare Zoro read words that weren't his to read. A respectful person would've read the warning in the front of the book and stopped. Maybe Zoro was just too dumb enough to look in the front first. He got more and more riled up. He couldn't stop himself from looking at the note again. He scoffed at the smiley face. “Great. Yeah. Like adding a stupid fucking smiley face to this is gonna make me feel better! What the fuck is wrong with him?” He rambled. He didn't know how to interpret the note. At this moment, he didn't even want to know. “I'd really like to have this conversation with you.” He read aloud. “Oh yeah I'm sure you would. I'm sure you're just dying to make fun of me for this.” His face started to burn. The thought of Zoro looking through every page of text, reading every word Sanji had written in that red ink made him nauseous beyond belief. That book was something no one was ever supposed to find. No one was ever supposed to look at those words except for himself. He felt like a wall inside of him had crumbled down with no warning. A wall that maintained some stability within him, now shattered. This would usually be the time Sanji would pick up the pen and begin to write but that was the last thing he wanted to do right now.

His entire life Sanji had been keeping his emotions a secret. Writing down paragraphs of anguish anytime he was going through a lot. No one had to know what he was going through if he could keep it all to himself. But this had changed everything. Now someone knew everything. It felt like everything he'd been bottling up had been printed out on flyers and stuck around the whole world. He couldn't even calm down knowing it was just one person who'd seen it, because it happened to be the one person he didn't want looking at that book most. He could feel the mix of every awful emotion begin to move throughout his entire body. He was scared, mortified, and enraged, while still being in a state of fresh shock. His entire body felt warm and his heart was racing. He couldn't just stay in his room anymore. Why should he continue to hold in his feelings when someone had let themselves in without a second thought? He couldn't take it anymore. Sanji ripped the page Zoro had written on out of the notebook without any hesitation. He clutched it in his hand as he stood up from the bed. He had made up his mind. He didn't even bother checking his appearance before storming out of his room, deciding he needed to find Zoro right away.

♡ Chapter Eleven ♡

It didn’t take long to find him, it wasn’t exactly difficult to predict where he’d gone. Sanji felt his ears burn as he tried to come up with something to say before he barged in the kitchen door. He couldn’t come up with a single sentence. Maybe that was for the best. He’d spent his entire life lying to others about his feelings, so maybe this is where he finally lets it all go. Would it even matter if he did? It’s not like Zoro would ever want to speak to him again after this anyways.

His head was spinning faster than it ever had before. What the fuck was happening? How had all of this gone so downhill so fast? He had a feeling this would be the last time he ever wrote down anything on paper.

Sanji quickly reached the entrance to the kitchen. He looked at the deck and saw Usopp and Chopper throw a glance at him, only for them to both quickly turn their heads. Sanji scoffed in anger. This was not his day. Apparently, everyone on the ship hated him now. Great.

Before Sanji could make any movement, Zoro opened the kitchen door, carrying a plate of onigiri in his hand.

Sanji didn’t think before taking action. He wasn’t in his right mind but he didn’t care. He was too angry to think about being civilized. He didn't even realize that the swordsman had actually cooked something on his own. He put his right hand flat on Zoro’s chest and harshly shoved him back into the kitchen, following him and slamming the door behind them. The plate Zoro was previously holding was now on the ground and bits of rice had stuck to the floor. Zoro himself was also on the ground. He had been so caught off guard by the impact that he had fallen over and landed with his back against the wall. He was in awe as he looked up at the cook who was now threateningly standing above him.

“Oi, Cook, wha-” Zoro began, about to start one of their normal bicker sessions. Sanji was not in the mood.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” He spat in a painfully sharp tone. Zoro felt his mouth get dry. “What?” That was all he managed to say in response. “I said,'' Sanji said, emphasizing his words with even more malice. “What is wrong with you? How could you do something like this, you absolute bastard!” Sanji took a step back from Zoro. He knew that getting any closer to him would end up in something bad happening. Probably many broken bones, to Chopper’s dismay.

Zoro had a small idea of what was going on. He wasn’t that dumb. Obviously, this was about the book and the invasion of privacy he had committed. He knew it probably wasn’t his best moment of judgment but was it really this bad? Did Sanji really intend on keeping this secret for his entire life? Zoro couldn’t bring himself to say anything back. He felt guilty and was in shock. Anything he’d say would probably make the situation 10 times worse.

Sanji felt himself on the verge of tears. He didn’t want to cry in front of Zoro, that would just cause even more embarrassment for himself to deal with later. God, it was hard to keep it in though. This was one of the worst feelings he’s experienced. He hated yelling at Zoro in such a serious manner but his exasperation far overpowered that. He felt the tears prick at his eyes, they were begging to fall. Sanji didn’t let them.

Zoro could tell that Sanji was about to cry. It was one of the most abnormal things he’s witnessed. The only times he’s ever seen the man cry is when he used to cry over the women on the ship. That or when he gets too much saltwater in his eyes. Never has Zoro even once seen him cry out of genuine and raw emotion. It was devastating to watch.

“You’ve ruined everything. Do you know that? Can you possibly understand that?” Sanji said in a desperate tone, walking slightly closer to Zoro. The man against the wall was petrified in the position he was in. He tried to move but he couldn’t. “I didn’t mean to, I swear-” Once again the cook cut him off before he could finish his thought. “I don’t wanna hear it from you.” Sanji inhaled a shaky breath and released a sad puff of cigarette smoke. “I don’t know what made you think that what you did was okay, but Jesus, I’d love to know..” He sounded more heartbroken than anything.

Zoro had to do something. He had to say something that would end up helping the situation. Judging by how this conversation was going right now, it wasn’t going to turn out in either of their favor.

“Cook, listen, I’m sorry.” Zoro tried to plead.

“You’re sorry? Sorry, really? If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have invaded my goddamn privacy in the first place!” Sanji shouted, not caring about what anyone thought of him anymore. “Seriously, who does that?” He laughed in awe. He put his fingers on his temples and closed his eyes. “I guess you do, because you only care about yourself, you’ve only ever cared about yourself.” He sneered.

“That’s not true.” Zoro stood his ground. He understood why Sanji was upset but he wouldn’t stand for his character being slandered.

“Okay, well, I guess you just never cared about me then. That sounds more accurate, doesn’t it?” Sanji took his hand off his face and made straight eye contact with the swordsman. Zoro was finally able to pull himself up from the ground, standing a few inches away from the wall. Sanji was a few feet in front of him.

“That’s not true either. You know that.” Zoro reasoned. Sanji’s face turned a light shade of pink and he turned his head away.

“Do I know that? Have you ever made that clear? Because as far as I know, you hate me more than anyone else you’ve ever met!” Sanji threw an arm in the air for a second. Every one of his movements was more dramatic than usual.

“I didn’t think I had to make it clear! We fight! We make fun of each other, that’s what we do!” Zoro’s voice got louder as he spoke. He couldn’t believe he was really having this conversation. As if Sanji thought he didn’t care about him. Zoro cared about the entire crew, it was bizarre of the cook to feel like he wasn’t included in that.

“Yeah I’m sure you can’t wait to make fun of me for this. I can already hear your stupid fucking jokes. Lemme tell you now, they’re not funny.” Sanji hissed, turning his head back to Zoro.

“Jesus, Cook! What the fuck do I have to say to get you to listen to me for one second! I’m not gonna make fun of you! I just wanted to talk.” Zoro was fully yelling at this point. He didn’t want to, but it was something he knew he was good at and it seemed to be the only way Sanji would pay him any attention.

“Oh, I’m sure you have so much you want to say to me,” Sanji unclenched the fist he’s maintained the whole time and exposed the page he had torn out of the book. He threw the crumpled note at Zoro and hit him in the stomach with it. Zoro looked like he was going to be sick. “Well I don’t want to hear it. Just do me a favor and forget this ever happened, we don’t need the crew to be affected by this.” Sanji said, his words wavering towards the end. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be acting like this. This wasn’t his normal self and he didn’t enjoy being so harsh with the man he had fallen for. But he had crossed a line, essentially the only line there was. It hurt.

Zoro stood there completely stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Even if he did miraculously come up with something, his throat felt like sandpaper. All he could do was stand like an idiot and watch as Sanji made his way to the door.

The cook had his hand on the door, about to push it open and leave the tension-filled room when he gave one more request. He turned his head around. His sunflower blonde hair perfectly swooped with the motion of his head-turning. His tear-filled eyes pierced right through Zoro’s entire being.

“Just…” Sanji felt like he had ripped his own heart out and stamped it into the ground. “Stay away from me.”

With that, the chef left his kitchen which had now been tainted with a sour feeling. He didn’t bother looking at any other crew members on his way back to his room. He didn’t bother asking anyone if they were hungry. He didn’t even bother giving Zoro a second thought.

All he could do was allow the tears to flow as he toiled back to the solitude he’d become so accustomed to.

♡ Chapter Twelve ♡

Zoro stood alone in the kitchen. He felt completely useless. He put his face in his hands and groaned. “God I fucked up so bad.” You could hear the regret in his voice. He stepped back and aligned his back with the wall. He slid down back onto the floor and sat there staring at the door.

“He's right.” He said simply. “What have I done?” Zoro flopped his arms to the ground in realization. What he had done was extremely disrespectful from Sanji’s perspective. The cook had every right to feel the way he did. Zoro had blatantly invaded his privacy and vandalized his property. On top of that, he didn't even have the guts to ask Sanji about it himself, he just left a dumb little note and thought everything would turn out alright. When he took a second to think about it, Zoro realized how bad that was.

Technically it wasn't his fault that he didn't see that at the time. He had never been good with other peoples' emotions or his own. He rarely had a second thought about anything and usually acted on his first instinct. Of course, it ended up blowing up in his face every once in a while but it'd never been this bad. Zoro felt awful about what he did. He can't remember the last time he's been this stressed about anything. Just when he thought he could become closer to Sanji in one way or another, of course, he had to go fuck everything up like this.

He wanted nothing more than to follow the cook out of the kitchen, drag him back in here, and plead for his forgiveness. But that would be acting on impulse once again and he couldn't do that anymore. Not with something as serious as this. Not with someone as important as Sanji.

All Zoro could do was the next best thing. Which happened to be the worst possible thing in his eyes, but Sanji had made it abundantly clear that it's what he wished. Starting now he'd leave the cook alone. No more barging into the kitchen demanding booze. No more small fits of insults. No more throwing around terrible nicknames whenever he pleased.

No more hurting Sanji.

No more… Sanji.

♡ Chapter Thirteen ♡

The next few days were absolutely agonizing.

Sanji still spent most of the time in his room. He had accepted the crew’s apologies but didn't make an effort to try to socialize. Luckily for everyone else, he was at least back to making regular meals three times a day. He had picked up on the not-so-subtle fact that everyone else was practically incompetent when it came to cooking, so he knew it was time to step in.

Even while cooking he never felt normal. There was always that constant thought in the back of his mind. He tried to ignore it but it never failed to push its way to the front of his brain all the time. He wanted to give in. He wanted to go to Zoro and apologize for how he had acted. He wanted to go back to the way things were, even if he was constantly pining over the man. What they were doing now felt so wrong. The crew was starting to notice as well. Everyone had made remarks about how quiet the ship was now that Zoro and Sanji weren’t arguing. Thankfully, they were on a long journey to a far-off island so they hadn’t gotten into any major fights where they’d be forced to team up. They did have a few encounters with random bounty hunters or rivaling pirate crews but they were nothing that called for extreme measures. Sanji didn’t know if he’d be able to fight alongside Zoro even if he needed to, he barely felt like he could look in his direction the way things were now. He knew that action had to be taken soon. They couldn’t keep going on like this and ignoring each other forever. There’d come a time when they needed to work together, and Sanji knew he had to be over all of this for that to happen. But as much as he wanted to do something, it was a lot easier said than done. Every time the swordsman would walk past him or any time he’d come in the kitchen for lunch, Sanji felt like he was being punched in the stomach. The thought of him knowing everything he shouldn’t made the cook impossibly queasy. He still didn’t know for sure how Zoro felt about the whole situation. It’s not as if he could just ask. Hopefully, sometime he’d get the courage to work things out.

Things were going just as bad for Zoro. He had spent the past few days trying to sleep and train off the guilt he had been eaten alive by. He wanted to apologize to Sanji so badly that every time he would walk past him he debated pulling him aside and forcing him to listen. He’d never actually do it though, of course. His goal during all of this was to make Sanji the least bit uncomfortable as he possibly could. He knew that right now he was not welcome in his life and Zoro respected that. He respected it but that didn’t mean he had to like it. It seemed like every second of every day Zoro found himself cursing the whole situation in his mind. He was mad at himself for acting so impulsively, he was mad at the universe for making Sanji like him of all people, and he was especially mad at his heart for making it feel like he liked Sanji back. That had been the hardest pill to swallow while all of this was going down.

Spending time away from Sanji gave Zoro the chance to work out his own feelings about the chef. Well, maybe not “work out”, that would’ve been a miracle. He was at least beginning to come to an understanding though. Zoro knew all his life that he probably wasn’t straight. He had no interest in girls and really couldn’t care less when it came to relationships. This had been something that never bothered him, until now. Ever since he opened that book and read those crimson words, Sanji was the only thing that was on his mind. He couldn't stop repeating the words he had read in his mind. He thought about them morning to night, he even started having dreams about the chef during his afternoon naps. Things were getting out of hand. Zoro didn’t want to like Sanji like that. He knew that it would complicate things even further. “In crew relationships” always seemed like a bad idea to him, but now it seemed even worse because he was directly involved. As bad as it seemed, he couldn't help himself from thinking about the possibilities. Of course, he had to start thinking he had feelings for the very man he had just ruined a relationship with. Zoro decided that he wouldn’t talk to Sanji until he was ready to talk, which would be very difficult, to say the least. He needed to explain to Sanji what he had been trying to do but knew he couldn’t until the cook would actually listen to him. Zoro had to accomplish the impossible and just wait. For anything else, he thinks he would’ve gone crazy waiting on someone else, but for Sanji, it was worth it.

♡ Chapter Fourteen ♡

It had been a week since their last conversation (if you could even consider what happened a conversation). Zoro was starting to feel the effects of having to ignore someone you potentially like. Over the past seven days, he had concluded that something was definitely up with him and his feelings. He had never felt something like this before and no matter what he did, he couldn’t get his mind off Sanji. He knew he needed to talk to him to sort everything out but he had made a promise to himself and he intended to keep it.

Sanji was slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that maybe things would be alright. He was still mad at Zoro, of course. How could he not be? But even so, he really missed talking to him every day. He would much rather be butting heads with the swordsman right now than sitting at the kitchen table alone. He was still downright terrified whenever he thought about confronting Zoro, but he knew he’d never know how the moss head truly felt if he didn’t ask. He’d been giving him the silent treatment for an entire week. Maybe it was finally time to break the ice.

♡ Chapter Fifteen ♡

The sun was just beginning to set but Sanji made his way up to the crow’s nest anyway. He’d been taking the night watch a lot lately, it helped him clear his head. He made sure to never bring that damned book with him, he’d never make that mistake again. He sighed and climbed up the ladder. He stepped onto the floor, immediately slumped down against the short wall, and wrapped his blanket around himself, trying to get comfortable against the wood. He stared at the sun and all the pinks, oranges, and reds that went along with it going down. He smiled to himself. The orange-yellow that was emitted from the sun in this sky was his favorite. It always made him feel at peace, at least for a second. His peace was interrupted when he heard footsteps from down below. He wondered who was out on the deck at this hour, he thought everyone had gone their separate ways for the night. He craned his neck over the wall of the nest. He somehow held an exasperated laugh. “Of course it’s him, why wouldn’t it be?” He softly mumbled to himself.

Zoro hadn’t been able to sleep at all that day, which was obviously out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t get much sleep at all lately. It wasn’t shocking to him, just annoying. Being tired would hinder his ability to fight which was obviously a no-go for the swordsman. He thought that watching the sunset might calm some of his nerves. He never wanted anyone to know that he was stressed out, he needed to hide all traces of uncertainty he had, for the sake of the crew. He’d gotten used to it by now, but this whole predicament had made it harder than usual. He never really partook in leisurely activities such as watching the sunset but he was quite desperate at this point. He walked out onto the deck and over to one of the railings on the edge of the ship. He set his hands flat on the wood and looked out to the sea. The sun reflecting against the water was a sight to see. He questioned why he’d never done this before. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, feeling a little calmer as he watched the waves roll along.

Sanji turned his head back as if Zoro had caught him staring. He hadn’t, of course, but that was the problem. If Sanji had the opportunity to look at Zoro for God knows how long without the man noticing, he would absolutely take that opportunity. He knew that would end poorly though. Especially now since they were ignoring each other. Sanji felt his face heat up. Suddenly the sunset didn’t seem as pretty. There was something much more beautiful below. He slowly turned his head back and peered down. He almost gasped when he realized the swordsman wasn’t just coming out here to sleep. He was watching the sunset too. Sanji knew for a fact that he’s never once seen Zoro look at the sky just for fun, he definitely would’ve remembered. At least he’ll be able to have this memory now. He couldn’t bring himself to look away. Sanji cursed Zoro for looking so good even when he had no one to impress. Sanji felt like he did so much every day to make sure he looked up to par with his own standards. Zoro 100% does not have a morning routine, so the fact that he can look so perfect with no effort is… annoying. Annoying, but wonderful at the same time. Yes, it means that he doesn’t have to spend a half-hour getting his hair perfect every morning but it also means that his looks will be more than great at any moment of any day. Sanji felt all of his mixed emotions melt away. Watching Zoro watch the sunset was something he never would’ve imagined being this good. The way all the colors bounced off of his hair, the way the orange light complemented his tan skin, Zoro’s unwavering gaze out on the sea. It was all perfect. It was all so serene. Sanji could’ve died right then and there and been completely content. He can’t move his eyes away from the scene. He watches Zoro taking deep breaths in and out over and over again. It’s an addicting sight. The blush on Sanji’s face deepens as he feels his heart pulse in response. He can feel himself melting into the setting. He couldn’t feel upset if he tried. He softly smiled as he turned his head and looked out to the sun from his perspective. He realizes how much he’s been missing this past week. He feels a jolt in his heart when he remembers the fact that he and Zoro are still off speaking terms. He looks back down at him and feels that jolt subside. “God, what have I been doing?” Sanji whispers to himself. “Why have I been avoiding the one person I want to be around most?” Sanji took a draw from his cigarette. He had to do something. He had to get things worked out. He didn’t want to keep doing this anymore. He was ready to listen.

“Enjoying the view, moss head?” Sanji called out from the nest.

Zoro almost lost his grip from turning his head around so fast. He couldn’t believe what he just heard. He had no idea that Sanji was out here. It felt way too early for him to be on night watch yet, it was barely starting to get dark. He looked up and was met with the cook leaning over the edge of the nest just enough so his head was visible. Zoro felt his stomach twist. He’d missed hearing Sanji call him those dumb names.

“Yeah. You?” Zoro called back, not wanting to immediately jump the gun. Sanji had finally made the first move in mending their friendship, he couldn’t fuck this up.

“Yeah.” Sanji said simply, looking out to the open sky. Zoro smiled but didn’t say anything. He watched as Sanji smiled while the pink sky reflected off his sandy hair. It was a delightful combo. Sanji shifted his gaze back down to the swordsman and was met with his eyes looking straight at him. Sanji hoped the blush that crept onto his face was obscured by the nest.

“Isn't it cold down there?” Sanji spoke quickly. He didn’t want Zoro to catch onto the fact that he had been relishing in the soft eye contact between them. “A little.” The swordsman chuckled. They both went back to the silent eye contact they had broken off. It seemed like both men didn’t want to look away.

“Well… I have a blanket up here if you want it.” Sanji couldn't believe he said something so bold. Zoro smiled and suddenly Sanji didn’t feel nervous anymore. That smile could cure anything. “Thanks for the offer, but if you gave me your blanket then you’d be cold.” Zoro responded, still laughing slightly. Sanji pouted. He wanted to reply with “What if we just shared the blanket then.” But he knew he couldn’t do that. “Could I?” He thought to himself. “No. I can’t.” He answered himself back hastily.

“I think I'd manage.” He yelled back instead of saying what his heart told him to.

Zoro took a moment to assess what was happening. Sanji was talking to him for one, that was a good sign. Not only was he talking to him, but he was also having a normal conversation. He wasn’t telling him to leave him alone, he wasn’t yelling or patronizing him, he was just making friendly banter. Friendly might be an understatement. If Zoro’s judgment was correct, it sounded like Sanji was trying to get him to come up to the nest with him. Either this was just a ploy for him to kick Zoro from a high spot, or he was finally ready to talk. Zoro prayed it was the second. With this in mind, he thought he could probably get away with his normal sardonic tone.

“I don’t want to assume, but it kinda sounds like you want me to come up there.” Zoro threw at Sanji. He watched as the chef’s face switched to a bashful expression. So he was right.

“Shut up! You’re just saying that ‘cause..” Sanji paused. He had never admitted this out loud. He didn’t really want to but it’s not like it wasn’t obvious already. “‘Cause you know that I like you, asshole!” He was able to force out. It felt awkward and still scary to admit but part of it felt good to yell out into the world.

Zoro’s eyes got wide in response. He looked completely caught off guard. Of course, he already knew that Sanji was into him but something about hearing him say it felt completely different. It felt nice.

“You said it, not me!” Zoro grinned. Sanji’s shy expression turned to match the man’s below. “Just get up here you idiot.” Sanji retorted, breaking eye contact and crossing his arms. He felt odd telling Zoro to meet him up in the nest. Part of him felt like he shouldn’t have, like he should keep ignoring him and continued being upset with him forever. What he had done was wrong, after all. The other part of him felt like this was a breath of fresh air. This is exactly what he’s wanted to happen for so long. To be alone with Zoro, watching the sunset. What could possibly be better than that? Sanji’s scoff became a barely noticeable smile. He’d get over what Zoro did at some point. Right now all that mattered was getting him to come up here.

Sanji looked back down at Zoro. He was smiling ear to ear. Sanji melted.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

♡ Chapter Sixteen ♡

Zoro hurried up the ladder like his life depended on it. There was nothing more he wanted than to get up there and finally come to an understanding with the cook. Sanji waited for what felt like forever. He felt the tension build as he heard Zoro getting closer and closer but he tried to shoo it away. There was nothing to be nervous about. Except… everything.

Zoro made his way to the top and grabbed onto the last pegs of the ladder. His mossy hair along with the rest of his head poked out from under the floor of the nest.

“Hi.” He stated, with barely any emotion in his words. He was taken aback. He hadn’t been this close to Sanji in over a week. He missed it.

“Hi.” Sanji said back. He was terrified but could barely tell due to the overwhelming infatuation he got from looking at the man in front of him.

Zoro continued to hold onto the ladder instead of climbing in the crow’s nest. He decided to start the conversation off with something nice, to give things a good start.

“You look really nice in this light.” Zoro said completely genuinely. Sanji clenched the blanket he was enthralled in and his eyes teemed with a glint. “Shut up.” He responded, looking away as fast as he could. Zoro hoisted himself up and landed against the wood flooring. “I’m serious, curly.” Zoro practically whispered. Sanji thought he might die. Was his hearing okay? Was this just a dream? He hoped not because that would mean he fell asleep on the job. He snapped out of it when he heard the thud against the wood that was made as Zoro sat down. This definitely wasn’t a dream.

“So…” Zoro began. He didn’t know where he wanted that sentence to go, so he didn’t finish it. Sanji still didn’t look at him.

Sanji sighed. “Listen, Zoro,” He heard himself say the man’s name out loud and almost stopped, but knew he had to keep going. If he couldn’t even say his name, how were they going to progress at all? Sanji ignored the flip his heart did as he heard Zoro let out a tiny gasp. “I’m not sure how you feel about… everything… but this- ignoring you, it’s just too much.” He said, taking another puff from his cigarette. He let his arms fall to the ground. “And I’m not just saying that ‘cause I, y’know…” He had already said it once, he didn’t need to say it again. Zoro watched intently as Sanji spoke. He was actually taking in every word. He was really letting him just talk. That was a first. Sanji felt the need to keep explaining himself, so he did. “I’m not gonna lie, what you did was fucked up,” He looked up. Zoro looked to the side. “But, I don’t know, I guess I’m not that mad about it anymore.” Sanji was telling the truth. Yeah, he was still upset about it but he now knew it wouldn’t be detrimental like he had convinced himself it would be. The fact that Zoro was even listening to him explain this in the first place was proof of that. Sanji heard Zoro clear his throat. He guessed now it was his turn to listen.

Zoro had never been good with apologies. Probably because he hardly ever made them. It felt weird apologizing so sincerely but this time it was necessary. He felt like he needed to. He wanted to.

“I’m sorry. Like, really fucking sorry for doing that.” He exhaled. God this was hard. He took the crumpled note Sanji had thrown at him a week prior out of his pocket. He unfolded it and held it up. “I know that this was stupid. I shouldn’t have read your shit and I definitely shouldn’t have written in it.” He lowered the piece of paper and looked down at it. He laughed to himself. “Yeah, definitely shouldn’t have done that.” He mumbled. Sanji gave a weak smile and tried to suppress the emotions he felt building up. Zoro looked up at him. He looked back. “I’m god awful at this but, what I’m trying to say is just.. I’m sorry. And I hope you know that this-” He held up the note once more. “Wasn’t out of mockery. I really did just want to talk to you.” Zoro let out a breath of relief. He did it. He was finally able to apologize and have at least a little bit of weight lifted off his shoulders. Sanji hadn’t responded but at least he knew he tried.

“I know that, dumbass.” Sanji said while finding it difficult to maintain eye contact. “I said it doesn’t matter. I forgive you.. or whatever.” Zoro kept looking at him. He was mesmerizing. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way when he was in the midst of apologizing but there was nothing he could do to stop it. The sun kept setting and Sanji only continued to look more and more breathtaking. There were unquestionably things Zoro needed to address with himself.

Sanji caught Zoro staring. He wondered if the swordsman even heard what he said. He didn’t really care either way. Sanji much preferred this.

Zoro put his hands flat on the floor and scooted himself across the nest so he was face to face with the cook. His whole body shivered. Was it okay for him to be this close? He sure as hell hoped so, it would be a hard time trying to convince himself to move.

Sanji could feel his heart in his stomach. What was Zoro doing? Why was he so close? Why did he look so kissable? He tried to scratch that lost thought out of his brain. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might have a heart attack. Imagine him trying to explain to Chopper that he died for such an idiotic reason. He’d have to come back from the dead to try and plead his case.

Zoro took in every detail of the man in front of him. He had never done this before. He had never thought to. He looked at his face, all of it. His shining blue eyes that looked just like the ocean, his straight blonde hair that had small curls starting to show through, his one visible curly eyebrow that made him chuckle. Sanji looked away the entire time. This was too embarrassing to handle. The swordsman looked down at Sanji’s lips. He didn’t mean to but his eyes wandered there by themselves. They looked so soft. They were such a perfect shade of light pink. Zoro felt his breath get caught in his throat. Sanji glanced back at him only to realize what he was doing. Sanji’s stomach immediately filled to the brim with butterflies. He lost all feeling in his legs. He had no thoughts in his mind. The little awareness he did have left was asking over and over again if this was real.

“Hey cook?” Zoro asked, maintaining an unbroken stare at Sanji’s lips. Sanji blushed even harder. How that was possible, he had no idea. Zoro breathed in and exhaled shakily.

“Yeah?” Sanji whispered. He couldn’t manage anything more than that. That one word took all of his strength.

Zoro shifted his gaze to Sanji’s eyes. He felt himself getting lost in them. He never wanted this feeling to go away. He opened his mouth to speak.

“Can I kiss you?”

♡ Chapter Seventeen ♡

Sanji sprung back to reality. His whole body flinched and his eyes bugged out. Zoro saw this and immediately sprung back as well. Both men seemed completely off guard.

“What?!” Sanji sputtered, barely able to process what he heard. “You want to.. what?” He repeated himself. Zoro felt like he just fucked everything up. He really should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Things were going so well but of course, he had to say something stupid.

“Sorry. I didn’t- uh- oh god.” Zoro didn’t even know how to start explaining himself. He didn’t really know the reasoning himself either. The words just kind of fell out of his mouth. They felt right at that moment so he let it happen. Now he was having second thoughts.

Sanji looked at him skeptically. He took a wavering breath through his cigarette. “Did I.. hear you right?” Sanji questioned. “I- I think so.” Zoro choked. He looked to the side. He was too embarrassed to look back at Sanji.

“I didn’t know you were gay.” Sanji said, phrasing it almost like a question. Maybe it wasn’t the best thing to say at the moment but it was a valid response. This was just the cherry on top of every shocking thing that had happened recently.

“I don’t know if I am.” Zoro responded. “I don’t know what I am.. I just know… I mean, I think,” If Sanji said it, he should be able to too. There was no way he’d let that bastard cook one-up him. “I might like you too, cook.” Zoro was met back with the widest and bluest set of eyes he’d ever seen. He thought Sanji’s eyes might actually pop out of his head. His mouth opened off his own accord and the cigarette fell out of his mouth. Zoro picked it up and awkwardly placed it back in Sanji’s mouth. He tried to help but maybe he shouldn’t have, he was far from the most graceful guy on earth.

Sanji broke out of his shock and started laughing. He took the cigarette between two of his fingers and adjusted it between his teeth. “Thanks, idiot.” He said through his laughter. Zoro scratched the back of his neck. He felt so dumb. “No problem!” He said with a strained tone. Sanji continued laughing. Zoro laughed nervously alongside him until the nerves drained away. Zoro slowly stopped laughing as he watched Sanji lose his mind over the dumb action he had made. Zoro smiled. He was the prettiest thing Zoro’s ever seen. He’s almost positive his feelings aren’t just his ego talking. There was really only one way to find out, but he wasn’t going to ask again.

Sanji’s laughter began to subside as he opened his eyes again and saw the swordsman staring at him. A dark red was spread across his face. Seeing Zoro blush made Sanji blush.

It was silent. The only sounds were the soft crashing of the waves and birds cawing far away. They both looked at each other. Sanji shifted the blanket off of him and moved closer to Zoro. Zoro followed his movement and leaned in closer as well. They were inches apart.

“Moss head?” Sanji breathed. He tilted his head ever so slightly.

“Sanji?” Zoro whispered. Their noses were almost touching.

Sanji almost backed away after hearing Zoro say his name. Not only say his name but in that tone, in this context. This man was going to be the death of him. He had to act fast before he collapsed and missed this opportunity.

“If you want to kiss me, you should do it before I change my mind.” Sanji replied quietly. His words were snide but Sanji’s tone only came off as desperate. Zoro smiled.

“Guess I should stop wasting time then.” Zoro said with barely any volume.

Sanji moved his whole body closer, without moving his face away from Zoro’s. Zoro took this as a hint and put one of his hands around his waist. Sanji flinched but almost instantly eased into it. This is what he’s wanted for so long. He was so scared. Zoro used his other hand to take the cigarette out of Sanji’s mouth. He moved his face away from Sanji’s just by a few inches. Sanji complained in his mind.

Zoro pinched the cigarette between his fingers to put it out and threw it behind him. Sanji tried to hide the fact that that was one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. He doesn’t do a good job. Zoro chuckles slyly. “It was in my way.” He looks straight into Sanji’s half-lidded eyes. Sanji can’t take it anymore. He needs this. Zoro pulls Sanji closer in by the hand he has on his waist. Sanji lets out a small noise of shock and Zoro squeezes his hand in response.

Zoro moves his face back to where it was. Sanji moves in closer. Their noses touch, they pause. Neither of them ever thought that this would ever happen. Why would have the possibility of this happening ever crossed their minds? Neither of them cared. Who cared if it seemed like a far-fetched situation? It was happening. That’s all that mattered.

Zoro made the final move. He was the one who asked the question, after all.

Their lips connected and it was unlike anything either had ever experienced.

Sanji’s lips were just as soft as they looked. He tasted like cigarette smoke and expensive tea. Zoro wished he could taste it forever. He gripped Sanji’s waist as if he was going to try to leave. He prayed that he didn’t want to.

Sanji never wanted to leave this spot. He had imagined this moment a million times but he never imagined it would be as incredible as this. Despite everything he would’ve presumed about Zoro’s kissing, it was evident he knew exactly what he was doing. He kissed carefully and tenderly, with still an edge of roughness. The physical contact he was making made it all the more blissful. It was more than Sanji ever could’ve dreamt up. He couldn’t get enough. He never wanted to let go. He wanted this and so much more.

Zoro felt a hand against his cheek and he raised an eyebrow. The feeling of Sanji’s delicate palm against the side of his face felt extremely foreign, but he liked it. It felt so reassuring and loving. Zoro had never been the cheesy type but maybe Sanji would be the one to turn him. He felt all of his emotions towards the chef become validated in a split second.

Sanji is the first one to pull away, to his dismay. If only breathing wasn’t a necessary function of life. He just hoped they’d be able to resume as quickly as possible. Although, maybe they should have a conversation about this first.

Zoro looks at Sanji with half-closed eyes. He doesn’t say anything but he’s breathing heavily. His lips are flushed as well. Sanji feels his stomach churn at the sight. He hopes whatever this thing becomes doesn’t stop at just kissing. Zoro takes a deep breath in followed by a large exhale out. Sanji watches as his chest moves up and out. He catches himself staring and looks away, his gaze landing on Zoro’s smug face.

“Something else catching your interest, curly?” He asked in the slyest tone you’ve ever heard. Sanji blushed furiously. “No!” He breaks eye contact. “Shut up..” He folds his arms again. He had to tell himself not to look back, he knew Zoro would never let him live it down if he did.

Zoro laughed and moved the hand on Sanji’s waist so it fully wrapped around his torso. Sanji looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. The swordsman couldn’t help but stare in awe. How could he not have realized it before? The entire time he’d been on the same crew as this man, he never once stopped to consider that he might like him at least a little bit? How blind could he be? Sanji was wonderful. I guess it took a little more than just living with him to realize that. He was everything someone could want in a person. Zoro felt like he owed the universe for making the cook fall for him.

For once, Sanji didn’t look away. He watched as Zoro stared at him. He loved the attention he was getting. He loved feeling him against himself. This was so overwhelming but in the best way possible. He couldn’t care less about that stupid book anymore. At this moment, he could write a whole series complete with spin-offs about why he loved the man who was holding him.

Sanji coughed meekly. “So… uh… what’d ya think?” Sanji asked, hopefully. Zoro chuckled at the way Sanji phrased it. It sounded so nonchalant but he knew Sanji was hiding a plethora of feelings so that was the best he could do.

“I think…” Zoro paused and pretended like he was thinking, but he already knew his answer. “I wanna stay up here all night and help you with the night watch.” He grinned. Sanji scoffed. “Okay, sure. The “night watch”.” He replied sarcastically. “Yeah, the night watch. What would you do if a sea king attacked the ship and you were too distracted by me to fight back? I gotta be here to protect you.” He said with fake sympathy. Zoro saw a flame light in Sanji’s eye. “As if I’d be distracted by the likes of you! And I can protect myself, moss brain! I don’t need your help!” He started yelling back. Zoro laughed and put his other hand around Sanji’s waist, proceeding to swiftly lift him up into his lap. The cook immediately shut his mouth. “Oh so is this you being “not distracted”?'' Zoro teased. Sanji was blushing head to toe. “You’re the worst, you know that?” He replied, trying not to prove Zoro’s point.

Zoro smiled and his face relaxed to a tranquil expression. He laced Sanji’s bangs between his fingers and pushed it out of his face, tucking the golden lock behind his ear. Sanji looked like he was on the verge of tears. Zoro’s smile went from smug to sincere in no time at all. All he could do was look in awe.

“Woah.” Zoro couldn’t stop himself from saying. Sanji looked away in embarrassment. He hated having his hair tucked behind his ear like that, it felt weird after having it one way for so long. “You’re so… pretty, Sanji.” Zoro continued. Sanji looked back at Zoro. His bright blue eyes were swirling with clouds. He was beaming. “You too, Zoro.” he said, leaning in to steal another kiss from the swordsman. Zoro happily let him.

♡ Epilogue ♡

Neither of them let out a single yawn the whole time they were in the nest. They had each other to keep them up until sunrise. They talked about anything and everything. From stupid things like favorite colors and nonsense dreams to bouncing back and forth on why both men had grown to like each other. Zoro continued to apologize for reading Sanji’s diary and Sanji continued to forgive him. Between conversations, they’d kiss until they couldn’t anymore. Zoro couldn’t stop teasing Sanji and Sanji couldn’t bring himself to stop him. By morning they were under the blanket together, Sanji’s head rested on Zoro’s chest while the swordsman had his arm wrapped around his cook. They mutually decided to worry about the crew when the time came to cross that bridge. For now, they were both in heaven and couldn’t be bothered to worry about anything other than each other. As Sanji moved to the rhythm of Zoro’s breathing, he decided that when they got to their destination he’d buy a new book. A book that would be filled with two different colors of pen. A new book for a new beginning.

#zosan #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x zoro #one piece #one piece fic #one piece fanfiction #twirlyeyebrows

[nucleartuna]

Last year’s development meme | Template by yorunaka

Shieeeeet... I haven’t drawn anything for months. I couldn’t do the same monthly development meme I did last year, but I wanted to do something. So I picked my own favourites from the tiny folder of 2017 drawings, and attempted to reflect on why I like them and what’s been going on with my art, or rather the lack of it this year. 

[01.] Hanzo holding a noodle. I was proud of this when I made it. Now I think it’s horrible but I put a lot of effort into it and tried my best to make Hanzo look like Hanzo - which failed miserably. I enjoyed drawing the dragon.

[02.] Grampa dragon!Hanzo. I like this look a lot. Also I like drawing those dragon ears. [03.] Bedhead Jinbe. He’s just so.... done.

[04.] Reinzo beach kissu (ʃƪ ˘ ³˘)♥(˘ ε˘ʃƪ)

[05.] Mihawk trying to be cool 

[06.] Zoro + undercut + weird shirt = profit??? I like the hair.

[07.] Some random shit Elf McElfface I never even bothered posting. I liked the textures in this. I was trying to revisit my pencil sketch style phase.

[08.] I did a slightly better job with Hanzo’s face. I just can’t get it quite right something always seems off. But this one has nice colours and brushstrokes.

[09.] That random sketch you worked on at 3am and never touched again. Not sure what fascinates me in this one. The subject and the palette maybe. In case you haven’t noticed I enjoy drawing forward facing portraits of different characters with the same expression.

[10.] The Reinzo eggo child. The beginning of 2017 was the Time of The Egg. Most of my drawings and doodles from this year have something to do with the eggo. I don’t remember if I decided on a name or not... But there was a fic. Well is a fic. It has sexytimes and I’ve never really written the sex before. I was so worried it’s gonna be so bad. Not just the sex like every part of it I’ve never written these characters before. I think I made a post to look for someone to read it through? Did I send it to someone? I don’t even remember. Feels like last January was 10 years ago. Anyway this is probably my fave. He’s such a cute and serious eggo.

[11.] “Draw me like one of your french girls”-Hanzo. Hate the colours. Anatomy turned out quite nicely.I guess I was trying to do push myself to do a fully coloured picture with a different palette I’m used to. I feel like this picture doesn’t breathe and it doesn’t have depth,

[12.] Same problem as the last one. experimenting didn’t work out. I still like the concept and I guess it was fun to draw until I fucked up the hair. Come on, silmaril!zombie Maedhros? Anyone? Just me? My dad? No? Ok.

Reflection time: Did I draw? For a couple of months. Did I want to draw? Sometimes. Yes. Why didn’t I draw? I feel like crap most of the time and if I get an idea I immediately start to feel guilty. Zero motivation. I kept thinking none want to see anything I’ve done. I don’t have any community. I was busy with my thesis and now it’s projects projects projects unsure schedules unsure financial future stress stress stress.  Let’s try to be positive - Hopes for next year: Continue the SNK comic. Learn to draw Hanzo’s stupid face. Draw more sheepreindeerdragons (OCs). Doodle more think less. 

#2017 art meme #nucleartuna

[zosan-fic-recs]

Random Zosan Recs 3

Impel Down by BlackBarBooks

Pros: 1. This is an incredibly well-planned alternate timeline fic of One Piece canon where Sanji didn’t meet Luffy in East Blue, and instead he works in Impel Down as a cook where Zoro is sent as a prisoner. The setting is interesting and uses what we do know in canon very well, while also adding intriguing new concepts to the staff and structure of the Marine prison.

2. The writer uses Sanji’s naturally compassionate personality and curiosity to slowly build a bond with Zoro by having the cook observe that the swordsman isn’t like the other prisoners. The result is that it’s very believable when they come to care for each other, and it’s easy to become invested in their struggle to survive in the dangerous prison together.

Cons: There is quite a bit of coincidence that occurs when getting back Zoro’s swords.

Watching Their Light by SummerOtaku

Pros: 1. This fic takes the concept of vivre cards and creatively expands it into vivre candles.

2. The way Zoro and Sanji learn to communicate while using the candles is charming and interesting.

Cons: While the writer mentions that the two of them find a way to use the candles to have their own version of phone sex - it’s not actually written out or explained even though it’s implicated that the sexual stuff is a big part of their communications. There are a number of other situations mentioned that are detailed with how they experience them using the candles so the exclusion of the sex (especially since the writer says they do it frequently) makes it feel like something is missing.

Restlessness by AlphaShae

Pros: 1. Zoro can’t sleep so he annoys Sanji.

2. This is a cute little story where the two of them obviously have a healthy, established relationship.

Cons: The very last line is confusing. It’s probably meant to be a sort of declaration from an unseen narrator. However, because there’s no clear transition from Sanji’s POV to the narrator’s it makes it look like Sanji is commenting on a situation where he was mostly asleep.

In Dreams by Sinisterbug

Pros: 1. This fic places all the Strawhat crew in a historical AU where they are all part of the French court in the 1700s. The setting and culture is researched well enough to feel reasonably accurate, and it’s a lot of fun to see how the writer chose to use the characters in this environment.

2. There are several conversations about love regarding one-sided affections and a person who is being pursued by someone they do not love the same way; each of these conversations are deeply meaningful with good points made for each party.

Cons: There is a twist ending that is fairly cliche. Since the rest of the story is so rich and creative the ending is a stark contrast to all of that. For the most part the contrast is purposeful as it serves as part of the plot, but honestly I would have rather seen that kind of twist in a story where the first part was less engaging and unique.

Snow Ballet by NightRhain

Pros: 1. Sanji as a figure-skater is too perfect. Also @exzireart has some lovely art for this AU.

2. The whole setting of the Olympics is a lot of fun, and seeing how the One Piece crew is written in with real athletes is interesting.

Cons: There are some issues with the formatting that can make it harder to realize what’s going on in certain conversations. Also at one point Sanji imagines Robin and Nami together while jerking off.

Note: As of yet this fic is unfinished.

#opfanfic #zosan #zosan fic rec

[ladysharry]

This blog!

So those of you, who actually read this. After some kind advice from a fellow writer, I will turn this blog into some news-platform about my fics and stories.

This way, those of you, who mainly know me from AO3 have the possibility to chat directly with me if you want to ;-) (but this is open for anybody, who simply wants to talk with me, I speak German and English and understand basic French and Dutch, so just go ahead and write me if you want)

The name of the blog is an homage to the fake-character Lady Loreen from my One Piece fic ‘Protecting Dreams’, in which Zoro and Mihawk come up with her to cover up that Zoro turned into a girl.

It was the first story I translated into English myself (hence is far from perfect ;-) ) and since then I have learned so much and had so much fun writing and translating several stories, and at some point I will start posting the sequel ‘Making decisions’.

For now this blog is rather empty, but it will fill up in the upcomming months and I’m so excited about this new project^^

#writing #fanfic #welcome #new beginnings #new project

[directorscutandsomeotherstuff]

A Prologue

(And welcome to Director’s Cut, the show where we find old, terrible fanfiction and try to make it better by making fun of it, and today, we’re apparently going back to the beginning. Naming these posts after the titles of the fics in question has given me some choice ones, so far. Anyway, it’s One Piece time.)

(One Piece is an anime about pirates. It’s also a show in which kick-happy chefs face off against cross dressing ballerina men and in which the greatest marksman of all time carries around a slingshot. The protagonist, a Mr. Monkey D. Luffy, (referred to in this fic as “Ruffy” because of shitty localization) ate a cursed fruit that gave his body the properties of rubber, at the cost of completely losing his ability to swim. Being a sensible and level headed sort, he immediately pulled up tent stakes and made the harrowing journey from his island home to the mainland, where his eccentric powers made him a valued and much beloved member of his community. Actually, no. He became a pirate. On the ocean. Setting out for adventure on a rowboat. You’d think I’d be mad, but honestly, the show ran with that level of insane stupidity all throughout, giving it a charming level of absurdity that I can’t help but smile at.)

(Which brings us neatly to our author for today, Shaoli. Shaoli has decided to grace us with a fanfiction appropriately titled “A Prologue.” According to the description, there was never any real intention of making anything beyond it. I guess they just wanted practice? Who knows? Let’s get down to business.)

"My hat!!!" It was a cry the crew of the Goin' Merry heard several times a day. A tattered straw sun-hat bounced like a ball of tumbleweed across the swaying deck, driven swiftly by a lively breeze. (Why its owner didn’t think to use string or otherwise fasten it on board a ship powered by the wind was anyone’s guess.) Bouncing along right behind and grappling for both hat and foothold was the ship's captain, a most unlikely figure, a spindly youth with wild hair and wilder eyes. (The return of young Willem DaFoe. He sure was popular among early 00′s fanfic writers, eh?) "Ruffy!!!" That was also a cry heard several times a day, aimed this time at the scrambling, screaming persuer of the straw hat. (As opposed to all the other times, when it was leveled at the other people named Ruffy.) Ruffy had just barrelled past the Merry's most unusual feature, Nami's tangerine garden. Nami herself had been kneeling in the soft soil, pruning the lower branches of the largest bush. Leaping up and reaching with an arm that seemed, just for the slightest moment, too long for his smallish frame, the captain had nicked a bright orange fruit from that bush, sending leaves, branches and several ripe tangerines flying in the backlash from his wild grab, some battering an enraged Nami, others falling toward a figure reclined on the deck below (who was resting, with the air normally reserved for decadent aristocrats, like a boss, and this is not an attempt, on my part, to double down on the longest sentence in history, which is this sentence, that you’re reading, at this very moment). Zoro had long learned to sleep through all the ship's common commotions, but a spattering of ripe fruit in the face was quite another matter. The crew's only swordsman winced as the mildly acid juice trickled off his stiff green hair and stung his eyes. Grumbling a vague curse, (”Ah... some kind of shit from, like, an animal or what the fuck ever. I don’t care.”) Zoro scrubbed the offending liquid from his face and watched with a resigned air as Ruffy continued his hat chase. Breath coming hard through his nose (ah... um, no. Sorry. Now is definitely not the time to do my usual “twist somebody’s awkward phrasing into something funny” shtick. That’d just be nasty.) and a large tangerine crammed into his mouth, Ruffy's fingers closed around the rim of his hat just as it went over the rail at starboard quarter, the momentum slamming him into the rail itself. The youth's jaws clamped shut at the impact, and he was left with a mouthful of bitter, fragrant rind as the rest of the tangerine plummeted into the churning sea. "Aargh! No!" It was no idle protest the boy made, (after all, scurvy was an omnipresent problem aboard pirate ships, and the loss of any citrus flesh was a tragedy.) as this time his right arm did stretch many times its normal length, like so much chewed bubblegum, plunging into the water in pursuit of the fruit. The arm came up two seconds later with a vicious fanged fish gnawing at the end of it, and its owner in another screaming fit. (”Dammit!” screamed the owner of the vicious fanged fish. “You leave Chumblebutts alone, you hooligan! Can’t you see he needs that tangerine more than you do?”) Nami continued to prune, and Zoro curled up where he was, fighting a vague and creeping sense of despair which disappeared with his fist snore. The door to the ship's cabin swung open, and an irate voice carrying a vaguely french accent drifted out. "What in heck is going on out there?"  The voice's only reply was a howl as the captain sped past the garden again, hat restored on his head and a fish with needle spines and bulging eyes and huge teeth at the end of one arm. (”Ruffy!” the owner of the fish continued, “Just hold still! All you’re doing is freaking Chumblebutts out even more!) As Ruffy wrestled with the rabid fish on the deck, a trail of smoke wafted its way out of the cabin door, followed by the ship's cook, a blond-haired young fellow with a cigarette clamped between his teeth, who took a moment to adjust his tie and to smile adoringly at Nami, (which he did literally every time he ever saw Nami ever, at least according to fanfic writers.) who ignored him, before turning to frown at his captain's undignified thrashing. With a sigh, he began to make his way over the rail, when a skinny figure elbowed past him, clambering onto the wooden beam. "I'll save you, Captain!" It was Ussop, youngest of the crew next to Ruffy, and the ship's best gunman and carpenter (in that he was the only one who did those things on the crew of about five or six. It wasn’t exactly stiff competition.). Standing astride the beam, he snapped his prized goggles into place, and, taking aim with his slingshot, released his homemade bullet with an unneccessary flourish. (”Rubber Band of Doom!” he cried, smirking as the rubber band bounced harmlessly off the fish. He then fired something actually useful.) Ruffy, who had been thumping his stubborn little attacker repeatedly on the floor, looked up just as the shot connected with the source of his--present--distress, and engulfed the fish, as well as Ruffy's arm, in a ball of yellow flame.

(And then the Going Merry went entirely up in flames. The tangerine bushes, especially. The crew all drowned. The End.) The fire lasted merely seconds, and Ruffy emerged only slightly singed. (Seriously? All these attempts at slapstick, and a fishy fireball just gets “Oh, and Ruffy gets first degree burns, whatever?” It’s a fishy fireball, man! Embrace it!)  Now he sat calmly munching on his former assailiant, which had been fried to a crisp, as the rest of the crew (save the still-snoozing Zoro) milled about the ship, making adjustments to the sail, the wind having picked up again after a brief lull. "I don't like the look of this weather," called Nami to no one in particular, basket of gardening tools in one hand as she scanned the sky. "We'll see a storm within the hour." No one questioned this suggestion, clear as the sky seemed. Nami was never wrong.  "Sanji, get the tarp for my garden, will you? The rest of you keep the sails up for now, we need to make as much headway as possible before the storm hits." "Yes, my love!" was the cook's giddy reply as he descended obediently into the hatch to get the plastic covering Nami requested. Ruffy tossed the remains of the unforunate sea creature, mere bone picked completely clean, overboard, and wondered about dinner as he went to help Ussop with the rigging. The rising wind was whipping the skinny sharpshooter around the pole as he tussled with the ropes, doing a maypole dance with the mast without ever touching the ground. Zoro snored.

(The owner of the vicious fanged fish gathered up the bones of his precious baby. Beaten, burned, and thrown to the sharks. And for what? Citrus? Truly, a pirate’s greed knew no bounds. He sank beneath the waves, muttering dark promises of revenge for his beloved Chumblebutts.) ******************************************* The green-haired swordsman awoke with a sneeze. Rain fell like a translucent curtain from the black sky, sloshing about the deck and drenching him in salty cold. He sighed. There had to be some sort of cure for this ridiculous habit of his. He'd sleep through anything if he felt no threat in his immediate surroundings. (This made Zoro notoriously vulnerable to ninjas, diseases, and farts of the silent, but decidedly deadly variety.) Usually it was on board the Merry. The only other time in his life he'd had such unguarded comfort was back at the dojo; back home. Zoro had to smile as he picked himself off the deck and squelched towards the cabin. Home was here now! He grinned wider at the thought. He liked life simple, and thus he strove to keep it so. Running into Ruffy had been an accident. Life had never beem more exciting, (Special attack! Life Excitement Beem! PREEEOW!) and at the same time, so wonderfully uncomplicated.  One never could depend on circumstance for simplicity, not with a name known across the two seas; not with a price big enough to purchase a small village on your head. (Being wanted by the government was the best way of keeping life simple.) It was Ruffy's path through these strange situations that never wavered from its certain course: beat up the bad guy, and aid the helpless. His sharp hearing picked up the sound of a voice over the hammering rain, and Zoro cast a glance toward the ship's bow. Outlined against the storm- darkened sky was (the owner of the vicious fanged fish, sword drawn and murder in his eyes. Zoro sprung into action, a sword in each hand and a third clenched between his teeth, and began a fight that would surely make for much more interesting reading. However, we choose instead to focus on) the captain and his straw hat, sitting on the ram figurehead at the ship's bow. Behind the figure to the right stood Nami in her yellow raincoat, shaking a finger at Ruffy whilst her other hand struggled to keep a water-proof map open and a compass upright at the same time. For no reason he could put into words, Zoro began to hum a tune he had heard in his childhood as he turned once more toward the dry comfort of the cabin (where he would clean the blood off of his blades and wonder what on earth could bring a man to such depths of hatred as he saw) . He could not quite remember the lyics, someone had wrote about his childhood hero, the kind who always beat the bad guy and got the girl, (not that Zoro would ever admit to being a Dante fanboy. The world at large did not look kindly to grown men who still played Devil May Cry.) but to him they went something like this: "And the reason that she loved him, was the reason I loved him, too. 'Coz he never wondered what was right or wrong, He just knew. He just knew..." ******************************************** "Did the devil fruit make you immune to disease, too? You'll catch a cold out here!" Nami shouted over the storm. (”Oh, and also, if you fall into the water, you’re literally dead. It’s hard enough saving a man overboard in a storm, when they don’t sink like a stone because of devil fruit powers.”) "I like sitting here!" was Ruffy's stubborn answer. The youth clung like a possum to the smiling figurehead, glaring at Nami as if he expected her to challenge him for the spot. Nami sighed, and went back to reading her map. A most curious expression flitted across Ruffy's normally wide-eyed countenance. (5/10. Could have used more ponderous ten-dollar words.) He shuffled from his precariously dangling position on the ram head, sliding down the length of the neck so that he was only about two feet away from Nami. His voice carried that innocent tone only he was capable of. "Nami, are you happy?" Nami looked up and sneezed, a corner of the map whipping her in the face and her feet and hair soaking wet despite the raincoat. (What? The map whipped her in the face, the feet, and the hair, despite her raincoat? Fucking hell, that map must be a whiz at Tekken.) "What??" was her incredulous answer. "Um..."Ruffy searched for words. For a while he didn't find any. Nami was suddenly nervous. The youth seemed a little distant for a moment, and for good measure his bright, black eyes had settled upon her face as he searched his seldom-used and not-too-extensive vocabulary. (Unlike me, the author, who bases their entire identity on the extensiveness of their vocabulary. Why, I’m indubitably loquacious, you inadequately educated varlets.) "Don't you ever leave, ok?" he chirped, leaping over her head and onto the swaying deck. "I promise never to make you cry." And he went below deck, stretching and yawning. Nami stared after her captain, and smiled. (And that was the last thing she did before the owner of the vicious fanged fish clambered over the gunwale one last time from behind her, delirious from blood-loss and seeing only one last gasp opportunity to avenge his beloved Chumblebutts.)

#Director's Cut #fanfiction #commentary #one piece #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #sanji #nami #Chumblebutts

[bidisastersanji]

At work but head only more French-learning Zoro story ideas and I can’t wait to share part two with you guys

#zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan fic #zosan fic idea #sanji x zoro #one piece zosan #zoro learns French #zoro learns French fic

[bidisastersanji]

Thanks to everyone who screamed in the tags and asked for a part two of the Roronoa “I learned French just to overhear if my crush likes men” Zoro” story. 🤡 Part one here. And a million thanks to @inoreuct for the help 🙏 You can also read it on AO3 here if you prefer. Edit: Part three here, part four here

---

"WHY ARE SWORDS WOMEN!???"  

"Calm down, Roronoa. They’re not women, they’re just a feminine word."

Zoro digs the palm of his hands into his eyes, hunching over the big dinner table in this godforsaken mansion on this godforsaken island. How had it come to this? He was supposed to be training to become the world’s greatest swordsman … and here he was. Stuck learning inanimate objects’ stupid imaginary gender and whatever the hell kind of tense “ plus-que-parfait ” (more-than-perfect) is.  

Scattered around him are French grammar, spelling and exercise books, loose papers and empty glasses of wine. Sadly, not his own. His stupid dad mentor had decided that he was banned from drinking from his private cellars until daily lessons had ended.   

Dracule Mihawk. Hawkeye. Renowned monster powerhouse, the world’s greatest swordsman, a feared warlord…is sat in reading glasses, correcting his pronunciation and teaching him the most vexing language on the planet: French.  

“Are you quite finished making a scene? I’ve stopped talking exclusively French to you for many months now. Be grateful.”   

Zoro presses his lips together tightly to keep himself from saying something he’ll regret. It wouldn’t do him or his crew any good to lose this opportunity to learn from the best. After the salt-shaker incident, Mihawk, quickly followed by Perona-who only wishes misery upon him- only responded to him if he spoke his broken French to them and would only speak to him in that tongue in return. His already impossibly difficult swords lessons… challenges? Whatever one would call the hellish training regimens the warlord put him through became even more impossible now that he couldn’t even understand the instructions. After a few too many close calls and instances of French being shouted at him louder and louder (saying it louder won’t make him magically understand), Mihawk changed tactics and decided to teach him the academic way instead, in the evenings after supper. Suppers which definitely didn’t leave him longing for someone else’s cooking.   

Supposedly surprised at his silence (with this man, there’s no way to really tell for sure what could be going through his mind), Mihawk lowers his glasses and takes a long look at him. “And how is your reading coming along?”  

Seated across from him and eating her dessert, Perona gives a loud snort, choking a bit on her strawberry shortcake. Her ever-present floating ghosts laugh a little louder, covering her badly stifled laughter as she purses her lips.   

Zoro glares daggers at her, neck and ears flushing intensely. “It’s going… fine .”  

In reality, his reading isn’t going “fine”. The Manor’s entire west wing is filled to the brim with the most boring, coma-inducing, self-aggrandising books on philosophy, French cuisine, land management, architecture and theology, all written in chicken scratch, old timey French. Zoro had tried his hand at reading one that seemed perhaps less bad than the others, but on his tenth try at staying awake on reading the third page describing the gothic stone arches of a church- he gave up. It felt more painstaking to spend one more second looking at another page of that book than getting sliced open by Mihawk so many months ago.   

In the pits of his désespoir, his guard was down, and his alarm bells didn’t ring when Perona innocently approached him and handed him a book that looked markedly different from the rest of Mihawk’s collection. At a second glance, he realized that he’d seen that book on Sanji’s hammock-side barrel before, recognizing the distinctive lettering of “Harlequin editions” on the spine.  

“Here. I’m taking pity on you. Mihawk has a secret stash of these in his personal library. They’re easier to read and will get the job done. You need to meet a quota of one a week, right?”  

Out of options, Zoro silently accepted the book and retreated to his quarters. If it was good enough for the cook (and Perona?), it would be good enough for him.   

His suspicions should have risen from the moment he recognised it was a work of fiction- unlike every single book he’d come across here. But no , studious mindset activated and with a dictionary on hand for any word he might not know, it took him longer than he’d care to admit to realise this was a romance book. And not just any romance book- a ludicrously explicit book detailing many, many scandalous trysts between a dark, mysterious, broody vampire and his parade of beautiful, lithe and oh-so-flirtatious nobles of all genders. He had to stop and put the book down several times, too flustered from explicit descriptions of passionately taking people against cold stone walls, bending them over various pieces of antique furniture and even tying them to extravagant four poster beds. It was too much for the poor swordsman to handle.  

It was mainly the thought of the pervy cook reading this… it stirred something low within him, his thoughts running wild at the natural implication that the scenarios held within the worn pages- the rough, possessive, teasing, kinky and playful sexual acts- were all things that Sanji had read. And enjoyed. Multiple times if his memory served him right. Sanji owned this book, which meant that this was something that… aroused him. Face like a furnace and heart beating wildly, Zoro tugged at his hair, unable to cope with this new information nor the inappropriate thoughts and images his mind was conjuring involving a certain sharp-tongued blonde, his powerful thighs and unfairly biteable neck. He could almost see his fiery blue eye boring adversarially into his own, a cheeky smirk that was just begging to be kissed off-   

Zoro snapped the book shut.  

Fuck .  

After an uncomfortably sweaty night and a glacial shower, it was only at breakfast that further implications finally clicked for the rattled swordsman. The lewd book had come, as Perona had put it, from Mihawk’s secret stash .   

One: the book was Mihawk’s. That dawning realisation alone froze Zoro mid-chew, and he decided then and there that he would never be able to look the older man in the eye ever again. At least not in the same way.   

I know what you are   

It wasn’t difficult to make the connection between the book’s owner, a pale, recluse, wine drinking man in a manor and the book’s main vampire. Two: this was from a stash . Meaning there would be many, many more of these books in the manor. Three, because of the nature of his mentor’s “official” library (unreadable), he will de facto have to keep reading bodice-rippers for well over a year and inevitably assimilate the raunchiest, most useless lexicon known to man, in what some people call the language of love. Wonderful. Despite himself, Zoro knew he’d already memorized at least three different ways to refer to male genitalia, and that was just from reading one of those little fuckers.  

Weeks, months pass, and boy had Zoro been right. And annoyingly, so had Mihawk, on how reading would drastically improve his French. (If Robin could see him now…) The smutty books came and went, courtesy of Perona, and his reliance on his dictionary diminished. As the books’ premises plunged deeper and deeper into unspeakable domains, Zoro made the firm decision to stop asking questions. For the sake of his sanity. He never again wanted Perona to share her thoughts on the "thematic beauty of the monster fucker genre". He would never fully recover from the hour-long exposé she made him on ABO dynamics. Nor could he ever recover from the knowledge that all these novels came from Dracule Mihawk’s private library .   

He now knew way too much about Mihawk's kinks and sexual tastes in men, and he wished to believe in a god so he could pray to never have to address this with the man within his life. Ever.  

Which is why he's currently sweating bullets at Mihawk's inquiry into his latest reads, and why Perona is looking at him like the cat that ate the canary.   

Eyes darting between his two guests, the warlord's lips tug at their corners in something resembling a smile.   

"I take it you haven't found the sword fighting books yet then?"  

The what.   

Zoro promptly chokes on his saliva, coughing aggressively into his fist, his remaining eye bulging in surprise.  

"Yes, did Perona not tell you? All the baking books in the French cuisine section actually hold sword forms and techniques. My boy, what have you been reading?"   

—/

Sanji had maybe had just a few too many drinks tonight. His face feels warm, his limbs are nice and relaxed- if still a bit sore from the battle- and his tongue is a little loose. He knows it's one too many when it takes him a couple of sentences to realise he and Robin are speaking French together, and he's grateful for the unconscious switch when he faintly registers that Zoro is sat not very far, by himself, just across the campfire.  

That was a close one.   

Robin prods him for more information on his one-night stands, and who is he to deny a lady, really? He feels the words spill from his mouth like boiling water overflowing from a pot. He hears his voice confess a truth he's not let himself face for years and blames the wine.  

"En vrai ce n'est pas qu'ils ne sont pas satisfaisants... c'est qu'ils ne sont jamais...assez. "   

The cook swims in half-forgotten memories of one night stands he sought out on lonely evenings at random ports. Of fumbling hands and desperate kisses, of leaving before the sun has even risen, of cold sheets and empty beds in the morning... Sanji doesn't like the bitter taste his admittance leaves in his mouth, nor the way his chest feels just a little tighter. He knows what his love-starved self really wants, what he craves most of all... is the stupidly perfect man sitting across the fire. Like a moth to a flame, he yearns to know what it would feel like. To matter . To be seen in all his flawed, weak existence, and not be thrown aside like the mistake he is. To be loved , cared for, cherished tenderly by someone as earnest and devoted as he knows the swordsman to be. It's with a bleeding heart that he finally voices his love, answering Robin on what would be enough.  

"Lui. "  

His finger taps the ash off his cigarette before taking another long, long drag. Forlorn, he tears his gaze away from Zoro and nearly startles at the sincere warmth he sees dancing in the archeologist's eyes.  

"Tu devrais lui dire ."  

(You should tell him.)  

Sanji laughs at that. "Mais bien sûr. J'vais me lever, me planter devant lui et tout lui avouer. "  

(But of course. I'll get up, walk right up to him and confess everything.)  

A beat. Robin impassively stares back at him. Sanji knows being a devil fruit eater isn't the only similarity between her and their captain. Their stubbornness is something he knows not to underestimate. He sighs and gulps the rest of his drink down. He must be out of his goddamn mind. And maybe a little drunker than he thought he was.   

"Je ne sais pas te dire non, ma chère Robin." She smiles. "Mais saches que tu n'as pas précisé dans quelle langue je devais lui parler. "  

(I don't know how to say no to you, my dear Robin. But please note that you didn't specify the language I should speak to him in.)  

Before she can charm him into switching to a language the Marimo understands, the cook is already skirting around the fire with slightly wobbly steps. If he can just keep his tone right, tinged with a bit of anger, then he can probably pull this off, he thinks.   

“You.” He points at Zoro accusingly.  

The mosshead turns to face him, an unreadable expression on his face. “Me?”   

Sanji doesn’t linger on it, all his mental capacity concentrating on making sure he uses French at the right moments.   

“Yes, you fucking ange tombé du ciel , I have some words for you. Some mots doux if you will, so just sit tight and listen. You owe me after I saved your ass earlier.”   

(Angel fallen from heaven; sweet words)  

Surprised that Zoro doesn’t contradict him on the “saving his ass” part, he doesn’t stop to think and squashes the little voice inside him that questions why he’s going through with this.  

Sanji fully planned on a heartfelt rant about all the idiot swordsman’s qualities- how unfair it is that he has it all. He really did. but he also feels a sudden shyness overtake him now that he’s standing in front of the idiot in question. To look Zoro in the eyes while saying such embarrassing, emotional shit won't do, and Sanji’s eyes make the mistake of looking down- only to be met with the tantalising sight of a broad, scarred chest and crossed arms that do nothing to hide the strong, corded muscle underneath. Oh, f uck me. His fake annoyance becomes partially real.  

"Enfoiré! comment jsuis supposé te résister, hein? "  He indignantly waves his cigarette around.  

(You bastard! How am I supposed to resist you, huh?)  

"Non mais vraiment- est ce que t’as la moindre idée de l’effet que t’as quand tu te balades torse nu sur le pont, tout dégoulinant de sueur? Ou de l’effet que les bruits que tu fait durant tes entraînements ont sur moi? J’ai qu’à fermer mes yeux et c’est- je…” he can feel his ears burning. Fuck it. Why not let it all out, he’ll feel better afterwards.  

( No, but really- do you have any idea of the effect you have when you walk shirtless on deck, dripping with sweat? Or how the noises you make during your workouts affect me? All I have to do is close my eyes and it's- I...)  

“Tu me rends fou. Après nos combats c’est si facile d’imaginer tes mains calleuses m’aggrippant possessivement, ta peau salée sur ma langue, ton torse haletant d’effort, ton regard enflammé -”   

( You drive me crazy. After our fights it's so easy to imagine your calloused hands gripping me possessively, your salty skin on my tongue, your torso panting with effort, your fiery gaze -)  

Still sat in front of Sanji, Zoro’s face is turning red and he’s shooting Sanji a heated look, no doubt irritated about being ranted at in French. Tough shit. Sanji wasn’t done.  

“T’es si favorisé par les dieux, je suis même sûr que ta bite est énorme. Et puis si tu savais ce que je te laisserais me faire- ” he rolls his eyes and snorts, hoping the exasperation part of his rant is convincingly coming through.  

(You're so favoured by the gods, I'm pretty sure you even have a huge dick. And if you knew what I'd let you do to me-)  

Zoro’s mouth parts in shock, and a small anxious thought crosses Sanji’s mind- but there’s absolutely no way in hell the shitty mosshead knows French. He would sooner know his left from his right.  

“Dis moi.” (Tell me.)  

“Tell you what, stupid marimo-” it takes a couple of seconds for the cook to comprehend what just happened, and a strangled noise crawls its way out of his throat. Everything comes to a halt, his world crumbles down. Oh no. Oh no .  

Zoro rises to his feet and steps into his space, a dangerously sinful grin across his face. At this point Sanji’s brain has fully stopped working, and it’s all he can do to gape stupidly back at him, face redder than it’s ever been.  

“Dis moi. ” he repeats, voice low and so foreign sounding as it tries to replicate the right intonation of Sanji’s mother tongue. “Ou si tu préfères je peux te dire ce que je voudrais bien te faire, moi.”   

( Tell me. Or if you prefer, I can tell you what I'd like to do to you.)  

Warm blood bursts forth from Sanji’s nose, and his world turns black. 

#zosan fic #zoro x sanji #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #sanji x zoro #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #writing the mihawk part was just so fun #as requested Zoro speaks french to sanji and oh boi #one piece zosan #please let me know if you liked it! im so self conscious of my french haha

[bidisastersanji]

Just published chapter 3 for the "Zoro learns french" story on AO3 if anyone's interested! Or you can read it right here (part 1, part 2, part 4) and under the cut:

“Sanjiiiiii,” the little doctor wails as he goes through the familiar motions of treating Sanji’s blood loss. “Who did this to you??” He sniffles loudly. “There are no mermaids here! I thought you were over this!” 

Next to him, Luffy absentmindedly picks his nose- seemingly amused by the situation- as the handful of straw hats gathered in the med bay whisper conspiratorially amongst themselves. What could have possibly caused the cook to pass out from a nosebleed?

Arms crossed under his chest, Zoro’s eye flits nervously to Robin’s and is unsurprisingly met with her ever impassive and mysterious smile, which he notes reach her eyes. She most likely heard everything, Zoro figures. Probably even popped one of her ears near them to hear better. Fuck, this was such a mess. He swallows hard, his mind still racing with the explicit thoughts Sanji had drunkenly admitted to. Not to mention the long-awaited confirmation that he has indeed been sleeping with men at various ports. So maybe learning French had come in handy. He’d never tell Mihawk though. 

“Et puis si tu savais ce que je te laisserais me faire- ” Sanji’s sultry words echo in his mind and Zoro’s ears feel dangerously warm at the memory. He really shouldn’t let himself imagine just what the cook would ‘let him do to him’. Fighting the unconscious impulse to screw his eye shut and shake this off, he follows Chopper’s movements in an attempt to distract himself from the lewd images he’s conjuring. He’s honestly surprised at the self-control he displayed earlier. He was so close to just yanking him by his stupid necktie, kissing him silly, locking his sinfully strong thighs around his hips and carrying him back to bed right then and there, the others be damned.  

He can still feel a tightness in his shoulder muscles from the restraint it took to just sit there and listen to the man’s rant. Before he can dwell any more on his struggle, he’s thankfully interrupted by the sound of Chopper speaking up cheerfully, seemingly satisfied with his work. 

“Sanji will be ok- he actually didn’t lose that much blood. Relatively. I think his training-” a snort from Usopp is quickly silenced by the doctor’s stern look. “must’ve kicked in. He should be fine by tomorrow morning; I've treated him with something that should help with his blood production.” 

The crew, happy to learn their cook will recover just fine, file out of the room to rejoin the festivities, and Zoro does his best to linger just a little longer to peek at the blonde’s soft curls and endearing sleeping face. And if a little bit of pride swells in his chest from knowing he’s the cause of this nosebleed, well...no one will know.  

He’s barely out of the room when he finds himself cornered by Nami. Damnit. 

“I know Sanji was with you when this happened.” the redhead gives him a serious, pointed look. 

Zoro scowls. ‘Yeah, and?” 

“And???” her hands fly, up, exasperated. “What happened?” 

“None of your business, witch.” 

“Oh? And I suppose your debt is none of my business too, you big brute? You wouldn’t mind me adding to it for insubordination, would you?” 

At the mention of his ever-growing debt to the navigator, Zoro’s left gaping down at her, mouth silently forming words in anger. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll get me back for this, I’m the worst, blah blah blah.” Her eyes roll and her hands gesture him to move along. “Now tell me what happened. What could’ve possibly triggered Sanji’s nosebleed?” her eyes momentarily flit down to his chest and her lips curl to the side in a little smirk. 

“Unless... no, your tits are always out. Just tell me what happened, and I’ll take 0.5% off your debt.” 

Zoro sighs and relents. “I didn’t do much, he’s the one who came up to me and started screaming at me in French.” 

Nami stares him down with an unimpressed look. “And then...?” 

“And then I just answered him, and he passed out.” he grumbles out petulantly. 

“That’s so weird- wait. What do you mean you ‘answered him’?” brown eyes narrow at him. “In French?” 

“...yeah.” 

“...you speak French?” 

“Oui.” 

Pain flares on his head from the navigator’s swift punch. She has no sense of humour, damn. 

“Stop fucking around. Why would you of all people know how to speak French?” 

“You don’t believe me?!” he tries to keep his indignant scream as low as he can. 

“No- I’m saying that you wouldn’t go through the trouble of learning a language unless there was something in it for you- so there’s gotta be someth-” Nami comes to a realisation, and her eyebrows raise in shock, giving Zoro an appraising look. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Shut up.” 

“You-” 

“Shut up.” 

By some stroke of luck, Nami leaves the elephant in the room alone, and returns to the matter at hand. “Ok, ok, so you speak French. I can only imagine what you must’ve said to get that kind of reaction from him, though.” She runs her hand across her face, tired. 

--- 

Sanji wakes up and is immediately blinded by the sun shining through the window. Ugh. He groans at the dull, pounding feeling behind his eyes and turns to his side to hide from the offending light. He’d definitely had too much to drink last night. 

He snorts into the pillow. He’d drunk so much he’d either dreamed or hallucinated that Zoro could speak French. Wow. His unfiltered imagination really went wild, didn’t it. He can almost hear the seductive words dripping like sex from dream Zoro’s lips, the rough timber of his voice causing a shiver to shoot up his spine and- 

A distinctive, sterile smell cuts through his train of thought. 

Wait. 

Is this the infirmary?  

He cracks open an eye, confirming his theory. This is the med bay all right. He groggily sits up, blanket falling from his torso, and catches a stain on his usually pristine white shirt from the corner of his eye. His chin drops to get a better look. Is that... blood? 

His blood. He’s had this happen enough times to recognise the results of a nosebleed. Grumbling, he throws his legs over the bed to stand up, annoyed at the prospect of having to scrub the stain out of his good shirt, when it finally hits him. The moment his feet touch the floor, the evening and his current predicament suddenly click together and bring his thoughts of hydrogen peroxide and baking powder to a screeching halt. 

A beat passes. 

Like a rubber band stretched tight, a myriad of thoughts is catapulted to the forefront of his mind, jumbling together in a mess of realisations. Zoro speaks French. Zoro sounds unfairly sexy when he does. How long has he spoken French. Where did he even learn it. Zoro probably overheard his conversation with Robin. Zoro understood the filthy things he told him. To his face. Zoro flirted with him. 

His face burns even brighter at the memory of that last one. Oh god. He even called his dick “big” right to his face. 

Well-versed in burying his feelings deep deep down (years of practice), Sanji staggers through his usual morning routine. Once back in the comfort of his kitchen, his hands go into autopilot mode as he preps for a big healthy brunch to revive his nakama from a long night of festivities. 

It takes him a second longer than usual to notice the creak of the door as someone walks into the kitchen, and he doesn’t bother turning around to see who it is, too busy trying to catch up on his cooking schedule from his late rise. Luffy will be up soon, and he needs to satiate the black hole that is his captain’s stomach. 

“Oi. Tu cuisines quoi.”  

(Oi, what’re you cooking.) 

“J’prépare un brunch bien gras. Je suis sûr que ça soulagera la gueule de bois collective.” Sanji absentmindedly answers the annoying swordsman. Tch. Always up in his business.  

(I'm cooking a greasy brunch. I'm sure it will help relieve the collective hangover.)  

“Ça sent bon. Je peux goûter?” (It smells good. Can I taste?) 

The mosshead’s gorilla arm comes into view from over his shoulder as he reaches to dip his hand into the batter Sanji’s whipping up, and the cook slaps his hand away and heavily crushes his foot without even breaking his rhythm.  

“Non. Bas les pattes.” 

(No. Paws off.) 

Zoro makes a disgruntled noise and properly steps up next to him, leaning his back against the counter. From his peripheral vision, Sanji notes him standing there, head turned towards him, looking at him cooking. Just looking. Odd behaviour for a marimo.  

Minutes pass before the swordsman’s voice interrupts the rhythmic sound of Sanji’s cooking, saving him from the panicked screaming in his mind: They’re speaking French. Zoro’s clumsy pronunciation is the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Why are they acting like this is normal. Why is he standing so close. And are they ever going to address what happened last night? All this stops at the sound of: 

“Et toi, je peux te goûter?” (And you, can I taste you?) 

Sanji’s breath hitches and he feels a warmth creep up his spine, to his neck, his ears, and all the way to the top of his head. He’s going to implode.  

Where did he learn to say that. He hears himself squeak out that very question, eyes looking down at the bowl of batter, pointedly ignoring the other man’s heated gaze. 

Zoro's deep voice rumbles in a low chuckle. “Ça ne répond pas à ma question. Ni à celle de hier soir.” 

(That doesn’t answer my question. Nor last night’s question.) 

Callused fingers suddenly grip his chin, and now he’s face to face with Zoro, who to Sanji’s surprise is sporting a dangerously tender expression, his hand moving up to cup his cheek. His voice is softer, this time. 

“Dis moi.” (Tell me) 

His chest aches. “Tell you what?”  

Sanji doesn’t like the vulnerability voicing his feelings in French makes him feel. It’s so much easier to revert to his usual abrasiveness. Safer. “I already told you how you drive me up the wall. What, do you want me to embarrass myself further by telling you how badly I’ve wanted you?” 

An expectant eye stares back at him. Patient. Silent. 

The blonde huffs and raises his flour-dusted hand to the one Zoro is gently cupping his face with. “You’re the most infuriating person I’ve ever met. Do you have any idea the self-control it takes to not just -“ he feels a tightness in his throat - he didn’t think it would be so hard to actually say it- “de ne pas te dire tous les jours combien je t’aime?” 

(-to not tell you every day how much I love you?) 

He blinks and Zoro’s lips are on his, soft and delicately pressing against his own like he could break at any moment. And boy does he feel like he could. He immediately starts pushing back, angling his head just so to deepen the kiss, melting from the sheer tenderness, his fingers still gripping Zoro’s hand where it lays, rough calluses against his soft skin.  

They briefly part for air but Zoro immediately dives back in like a man starved, tugging the cook by his hips to stand between his legs, and the blonde has to bite back a moan at the manhandling. Sanji’s arms loop around his neck and find purchase in his ridiculous green hair. 

-- 

Zoro will never get enough of kissing this man. It’s simply too intoxicating, and perfect, and everything he’s ever wanted. Which is why it’s with great reluctance that he retreats from this slice of heaven, if only to make sure his own intentions are clear. He can’t believe the bastard beat him to it. He’d walked in here with a plan to test the waters and flirt back- get a little revenge on the blonde from the way he made his brain short circuit the previous night. Maybe test out a few phrases he’d learned in those Harlequin books the pervy cook loves so much. What happened instead was so much better. 

He’s glad to be propped up against the counter because his knees feel weak at the raw, exposed emotion on Sanji’s face when he tells him–  

“Je t’aime.” 

A radiant smile. A wet laugh through misty eyes.  

“Imbécile.” (Idiot) 

The man buries his face in his neck and presses him close in an intimate embrace, holding tight at the back of his shirt. Zoro’s chest swells with love and he holds him back just at tightly, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back. 

“Ton imbécile.” (Your idiot.) 

#zoro x sanji #zosan fic #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #one piece zosan #zosan #hope you guys like emotions #black leg sanji #roronoa zoro #with a dash of my favourite thing #nosebleed sanji

[bidisastersanji]

IT IS HERE! the filthy french smut epilogue of the Zoro learns French story is here. Get it right here on this hellsite (ch.1 ch.2 , ch.3 and below) or straight from the source on AO3. Thank you to everyone who comments or screams in the tags you absolutely give me life

Special shoutout to @jooqlz for their wonderful art inspired by the story I'm still not over that check it out right here: (pt 1 & 2, pt 3, pt 4, pt 5)

And without further ado, please do not ever perceive me after reading this absolute filth. thank you.

--

Sanji had always been a very handsome man. A man so distractingly handsome that Zoro had to put effort into not noticing certain...things about the cook, effort to keep his eyes from wandering to dangerous places that would unfailingly leave him wanting and ears pink from the lecherous thoughts swirling between them. He’d retreat to the crow’s nest and train his impulses away, hoping that the heavy weights and burning muscles would ground him back into a relaxed, meditative state. 

It was the hypnotising way his fingers danced, so elegant and long when working in the galley- he simply couldn’t tear his eyes off them when they handled his impeccably sharp knives- or how deliciously taut and strong his calves and thighs would feel against him as they sparred. More than once had Zoro woken up breathless, drenched in sweat, uncomfortably hard and blinking away the vestiges of a dream where those deadly legs had been wrapped tight around him. There was just something so enticing about the resounding power emanating from Sanji- his mind going haywire from the knowledge that this man could handle him, meet him blow for blow all while cheekily throwing taunts and insults in his face. 

It was also how beautifully free his form looked when he jumped above him in a skywalk, the way his ocean blue eyes would crinkle when he laughed at the crews’ antics and how his soft blonde curls would catch the sun sometimes. Those moments were possibly harder for him to get out of his system, leaving him with both a heavy and fluttering sensation in his chest. 

And his ass. Oh fuck, his ass.  

Zoro was an ass man through and through: he’d sailed up and down the Grand Line and had never seen anything else like it. The cook’s proclivity for crisp, tailored suits that stretched decadently across his backside with every kick made it impossible to ignore. So many times had he been dangerously close to just reaching out and grabbing it. Fingers tensing at the primal urge to know how they would fit, would feel in his hands, it fanned the flames of an ever-growing heat in the pit of his stomach. Those perfect, round mounds of muscle just out of reach, teasing him whenever the cook bent over to retrieve something in a low cupboard or when he’d catch a glimpse of their bare pallor in the baths. No wonder he didn’t spend much time on hygiene- Sanji always took his damned time in there, and he wasn’t a glutton for punishment. 

The blonde also had a rather elegant neck, just begging to be kissed. To be fair, there was nary an inch of Sanji that Zoro didn’t think of kissing. For so long had Zoro fantasized about just tugging him by his tie or the lapels of his jacket to shut him up nicely, tasting his nicotine-stained lips. Which he had the pleasure of doing right now.  

Finally. 

He’d imagined this a hundred- no, a thousand times over, but it still didn’t compare to actually holding the beautiful man pressed against his body and hearing him let out positively sinful little whines of pleasure as they hurriedly kissed in the Sunny’s unoccupied first mate’s quarters.  

Brunch had been a rowdy affair as usual, with Zoro buzzing for it to be over as soon as possible, knowing the cook wouldn’t be able to relax until everyone had had their fill. 

The wait was worth it, he thinks to himself as one of his hands slithers its way down from Sanji’s flushed cheeks, enjoying the soft little exhales he lets out as his hand caresses down his neck, his chest, his narrow waist, his lower back, finally settling on his perfectly round butt. He pulls Sanji in even closer- the other man’s growing arousal poking against his thigh, firm and warm through the fabric separating them. Zoro treats himself to the enticing thought of that heat in his mouth but is quickly distracted by the fingers the cook had threaded into his short hair suddenly tightening, the pleasing pulling sensation on his scalp shooting down his neck like a shiver.  

Fuck. That feels good.  

Zoro can’t fight the needy groan that rips out of his throat at finally getting his hands on the cook’s ass, and his other hand quickly joins it, happily palming and squeezing it, fortuitously causing some delicious friction between their legs. He drops his head into the crook of Sanji’s neck, overwhelmed by the all-encompassing need coursing through his veins. Need to feel skin flush with skin. Need to make this man come undone and cry his name, over and over. This was a long time coming. 

“J-J’ai envie de toi...” he stumbles a bit on the delivery, the foreign words still unfamiliar on his kiss-swollen lips. (I-I want you...) 

Pressed up close, he doesn’t miss the high-pitched moan that Sanji tries to swallow down before he feels himself get tugged up by his hair, his eye brought back to level with the cook’s own. Maybe it’s the gratifying sting of his hair being pulled some more, or maybe it’s the heavy-lidded, wanton look that Sanji gives him, but he feels a shiver run across his skin. Nervously, the blonde’s pink tongue darts out to wet his lower lip, catching the swordsman’s eye. 

“Comment me veux-tu, abruti?” (How do you want me, moron?) 

Zoro honestly could go either way, but something in him stirs at Sanji’s provocativeness, and the following words spill out of him, words he’d have never said with a straight face before his run-in with a certain type of French literature.  

“Je-” his voice comes out raspy, deep. “Je te veux...plié en deux sur ce lit me suppliant de te prendre,” he starts, and Sanji’s breath hitches, his hand dropping to grip at Zoro’s shirt, steadying himself.  

“que tu te serves de tes satanées cuisses pour te bercer contre moi.” Zoro grins, confidence growing, feral at the sight of a lone drop of blood oozing from Sanji’s nose. “Et quand tu seras assez désespéré, je veux te faire jouir jusqu'à ce que ta voix se brise.” 

(I want you... bent in half on the bed, begging me to take you, using your damned thighs to rock yourself against me. And once you’re desperate enough, I want to make you come until your voice breaks.)  

He can almost feel Sanji’s brain short circuit in front of him. Things are a blur after that. It’s a race of getting each other out of their stifling garments, the singing relief of skin-to-skin contact, desperate kisses, nips, bites and nails pressing deep into Zoro’s biceps as he works the pliant man under him open with two lubed-up fingers. 

They’re both on the bed now, Zoro holding himself up over the writhing blonde, hair a sweaty, curly mess in a beautiful halo around his head and his legs hooked in a vice-like grip around his torso, arms wrapped around his neck. The messy, pleasured noises Sanji makes are positively obscene, shooting straight to his dick, and it’s taking all his concentration to focus on rubbing up against his sweet spot, just enough to drive the cook crazy but slowing down every time he can feel him clench hard, getting closer to the precipice. 

“Enfoiré! Si tu-” (Bastard! If you-)  

Sanji’s impassioned rant at Zoro edging him is immediately cut short by a third finger pressing against his rim, and he eagerly presses his hips up into the pleasant stretch of Zoro’s thick fingers spreading him even more, eyes screwing shut. 

“Mnh! Yesss,” he purrs into the swordsman’s ear. 

A wet heat envelops his earlobe and his three earrings chime against each other as Sanji decides to play with his them. Head foggy with lust, Zoro wonders how Sanji was so easily able to find this weak spot of his, his hand’s pace stuttering and slowing down at the sensual licks against his sensitive ear. 

“S-shitty cook-” 

“Bet you can’t say that in French,” Sanji coyly challenges him, a hot whisper in his ear. 

Zoro times his answer with a couple of sharper thrusts, making Sanji cry out at the onslaught against his prostate. “Cuistot de merde,” Sanji can probably hear his smugness in his voice. “What, you don’t think that’s one of the first things I asked to learn?” 

“You- hnng! You fucker, even in French you don’t call me a proper chef!” 

Zoro chuckles and decides this is a good time as any to still his fingers once more. Angry, needy eyes with blown out pupils crack open to stare deeply into his own. He takes the moment to wipe away the blood under Sanji’s nose and licks it, the metallic taste coating his tongue beautifully. 

“Fine. If that’s how it is.” The stubborn cook leverages his legs’ hold on him to fuck himself onto Zoro’s fingers. He slowly builds himself up again, simultaneously rocking on the swordsman’s hand and stroking his length with his own, and it’s not long before his eyes flutter close in concentration, chasing his release, brow damp with sweat. 

Zoro makes a little strangled noise, dumbstruck by how stupidly good he looks taking his fingers, how hot and swollen his dick is, and how the obscene wet noises and hypnotising dance of his hips are making the tip of his cock leak against his stomach. Why wasn’t he fucking him into the mattress again? 

Sanji’s breathless voice cuts through the fog. “You happy? ‘this what you wanted, mosshead?” 

Ah, right. He remembered now. “Close. I said I’d make you beg for it, curly.” 

“Fuck. You wouldn’t dare. Not again.” Sanji’s free hand shoots down to try and stop his thick wrist from pulling away. 

“I would.” 

Sanji makes a choked, desperate sound at the feeling of Zoro's hand starting its slow retreat, a small litany of ‘nos’ dropping from his lips as he once again feels his orgasm get away, his practiced hand stroking his dick not nearly enough to get him there at this point.  

Adorable. Zoro hears his blood roar in his ears at the sight, making a point to burn the cook’s desperate look into his memory. He’s aching to be inside him at this point, but unless he hears the magic word, he’ll keep holding himself back. 

After a few more fruitless pumps, head thrown back, Sanji seemingly makes up his mind. “Please,” he sobs. 

Zoro’s three fingers immediately resume their movements with purpose, pressing perfectly against Sanji on each powerful thrust. The swordsman is positively transfixed by the sight of the sweaty, flushed and desperate man before him, the shaky moans and gasps egging him on, driving him into a frenzy as he builds him up once more. 

-- 

Sanji felt dizzy with want after having been denied so many times. First, the stupid brute short-circuited his brain by whispering those filthy things to him with his cute stupid little accent, and then had the gall to call him a cuistot, and fuck! 

He honestly can’t even form a coherent thought at this point. He can only feel. His body is so strung-up and buzzing with pent-up pleasure, the mind-numbingly good stretch and press of Zoro’s fingers inside him and the stuttering jerks of his fist around his cock are all that his world have boiled down to, and nothing short of a buster call can stop him from coming into his lover’s arms. 

Distantly, he feels Zoro ghost his lips over his collarbone, whispering dirty nothings to him, licking up his throat, kissing his jaw... How dare he be so stupidly attentive, so good, so- 

“MMmn!” He bites down on his lip, hard. 

Sanji comes, dissolving into pleasure, rippling, splintering heat rushing through his body, muscles pulled tight as Zoro keeps working him through wave after wave, kissing his temple and holding him close as spurts of his cum stain their stomachs. He faintly registers that the moans and repeated cries of Zoro’s name and yes, more, please, right there are his own voice, but he’s too far gone to care. 

Once he’s semi lucid again, he loosens his legs’ death grip on the man’s torso, idly wondering if bruises will bloom there overnight. Chest still heaving, he opens his eyes and is met with a sight he’s sure to never forget. Zoro’s wild look of pure, unadulterated hunger as he licks a drop of his cum from his fingers would make his knees buckle if he were standing, and knowing he’s like this- a panting, flushed and sweaty mess because of him makes Sanji preen with pride. He’s barely even touched the man. 

Speaking of, he finally gets his hands on the broad, scarred chest he’s itched to grope oh so many times, letting his thumb experimentally start teasing a nipple. He drags his eyes down and wets his lips at the sight before him. He’d been right. Zoro truly has it all, and he can feel himself stirring again already. 

“Like what you see?” 

In lieu of an answer, Sanji reaches down and wraps his long, deft fingers at the base of the swordsman’s wonderful girth, earning him a little hiss of pleasure as he starts lazily gliding up and down the velvety heat. 

“Que veux tu mon grand?” his voice comes out hoarser than he expected, and the cook revels in Zoro’s nearly predatory gaze and the hitch in his breath. 

(What do you want, big boy?) 

“Mes mains?” His strokes get more precise, faster, taking care to rub the head just right. 

(My hands?) 

Zoro groans, and Sanji’s pink tongue darts out to lick his lips, smiling devilishly as he calls for the marimo’s attention there. “Mes lèvres?” (My lips?) 

“Ou...” he trails off and guides the aching, leaking length to his entrance, giving a little teasing wiggle of his hips.  

(Or...) 

The dark expression on Zoro’s face is absolutely intoxicating. His callused hand grips Sanji’s hip and pushes up, wordlessly encouraging the cook to flip onto his front. Still a little blissed out, Sanji grins and complies and positions himself on his hands and knees. The blonde watches over his shoulder as the swordsman reaches for more lube, lathering a generous amount onto his cock before aligning himself with Sanji again, kneeling at the edge of the bed. 

Feeling a little vulnerable, Sanji can’t help teasing his lover. “C’est pour aujourd’hui ou pour demain?” 

(Are you gonna do it this century?) 

And then Zoro presses into him and oh fuck- the stretch of each thick inch sinking into him is a divine mix of pain and pleasure that steals his breath away. The swordsman's’ grip is bruising on his hips, evidently doing his best to let Sanji get used to him before he loses control. 

A few moments later he must hear Sanji’s breath even out a bit and he adjusts against him, finally burying himself to the hilt fully, hands possessively taking hold of his ass cheeks.  

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me like this,” Zoro’s words were going to be the death of him, Sanji thinks as his face burns like a furnace. He was sure of it.  

“Can I?” 

“Ye- mmn, yes go ahead,” Sanji spreads his thighs wider and braces himself on his forearms. 

He feels Zoro pulling out slowly, his fingers climbing up and digging into his slender waist, and then he’s being pulled down onto his dick once more as the man starts thrusting into him earnestly. With each slap of the man’s hips against his backside, each steady glide against his prostate, he feels so perfectly full, so good, and his toes curl when Zoro leans over and nuzzles his neck, his grunts and growls of pleasure a sweet melody he’ll never tire of hearing. 

“Tu me prends si bien...” 

(You take me so well...) 

Sanji bites the back of his hand to stifle a moan and keeps throwing his hips powerfully back against Zoro’s rutting. It feels mind-numbingly good to finally let go and be able to use his full force like this, knowing he can give as good as he’ll get. 

-- 

Zoro doesn’t think he’ll be able to last long if the cook keeps looking and sounding like that.  

Fucking hell, what a sight. His lithe, athletic form splitting itself open on each thrust, their bodies working together towards rapture, harmoniously in synch from years of sparring and fighting side by side. The swordsman briefly worries that he won’t be able to spar without getting distracted by the memory of this, of the blonde splayed out under him, back arched sensually and hands straining against the crumpled sheets. 

He’s not surprised that Sanji is a vocal lover- he expected it, has fantasised about it on some lonely nights in the crow’s nest. But he didn’t expect that each broken moan and sigh he fucks out of him would bring him closer and closer, fire pooling low in his abdomen and coursing through his veins. He straightens back up and off Sanji’s back for a better angle and oh no, that was a mistake. He groans. He’s once again met with the tantalising sight of his dick burying itself in Sanji’s ass, again and again, a small ripple dancing across the tempting flesh to the rhythm of his punishing pace. 

“Fuck” 

He slides his right hand around to take hold of Sanji’s dick, and Sanji melts at his touch, head dropping straight against the sheets and moaning his name with abandon at his ministrations. 

“Oh-oh god, Zoro, I’m so close-” 

Zoro redoubles his efforts, fucking Sanji into the mattress with abandon, chasing both of their releases. Sanji’s muffled mewls of pleasure grow into louder and louder moans and expletives, stuttering with the pounding of their hips and the fist milking his cock.  

“Come for me, cook.” 

The blonde stills against him, crying out his name as he comes, shuddering and tensing beautifully in the low-lit room. Zoro falls right after him with a shaky moan of his own, time slowing at the feel of Sanji’s glorious, clenching heat around him. Tight, white, hot electricity rolls like waves through his body as he spills, pulsing into his lover. 

Craving to stay close to Sanji, Zoro drops and rolls them to their sides, spooning the blonde from behind, arms tight around his waist and nose nuzzling the nape of his neck. 

“Je t’aime.” the loving words come out like a sigh. 

A dazed, sleepy Sanji hums and clasps his hands on top of Zoro’s, inching himself even closer against him. 

-- 

After getting its fill of sleepy cuddles, Sanji’s blissed out mind slowly comes back online and the questions that have been gnawing at the back of his mind return in full force. Just where had the stupid swordsman learned to speak French, let alone say things like that? 

His cheeks feel warm at the mere memory of it. Now that he thinks about it, it’s even a bit odd- he assumed that Zoro wouldn’t be the type to say such corny, vulgar stuff in bed- if he didn’t know any better, he’d say it was straight out of one of his romance novels. It was uncanny that he’d kind of played into exactly the kind of things Sanji was into. 

He lets out a small, amused sound at the thought of Zoro reading those kinds of books. Did Zoro even know how to read? 

“What’re you thinking, curly?” Zoro asks gruffly, his hands still distractingly caressing his skin from behind him. 

“Wondering where you learned that kind of language, marimo. ‘s not the typical vocabulary people get when learning French.”  

Sanji turns in his lover’s embrace to face him and waits for an answer, idly thumbing at the scar on his face. 

“Oh, that.”  

Was Zoro...blushing? “Yes, that.” 

“Learned it from those, uh, Harlequin books.” 

Sanji’s mouth parts, flabbergasted, but Zoro isn’t done surprising him. 

“I thought if you’d read that kind of book multiple times it must’ve meant something, so I kind of...went on a limb earlier.” 

Sanji is beet red. “W-wait so you,” he takes a steadying breath. “You've read my Harlequin book?” 

“No.” 

A sigh of relief. 

“I’ve read way more than one.”  

Shock. 

“From Mihawk’s private library.” 

“mIHAWK?!!!” Sanji sputters. 

“Yeah, I accidentally let him find out that I’d been learning a bit of French and then next thing I knew he was forcing me to learn it proper ‘n all.”  

Sanji feels his chest warming as he starts connecting the dots. “A-and you’d been learning French-” 

“-for you, yeah.” he grins. 

Unable to stop himself any longer, Sanji closes the distance and captures Zoro’s lips in a tender kiss. 

“Imbécile.” 

“Ton imbécile.” 

They both smile stupidly at each other. 

“I can’t believe you. I’m gonna tell everyone you accidentally learned French because of your crippling addiction to boddice rippers.” 

“Oi!” 

THE END--

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this story, it's been so fun and lovely and your reactions make me so happy!!! I like to think that after this Zoro just takes advantage of the fact that only he and Sanji (and Robin) speak French to flirt and say absolutely debauched things in public to embarrass him. But also he uses it to say soft, romantic things when Sanji least expects it. and Sanji makes good on his threat and tells the crew about Zoro's peculiar French syllabus.

#zoro learns french #zoro learns french story #zoro x sanji #roronoa zoro #black leg sanji #zosan fic #one piece zosan #smut #minors dni #this is #i can't show my face again #aaaaaaaaa #fgiksdqjkflsdg #how could i have written this #anyways it's over now. #do nOT perceive me

[bidisastersanji]

It seems I’m not done with the Zoro learns french story and I am blushing my way through writing smut that includes the use of French and somebody sedate me please

#zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan fic #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #the biggest struggle is trying to make my native language sound sexy in this setting

[bidisastersanji]

OK SO I rewrote the entire beginning of the Zoro-learns-French story and posted it to AO3! Stay tuned for part two, where you can expect lots of Kuragaina shenanigans with Mihawk and Perona as well as some Sanji POV right where chapter 1 left off.

Summary:

It irked Zoro that upon meeting him, a whirlwind of limbs, blue eyes and a cigarette dangling from his cocky smile, something in his gut flip-flopped, instead of the usual, clear feeling he usually got when he met men, like a natural yes/no answer. Obviously, the lovesick fool greatly admired women, ceaselessly shouting his love for them at any opportunity. But he had met many a man like that who still sought to warm his bed- and Sanji was... well, Sanji . His simple existence riles Zoro up like no other. And why does it matter to him what the shitty cook’s preferences are anyways?

OR

Zoro secretely learns French to understand Sanji, hoping to learn if the cook likes men.

#zosan #zoro x sanji #zosan fic #zoro learns french story #zoro learns french #zosan is taking over my life what should i do #come scream at me in the comments please #op zosan #sanji x zoro