Scouty Scribbles

It’s impossible to look at Zoro and keep the smile from your face; he looks much too much like the slumbering bear that he is.

Of course, he’s big and strong like one, but there’s endless size and strength on the Grand Line. There’s even plenty on your own crew. Something so simple couldn't capture the connection between your favored man and creature.

The way Zoro often communicates in grunts and grumbles made you notice first. The habit crops up whenever he’s decided that words aren't worth it. Which is often. The funny part is half the time he’s actually using words, he’s growling or roaring them too. 

Sure, he turns much more tiger in battle, made of speed and elegance and ferocity, but all the time between? The only word to describe the way he moves about the ship is “lumbering”. He lugs his weight around with a lazy air as if the muscles making up his bulk are too tired to control it with finesse. Maybe “too sleepy” is a better way to put it.

Eyeing him head to toe, you decide you’d be sleepy too if you had to feed and maintain a body like that. You’d take any moment you could to rest and recover and find some comfort between all the violence. It warms your heart to see him doing so, sunken into the trusty cushions of the crow's nest couch. 

Seeing his soft face remninds you also, of course, of the contrast between how sweet and fluffy bears look and how terrifying they are when provoked. You don’t think many would ever describe Zoro as looking sweet, but you think they just aren't looking hard enough.

He’s all masculine lines and muscle, yes, but it’s how he carries those that’s so sweet. First, the man eats, and even more than that he drinks. Instead of his muscles and veins constantly pressing out against his skin to show threat, they rest in him comfortably, waiting for their due time. Sure, you can see their details when he moves, but at rest he looks like you’d simply sink into him, be enfolded by him. You’d kill for one glorious hug.

Second, he uses them to protect as often as he attacks. And yes, basically everyone outside of the crew gets the attack part of that equation, but you are privileged. You get to be on the protect half and see it in excess from your vantage point as nakama. 

He’s always lifting heavy objects out of a struggling crewmate's hands, griping about the extra work but still dutifully towing anything anyone needs for however long the job takes. There’s nothing like the relief of feeling him lift weight straight off of you, giving physical form to the promise of support. He makes Sanji struggle with large, unwieldy supplies for the kitchen on occasion, but at the end of the day, they are crewmates and that promise is for you all.

He’s always there the moment anyone needs to be pulled to safety, whether their merriment and play has lost them their footing where it would actually hurt or to save them from their task at hand. Usopp especially had been saved from many a falling board back when he was the stand in shipwright.  You yourself have been saved from flying debris during storms to even being spared the small consequences of slipping attention under Zoro’s ceaseless watch. 

There’s one exception though: Luffy gets to be bonked. Maybe one day it will knock the lesson into him.

But none receive this side from Zoro more than your dear doctor, Chopper. Though he is quiet about it, Zoro always has an eye out for the little guy and swoops in whenever needed. Honestly, he often shadows Chopper like a mother keeping a wary eye on her cubs. 

You try to hold in your snicker thinking of how much he’d grumble at being called a mama bear. 

“Something funny?”

Zoro doesn’t open his eye, doesn’t twitch a single muscle besides the ones needed to speak. 

“I don’t know if you have the sense of humor to get it,” you tease.

A frown contorts his face, and it’s just the kind you were aiming for: pouty.

“I have a sense of humor.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Zoro finally rolls his head to the side to set his eye on you. It’s squinted indignantly, but there’s still an air of sleepy ease to his face. He finds you grinning like a pixie.

“Whatever,” he concedes easily. He’s never found it in him to be as confrontational and competitive with you as he is with anyone else pushing his buttons. “You want a clown? Go look for the cook. Or the captain.”

Zoro closes his eye again and shimmies himself deeper into his napping spot. Can’t have that now.

“I don’t want to bug Sanji or Luffy,” you say.

Zoro scrunches his nose and brow at the quiet part - you want to bug him. He thinks better of responding. But that leads him to a new issue; the stare he’s felt from you this whole time is now all he can feel. His mind latches to it, eager to have your undivided attention but also nervous. What are you planning? (And is your assessment of him up to snuff-) and why are you just staring-

“You look comfy,” you muse. 

You don’t say it with any emphasis that would tell him there’s something else you mean. No, you say it simply. You mean your words and nothing else. 

“Thanks?” He thinks it’s a compliment, but its strangeness makes him unsure. 

“You’re very welcome,” you answer. Academics could fill dissertations arguing with each other over whether or not you’re being sarcastic. The answer will never be conclusive. 

You continue to stare. Zoro continues pretending he’s not hyper aware.

“I wish I was comfy too,” you hint.

Zoro hums from his chest and offers nothing else.

“I’d go to the women’s quarters to take a nap, but Nami is currently turning the place upside down looking for an outfit she got way back in Alabasta,” you continue. “Sunning on the deck sounds nice, but the boys have invented a sport somewhere between baseball, dodgeball, and wrestling, so nowhere is safe.”

“That sounds really hard for you.” 

You’re not sure where you’d start your own dissertation on the tone of that one.

“I want to nap here.” Surely that paired with him being on the only furniture one could lay on in here will get the message across.

“No one’s stopping you.”

You hate him.

A heavy sigh puffs out of you when you curl forward and rest your face in your hands. Surely that was a no. Zoro is denser than lead sometimes, but he isn’t stupid. You guess this isn’t going to go your way, but who could blame you for trying? You were simply struck with how handsome he looked the moment you popped your head into the crow’s nest to check on him. It wasn’t uncommon for him to take your breath away, but the coziness radiating from him had set your heart aching with the need to be a part of it. Perhaps you’re not meant to be.

Rubbing your eyes with one more sigh, you sit up with the intention to reset and move on. Maybe Jinbei will be chill with you finding him to grab a nap while he meditates. His aura is nice and he’d probably keep the others from disturbing you. Or try. When you blink the spots out of your vision, you notice a very important change.

Zoro has upturned his arm to hold his palm out to you.

Nothing else has moved an inch. He’s still just as reclined with his face to the ceiling. His expression is back to the content ghost of a smile that he had when you first found him. The only motion you see is the gentle rise and fall of his breaths, steady as lapping waves on a shore.

You reach out a hand over his and hover it just above the line of touch. After a moment, you let your fingertips drop to rest on his rough palm then slide them up and over to settle a grip on the heel of his thumb. He closes his fingers around the same spot on yours and brushes the inside of your wrist with the tip of his thumb. It tickles lightly, sending tingles under your skin, and you smile. You try to do the same to him but huff a laugh when the reach of your thumb falls short. He gives your hand a squeeze then lets his arm fall lax again. 

You stand and walk next to the couch inside the opening of his arm, trailing fingertips over his wrist, across forearm, elbow, then up bicep and over shoulder. Even all his training couldn’t keep the pleasant shiver from taking him. His fingertips land softly on your thigh and brush up to your hip, urging you closer. It’s the gentlest trap you’ve ever been caught in. You happily snare yourself further.

Zoro lets out a long breath through his nose when you set a hand on each of his pecs. You take your time easing weight into them, hands pressing slowly and slightly into his skin. The fingers at your hip respond in kind, adding just as much pressure to hold you surer and pull you in. You let yourself linger longer than necessary before throwing your first leg over his hips. It was too gratifying watching him try to keep his breath nonchalant with you making those lungs work hard for you under your pressing palms. If only you knew they always do, just like the heart thumping at their center.

When your knee sinks between the cushions and the meat of Zoro’s thigh, his patience shows its first irreparable crack. He’s frowning now, still refusing to open his eyes again, and working to corral you on top of him with the hand at your hip. He takes a steady grip and pushes up, lifting you over him. You can’t help but laugh at him.

“What? You’re the one taking forever,” Zoro grumbles indignantly, “Just get on.”

That phrasing knocks the wind out of your sails, leaving you blown askew in the gust of thoughts and dreams you’ve had of this man. This hardheaded, blunt, stupid, ferocious, ridiculous, steady, beautiful, loyal man. Making you feel young and dumb again with an almost inuendo. You’re glad that his eyes are still shut because you’re sure your thoughts are on your face. All from a few haphazard words.

The hand that held you up now guides as you settle on him. The warmth and safety you feel from such a simple gesture makes you even more sure you’re a goner. It doesn’t help that you know those wide palms and strong fingers have worked endlessly to collect final breaths from dying lungs. He could do much more than treat you impatiently; he could hurt you. But Zoro would much rather hold you - close, where he could instead hurt anyone who would try to take or harm you.

Your left arm squirms its way between Zoro and the cushions. You get a hold of the thick of his shoulder, feeling the muscles relax in your grip, and use it to pull your cheek deep into his pec. It’s just as soft as you had hoped. Then suddenly it twitches under you, showing the strength beneath as his arm comes down to rest around you. His hand finds a home between your shoulder blades, and both of you sigh at the natural coziness of you settling into his arms.

“I just knew you’d be good at hugs,” you mumble. The words carry your breath across Zoro’s bare skin and he fights another shiver. “You know, if you ever let anybody have one.”

“I hug,” he argues compulsively. Your snicker is immediate. “I do! There’s just no point most of the time.”

“No point?” you echo. He gives a noncommittal hum. An idea hatches in your mind and you can’t hold in your giddy smile. Zoro feels it press your cheek into his chest and begins to worry.

“So,” you begin, pushing through your nerves to start trailing your fingers along his arm, “there needs to be a purpose?”

An “mhmm” behind pursed lips is all you earn.

You switch from caressing to massaging his shoulder and that gets a sigh. More sure now, you relax your full weight into him and snuggle deeper into his hold. He helps you along, pulling you against him with sturdy hands. You shift your thigh further between his legs, which he widens in welcome. When you find your spot, his thighs squeeze your own for a brief moment - an action made without thought, only the need to feel you. All the while you keep rubbing at his muscles, working to turn them to mush. 

Only when he’s fully melted beneath you do you speak up.

“Well, enjoying touch must not be enough reason, so I’ll set you free,” you say, feigning nonchalance.

Before you can even begin to press up, Zoro’s arms lock around you. You try again to get up but get nowhere. You’ve been in jail cells with more give to their bars than this (a habit you picked up after joining the crew of course).

“Lay down,” he orders. As if you were able to move an inch.

“What else would you call this?” you say, still tense and ready to leave, but trapped horizontal thanks to the immovable object keeping you in his clutches. You are able to turn your head up to look at Zoro and find him staring you down through a squint.

“Being a pain.”

You smile wider up at him and his heart kicks.

“You caught me,” you admit and finally relax yourself back down. You can’t help but get one more jab in though, just to hear more of him. With a gentle coating of sarcasm, you say, “Nothing gets past you.”

Zoro has had enough. Was a hazy afternoon nap with you as his beloved heated blanket too much to ask? Was he not allowed a little slice of heaven? He’s known as a devil for sure, but they’re always stealing slices of paradise. Surely he can have his own.

Zoro pinches your side then swiftly winds his arms tight again to throw you back into Clown Penitentiary. Yet again, you’ve no hope of breaking your shackles and fleeing your cell, no matter how you squirm. You writhe and laugh yourself breathless. It leaves you both rumpled, though Zoro’s steady breathing is a far cry from your happy gasps to catch your breath.

While you take back the air that joy stole, Zoro loses his own to the sight of you. Your hair and clothes are all askew, eyes slightly teary from your cackling, and you’re so full of life and happiness and so close and so you. An urge to hold you and keep you and your love and laughter all to himself the rest of his days tears through Zoro’s chest, settling in his muscles before he forces them to relax. A slice of paradise, indeed. 

You let him be for real this time and simply enjoy the chance to exist alongside him. Even though you prod him no more, you keep his thoughts stirring long into the quiet. Half of him is tethered to you, grounded by the calm of your breaths, the softness of your body, the beat of your heart thumping so near his. The other half is flying through pasts and futures, all precious, all with you.

Those memories and daydreams lap like gentle waves at the edges of his mind while sleep pushes its way in to fill his head. Their lulling current carries him off to join you in sweet slumber, feeling an embrace that’s echoed through time since the first person held another in love.

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

And then you brought him crashing to earth when you both woke.

“Hey Zoro?”

A grunt.

“Why’s your fly open?”

He flushes bright red even as he smirks down at you, fiendish as the devil himself. 

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading!! Wishing everyone a better year than the last 🤍🤍🤍