Opla Zoro - Blog Posts

just watched the first episode of the One Piece live action.

No I have not seen the anime. Yes I know random facts here and there about it. I've been on the internet.

I think its cool Luffy gives zero(0) fucks. Zoro has cool swords and earrings. Nami's staff is hella badass

a meme I just made <3

─────✿ KINKTOBER DAY 1: OVERSTIMULATION

✎ zoro x gn!reader ♦︎ synopsis: zoro knows he can pull one more from you, and you're not one to disappoint zoro. ♦︎ word count: 600+ ♦︎ cw: overstim, creampie, biting, light praise, light aftercare, pet names [baby, used once], mutual mastetbation [reader receiving], intended lowercase

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there is something about pushing you to the edge that drives zoro insane, his body molding against yours, holding your warm, sticky body to his own. he enjoyed the control he has over you, the control you allows him to have. it shows that you trusted him to be gentle with you, to cherish your body to the fullest. which is why he kept insisting he copied pull one more orgasm form you. you'd lost count after 5, your essence mixing with his, and being pushed back into your tight canal with each plunge of his toned hips.

zoro makes it his mission to be gentle with you, knowing that his cock isn't exactly average; although nothing about about him truly is. but after your third orgasm, be knew that you could handle if he went a little faster; your hips connecting a little harder. his hand, warm to the touch, held one of your legs in the air as he continued to plow into your tight canal.

your mind growing evermore hazing, your latest orgasm creeping up on you; the tip of his cock abusing that special button. his hips never relenting despite your protests, he insisted that you could take more, that you could give him one more. and well, you've never been one to disappoint zoro.

a warm, calloused hand lowers down towards the place you need him most and he wastes no time stimulating you. you become increasingly hot under his touch, it almost hurts to be this stimulated even after the multiple orgasms you'd previously had. zoro was relentless in his persuit, his hand kept a steady pace that aligned with each of his thrusts; you became increasingly wet under the attention from his hand. that burning sensation you'd felt began growing exponentially; you hadn't even noticed your hands gently prying at his own.

,,zo,, you couldn't even muster a full sentence, barely being able to huff out his name. the wet sounds echoing through the room only stirred him on, the sight of your wet lower regions connecting continuously, several strings of your combined essence being more proof of just how long you both were going. ,,mmf- fuck! zo, zoro!,,

,,promise baby, this the last one -fuck, I know y' got one more in you,, by the way his words were slurring together and his voice has in increasing in pitch, you just knew that we was getting closer. his aching cock hadn't gotten as much as a break since the moment you both started this escapade. his hips were losing the rhythm he'd been flowing and so was his hand, although his hand increased in pace.

,,fuckfuckfuckfuck- zo' m' so close, i c-cant ngh-,, all you could do was whisper into the base of his neck, hoping his hand would have mercy on your weeping body. the burn hurt so good, you couldn't hold back the sounds of pleasure that escaped your larynx; your breath hitched with each of his thrusts yet becoming more ragged as you felt your surroundings grow blurry.

zoro's rough voice groaned from above you, his hot face leaning down towards your throat. sloppy yet passionate kisses being trailed up and down your collarbone as your vision shifted again, turning white. your face shifting into an expression of pure ecstasy as you finally reached your high; every muscle in your body tightened as you pulled zoro even closer. despite your head being practically numb you still noticed how zoro's body stilled, his thick cock pressing deep inside of you. hot, sticky ropes flowed into your hot canal, yet also pooling onto the mattress being too much for your body to hold in. the small nibbles he placed around your jugular didn't go unnoticed, only adding to your orgasm as your body convulsed once more before fully relaxing in his hold. light kisses being trailed against your steaming skin, whispers of 'you did so good for me' and 'im proud of you' faded into the night.

So I was thinking about death (as one does) when I remembered something from the Live Action One Piece

So I checked to see if I was hallucinating and;

Nope, I wasn't but you know what this can imply???

Luffy and Zoro could have meet earlier on.

So my brain is like 'ah yes, au where everything is the same but Zoro and Luffy had meet earlier when he was at the Goa Kingdom'

(I don't know how old zoro was when he left his village but I do want to set this after Ace had gone out to sea, so Luffy is about 15? I believe? And Zoro is like... 17)

(Also- is there a marine base at at Goa Kingdom-?? I know it's protected by the marines but a base there?)

Night Owl- ii

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A barista waits for a text back, eventually becoming impatient.

1.7k Words

You spent the rest of your shift frantically checking your phone, distracted from the onslaught of customers.

Usually your lazy coworker would be on your ass about this, you did almost everything as she just took orders most days. This time, she left you alone in your haze. You worked much slower than you usually would as you tried to process the brave move you'd just made on a customer.

Of course, your definition of brave was a bit tame. A phone number on the side of the cup wasn't exactly peak romance, but it was pretty damn good for how tired you were. As the end of your shift creeped ever closer, you thanked the stars for the simple fact that you had the whole day off tomorrow.

By the time tomorrow rolled around, you wished you had something, anything, to do. You had been glued to your messages, waiting for one incoming message that never arrived. At least you got a bit more work done for your classes, phone balanced on your knee as you typed away on the laptop sat comfortably in the crook of your criss-crossed legs. You denied all your roommates’ offers of going out or doing anything at all, nestling in your room to laze the day away.

Next shift, your coworker prodded at your nerves, trying to ease any more information out of you concerning the mystery man who you now knew to be named Zoro.

She didn’t believe he hadn’t even texted you yet, claiming she saw the ‘way he looked at you.’ She had always been a hopeless romantic so you shoved her words aside in your mind, until she suggested going back to the same bar that night.

“He might not even be there, what then?”

“We drink and have some fun, duh~”

She teased and pestered almost relentlessly, now 100% set in the idea while you just made yourself another coffee. The energy she had was almost too much to keep up with, the only way you’d manage was the bitter espresso you now realized needed to be dialed in a bit more.

The evening came around, as did a seemingly infinite barrage of texts from anyone but Zoro. You dressed up a little more than you usually would, and your coworker came over to help with makeup. Soon enough the Uber was at your door, and then at the bar.

You silently prayed he wouldn’t be working, but your prayers were answered with a laugh from fate when the first bartender closest to the end of the bar was green-haired and muscly. That was him, you thought, watching how efficient he could be. It wasn’t overly busy but he still worked like a machine, leaving the only other bartender without much to do at all.

Your coworker groaned at me when I immediately sat at the end of the bar farthest from Zoro, waiting for the other bartender to come take our orders. Mind spinning with all the reasons this was a bad idea, the simple fact he hadn’t texted meant he wasn’t interested… right?

Zoro finished whispering something to the other bartender, too far for you to pick up over the music and shouting, before getting back to work. Their eyes widened at the man’s words, obviously timid and new to the job. A beer was ordered and paid for by your coworker before he disappeared into the back, not paying you any mind before just leaving.

She stuck her tongue out before sipping the frothy drink, smirking. “That’s what you get for being a chicken…” she teased, nudging your shin with her heel from her seat beside you. “Oh, shut up. If this Zoro guy was any interested, wouldn’t I at least get a text back?” “Irrelevant, go make your move girl!” She giggled, now leaving you alone at the bar still with no drink.

You sat waiting, suddenly feeling very awkward. The other bartender didn’t return, and Zoro began working his way down the bar to cover all of his customers. “Oh, it’s you.” He said, a light smile on his features. “Same drink as before?” He began to fill a shaker with ice, pulling out a lime.

“Depends, is it paid for like before?” You quipped back, trying to shake your nerves as he worked away at the drink. This made him chuckle as he finished his pour, topping with the same lime garnish. He was extremely skilled with a knife, captivating my mind as he sliced it so meticulously with ease.

“This one’s on the house, but don’t push your luck…”

This had you grinning, sipping away at the drinks. He was still acting interested, not like someone who would avoid sending you a text. Even being as busy as he was, he still made time to check on you. “Need anything else?” He asked, taking your now emptied glass away. “It’s a shot kind of night, vodka please!”

The plan was to get so drunk you gained some sort of inebriated charisma you were severely lacking. Over the next hour you downed a few shots more than you should have, loosening up and turning into a gigglier, flirtier version of yourself. A few guys had come up to you, and you hadn’t paid for a single drink this far.

Still, your green-haired bartender took their money with a glare. He didn’t seem happy with the attention you were getting, but he still made all of your drinks without any verbal complaints, scaring guys off with no more than a menacing look.

“You’re gonna ruin my scheme here, y’know? I’m gonna drink for free all night, so long as you stop glaring at all the morons trying to woo me~” You teased, bringing your drink to your lips. “Say, you sure this one has no name?” It was another of the lime drinks he made for you, sweet and refreshing on your palate after the nasty shots you’d done.

“Maybe it does, you aren’t hearing it though…”

“And why’s that?” You questioned, curious to know his motive.

“That way I'm the only one makin’ it for you.” He admitted coolly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. You were left speechless as he began to help another group of customers, pouring frothy mugs of beer and shots of cheap liquor as you couldn’t do anything but stare. He was so casual, so nonchalant, but he had you blushing like a grade schooler with a stupid crush.

You decided, in your drunken stupor, that you wouldn't let him keep this constant upper hand. The next time he made his way over to where you sat, you immediately asked him the question nagging your mind. “Why haven’t you bothered to text me if you’re gonna flirt with me like this?” You slurred out, thinking you’d finally caught a slip in his confidence.

“Easy, I was asleep all day. After my shift I stopped in for that coffee, and you just happened to be the one who made it. I drank it trying to get some work done, but ended up passed out before I could even start to think. I at least remember the drink being good, so thanks for that.” He smirked, knowing he’d won your little challenge as you sat without words once again. “I can text you later, if you really want. Or, even better.”

He slid a napkin over and pulled a sharpie out of his pocket, scribbling his own number down in quick, messy handwriting. “I’ll be sure to text you if I can read this,” you joked. “I’ll count on it, unless I'm asleep.” He replied with a smile.

You felt a little dumb after his explanation, it was so simple and you’d made such a fuss over it. Your coworker soon snuck up behind you to tell you she was leaving, but you opted to stay and further pester the bartender, he was far more patient than you felt you’d deserved but you still enjoyed talking his ear off.

The two of you flirted and bantered until the early morning, him far more energetic than you since he was used to this schedule. At this point your head rested on the bar and he would only serve you water no matter how much you begged for even a little more booze.

None of the men from before even bothered with trying to take you home, it was obvious you’d captured the bartender’s attention and he wasn’t going to let some creep steal you away. As you rested your head on the bar, humming along to the quieted music, a gentle hand squeezed your shoulder.

When you lifted your head, you were met with those deep, dark eyes. Intoxicating moreso than the generous pours of alcohol you’d consumed, albeit looking at you like you were delicate, something to be handled gently. This was reinforced with the softness of the touch on your shoulder, barely there as he stirred you to be a little more awake. “You have a ride home?” He asked, his deep voice rumbling and scruffy as he attempted a whisper. You shook your head, and he nodded. While you had been face down on the bar, humming and snoozing, he had cleaned up for the night. 

He rounded the bar, offering his arm for support when you stood. You were still quite tipsy, clinging to the forearm presented to you like it was the only thing keeping you upright. Being a bartender, Zoro had plenty of experience with helping drunk people around, which was very apparent in how patiently he handled you.

You ended up in the passenger seat of his car, typing your address into his phone and leaning back into the comfortable seat. It felt like only a blink until you were home, he watched you carefully as you unbuckled your seatbelt, you didn’t even think before leaning over the center console of the car to leave a kiss on his cheek. “Thanks, for the ride I mean…” You mumbled, half-asleep and drunk.

This was finally the way you got him to blush, cracking his hard exterior just a bit as you got out of his car and took a second to admire the dopey grin on his face. By the time you’d gotten back inside, you had a text from an unknown number.

‘When you aren’t so drunk, I'll treat you to dinner. I’ll even give you a real kiss this time ;)’

Night Owl

(Roronoa Zoro x f!Reader)

University AU - A bartender and a barista have a lot in common, except working hours.

1.5k Words

You couldn't help but flop right onto the nearest barstool, much to the amusement of your friends.

It was a long shift at the cafe this morning, rush after rush of students ordering complicated drinks, and on top of it all you had run out of the house coffee beans mid-shift. It was overall hectic, and thinking about it made your head hurt.

You let out a deep breath, trying to relax and join in on the conversation your friends were taking part in, waiting (slightly impatiently) for the busy staff to take your order. Soon enough, a glass with a colourful drink and lime-peel garnish slid in front of you across the bar, prompting your eyes to rise up and meet that of the green-haired bartender who had made it.

"Sorry, I uh- this must be someone else's. I haven't ordered anything yet..."

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

Usually someone speaking to you like that would be an insult, but the stress of the day combined with free booze soothed your nerves as you took a sip. Sweeter than what you usually went for, but obviously very strong. Nice. You looked back up to the bartender, who was now making a drink for your friend, to ask him about it.

"Who do I have to thank? And what is this?"

He shrugged his shoulders, quickly replying before flying down the bar to serve another patron. All he gave was some half-assed excuse of being too busy for chit-chat, which got on your nerves just a bit.

No matter, the night was still young, and whoever it was that had bought the drink could reveal themselves if they really wanted to. After that, you bought your own drinks, all from the slightly grumpy green-haired bartender who seemed to be manning your section.

You couldn't lie to yourself, he was quite attractive. The way he worked the crowded place seemed almost memorized, moving robotically and making drinks in an extremely efficient way, albeit less polite than what was usually expected from the profession. When he caught you staring at his arms while shaking a martini, you quickly looked down at your drink again to avoid his cold eyes.

Soon enough, you had drank enough to really loosen up after the hard day. Now you were the centre of attention in your group, making everyone laugh seemed to come easy after a few drinks.

A few of your friends teased you about the secret admirer, but you simply brushed it off. Buying just one drink was no big deal, especially if the reasoning the bartender described was true. Simply a pity drink, courtesy of the bags under your eyes. This had nobody else in the group convinced, still teasing as they all left to dance.

Your sore legs begged you not to join, as did your terrible coordination. You were perfectly content to stay seated at the bar, less busy thanks to majority of the drunk college students taking to the dance floor. You smiled a bit at the sight of the bartenders relaxing a bit after surviving the rush, seeing the same look in their eyes that you had held in your own just earlier that day.

"So, are you free enough to tell me what kind of drink that was- ...?" You searched for a name tag on the bartender's chest, met with nothing but faded old t-shirt to stare at. "Not a drink with a name, really. Just the result of an experiment, was it any good?"

The bartender seemed much more willing to chat once the orders had died down significantly, still not giving his name. "If it isn't a real drink, how did someone order it?" You challenged, leaning onto the bar with a smile. The drink had been quite good, and while you were only looking for the name so you could order another, you weren't the type to turn down a playful remark after a drink or two.

"Nobody ordered it from me." The bartender stated, plain and simple. He turned his back, face unbothered as he hauled a giant, heavy tray of dirty dishes into the back before you had time to ask any more questions. In the time he was gone, you managed to put two and two together that he was the one who had bought that drink.

As you began to blush, taking a second to fix your hair, you wondered his reasoning. He had been so nonchalant about it, you didn't even know his name! Then again, he didn't seem like the type to be buying girls drinks at all. The dumpy bar was affordable for college students, but you were sure they couldn't be paying the student bartenders anything better than minimum wage right now. That doesn't budget into buying drinks for people just because, but before you could think any harder about it he emerged from the back room again, to which you quickly spoke.

"I'd like another of whatever that was, with the lime peel."

"Sure thing."

He didn't even bother to look up. No smile, no flirt, not even a glance. Usually when someone bought you a drink, they had some sort of motive, but this guy just seemed to be focused on what he was doing. While you could respect it as a drink-making employee yourself, it was just... perplexing.

Part of you was slightly disappointed at the lack of attention. Your heart had skipped a beat when you figured out the gesture originally, especially after checking out the bartender before you had even known he was the one behind the gift. When he slid the new drink over, you flashed him a smile of your own.

"I'll cover this one," you joked, taking a sip. This got a small smile, one side of his mouth pulling up, before he looked down again to polish some glasses. Damn.

To hell with being subtle, you thought, asking outright. "Why buy me a drink, then?" At this, he met your gaze. This wasn't a cold look, it could even be mistaken as... soft. Kind.

"Like I said, you looked like you needed it. Tough day?"

While you knew the words really should have pulled some kind of hurt feelings from you, they came off too genuine to be offended by. Instead you went along with his question, giving him the details of your shitty work day and even making him laugh a few times at your overdramatic recount.

By the time your friends returned from the dance floor, his attention had completely moved from his work to fully being invested in you. Still making drinks and cleaning the bar up, but his eyes met yours instead of whatever his hands were doing. He stayed close to where you sat, nodding along as you spoke. Before you could ask for his number or even remember to get his name, your friends had dragged you out to catch the uber with more than enough suggestive teasing about your chit chat with the hot bartender.

In the uber back home, you couldn't help but rest your head in your hands. You had gotten lost in talking, and he seemed so happy to listen. So much so you'd forgotten to get his name or really any information about him at all. The pounding in your head from earlier was back, no longer from the stress of work but at the pathetic lack of charisma you had.

That, along with the opening shift at the cafe the next morning.

You would think that being a barista would get someone into the early-bird mindset, but that was never the case. Shots of espresso had both built your tolerance to the bitter, strong coffee and kept you awake through countless mornings, your coworker the only other lifeline through those 5am shifts.

Today, she was happy to listen to your overtired babbling about the bartender you'd fumbled last night, giggling at your description of the man's green hair and strong, toned arms. You wished you could hate her for how peppy and energetic she could be this early, but the positive attitude had definitely grown on you over the time you'd worked together.

This sentiment was lost, though, when she disappeared into the back room. It was the weekend, which meant less students bombarding the shop to fuel their before-class coffee addiction but still enough people that it was quite the nuisance to run solo.

You grumbled, annoyed at the girl before realizing what she had done. The man waiting at the counter looking confused at the menu was the very same green-haired bartender from last night, looking just as tired as you felt.

Without hesitation you brewed up a latte, pulling out all your little flavouring tricks. Double shot, syrups, even the good cinnamon to dust on top of the perfect milk-froth heart. You approached the register, sliding the cup over to him.

"Someone bought that for you, looks like you could use it."

You grinned, using the very same line from the night before as you saw the recognition cross his features. This time, you had the home base advantage and would not be fumbling this again. "Could I get a name for the order?" You asked, pulling out a sharpie.

"Oh- yeah sure, it's Zoro."

The name burned into your memory, repeating over and over again.

You popped the lid off of the sharpie before scribbling away. What he found while walking out of the shop wasn't his name on the side of the cup, though. It was a phone number, along with a doodled-on heart.