In the Shadow of Ice - Chapter 3 - iDreamOfRoses - One Piece (Live Action TV 2023) [Archive of Our Own]

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hotel balcony

pogging rn

Zona - Deserto

“Deserto” è il nuovo singolo degli ZONA, un brano che nasce da una condizione fisica precisa ma si trasforma in un racconto emotivo molto più ampio e universale.Il testo descrive gli stati d’animo provocati dall’impossibilità di respirare correttamente attraverso il naso: una situazione invalidante che porta con sé insonnia, perdita di olfatto e gusto, e una costante sensazione di sete. Da qui…

Zona - Deserto

Doesn’t get paid enough these days

Winter’s Delight

#3: UNDER THE COVERS

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: M (Not explicit, comparatively tame, just groping)

Note:  An entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents!

Prompt for the 28th –Blanket Scenario.

I’m upping the ante a bit for our favorite couple because I think the Bundle Up prompt needs a companion fic. Ugh I can’t resist!

That said. Minors stay away. Same goes for those who don’t like even just a bit of NSFW. You’ve been warned.

Summary: Maybe it was because they were all bundled up—thick sweaters and thick blankets. Or maybe it was because they were now locked in an embrace, bodies pressed against each other…

Amidst the blowing storm outside, the scenario inside the cabin had finally settled down.

After a fiery outburst from the resident blond cook (about how the idiot marimo was forcibly hugging his Nami-swan, to which Zoro only responded with a death glare and Nami sighing an ‘It’s ok Sanji-kun, we’re together), it was then followed by a lot of fat of tears, wailing realizations and sugar cookies almost wasted (much to Luffy’s distress)… Sanji relented but not before aiming a murderous glare at the swordsman to which Zoro reciprocated with his own—a wordless threat hanging between their stares.

Only the warmth of Nami’s hand on his chest prevented him from standing up and unsheathing his swords so he could slash the stupid cook to bits and pieces.

The others took it in a stride. Like it was something most of them had been expecting to happen sooner or later. Usopp was all smiles, wiggling his eyebrows teasingly at the two, as Nami rolled her eyes at him. Chopper had stars in them as he looked over his two friends. Luffy was laughing and clapping his feet, like the idea of them together amuses him thoroughly. The older crewmembers gave them polite smiles like they were in the know, longer than even Zoro and Nami.

Now Sanji was almost hanging near Robin’s chair, slump on its arm as the archaeologist patted his head; like that gesture would make everything alright in the world. A few minutes more he was engrossed in the story that Robin was reading out loud. Eyes wide and attentive and now squeezed between Usopp and Luffy.

Zoro sighed. That could have been more loud and dramatic. It was a miracle the chef didn’t spend the rest of the night curled up in some corner, bawling his eyes out.

Beside him, Nami sidled closer. Her head now resting on his chest, eyes looking a little drowsy as she listened to Robin. His hand on her waist gave it a reassuring squeeze and she looked up at him questioningly.

“You listening?” Zoro asked in confirmation.

“Hmmm…” Nami murmured. “Kinda. It’s a pretty interesting story.”

“Not scary?”

She puffed her cheeks. “It is. But I don’t mind, you’re here.” She smiled confidently, patting his chest lightly.

Zoro would’ve chuckled at that. Instead he gave her waist another squeeze, feeling her sweater bunch under his hand, her own slid to wrap around his torso, fingernails snagging the woollen threads of his top.

It was warm even if they were both situated a bit far from the fireplace. Maybe it was because they were all bundled up—thick sweaters and thick blankets. Or maybe it was because they were now locked in an embrace, bodies pressed against each other underneath the privacy of the blankets Jinbei had so graciously offered to them earlier.

He pulled her closer to him. And a contented sigh escaped Nami.  

“You’re warm Zoro,” she murmured. “I can feel it even through your sweater…”

“Yeah?”

She grinned. “Yeah.”

Boldly, she snuck her hand inside his clothes. Swiftly done if he may say so. He would never doubt the epithet in her wanted poster ever.  

His body jerked slightly when her palm met his skin.

“Why’s your hand still cold?”

“Dunno,” she answered almost breezily. “Warm it up?” She requested with a cheeky grin.

“Tsk.”

But he did what she asked, grasping her hand under his shirt with his own, rubbing her fingers through the fabric of his clothing.

Nami hummed softly as he continued his ministration, the coldness of her hand went away slowly, her palm now a comforting touch against the bare skin of his abdomen.

Zoro continued on, even as her fingers started playing against his, the fabric of his sweater still a barrier preventing skin from touching skin.

Underneath the blankets draped over them like a woollen accomplice, they both gave and took warmth from each other.

Robin’s voice carried over the room as she continued to read story after story, a soothing tone amidst the soft crackling of the fire. Once in a while it was disrupted by a gasp, a squeak or a squeal from her audience. It was rare for the crew to stay put in one area, lest remain quiet in it.

But tonight, as the snowstorm continued to rage on outside, it was one for the books.

Nami shuddered against him as Robin narrated story about an apparition tapping the window-pane asking to be let in and how close one of the characters were to open the door for her.

Instinctively he drew her close, his hand griping hers firmly, just as Sanji looked back at them and shot him with a glare.

Zoro purposely ignored him. They have a lot of time to deal with his tantrums anyway. The cook can just suck it up because nothing will change.

Nami was mumbling something against his sweater. Something about how the story Robin was reading was the most frightening one of all she had read so far.

“You can just nap,” he suggested lowly, lips brushing against her orange hair. “You don’t need to listen.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

This time he chuckled. “Yeah. Been planning to do it since she started reading.”

The navigator yawned. “Point taken.”

She pressed closer, almost as if she was settling down her own bed. The green-haired man didn’t know if he should take that as a compliment or an insult.

Nami let out a quiet breath and in an instant the sound felt soothing, almost like it was pulling him in its spell.

The hand still on her waist moved deliberately, slipping under her clothes to settle on the bare skin under it.

“Mmm, your hand is warm Zoro,” Nami said in a hushed tone.

“So are you,” he said lowly letting his fingers skim the surface of her abdomen.

Her breath hitched and her brown eyes flickered with heat, hotter than the fire in front of them, as she gazed back at him.

He smirked.

Nami rolled her eyes at him and just let him trace patterns on her skin, reinforcing her mind to think of his touch as soothing gestures instead of an igniting one. He wasn’t actually planning to do anything debauch while their friends are just a few steps away (and while the cook was sneaking glances on them) right?

As the night goes on, as Robin’s voice carried on, as the blizzard continued to rage outside… Zoro’s hand and caresses slowly lulled her to sleep.

And then he went higher, fingers barely grazing the underside of her breast.

That jolted every fiber of Nami’s being awake. She glanced up at him, eyes sharp and scowling. Zoro’s expression stayed calm, his good eye fixed on their nakama like he didn’t just do something underneath the blankets covering them and underneath her clothes.

But she can tell from the tell-tale twitch at the corner of his lips that he was fighting the urge to smile cockily at her.

Her glare made him bolder instead of deterring him. His hand was now on her breast cupping it and gently squeezing.

“You…” Nami was about to snarl at him. But her snarl almost came out as a moan when he flicked her nipple lightly before his fingers started playing with it.

She bit her lip as she continued to glare at him. Zoro barely glanced at her, his smile sly.

“Ssshh.” He shushed her almost inaudibly as his attention shifted back to Robin and the others like he wasn’t doing anything wicked to her underneath the thick covers.

Nami had no choice but to relent. She closed her eyes and continued biting her lower lip to prevent a moan from slipping out as the swordsman continued to tease her.

If she drew blood, she’s gonna make his dumb ass pay.

As if Zoro read her thoughts, he smirked at her before pinching her nipple lightly.

Luffy’s snore suddenly reverberated throughout the room. Their captain was sprawled down the floor, without a care in the world. Next to him, Usopp, Sanji and Chopper had all drifted asleep, breathing evenly and looking all serene. Franky was also sleeping a few paces away from them, just near the fireplace. Brook and Jinbei had already left the room some time ago to rest between the eighth or ninth story.

Robin chuckled as she closed her book. Her narration has come to an end as her listeners were now all asleep. Hands appeared all around the boys, draping them with woollen blankets so they would not freeze in their slumber.

Then she stood up, her blue eyes shifting towards where Zoro and Nami was.

“Oyasumi,” she murmured softly, smiling. She didn’t wait for an answer before heading towards the room she and Nami were supposed to share. Robin understood that she will be sleeping alone, because from the way those two were still bundled up together, it looks like they’re not planning to move at all.

She didn’t mind it of course.

Now the only sound remaining is of the fire hissing and logs popping and the ongoing snowstorm outside.

The flame had already dimmed slightly yet Nami’s eyes were a different kind of fire, blazing as she fixed it on the green-haired man.

“You!”

“What?” Zoro asked lowly, his tone almost like a growl. He squeezed her again, reminding her that his hand where still on her breast like he had claimed it as his own.

“I can’t believe you,” she groaned as she tried to smack his hand away.

He reiterated by pinching her nipple again before letting his thumb brush against it back and forth.

Nami almost choked on a moan.

“We’re carefully wrapped and covered,” Zoro grinned smugly. “And they are all asleep.”

He leaned closer, letting his lips touch her ear, sending goose bumps running up and down Nami’s arms as whispered.

“The perks of you bundling us up with these blankets.”

Always by her side

Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters belongs to Eiichiro Oda.

Rating: T
Pairing: Zoro/Nami
Genre: AU
Note: Entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents! Prompt #27 – Christmas in Cocoyashi

“So… kendo?”
The question came while Zoro was chewing. He didn’t rush. He swallowed deliberately, as if even that were part of the test, then looked up.
“Yes.”
“At a competitive level?”
“Yes.”
“Do you win?”
“Mostly.”

Genzo nodded slowly, his gaze steady and evaluative. He hadn’t worn his uniform for a couple of years now, but some things never leave you: the way he sat upright in a chair, asked brief but direct questions, and left space only for the answers that mattered. He had raised Nami and Nojiko as his own daughters with that same strict yet affectionate attention. The difference now was that his gaze was focused on his younger daughter’s boyfriend: Roronoa Zoro, 28, national kendo champion… on Christmas Eve dinner.
Bellemere, sitting a little further away, watched the scene with a faint smile. She, too, was a former police officer, accustomed to interrogations and heavy silences. Now she ran a mandarin orchard, but she recognized a scene when she saw one. And this wasn’t an ambush, it was a test.
Nojiko, sitting next to her husband Kai, ate with apparent calm, but her smile trembled slightly. She knew Zoro was holding up well. She also knew Genzo hadn’t finished yet.
Kai, meanwhile, chewed slowly, staring at his plate longer than necessary, a quiet show of solidarity. He had been there before.

“How much ‘mostly’?” Genzo asked again.
“Depends on the opponent.”

Nami pressed her lips together. She knew that answer, truthful, essential, impossible to argue with. Just like him. She had noticed him at the gym, one of those afternoons when the sound of strikes and heavy breathing filled the space more than words ever could. She had noticed him immediately; it would have been impossible not to. That sculpted body, built for endurance and silence, had caught her attention, but it wasn’t that that truly struck her. It was the way he existed in the world, neither cold nor distant, simply direct. Zoro wasted no movements or words, but when it mattered, he was always present. He protected without intruding, observed before acting, and always showed up for the things that truly mattered, for the people he cared about. Nami had realized early on that behind that apparent toughness was a rare solidity, a quiet constancy she could rely on without promises. And it was that, more than anything, that drew her to him and, over time, made her fall in love. She hoped her family would see the same.
Nojiko suddenly focused on the potatoes as if they were the most interesting topic of the evening. Bellemere continued to watch without intervening. She let Genzo handle it, as you let someone arrive at a conclusion on their own, even if it’s obvious. She knew he would understand for himself, without explanations or pressure. And so she continued to observe, like an invisible director, letting the family dynamics unfold before her, certain that in the end, everyone would see what she already recognized: a man worthy of the trust and affection of her family, and a daughter radiant with happiness beside him.

“Do you work?” Genzo asked, “A sports career eventually ends at a certain age…”
“I teach. Coaching. Someday I’d like to take over my family’s dojo.”
“Stable income?”
“Yes.”
“Alcohol?” Genzo asked, pointing to the glass in front of him.

Zoro followed the gesture with his eyes. For an instant, he glanced at Nami, not a plea for help, more a reflex, a fraction of a second in which he sought confirmation, or maybe just complicity. Nami returned his gaze, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly. Speak the truth. THE USEFUL ONE.
“After practice,” Zoro answered.
“How long after?”
“Not before.”

A brief, heavy silence fell.
Bellemere sighed, amused. “And to think I thought he was the type to drink sake at breakfast.”
“Only on tough days,” Zoro said, keeping his usual serious tone.
Nami tapped him under the table. “He’s joking!”
“Maybe…” Nojiko added. “He can hold his liquor. In that sense, they’re quite similar.”

Genzo observed first Zoro, then Nami. “Moderation!”
“Always!” Zoro replied.Genzo nodded slowly. “Acceptable.”

Nami exhaled and lightly set down her fork.
“Genzo,” she said softly, it’s our first Christmas together, not a police investigation. Her tone was gentle, her large amber eyes pleading. A secret weapon, tested and approved over the years. He hesitated for just a moment, enough to blush faintly behind his mustache.
“I… of course. It’s just that…”
“Dad!” she insisted, batting her long lashes. A direct strike.

Nojiko burst out laughing, unable to hold it in. “And there it is, her ‘three-second heart attack.’ Always works.”
Bellemere lifted her glass but the smile reached her eyes. “Ah, my most diligent student… and probably the most convincing.”
Kai tilted his head toward Zoro. “He’s going easy on you, believe me. Once, he even asked me for my criminal record.”
“It was fake,” Nojiko added innocently.
“It was expired,” Kai defended himself.

Genzo cleared his throat, regaining a semblance of authority.
“One last question, darling.”
The phrase was directed at his daughter, but the piercing gaze was unmistakably aimed at his future son-in-law.
Zoro didn’t react immediately. He kept eating calmly, as usual, then looked up, waiting.

“Nami is a brilliant meteorologist and is finishing her specialization. If she ever had to choose between a job opportunity somewhere else in the world and you, which should she choose?”

The question landed on the table like a gong, echoing in the silence. For a moment, time seemed to stop: forks frozen mid-air, the clinking of glasses barely audible, even the gentle crackle of the oven seemed to pause. Nami stiffened, eyes wide with disbelief. Her hand trembled slightly as she lowered her fork.
“DAD!” The voice came louder than intended, carrying surprise and a hint of nervous tension. Her cheeks flamed, and for a moment, her words betrayed all the turmoil inside her.
Zoro, sitting with his natural calm, lifted his gaze to Genzo without flinching. His posture didn’t change, nor did the tone of his voice: steady, direct, yet never arrogant.
“The job.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any that had come before.

“Explain,” Genzo said, his voice gruff but less sharp than usual, curiosity showing.
“I would never ask her to give up something that brings her joy and makes her who she is. Because if she had to give up who she is…” Zoro continued, eyes fixed on Genzo, voice calm yet intense, “she wouldn’t be the woman I love. She wouldn’t be Nami. And I wouldn’t be with someone I don’t love. I want to be by her side, always. Wherever she goes, whatever choice she makes, I’ll be there. I would never let her face anything alone.”

The table held its breath for a moment. Nami felt her heart pound, her cheeks warm.
Bellemere smiled, amused and proud, as if witnessing a small family miracle.
Nojiko couldn’t help but give a quiet, gentle clap. Kai shook his head, smiling in approval.
Genzo tilted his head slightly, a hint of a smile hidden behind his mustache. His silence didn’t change his demeanor, but the light in his eyes betrayed his approval.
“Hm… acceptable as well,” he said, his tone leaving no doubt, though a trace of paternal pride softened it. Then, changing completely, he pointed to a bowl on the table:
“Pass me the mandarin sauce, it goes perfectly with the roast duck.”

Zoro handed it over without hesitation, their eyes meeting. That simple, silent exchange spoke louder than words: respect, trust, and the beginning of a new family harmony.
Bellemere widened her eyes for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. Nojiko and Kai exchanged a knowing glance. And Nami, unable to hold back her smile, leaned against Zoro’s shoulder, feeling safe and reassured.

***

Once everyone was busy clearing the table, Nami found herself next to Zoro, her heart still racing from what had just transpired. She looked at him with a new tenderness, her amber eyes filled with quiet gratitude and love, attentive to every subtle reaction. She leaned slightly toward him, her voice a warm whisper, barely audible to the others.
“You did it… really. You told everyone how much you love me, and you explained it so sincerely.”
Zoro lifted his gaze, his gray eyes meeting hers, full of feeling and that calm determination she had grown to know so well. There was something profound in that look, a clear, simple message, needing no words. “There was no reason to lie, neither to you nor to your family.”

Nami smiled lightly, warmth spreading through her chest. She placed her hand on his, squeezing it gently, as if to etch the moment into memory. “You were amazing. Truly.”
Zoro tilted his head, a rare small smile appearing. “Thanks…” he said, almost surprised to receive such approval, yet pleased.
She laughed softly, lowering her voice even further, as if the space around them had shrunk, leaving only the two of them:
“Tomorrow, I get to meet your family… Koshiro, Kuina. I’m a little nervous.”

Zoro squeezed her hand, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. His low, steady tone anchored her.
“Don’t worry. Koshiro will like you, you’ll see. And you’ll get along with Kuina… in some ways, you’re alike: stubborn, headstrong… and with that almost sadistic pleasure in teasing me.”

Nami laughed, shaking her head slightly, the tension released by their shared humor.
“Ah, so it’ll be fun!”

“Exactly,” Zoro replied, that half-smile capable of dissolving any stress. “You’ll fit right in. Trust me.”

A moment of silence fell, not heavy, but intimate. Nami instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her forehead against his. She breathed in his scent, a mix of iron, salt and wood, feeling the quiet strength she had learned to know and love over time.
Zoro, in turn, wrapped an arm around her, holding her close with a protective yet natural gesture, as if it were the only way to end this long evening. There were no words, only shared breath and synchronized heartbeats. Amid the family tidying up, the small domestic sounds, and the slightly heightened silence between them, there was a space all their own: intimate, simple, perfect.
Nami closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself be enveloped by that steady, reassuring presence, feeling a calm, complete happiness. No promises were needed: her certainty was there, in the arm holding her, in the gaze meeting hers, and in the absolute calm with which Zoro stood by her side.

Winter’s Delight

#2: KEEP IT UNDER WRAPS (OR NOT)

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note:  An entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents!

Prompt for the 23rd –Bundle Up

I’ve really been slow in making entries for this year. Ack! And I’m late for this prompt because I overslept and wasn’t able to post it on time.

This was not how the original draft was about to go. But like I always say, stories sometime have their own way of just writing themselves. So here we go.

Merry Christmas everyone!

Summary: Outside, the snow swirled faster and the temperature had turned colder. Tomorrow the world will be all white.

The wind howled, bitingly cold and throwing thick clumps of snow everywhere. Not a single soul dare venture outside, lest they disappear amidst the icy gale and all that swirling white, never to be seen again.

It was a dark winter evening, with a threat of a blizzard Nami had predicted earlier that day, already beginning. Yet even though she had anticipated it, the crew still wasn’t able to make it back to the ship.

Now they are stuck inside a log cabin, waiting for the snowstorm to pass.

Which wasn’t so bad, actually. It was safer surrounded by sturdy four walls instead of trekking the wide wintry landscape while a storm was in full force.  

It’ll keep her sanity intact for moment, even if Luffy keeps whining about how boring it is to stay inside. She’ll deal with him later.

The sound of the fire crackling from behind her snagged her attention. Franky was in front of the fireplace tending the fire, his huge figure hunched and almost blocking the light coming from it. The room dimmed and Nami furtively glanced at the window to see how hazy the outside world was looking as snowflakes accumulated bit by bit on window panes.

It was comfortably warm inside the cabin, thank heavens for that. She dared not think how it would feel like outside. They were really lucky to find a shelter and one in good working condition too, because Sanji was able to cook dinner with the provisions they had bought in town earlier and would supposedly stock in the Sunny.

Now the crew was fed and full. All that remains is to rest and wait for the blizzard to be over while they all try to rein in their restless captain and prevent him from suddenly charging outside to do whatever chaos his brain could think of.

Nami shuddered inwardly at the thought of going out in the middle of all that wind and snow in an attempt to yank her stupid captain back into the cabin. If worse comes to worse, she’d let the others deal with it. They do have some resilient ones in their crew after all.

Her eyes darted toward Usopp, who was now busy entertaining Luffy and Chopper with rubber band puzzles.

She heaved a sigh of relief. All good for now.

Nami rubbed her arms to chase the chill away that was slowly creeping in on her. Despite the fact that Franky did an exceptional job keeping the fire burning and whole room warm, she still can’t help but feel… cold. Even if she was in thick clothes, leggings and socks.

Robin walked passed by her, a small smile gracing her lips.

“What a dreary, cold evening,” she murmured, blue eyes gazing towards the window near Nami, who just raised an eyebrow at her comment. Dark as it is, the archaeologist was still smiling, like she absolutely adored the current climate.

“You know some people believe that during winter’s solstice the veil between the living and the dead is in its thinnest.”

Nami blinked, unable to process just what Robin had said. “Eh?”

The older woman chuckled, eyes crinkling in undeniable mirth. “I just read that from here.” She lifted her hand to show the book she was holding before casually striding towards the fireplace chair, where the light was the brightest, to resume reading there.

Nami’s eyes followed her, still looking dumbfounded. What the hell did Robin mean by that?

Now a different chill crept up her spine and settled in her bones. This time she shuddered visibly, rubbing her arms again more vigorously.

Her eyes scanned the room, as it slowly registered to her that most of their crew had already taken their respective places near the fireplace. Robin was now serenely sitting

on the huge comfortable arm chair, her book open and cradled in her lap. Franky was on the other side, manning the fire, poking the logs every now and then to keep it going. He must’ve have added a different log in the pile for a certain pleasant scent wafted from it that wasn’t there earlier.

Jinbei and Brook were somewhere near the kitchen, preparing tea based from the sounds and chatter coming from there. Sanji-kun was preparing nibbles for them to enjoy as he realized that the crew would most likely huddle up together first, instead of going to their rooms to sleep.

Luffy, Usopp and Chopper were lying on their stomach on the floor just in front of Robin. All their attention was on hers, the rubber bands they were playing earlier lay scattered and ignored on the polished wooden floor. They seemed to be asking her some questions about her book, which she explained to them was all about Christmas ghost stories. Their eyes shone bright against the flickering fire like those kind of stories are meant to keep you warm instead of sending chills down your spine.

Zoro seemed to be the only one who was lost in his own world. He lounged at one end of the couch, farther from the hearth and its warmth and almost on the area where the fire casts it shadows. His arms were crossed and his eye closed. A bottle of warm sake was sitting on the end table beside him—the only tell-tale sign that he was still not asleep.  

She quietly sat beside him, her brown eyes still on the fire watching as Luffy pleaded to Robin to read a story from her book.

“What?” He asked after a few seconds of silence.

Nami tilted her head towards him. He was still in the same position… arms crossed and eye closed.

And yet he knew, she seemed… distraught.

“It’s cold,” she mumbled as she stared at the fire, at the whole room, at three of her crewmates whose feet were kicking the air in rhythmic timing.

“It is,” Zoro admitted almost inaudibly, still not moving from his position.  

She shifted closer to him. Just a teeny bit closer.

“It’s warmer by the fire,” he drawled out. His voice thickened by approaching sleep.

Nami frowned and swiftly slid away from him.

She heard a ‘tsk’ and just like that he moved, one hand resting immediately at the small of her back in the lightest of touch, his palm warm against her knitted sweater—she can almost feel it on her skin. The gesture was subtle and rapid, a sort of appeasement, as he immediately knew she took what he said the wrong way.

Zoro was now looking at her, one eye open and serious. “I just meant you’ll be warmer there instead of here.”

She nodded. He had a point. Zoro had opted to sprawl in an area where the heat of the fire cannot reach. Given how he is always doing some ‘winter’ training and could withstand a colder temperature than normal, he also probably chose it because there would be less chances of intrusion from the others, especially since he was planning to sleep the rest of blizzard off.

His hand surreptitiously moved to her waist to give it a reassuring squeeze. A silent way of saying: ‘go on and get your pretty ass warm over there, I’ll be fine’.

Nami puffed her cheeks as she conceded. She was about to stand up when Jinbei approached them the carrying some folded wool blankets.

He smiled at Nami as he handed her one. “This should help keep the chill away,” he said with a chuckle as he also handed Zoro one.

“Thank you Jinbei!” Nami smiled brightly as she accepted the blanket. She hastily wrapped it around herself, savouring the warmth that enfolded her the moment it covered her shoulders. She brought her feet up, tucking her them underneath the blanket and wrapping her hands around legs as she hummed in satisfaction.  

“Thanks Jinbei,” Zoro echoed, giving a slight nod of appreciation to which the Fishman returned with another smile before moving on to hand out the other blankets to the other Straw Hats.

“Here,” the green-haired man held out his blanket to Nami.

Nami peered from the bundled fabric of the blanket around her neck. She blinked at him. “Huh? What about you?”

“I’m good,” Zoro nudged the blanket towards her again.

She stared at him, then at the blanket, then back at him again. Zoro was waiting for her to take it.

“Tsk!” Nami pouted. “What a gallant man you are,” she joshed even as she took it. “Sanji-kun will be so proud of you.”

“Shut up.”

“Relinquishing your own comfort for the sake of this pretty woman,” she continued with a playful grin and throwing a wink his way. “Ugh, just my weakness.”

Zoro glared at her. “Now you have the energy to tease?”

“Of course,” she batted her eyelashes at him. “My ass isn’t about to freeze anymore. All thanks to your blanket.”

“Thank Jinbei,” he nudged his chin towards their helmsman who was laughing as Luffy had rolled himself inside the blanket and was now whining for help to get him out.

“And you,” Nami said as she proceeded to wrap the blanket around her. This time the double layers almost swallowed her and all Zoro could see is orange hair sticking out and her brown eyes, catching the flicker of the fire, making them sparkle with mischief.

“Hmph…”

Nami snickered, the sound muffled by the fabrics swathed around her. He closed his eye and settled back down the couch again eager to catch a nap now that Nami’s all warm and settled.

A gentle brush of lips against his ear had him opening his eye again.

“You’ll freeze your ass like this Zoro,” Nami whispered, her face now inches closer to him.

He tilted his head sideways, his nose almost bumping into hers.

“I won’t.”

They locked gazed for a few seconds. And Nami chewed on her lower lip.

“So stubborn,” she said with huff. She scooted closer to him, practically pressing herself on his side as she pulled at the top blanket covering her.

The navigator stared straight into his grey eye daring him to stop her. When Zoro did not, she reached across his shoulder to drape the fabric on top of him.

Zoro did not make any move, instead he watched her do whatever it is that she wanted to do.

“Better?” She asked, chortling, as she finished covering him with half the blanket. The remaining half was draped over her.

Now they were essentially sharing that one blanket with Nami’s previous one still wrapped around her underneath it.

He gave in with a sigh. He had to admit that it does feel good.

His good eye flitted over to where their other crew members are. Everyone was too busy to even pay any attention to them.

Nami nudged his shoulder as she followed his gaze.

“Are we keeping this a secret?” She whispered in a hushed tone, laced with obvious teasing.

“No…” Zoro grunted looking down at her. He then slipped his arm around her waist to pull her closer to him.

“Good,” Nami said as she tucked her head underneath his chin, feeling warmer than ever as they bundled up under the blankets.  

“Would you two care from some tea?” Brook suddenly materialized beside them out of nowhere, holding a tray with steaming cups.

Nami could swear that if their musician had a face, he would be wearing a knowing grin as he took in the sight of the swordsman and the navigator.

Not that she and Zoro care.

Zoro shook his head as she mumbled out a ‘no thanks’, glad that the oldest crew member didn’t bother making salacious inquiries about her underwear or even let out a cheeky remark about catching her and Zoro in a quite intimate embrace under the privacy of the blankets.

He just went on and offered tea to Jinbei who graciously took it.

“Is everyone ready for the story?”

Robin suddenly inquired, her ever-alert eyes darting quickly on them and giving them a warm smile amidst the choruses of yes.

Zoro looked over to the window. Outside, the snow swirled faster and the temperature had turned colder.

Tomorrow the world will be all white.

But tonight… the room flickered with orange light, the logs popped and crackled as the fire burned bright and everyone quietly settled down to hear Robin read from her book.

Nami nuzzled closer to him, her hand over his chest, palms spread like she was trying to feel his heartbeat.

She basked in the feel of the warm blankets around her, Zoro’s arm on her waist, her cheek nestling against his warm sweater.

Zoro took a deep breath, a sure sign that the he was about to doze off as Robin started reading, his head leaning against hers.

“It was twelfth night when the bell started to ring—”

“Oi chotto matte!” An angry voice suddenly cried out. “What the hell do you think you are doing shitty marimo?!!!”

Ugly Sweaters and Other Sacred Traditions

Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters belong to Eiichiro Oda.

Rating: T
Pairing: Zoro/Nami
Note: Entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents Prompt #20 - Ugly Sweater

Summary: Ugly Christmas sweaters, a long-standing crew tradition, and a bonfire by the sea. Zoro endures it for the sake of peace and ends up with more than he bargained for.

“Don’t be such a Grinch, Zoro.”

They’re on the deck of the Sunny, anchored in a quiet bay. The winter sun hangs low on the horizon, the air carrying the scent of salt mixed with cinnamon cookies and rum drifting up from the kitchen. Usopp and Franky have already hung up far too many strings of lights.
Nami stands planted in front of Zoro, arms crossed, a stance that usually precedes either a hefty fine or a lightning strike. Her gaze is sharp as a blade, and in her hands she’s holding the abomination.
It’s a poisonous red-and-green sweater, knitted thick and heavy. Little bells are sewn everywhere, jingling at the slightest movement, and right at the center looms a huge grinning skull wearing a Santa hat, its eyes made of golden beads that catch the light in an unsettling way. Around it, crossed swords have been transformed into candy canes.

“Huh?” Zoro raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t hate Christmas. I hate that… thing.”

“A Grinch. A Scrooge. A grump who hates the holidays.”
Nami ticks them off slowly on her fingers, savoring every festive accusation she can pin on him.
Zoro grits his teeth. “I know what a Grinch is, and I’m not— not that green thing!” he snaps, still glaring at the sweater as if it might bite him at any moment. “And for the last time, I don’t hate parties. I tolerate them. Especially when there’s booze.”

“Perfect.”
Nami’s smile widens, slow and dangerous. “Then you shouldn’t have any problem wearing it. Holiday spirit. You know how much Robin cares.”

It was the archaeologist who had started this tradition, making a Christmas sweater for every member of the crew, helped along by her Devil Fruit powers that allowed her to knit at an unnaturally fast pace. Needles clicking, yarn weaving itself together, deliberately uneven stitches. All to give each sweater more personality.
According to her.

Nami lifts hers. A true visual offense: a blinding orange base with shocking purple and pink waves, a central skull with two coins sewn in for eyes, glittering sequins, and a stylized treasure map stitched across the fabric.
“It’s… unsettling,” Zoro mutters.
“Robin said it represents my love for navigation and treasure,” Nami replies flatly.
“I say it’s going to haunt my dreams.”
Zoro looks back at his own sweater. It looks heavy, hot, noisy, and probably cursed. But if Nami has to wear one with murderous sequins and colors that actively fight each other, then maybe he can give in too. At least, he thinks, he won’t be going down alone.

A bell jingles as he takes it in his hands. From her seat, Robin smiles serenely while sipping an innocent cup of tea.

Later, the common room is unrecognizable.
The large table takes up nearly all the space, laid out for a feast and overloaded with steaming dishes: glossy roasts, mountains of pasta, trays of colorful vegetables, desserts decorated to an almost ridiculous degree. The air is thick with scents, spices, butter, sugar and with the constant background noise of the crew’s voices. The lights are warmer than usual, reflecting off carefully polished surfaces and making the improvised decorations on the walls gleam.
Sanji moves between the dishes like a conductor leading an orchestra, throwing proud glances at his masterpiece.
Zoro has settled on one of the benches, a bottle in hand, already half empty. He’s leaning back, apparently relaxed, his gaze drifting idly… until it stops. On Nami.
She’s unbelievably beautiful. Even in the infernal sweater. Of course.

It hangs on her in all the wrong, and somehow perfect, ways: long enough to double as a short dress, the sleeves slightly too big, covering part of her hands. Underneath, she’s wearing thick stockings and dark, form-fitting boots that reach almost to mid-thigh, cutting through the chaos of colors. It’s a contrast that shouldn’t work and yet it works far too well.
Her hair is loose, a cascade of copper waves that catch the light every time she moves, warm reflections that seem almost alive. She hasn’t done anything special, no elaborate hairstyle, no flashy jewelry and maybe that’s exactly the problem. She looks comfortable.
She laughs with Usopp, one hand resting on the table, her body leaning slightly forward. The sweater is ugly, yes, wrong colors, sloppy decorations, little ornaments that jingle when she moves, but on her it loses every right to be taken seriously.

Zoro drinks straight from the bottle, a long pull, without looking away. He watches her from the corner of his eye, wearing that unreadable expression he usually reserves for things he doesn’t want to admit, even to himself. He drops his gaze for just a moment, long enough to notice the skull stitched right at the center of her chest. Its teeth seem twisted into a crooked grin, the coin-eyes glinting under the lights as if they’re mocking him.

You remember, right?
The debt.

Zoro grips the bottle a little tighter, his fingers slipping against the glass. “I swear I’ll burn it,” he mutters, quietly enough that no one hears. The skull keeps smiling.

Among the crew, it’s common knowledge, even if no one ever says it out loud: Robin’s Christmas sweaters are made to be destroyed.
She makes them every year with meticulous care, stitching in deliberately exaggerated flaws, colors that should never coexist, and details designed to irritate the wearer perfectly. She hands them out with a calm smile, watches them during dinner… and then, at some point in the evening, she simply shifts her gaze toward the exit. That’s the signal. The bonfire isn’t rebellion, nor mockery. It’s the second half of the ritual. Robin doesn’t always follow the group, but she knows it will happen. She knows it happens every year. And she’s just as much a part of it as the ones who throw the wool into the flames.

The fire crackles at the center, fed with old, unusable crates and wood gathered earlier. The flames cast long, dancing shadows, and the smell of smoke blends with the salty sea air. Someone is still laughing, someone else holds a warm drink. The moment is slower now, softer. One by one, the sweaters come off. There’s a moment of hesitation, not out of regret, but anticipation.
Usopp makes an exaggerated bow before tossing his into the fire. Chopper watches it vanish with a sigh of relief. Sanji mutters something about good taste dying every year, then throws his in with theatrical precision. Zoro stands still, his in his hands.

The wool is heavy, rough. The skull stares back at him, mocking. For a second, it almost looks… disappointed. Then Zoro does what he does best. He tosses it into the fire without ceremony.
The flames devour it quickly, the bells giving one last jingle before melting, the skull warping, blackening, disappearing. It’s surprisingly satisfying. Beside him, Nami has already gotten rid of hers.
Underneath, she’s wearing a simple dress, short but practical, in a soft cream color, with long sleeves and fabric that moves with her without restricting her. Something she chose deliberately: warm enough for the night, light enough not to steal her freedom. The thick stockings and tall boots complete the look, and now that the infernal wool is gone, the contrast is striking.
Her legs are lit by the fire, the light painting amber reflections over her skin. Her arms are crossed more against the chill than anything else, but her posture is relaxed.

Nami’s satisfied smile, lit by the flames, is both beautiful and dangerous. Shadows brush her face, making her eyes shine differently, deeper. There’s a spark there. Not pure mischief, not just playfulness, something alive, something aware.

Zoro likes it.
He likes it more than he should. The fire crackles. Someone laughs behind them. The sea, not far away, keeps up its steady, reassuring sound. Zoro thinks he should tell her. That this is the right moment. That if he doesn’t do it now, he never will.

“Hey, Nami—”

But the moment fractures. Somewhere, Usopp has decided it’s marshmallow time. Someone skewers them on improvised sticks. Luffy laughs too loudly. Brook launches into a Christmas song attempt that immediately derails into wildly inappropriate, off-topic lyrics. Zoro has a bottle in his hand. He doesn’t remember picking it back up, but it’s lighter than before. He takes one drink, then another. The warmth settles in his stomach and melts the last of his hesitation. He turns toward her, a little unsteady, a little drunk.
“You’re… uh… way more beautiful without that thing,” he mutters, nodding his chin toward where the sweater no longer exists.

Nami looks at him. She really looks at him. For a moment, she seems to consider teasing him, firing back. Then she laughs softly, shaking her head, and steps half a pace closer. “Impressive compliment, swordsman.”
Zoro opens his mouth to reply, probably something terrible, but he doesn’t get the chance. Nami rises onto her toes and kisses him.
It’s brief, warm, unexpected. It tastes like burnt sugar, rum, and lingering spices. It tastes like celebration and like something that wasn’t planned.

Zoro freezes for just a second, then his hand settles at her waist, instinctive, as if it’s always belonged there. Warmth. Muffled laughter around them. The crackle of the fire fading into the background. The world narrows down to her and for once, Zoro doesn’t feel the need to be anywhere else.

Zonami Rampage 🍊⚔️

The Guide and the Wanderer

Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters belongs to Eiichiro Oda.

Rating: T
Pairing: Zoro/Nami
Genre: AU
Note: Entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents! Prompt #8 – Ice Fishing

Summary: In the frozen wilderness of Swedish Lapland, a battle-hardened traveler encounters a skilled local guide.

The night train of SJ AB, which crossed all of Sweden from Stockholm up to Narvik, screeched to a halt at Abisko Östra with a metallic hiss that sliced through the air like a blade. A short, sharp whistle echoed against the sleeping mountains of the Arctic Circle. Outside, snow was falling in thick, hypnotic flakes, drifting out of the dim afternoon sky as if someone had torn open a sack of feathers. It was only three in the afternoon, but the Arctic winter had already swallowed every trace of light.
The door of the last carriage snapped open, letting in a blast of icy air. A man stepped down. Tall. Broad. Imposing, not just physically. The kind of man whose presence seems to take up more space than his body actually does. His dark green jacket hung open despite the –15 degrees, revealing a black sweater stretched over his abdomen and, above it, the pale, long mark of a scar running across his chest. Another scar, thinner, crossed his left eye, an icy line that spoke of something few would have survived, and yet, far from diminishing his allure, it somehow sharpened it. The wind hit him mercilessly the moment he set foot on the fresh snow. His green hair, surprisingly natural on him, ruffled slightly under the gust.
He inhaled deeply, then sighed. Long. Tired. Annoyed.
“This place is just snow,” he muttered to himself, lips barely moving in a growl. “Snow, trees… and more snow. What the fu—”
He stopped himself before finishing the curse. A scarf hung loosely over his shoulder, far too short and far too thin for anyone with the slightest instinct for self-preservation. But he wasn’t looking for comfort or common sense. He was looking for peace. Or at least something vaguely resembling it.

Roronoa Zoro was not a tourist, had never been one, and could never pretend to be. He was a man on forced break, a soldier with no mission, a weapon with a broken sheath, an adrenaline addict ordered to ‘stay put.’ And for him, staying put was worse than bleeding.

The wind carried toward him the scent of burning wood and old snow. His right hand moved instinctively to the inner pocket of his jacket, where he kept the document certifying his 'mandatory convalescence.’ Ridiculous.
He’d spent two years in desert regions, five in training camps at impossible altitudes and in operations no newspaper would ever mention. He’d survived explosions, chases, hunger, thirst, mountains, and men worse than mountains. But that station, with its identical corridors and its signs far too small, had managed to make him lose his way at least eight times. His hamster-with-a-drunken-compass sense of direction was legendary among his colleagues. Someone had even suggested implanting a top-tier GPS under his skin. Shame it would’ve been counterproductive in his line of work.

And now here he was, at the foot of Sweden’s Lapland mountains, squinting through a blizzard, with only three things certain around him: snow, wind… and the awareness that he had absolutely no idea where the exit was from that infernal place. His breath condensed into a white puff as he eyed the two metal stairways leading down from the platform. Right or left?
Naturally, he chose the wrong direction. And naturally, he realized it only after walking twenty meters and finding… a dead-end wall. He stopped. Inhaled. Swallowed his frustration. Then, in a calm, flat voice, the dangerous kind of calm he had right before losing his patience—he allowed himself a “Fucking great.”

Once he finally escaped the station, an Uber was waiting for him with the engine running to avoid freezing over. The driver was a stout man with a white beard and rosy cheeks, the typical northerner who regarded this climate as a minor inconvenience, nothing more than a pebble in his shoe. He barely looked at him. “Aurora Lodge?” he asked in a gravelly tone.
Zoro nodded, grateful the man felt even less like chatting than he did.

The ride took about ten minutes. The landscape was almost unreal: pine trees heavy with snow, white expanses broken only by yellow streetlamps bravely resisting the wind, a few scattered cabins, the Arctic afternoon sky already shading into deep blue as if night were close at hand. They pulled up to a two-story wooden building, with wide lit windows and a veranda that seemed to invite you to kick off your boots and drink hot chocolate. A mix between chalet, hostel, and sanctuary for souls in search of quiet. A small glowing sign read:

AURORA LODGE – Abisko

Below it, a smiling reindeer wearing a silly pink hat winked at him.
Zoro sighed. He had seen terrible things in life, but a reindeer with a pink hat was almost too much.
He paid, grabbed his backpack, and stepped out, but before he could reach the door handle, an explosion of energy hit him full force. The door flew open.

“Welcome to the Aurora Lodge!”

The voice was so bright that Zoro had to squint for a moment, as though someone had flashed a light directly into his eyes. The girl who rushed toward him had a blond bob, two big fluffy locks that looked almost like bunny ears, bright eyes, and a vitality that warmed the room more than the heating system. She wore a white wool sweater embroidered with snowflakes, an absurdly long red scarf, and a pom-pom hat that bounced with every movement.

“You must be the new guest!” she declared, planting her hands on her hips and leaning forward as if to inspect him closely. “I’m Carrot!”

Zoro stared at her for a second, as if checking whether this incongruously energetic being, whose name had never been more fitting, was real and not a character from a children’s TV show.

She smiled even wider.

Zoro blinked once. “Roronoa Zoro… hi.”

Carrot almost hopped toward the reception desk with an agility strangely incompatible with such a slippery floor. “Let’s see… oh! You’re the one from the 14:59 train! I thought you weren’t coming anymore!”

Silence. Glacial silence. Colder than the weather outside.

“Did you get lost?” she asked with utter innocence.

Zoro, eye twitching, had to count to ten in his mind to avoid responding with vocabulary wholly inappropriate for the situation.

Oblivious to the danger of being launched through a window, Carrot scanned his reservation. “Anyway, don’t worry! Abisko confuses lots of people! That’s why, especially if you’re here for outdoor stuf, I recommend a guide. Actually: THE guide. Nami is the best!”

Zoro frowned. “Nami?”

“The best guide in Swedish Lapland! She knows these mountains like the back of her hand! Zero risk of getting lost! She’s like a GPS… but cuter.” Carrot winked, as if she were revealing some universal secret. “And trust me, she’s great with lost causes.” she added with a mischievous smirk.

“Hey, I’m not a lost ca—” BOOM.

The side door of the hall burst open in a whirlwind of snow and icy air. “Carrot! Was it you who ate the chocolate I was saving, or do I need to hunt someone else down this morning?!”

The voice was clear, sharp, with a touch of exasperation and authority that left no room for misunderstandings.

Zoro turned toward the entrance and saw a figure outlined against the white Arctic light like a flash of warmth in the cold. She wore a burnt-orange insulated jacket, cream trekking pants, and boots dusted with fresh snow. Her long, copper hair was tied in a high ponytail, slightly damp, snowflakes melting slowly and making it shine like strands of fire. Her skin was flushed from the wind, a rosy glow across her cheeks that made her look alive, vibrant, intensely present. And her eyes… amber, clear, deep, intelligent. Eyes that didn’t just see, they seemed to read you. Eyes that could cross a blizzard without losing their way. Exactly as Carrot had said.

Nami paused only for a heartbeat when she saw Zoro. Used to meeting all sorts of tourists, her mind instantly registered size, posture, clothing, apparent emotional state. And that man, who looked around her age but wore scars and weariness that suggested otherwise, caught her gaze more than he should have. A striking physical presence. Broad shoulders, controlled movements, the unmistakable air of someone with military training, even if he tried to hide it. And at the same time… that slightly lost expression, which clashed delightfully with the rest.
An interesting contrast. Very interesting.

“Nami, this is the new guest, Roronoa Zoro!” Carrot announced, bouncing behind the counter. “Arrived a little… um… disoriented.”

Zoro clenched his jaw. If that hyperactive girl repeated that word one more time…

Nami crossed her arms over her chest, a natural motion that made the fabric of her jacket stretch in a… notable way. Zoro noticed immediately and silently cursed himself for it. But ignoring a woman like her was nearly impossible.

“Disoriented?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “In a station with one single exit?”

Carrot nodded enthusiastically.

Zoro inhaled slowly, very slowly. “I wasn’t disoriented.”

Nami took her time looking him up and down, noting every detail: the rumpled green hair, the scar across his eye, the open jacket as if the cold didn’t touch him, the fighter’s posture, the sculpted physique… and that offended, proud expression typical of men who hated being teased. She knew the type well. The strong, stubborn, self-reliant ones. The ones who wouldn’t ask for help even if they were freezing to death. This Zoro was the exact opposite of a standard tourist. Which made him infinitely more interesting.

“Mmh,” she murmured, tucking a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Sure. And I’m Santa Claus.”

Carrot snickered behind her hands.

Zoro blinked slowly, like a big cat deciding whether to reply or claw someone. “I have an excellent sense of direction.”

Nami’s smile widened, shamelessly unconvinced. It was the smile of someone who had already figured him out. “Oh really? Then how come you took the wrong exit at the station?”

Zoro froze. “And how do you know that?”

“Abisko is small,” she replied serenely. “If someone gets lost, I know.” She added, in a tone half professional, half teasing: “It’s my job.”

Zoro had no comeback. He already hated her. And yet… he couldn’t look away.

“Anyway…” Nami continued, friendlier now but still amused. “Welcome to the Aurora Lodge. I’m Nami. Local guide. Specialized in Arctic excursions, navigation, ice-fishing… and in putting in line anyone who thinks they can challenge Lapland without knowing where they’re stepping.” She winked.

For a moment, Zoro felt a flare of heat right under his sternum. Annoying. Very annoying. “Putting in line, huh?” he replied, lowering his voice. “Interesting.”

Nami tilted her head, amber eyes gleaming like she’d found a new toy. “Usually the stubborn types who think they can handle everything are the first to get in trouble.”

Zoro crossed his arms, unintentionally lifting his scarred chest. “I’ve gotten out of situations far worse than a wrong turn or an Arctic fish refusing to bite.”

For an instant, the hall fell silent, as if even the snow outside held its breath.

Nami stared at him without blinking. He stared back.

A spark, neither hostile nor peaceful, flared between them.

“So,” she said a little more quietly, “do you need a guide to learn ice-fishing without freezing to death? Because I’m not hiking out to rescue you if you fall into a lake.”

Zoro gave her a slight smile, slow, sharp and it made her heartbeat quicken, though she’d never admit it even under torture. “I don’t fall into lakes.”

She stepped closer, just enough to close the distance. “We’ll see.”

The world seemed to shrink to that precise point between them.

Zoro stepped out of the lodge’s hall and saw her immediately.
Nami was bent down beside the snowmobile, moving two helmets onto a wooden bench. The Arctic dawn cast a pink veil over the snow, setting her side braid aflame, her hair looked almost incandescent, like molten copper. She wore a fitted orange thermal suit, black gloves, and a neck buff that framed a face flushed from the cold.
She was beautiful. And dangerously capable of scrambling a man’s thoughts.

The moment she saw him, she tossed him a helmet. “Put it on properly. No macho nonsense. Out here the wind will slice your face open if you’re not careful.”

Zoro caught it midair and pulled it on. The visor fogged up as he sighed.
Perfect, five seconds in and she had already thrown him off balance.
Nami swung onto the snowmobile in one smooth motion. “So, ready for your first Arctic outing?”
He met her eyes, those amber eyes that said far more than she wanted them to. “I was born ready.”
She laughed, and that laugh slipped straight into his stomach as warmth. “Great. Then hop on behind me.”
“Behind? I’m not driving?”
She fixed him with the calm, exhausted expression of a woman who has already run out of patience too many times in her young life. “You? Drive? A snowmobile? In Lapland?”
He nodded, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Nami gave him the smallest, sharpest little smile, more provocative than she probably intended. “You get lost in the station hallways. If I let you drive a snowmobile, we’ll find you in Finland tomorrow.”
Zoro opened his mouth… then closed it again. It hurt to admit she had a point, so he chose to sit behind her without comment.
The moment the engine roared beneath them, the machine vibrated. Zoro lost his balance for a heartbeat, and his hands went straight to her hips. Not on purpose, instinct.
Nami stiffened at once. Not annoyed, surprised. Very much trying to hide it. He felt her breath hitch for the briefest instant. Felt the tension in her muscles through his gloves, the awareness of the contact. And he blushed. Just for a fraction of a second, hidden by the helmet, but he did. He snatched his hands away as if burned.

“You can… uh… hold onto the handles behind you,” she said, trying very hard to sound normal.

Zoro tilted his head. Suddenly, he found this amusing. She’d been teasing him nonstop since the day they met, and all it took was his hands brushing her hips to shake her? Very interesting.
Instead of grabbing the handles, he leaned in again by a few centimeters, just enough to make sure she felt his presence. He didn’t touch her hips again… but he didn’t sit back like a nervous tourist either. “I’m fine like this,” he murmured, his deep voice vibrating under the helmet.
Nami stiffened again. “The handles exist for a reason.”
“And this position works,” he said. Half a smile, a calm provocation that sounded dangerously like: let’s see who cracks first.
She huffed loudly, but didn’t move. Didn’t tell him to back off, didn’t even make a serious attempt to push him away, and that betrayed her more than any words could.

Nami accelerated, as if speed could dissolve the thread stretched too thin between them. The engine roared, snow burst out beneath the treads, and the snowmobile surged forward, shooting out of the lodge and into the endless white. The wind was razor-sharp, but she drove with flawless confidence, her body fluid, attuned to the machine as though it were an extension of herself.
Zoro noticed everything, but most of all… he noticed her. The way she anticipated every change in the terrain, the ease with which she shifted her weight, the precision in every movement. And for the first time in months, he wasn’t thinking about anything. Not the accident, not work, not the scars he carried. Only the cold slicing the air, the snow opening ahead of them, and Nami’s warmth just inches in front of him. The frozen lake waited for them, but in that moment, Zoro would have sworn the journey was already the best part.

The snowmobile’s roar died away, giving way to an immense silence. A living silence, made of snow suspended in the air and the wind caressing the vast white expanse of the lake. Zoro dismounted first, stretching out his numb legs. The cold nipped at his skin through the thermal suit, yet the clean air filled his lungs like a shot of freshness no city had ever given him.
Nami climbed off right after. She removed her helmet, and her copper braid slipped over her shoulder, shimmering like a gentle flame in the endless white.
“Welcome to Torneträsk.”
Her voice was calm, almost affectionate, as she extended an arm toward the horizon.
“One of the largest lakes in Sweden. In winter it becomes a slab hard as granite.”

Zoro gazed out at the landscape, a frozen sea, distant wind-sculpted mountains, a pale sky fading into the dawn’s soft pink. It felt vast. Cold. Silent. Perfect.
“It’s… peaceful here,” he admitted, voice softer than usual.
She smiled, a gentler smile than before. “It is. And it can be very generous, if you treat it right.” Then she switched back into professional-guide mode. “Okay. Let’s see… Do you at least know what an ice-drill is?”
Zoro pointed to the tool as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “A tool to make holes.”
Nami paused. “…Yes. Technically correct.” She tossed him the drill. Zoro caught it with a single hand, effortlessly.
“Make a hole here. I’ll set up the lines.”
He began turning the crank. The ice gave way quickly, forming a perfectly round hole.
She stopped moving and stared at him. “…Have you done this before?”
“Never.”
“Then how are you… so good at it?”
“Strength.” A pause. A steady, direct look. “And control.”
Nami wrinkled her nose. “Arrogant.” But that perfect hole left her with no argument. She knelt to arrange the gear. The hood slid down her back, revealing the elegant line of her neck.
Zoro looked away, perhaps just a moment too late.

“Okay… now we wait.”
“How long?”
“Depends on the fish… or our luck. By the way, besides strength and control, do you also have plenty of that?”
Zoro met her eyes, trying to keep a serious tone. “I can’t complain.”
She blushed faintly. “I meant fishing-luck, idiot.”
“Sure.”

They sat side by side on the thermal mat. Their shoulders brushed, only a touch, barely a point of contact, yet impossible for either of them to ignore.

“This lake had been used by the Sámi for centuries. Their traditions spoke of the ice as a living being… one that listened, that watched. See these?” Nami said, pointing to a few small, colorful feathers. “We use them as bait for Arctic fish. They say the colors should be a bit of the earth, a bit of the sky.”

Zoro took them in his hand, examining them closely. “Who taught you this?”

“An old family friend. Sámi. He brought me onto the ice for the first time when I was a child. He said nature is never the same twice. You have to watch it, listen to it, respect it.”

Zoro looked at her.

She turned her gaze toward the lake.

“That’s why you’re a guide.”

Nami made a small, playful grimace. “One of the reasons.”

“What’s the other?”

The question was direct, but not aggressive. Simply… curious.

Nami frowned slightly, as if deciding whether to answer. Then she looked at the clear sky. “My mother. Bellmère.”
Her fingers played with the line, but her voice was steady. “She was a hurricane in human form. Brave, stubborn. One of those people who teaches you everything with a kick in the ass… but always out of love.”

Zoro said nothing, but he listened in a way none of her tourists ever had. Not out of politeness, but genuine interest.

“She was a retired police officer who came to live here. She raised me alone. We didn’t have much, but we were happy. She taught me a lot of what I know. She always said that if I learned to read the sky, nothing in life could ever catch me off guard.” She smiled, a small fragile smile. 

“She was right,” Zoro said.

Nami blinked, almost surprised by the simplicity of his answer. Then, to lighten the mood, she nudged him gently with her shoulder. “And you? What kind of past makes you… so mysterious?”

Zoro stared at the lake for a few seconds before speaking. “I was part of an international unit. High-risk operations. I was good… too good.” He swallowed. “Until an accident happened. A dirty mission, bad intel. I got out with this…” He brushed the scar across his eye. “…and this.” He gestured to his chest.

Nami held her breath for a second. “And they sent you on forced leave.”

“Something like that.”

She didn’t laugh. No irony this time. “And now you’re trying to figure out what to do… with the time they gave you.”

“Exactly,” Zoro replied. “And I’m not good at… figuring things out.”

“Least of all at finding your way.” This time, her smile was tender, not teasing.

Before he could respond, the line trembled like it had been struck by an electric pulse.

“…Wait,” Nami whispered.

The tip of the rod bent sharply. Zoro seized the line with a fluid, flawless motion.

“Don’t pull like a gorilla!” she screamed.

“I never pull randomly.” With a firm motion, Zoro reeled in a huge fish, silver and glinting in the pale sun.

Nami’s mouth fell open. “It’s enormous! How?!”

“The lake listens, right?” He gave her a glance that made her blush. “Maybe it likes me.”

Nami opened her mouth to argue, but something stopped her. Her gaze shot to the horizon. The wind shifted with a sharp gust. “…Oh no.”

“What is it?” Zoro sprang alert.

“The pressure’s dropping. Can you feel it?” She touched her earlobe, then inhaled. “Humidity’s changed. And look at the cloud line to the west: too low, too dense.” She rose suddenly. “A storm is coming. Strong. Fast.”

Zoro tried to follow her reasoning. “How do you figure that out so quickly?”

“Climatology.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. “I’ve studied it for years. The rest Bellmère taught me. Let’s go!”

They ran toward a wooden shelter a few hundred meters away. The wind pushed from behind like an icy punch. Snow whipped up in spirals. Nami yanked the door open, and Zoro slammed it shut behind them. The silence was immediate, warm, almost intimate.

Nami removed her hood. Her braid partially fell loose, strands of copper sticking to her flushed cheeks.

“You’re trembling,” Zoro noticed.

“I’m fine.” But her voice betrayed her.

He took her hands, warm and strong, covering hers.

Their breaths mingled.

“Now, yes,” he murmured softly.

Nami lifted her gaze, just a moment too long. Too close. “You shouldn’t have done that,” she whispered, barely audible, a trace of tremor in her voice. Not anger, not fear: just the awareness of how real that touch had been.

“Why?” Zoro asked, breathing slowly, his hands still enveloping hers.

“Because… warmth is distracting.” Her head dipped slightly, as if trying to control an impulsive urge. Her face was near his, and Zoro caught the subtle citrus scent of her hair balm, mingled with the Arctic cold, a contrast that made him tense. “From what?”

“From everything.” Her voice quivered faintly. For a moment, Nami stared into his gray eyes, so intense it seemed impossible to look away. Their breaths mingled in the cold shelter air, forming little clouds that vanished almost instantly, testifying to their tension.

Zoro stayed still, but a small smile curved his lips. He said nothing. The moment alone was enough, the gaze that followed him, the warmth of hands that would not let go. He felt that she wanted to push him away… yet, in that instant, it was impossible to tell who was more drawn to whom.
She turned slowly, breaking the suffocating intimacy, but her movements were full of grace and tension. Her hands brushed a rope hanging on the wall, seeking distraction. Every gesture was a compromise between self-control and the awareness that the space between them was too small, too electric.

He lowered his face slightly, observing the curve of her neck beneath the copper hair, her delicate features illuminated by the soft light of the shelter. For a moment, the outside world, the storm, the lake, all of it seemed to vanish. There was only her, the beat of her heart, and her breath, so close.

When the storm subsided and the wind weakened, Zoro leaned against the doorframe.

“So…”

“So?” she replied, hands on her hips.

“What other excursions does a guide like you offer?”

Nami laughed, a low, soft, almost incredulous laugh. “Better in plain clothes, Rambo!”

“Why?”

“Because with my rates…” Her amber eyes seemed to burn in the shelter’s light. “…you’d end up in debt.”

Zoro grinned. “I might take that risk.”

“Careful, Zoro. Debts with me don’t disappear easily.”

He stepped toward her, deliberate, silent, dangerously confident.

“Perfect,” he said. “Then I’ll have a reason to come back.”

Winter’s Delight

#1: SNOWFALL AND SOLITUDE

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note: An entry for the ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 @zonamievents!

Prompt for the 9th – Home Alone. AU setting because why not? Who doesn’t love a sappy ZoNa. I know I do. Plus we need one.

This is part of an AU I keep thinking I wanted to write but got no time to put in MS word.

Summary: It was sinking deeply into her that she was alone. Tonight. During the first fall of snow.

Nami tapped her fingers against the marble countertop for the umpteenth time that night, her nails making a rhythmic clicking sound that reverberated across the silent kitchen.

She pouted as she let her head loll slight to the side, chin balanced against the palm of her propped hand, her eyes shifting languorously to glance at the window.  

The sky outside is filled with heavy clouds—dark yet somehow luminous at the same time. The weather had taken a turn earlier that evening, the temperature lowering drastically as if readying itself for the forecasted first fall of snow of the season.

Which seems just about right. Nami already knew that of course. She knows all there is to know about the weather and everything that comes with it. It was her job after all. Haredas, her mentor, would always say she could put every meteorological device to shame when it comes to her weather readings and predictions.

But somehow, even the prospect of it snowing tonight (which usually makes her excited because she loves watching it), wasn’t able to lift her sulky mood up.

She should have taken up the shift at the weather station tonight. She’d rather watch over the changes in the climate patterns instead of spending the night alone and watching the kitchen tiles.

With a dramatic sigh, she slid off the barstool and decided to head towards her home office to open her laptop and check some e-mails. That should keep her busy for a while.

She gave a cursory glance at the delectably packed dinner, Sanji-kun had thoughtfully sent especially made for her (so says the note that came with it), knowing that she won’t even bother cooking when she’s the only one in the house.

Thank heavens for him. She won’t starve for tonight. But she wasn’t in the mood to eat. She’ll heat it up later once the need for nourishment arises.

For now she’ll just settle for some good old coffee.

A few minutes later, she was sitting in front of her desk with the steaming cup in one hand as she scrolled her e-mails, utterly bored out of her wits. There was nothing significant in there, nothing that needs her expertise. Her team that was working tonight was handling everything superbly.

It made her purse her lips as she settled back on her chair. Not that she was complaining or anything… she does love it when everything was going on smoothly. Her job rarely gives her such consideration.

But she was really, really getting bored.

The house was too quiet. And she’s all alone.

Nami huffed. Home alone. On the first night of snow fall.

She made a mistake of taking a leave today, giving in to her mentor’s demand that she should take a break every once in a while. Had she known that she was going be all by herself tonight then she would have…

Oh! She can probably still head to the weather station tonight. It’s not late after all!  

She stood up and headed towards the bedroom to change clothes. But the moment she passed by doors leading to the balcony, she changed her mind.  

It will definitely snow. Heading out will be a bad idea.

Nami pinched the bridge of her nose, frustration rising out of her. Why was she so restless tonight?

Usually she had her whole day planned ahead. There was a certain task or thing to do in every hour of her day.

Maybe that’s what’s throwing her off. She was so used to her day being busy, so used to moving ceaselessly, that doing nothing was something new to her.

And her body and mind seems to be rejecting the idea of respite that it was making her fidgety. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm her hyperactive nerves and brain. She should just learn how to enjoy this moment. This rest. This calm in between weather storms and responsibilities.

Her eyes flicked open immediately. Gosh, she sucks at meditating. She cannot even focus her mind to stop thinking.

Maybe she should not have spent the whole morning and the afternoon napping. That was definitely a wrong move. Because now, she was awake, active and on edge as the night deepens. Her brain filled with energy and looking for an outlet… something worthwhile to do.

She sat on the bed and made a grab for her phone. It was silent all day. No calls, no messages… something that rarely happens. She dialled a number, waiting for the familiar ring. The monotonous busy tone greeted her and she frowned. She pressed the option for voice message knowing it will be a futile effort.

“I’m bored you know.”

That was all she said before she sent it. She placed her phone back on the bedside table, before walking out of the bedroom again.

Some minutes later she was back in her office, curled up in her reading chair, her coffee still warm on the table beside her, absorbed in a book just had forgotten she had recently bought. It was all about a magical coffee shop and talking cats. It was a charming read and did a good job of holding her interest for a while.

Until she finished it in one sitting. Nami had always been a fast reader.

And now she’s back to moseying around the house, scouring every nook and cranny for everything and nothing, with a cup of a now cold coffee in her hand.

She stood in the center of the living room, looking blankly at the hanging lights with its warm glow and its weird shape. Usopp was the one who created it (as he dabbled in one of the many art hobbies he seemed to find time for) and gave it to her as a homecoming gift.

A thought suddenly occurred to Nami.  Even though all lights were all on inside the house, giving it a warm, comforting glow… it still felt a bit gloomy somehow.

She exhaled loudly. Maybe she should just sleep this whole day off. Maybe tomorrow would be different.

She disposed the remaining coffee in the sink, leaving the cup as part of tomorrow’s dishwashing duties. She deposited Sanji’s food inside the fridge. That’ll be for tomorrow as well. Nami decided.

The orange-haired woman switched off some lights, leaving the whole living room area and kitchen darkened. She left one floor lamp on for illumination. She didn’t like it when the whole place is dark and she’s all alone.

Then she trudged upstairs, footsteps heavy even in her fluffy house slippers.

Outside the weather continued to shift much colder, more somnolent. Despite the superb heating system Franky has generously installed in the house, Nami felt a slight chill, caressing her skin.

It’s going to snow soon.

With a dejected sigh, she decided to wait for it to fall, watching it in one of the room’s windows while tucked and wrapped under the cosy covers of her bed.

But she hesitated when she reached the bedroom’s doorway. It was sinking deeply into her that she was alone. Tonight. During the first fall of snow.

And it was making her sad.

Leaning against the doorframe, she regarded the darkened room. There was a bit of light coming in from the outside caused by the city lights twinkling from afar.

Nami gazed at the bed the other half dishevelled, with the thick blanket crumpled to one side, the sheet beneath it looked like someone had tossed and turned in them. A mere indication that it was occupied some hours ago.

The other half…

Was neat. Tidy even. The sheets were straight, unwrinkled and totally undisturbed. The blanket tucked snugged on the other side of the bed. The pillow was smooth, fluffed to perfection as if no head bothered to lay down on it for the past hours… or the past days even.

This time Nami pouted. Because now… now she understood all the restlessness in her.

She approached the bed, switching the lamp on—the one on her side—as she crawled into the bed and lying down so she can stare at the empty space beside her.

Nami was… absolutely missing her bed mate.

She groaned loudly at that. As if the admission pained her in more ways than possible. She was a tad upset to be feeling this way. She wasn’t the clingy kind. She’s independent and can move and live on her own.

But…

Sometimes tides shift and the weather changes.

Her hand reached out toward the empty space, smoothing the undisturbed surface of the bed.

The fabric felt soft against her hand.

She shifted forward slightly, moving towards the part that she doesn’t really occupy.

It was his space after all. Even the bedside table near it spoke of the ownership of a totally different person.

Hers has two of her to-read-books neatly stacked up, a small money tree with orange gemstones from Robin, a scented candle from Vivi, a hand lotion that smelled like her favourite tangerines, a bracelet given by her sister Nojiko and a small slim vase alongside the lamp with a now dried flower because the person who likes leaving a fresh one for her was not there to change it.

His has a bedside clock, a lamp that was the exact match of hers, an empty water flask, some coins, his car keys and a picture frame with her in it, taken during a trip on the beach before she left for the city years ago. She remembered how she actually forced him to have it, teased him that he should be so lucky to have it, a remembrance lest he forgot who he owes the most money from.

When she came back and randomly found it hidden in one of his apartment drawers, her heart skipped a beat. Framed and kept like a treasure, believing she would never, ever lay her eyes on it.

But she did. And that was it for her. She never let him stray away from her from that moment on.

Well… except now. Now that he wasn’t here and she can’t see him or feel him.

And it was driving her absolutely crazy.

She rolled out of the bed. The restless energy back again. She shoved her feet on her fluffy slippers and swiped the pajama top he carelessly left on top of the armchair. She realized how much it smelled of him as she put it on top of her own pajamas. His scent calmed her a bit, bringing a certain warmth that soothed her frayed nerves. 

This should do for now.

She headed out of the bedroom with no particular destination in mind. She just walked around, spending some time at the room that served as his training area, staring at the neat stack of weights, the unused bench, and the rolled training mat on the side before gliding out and probing the other areas of the house that had remnants of him.

Then she settled in front of the balcony door, watching the world outside. Waiting. For the snow to fall, for the ennui to disappear, for the slight clench in her heart caused by his absence to vanish, for tomorrow…

…for HIM.

She pressed her forehead against the glass pane. Cold underneath her skin.

Damn it all, she was missing him so bad right now.

Nami made a mental note to herself. The next time he flies out for one of his kendo competitions. She’s definitely coming with him.

Her eyes fluttered as she watched the night continue on ahead and lights flicker in the distance.

And when her eyes finally drifted close and sleep overtook her senses. The first snow of the season started falling down.

————————

Zoro sighed in relief as he stepped inside the inviting warmth and away from the outside cold. He brushed off some snowflakes that dusted his coat before shrugging it off and hanging it on one of the wall hooks near the door.

The traffic jam tonight caused by the snow was one for the books.

Good thing though his flight had touchdown before it actually started snowing. And it was even better that he was already halfway heading home before it began to fall.

Still that didn’t exempt him from getting caught in traffic.

He wasn’t due to be back today. He still had two days to spend at the competition, with all those formalities of meeting the sponsors and some of the other dojo masters. But he convinced Koushiro that it would be better if he be the one to accommodate them instead, knowing how Zoro usually lacks the patience to deal with all that shenanigans.

His sensei just gave him an understanding nod and a chuckle before saying, “Ah.” Like that simple word just summarized everything.

So he was in the first flight back home. Back to her. And it didn’t really help when he had gotten a signal at the airport and heard her voice in the message she sent.

He didn’t tell her he was coming back now. Sometimes it is much better to surprise her, so he can bask in the way her brown eyes light up, how that warm, almost glowing smile appear on her lips. Nami rarely gets surprise. And it is actually a treat to see when she does.

The entire house was silent. Zoro left his luggage near the front door and headed straight upstairs. He surmised Nami would be sleeping already. After spending so much time trying to kill her boredom and flitting about the entire house.

The moment he climbed the last step of the stairs, he froze.

Nami was slouched right in front of the balcony doors, head leaning on the glass, her hair covering her face.

He felt his heart jumped on his throat. What in the fucking hell happened here?

He ran up to her, bending down so he could check her.

Good fucking grief! This woman is really going to be the death of him.

Why in the world was she sleeping on floor while leaning against the balcony doors in a position that clearly says this could be a crime scene?!

He’s going to throttle her when she wakes up.

Zoro nudged her slightly. “Oi, witch.”

He was only answered by a soft snore as Nami drooped down some more, almost settling on the floor, still deep in her slumber.

“Nami,” he tried again and shook his head in disbelief when he didn’t receive any answer.

Freaking woman nearly gave him a heart attack.

He rubbed a hand against his face before running it against his hair, chuckling.

Zoro brushed the strands of her hair away from her face. Nami didn’t even stir. She just continued sleeping, snugged and seemingly cozy inside his oversized pajama top.

Whatever the hell she’s doing here, he’s just gonna chuck it in one of her weird antics that he can’t say he wasn’t fond of.

He carefully adjusted her position so he can lift her up in his arms.

He barely made three steps when she suddenly spoke.

“Zoro?”

“Hnn…” he grunted as he continued walking.

“You’re back!” She whispered almost excitedly, an almost glowing smile appearing on her face even as she looked at him sleepily.

“Yeah.”

She shifted slightly; arms reaching up to wrapped them around his neck, pressing her face against the crook of his neck to nuzzle it. Welcoming him home.

She seemed to take in his scent and his presence for a moment. Before tilting her head so she can look up at him. 

“Where are we going?”

Zoro smirked. “Taking my wife to bed.”

“Oh,” she breathed out. Then she giggled, seemingly re-energized. This time she nimbly, shifted her body so she can wrap both of her legs around him.

“Welcome home then husband,” she murmured as she planted her lips on his, in the lightest, most welcoming kiss. “Tadaima.”

See how easily HE follows HER orders? Tch!

Still insane face cards!

Kyaaaaah!!! Yessss!

Points of No Return

SCRIBBLE #19: SLEEP UP

Disclaimer: One Piece (and its characters) belongs to Eiichiro Oda-sensei.

Reminder: I have no beta-reader. Any grammatical and spelling errors are solely mine.

Warning: OOC possible. One shot.

Rating: T

Note:  Well I was supposed to work on some of the Christmas prompts but had to get this one out of my system.

Summary: Then her face broke into the widest, brightest grin Zoro only sees when she’s about to make someone’s life a living hell.

“Zoro!”

He inwardly scowled at the sound. Annoying and persistent, that voice always penetrated the barriers of slumber no matter how deep he went down in it.

“Zoro!”

There was a slight twitch on his eyebrow, an involuntary one. An unconscious response to the sound that invaded his much-coveted repose.

“Zoro!”

This time his brows furrowed as he gritted his teeth. What does she need now? He was downright sure nothing is particularly happening on the ship right now. That was why he decided to just doze off against the upper deck’s railing for the meantime, just a few feet away from her tangerine trees she so cherish.

It was the perfect spot to nap, considering some of their crew mates opted to do their shenanigans down below the lawn deck.

“Zorooo!”

There was it again. Relentless. Like the crash of the ocean waves against the rocks. Incapable of quiet even for just a moment.

Can’t he get some rest? He was pretty sure she knows he was up until the wee hours of the morning, alert and on guard, as she caught on her beauty sleep ever so peacefully.

He hated that she always wakes him up whenever she sees him sleeping about. He almost wants to believe that it was an unhealthy compulsion on her part.

Or maybe she just really wants to get on his nerves.

Why can’t she just leave him alone? It’s not like he wasn’t on his feet immediately the moment she starts barking orders about the weather and where to steer the ship so they could all get away in one piece.

Right now he knows that there wasn’t any immediate danger, or any enemies attacking them. There are no fights going on… just the usual rambunctious laughter of their captain filling the air.

The day itself was peaceful; almost boring that it was making the rubber captain extremely hyperactive.

Does she want him to rein Luffy in? Is that why she…

“Zoro!”

Damn it all to hell!

This time he didn’t bother stopping the scowl that appeared on his face. The lax muscles in his body tightened in anticipation of the tension she usually brings forth whenever she’s waking him up for something, along with the verbal match they would definitely end up in (before a certain aho cook decides to stick his nose in, as her self-proclaimed knight-in-shitty-armor).

Still, he decided to ignore her again. Maybe for the last time before he let his temper gets the better of him (something that only she can effortlessly do, witch that she is).

Just one final attempt of defiance before he… succumbs to… it.

As usual.

“Zoro! I swear—”

“WHAT?!” Zoro finally exploded, now vexed and at his wits end. “What. Now. NAMI?!” He growled, punctuating each word as he sat straight and rubbed a hand on his face exasperatedly. “Why are you—”

There was silence around him. Not a single sound except the soft rustling of the mikan trees leaves as the ocean breeze swept past by it. The orange globes swayed slightly as Zoro removed the hand on his face so he can stare…

…at three pairs of eyes gazing back at him in astonishment, utterly surprised at his outburst.

Chopper was sitting down on the deck, grinding some herbal plants so he could turn them into powdered medicine. He had stop mid-grind, and instead was blinking repeatedly at him. His reindeer eyes, big and soft, yet filled with curiosity.

Usopp’s mouth was hanging open, like he was about to say something as he pointed on the unfurled chart that Nami was holding up.

And Nami…

Nami was staring at him with a totally surprised looked on her face. Her brown eyes were wide, eyebrows almost disappearing against her bangs from being raised too high.

Nobody said a word for a whole minute. Everyone seemed to be frozen as they all tried to figure out what the hell just happened.

“Uhmm…” Nami began hesitantly as her eyes darted towards Usopp and Chopper before going back to Zoro. She still looks totally bewildered. “I… wasn’t calling you or anything.” Her eyes shifted again towards the other two as if she was silently asking them to back her up.

Then Chopper nodded. “U-huh. She wasn’t Zoro.” He glanced at their swordsman again who seemed to be fully awake now and looking just as befuddled as them. “Nami was just talking to us. She never called you…”

A cough sputtered from Usopp’s direction. A poor attempt at covering the laughter that wanted to escape him. He fought the corners of his mouth from lifting up into a shit-eating grin. “Yup,” he managed to choke out after much effort. His shoulders shook as he glanced at the orange-haired woman and the green-haired man.

Oh!

Zoro just stared back at them in his usual impassive way. Even as the heat began to crawl up his neck and creep along his cheeks.

Did he just…?

No need to be a genius to figure out what just happened.

“Well…” Nami suddenly started in an unusually calm tone and a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders that sent a feeling of trepidation to Zoro, Usopp and Chopper.

She rolled the chart in her hands, tapping one end against the palm of her hand to even it out.

Then her face broke into the widest, brightest grin Zoro only sees when she’s about to make someone’s life a living hell.

“It looks like you were dreaming of me, Zoro.”

She threw him a mischievous look that made him want to crawl to deepest parts of hell.

“That’s so sweet of you!”

Wrapped in You

Disclaimer: One Piece and its characters belong to Eiichiro Oda..

Nothing too complicated, just a bit of Christmas fluff to warm the heart.

Pairing: Zoro x Nami

Rating: T

Prompt: #4 - Christmas Blankets

Genre: Romance/AU

The first thing Zoro notices as he emerges from sleep is the scent.

Not the smell of the mandarins that always sit in a bowl on Nami’s kitchen table.

Not the soft mandarin-and-almond cookies she bakes with an almost heartbreaking stubbornness every holiday, enough to turn her home into a Christmas bakery. No. The scent he catches now is even softer, a sweet freshness that tickles his nose, not unpleasantly, just… too familiar. It’s the smell of Nami’s hands when she gives him (not so) gentle taps on the cheek to wake him, when she brushes past him laughing, shaking her long red hair, when she nestles against him under the pretense of being “just a little cold.” But there’s something else beneath the mandarin. A warm, almost amber note that makes Zoro feel as if he’s sinking into something soft and dangerously pleasant, like an embrace that lasts one second too long.

It’s the scent of Nami’s skin.

And he knows it perfectly, because he spent much of the night before sitting too close to her on the couch under her Swedish Christmas blanket, pretending not to notice that every time she laughed, she rested her head on his shoulder for just a second too long.

Zoro opens one eye and understands a few things immediately:

He’s not on the couch.

He didn’t end up sleeping on the floor, a Christmas miracle.

He’s in Nami’s bed. Or rather, with Nami in her bed.

Her head rests on his chest, one leg casually thrown over his while her arms wrap around his waist like he’s a living stress pillow. The blanket covers them up to their chins, soft and warm, scented with her and perhaps now a little of him. Zoro breathes slowly, very slowly, as if moving too much might break something, or shatter the spell.

“Mmmh…” Nami stirs slightly, the tip of her nose brushing his collarbone. “Why are you awake? It’s Christmas… sleep,” she murmurs without opening her eyes, curling closer against him.

Zoro closes his eyes for a moment, silently applauding his own restraint. Her voice, low and husky with sleep, sends shivers down his spine.

“If you move, I’ll throw you out of bed. Consider that a gentle warning.”

He lowers his gaze. Nami’s mouth is just inches from his bare chest, apparently at some point during the night, he’s inexplicably shed at least two layers of clothing.

“I’m not moving,” he mutters, his voice deeper and rougher than intended. “You’re the one… taking up all my personal space.”

“It’s my house. My blanket. My bed.”

“Is it… my chest?”

She finally lifts her gaze, eyes still hazy with sleep, soft wavy hair mussed around her face, and the cutest little pout he’s ever seen (how can she be this adorable already awake?). A strand of hair brushes his jaw and Zoro swallows, loudly.

Nami takes in their position and, now fully awake, lets a slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips. “You look comfortable, Roronoa.”

“I look trapped.”

She raises an eyebrow, mischief lighting up her face. “Hmm… interesting how those two things always seem to coincide when you’re with me.”

Zoro huffs but makes no attempt to move. No need, she notices anyway. Every little gesture, every micro-breath, every tensed muscle he tries to mask… she reads him like an open book. She notices the way his shoulders tighten as he tries to straighten up, trying to appear stoic, while his fists clench ever so slightly without his awareness, and the involuntary pressure of his body against hers. Every attempt to seem distant or indifferent fails spectacularly. “Why aren’t we on the couch?” he asks, trying for a neutral tone, with little success.

Nami curls closer, burying her nose in his neck as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Because you insisted on helping me clean up after everyone left. No easy feat, by the way. You had to fight Sanji into leaving, which he did only because he got the chance to walk Robin home. And then… you fell asleep on the couch while I put away the last things… alone.”

Zoro lowers his gaze, embarrassed. “I didn’t-”

“I carried you here, not without effort, because you were too tipsy to walk on your own and I didn’t want your lumbar support on my conscience.” She laughs softly against his skin, and the sound nearly makes him lose his balance.

“And… this?” he asks vaguely, gesturing at their decidedly non-platonic position.

“You moved closer. I was cold. The blanket was big enough for both of us…” A pause. “And I don’t recall you protesting.”

Zoro inhales slowly, searching for words that aren’t please never move again.

It’s never been easy to admit, not even to himself: for as long as he can remember, something between them has always vibrated stronger than mere friendship should allow. And yet, every time, both have hesitated, afraid to take the step that might change everything. Afraid to ruin what they had, afraid to find out the other didn’t feel the same. And so they’ve always held back.

“Nami…”

She lifts her gaze, eyes alive with that curious, mischievous spark that betrays every hidden thought, cheeks pink, lips curved in a barely-there smile. “It’s Christmas, Zoro.”

“…and?”

“So we can allow ourselves… a little indulgence.” She leans in, slow and deliberate, her breath brushing his lips. “Just for today.”

Zoro’s heart stutters, once, twice, maybe ten times. “Just today?” he asks, voice rough, almost hoping for a denial.

She looks at him for a long, intimate moment, almost serious. Then the smile melts onto her face like molten sugar.

“Maybe tomorrow, too.” She rests her forehead against his. “Depends if you keep warming me like this, it would save me some on the electricity bill.“

Zoro silently thanks every Christmas spirit, every small miracle that brought him here, into her arms, under that blanket scented with mandarins and all things good.

And without thinking, perhaps precisely because he’s spent months, years, overthinking everything, he lifts a hand, slowly, as if afraid to break something fragile, and rests it on the bare skin of her back under her pajamas. The touch is slow, deliberate, a gesture that speaks louder than any words.

Nami holds her breath, curving slightly toward him. The contact sparks something in both of them, the warmth of the blanket amplifies every sensation, every brush of skin, every small shiver. Every second echoes the desire they’ve never confessed, the tension carefully accumulated over the years.

She moves closer, her chest brushing his, and Zoro feels his heart race. The world outside their little space ceases to exist.

Without thinking, as if his hand is guiding his heart, Zoro tilts his head and brushes his lips against hers in a slow, delicate kiss, at first barely a touch, exploratory. Nami responds immediately, tilting her head, parting her lips slightly, leaning closer, and the kiss deepens, warm, full, and carrying the silent promise they’ve both been too afraid to voice.

Under the blanket, it’s warmer. Riskier, perhaps, but inevitable. Every breath, every touch, every heartbeat says what words never could.

“Merry Christmas, Nami.”

“Merry Christmas, Zoro.”

And for at least ten more minutes, neither makes any move to let go.

Kryru at it again with a submission for day 2 of our ZoNa Holiday 2025 event, for the theme of Christmas Shopping Together! ~ Maiden

Our first entry for the ZoNa Holiday event comes from the amazing @kryru! A perfect representation of theme 1 - Lump of Coal! ~ Maiden

ZoNa Holiday Event 2025 Day 1: Lump of Coal