[ she really shouldn't be surprised, with how often he finishes a day with a varied level of injury, the way the scrapes and pain seem to be just as much a part of the training as the actual fighting itself. stupid tough boy stuff, she thinks, since any kind of fighting she does typically revolves around her actually being as far away as possible to avoid any kind of damage to her own body. she'd never personally understand the thrill and satisfaction that comes with all the grunting and sword clashing that seems to get him off.
but surprise or not, the innate expression of concern still finds its way into her eyes as she darts forward to position herself in that open space he offers between his legs, kneeling down on her stockings and bending forward to check the state of the bandages.
while she's no where near the status of the nurse, perona's definitely become somewhat accustomed to the role, no matter how much she might protest the idea. ]
Not a big deal — how ungrateful can you be!! I work so hard, entirely against my will, to patch you up and you don't even care! You just run in and ruin everything!
[ she barks her complaints, masking it with sheer annoyance, all to better disguise the actual concern that nearly shakes in her voice, especially as she keeps the attention of her eyes focused on his chest, fingers massaging gently around the abdomen as she tries to carefully peel the bandages back to look behind them. ]
So stupid ... [ she mutters with pouted lips, sighing through her nose to minimize the wave of relief in seeing no major damages. ]
[ even for chopper, zoro was a terrible patient. he'd never been one to readily accept his own limitations, endlessly exacerbating injuries before they'd even begun to heal. he'd begun to suspect the reindeer had a supply of extra bandages ferreted away somewhere; he never seemed to run out, despite wrapping zoro like a damned mummy on a regular basis.
his head dropped back to rest against the stone, relaxing his shoulders as she looked him over. this part had become routine now too - perona would berate him, but patch him back up, and zoro would let her, with the occasional toothless grumblings. she would pretend she wasn't worried about him, and he would pretend that he didn't care if she was.
he had noticed, however. she didn't need to - this path was his decision, and she shouldn't bear the weight of his decision. it was why he never let on the actual toll his training took on his body, his own misguided form of protection. ]
Quit calling me stupid.
[ there was probably an easier way to do this, he realized belatedly. zoro nodded his head in the direction of his shirt. ]
[ really, she tries to think of it as just patching up one of her toys, the ways she's done plenty of times before, because at the end of the day, that's precisely what he is, just another toy for her to play with. even if he happens to be far more human than all the ones she's used to. ]
Stuuuupid. [ she repeats, mocking him with a lowness to her own voice to try to match his, because of course she's that level of childish.
when he gestures at his shirt, she frowns at him. ]
I'm supposed to be dragging you back to the room. Leave it to you to make everything that much harder for me. Ugh — [ her fingers give a pinch to his shirt and a light pull. ] Might as well. Go, take it off.
[ really? there was no way he sounded like that, and he refused to dignify it with more than an irritable grunt. ]
Tch. You're the one always complaining about me getting blood on the sheets.
[ of his bed.
he straightened himself up, moving just enough to be able to shrug out of the shirt, tossing it in a rumpled pile somewhere off to the right. whatever, he could deal with it later. the other wrappings still looked to be clean enough, at least. ]
Which you can fix by not bleeding in the first place!
[ and therefore not getting blood all over what is her bed, simply due to the fact that she spends more time in it than he does (on account of her many naps while he's out training, a challenger to zoro's own nap records).
as soon as he tosses the shirt away, she gets a closer look to his chest, which she's already become very closely familiar with, making sure that none of his injuries become as permanent as that prominent diagonal slash — or the cut to his eye, which had definitely been one of her bigger and more worrisome challenges. it might even be the reason she'd started to become even more attentive to him, never wanting to repeat the panic of that day, hours chewing her nails off at his bed side, waiting for him to wake back up. when he finally did, acting as nonchalant about it as ever, she'd thrown the entire first aid kit at his head, shouting insults as she darted out of the room, annoyed tears bursting from her eyes, swearing to never help him again.
and yet, there she is now, fingers carefully drawing back the wrap of the bandages to redo them as to fix their misalignment from all his repeated fighting. ]
You still owe me for this. [ she grumbles under her voice, lips pursed in her pout as she keeps her gaze downward. it's not the first he "owes her", with this invisible debt only piling up higher. ] No training tomorrow. You have to spend it with me.
[ wounds were to be expected. the humandrills weren’t pushovers, but they were pale comparison to mihawk himself; if he could avoid their every blow, then he wasn’t pushing himself hard enough. with every day bringing him closer to their sabaody reunion, he wouldn’t waste what limited time he did have. much as he wanted to see luffy, how could he face him, if he hadn’t given his everything here? what right did he have to do anything less, knowing what he’d suffered in zoro’s absence?
losing his eye had only served to steel his resolve. it had been a heavy blow to his pride, yes, but the loss of his peripheral vision had hurt him far more. the blind spot was a whole new vulnerability he needed to account for, and as he doubled down on his efforts, the cuts and bruises became more frequent. he resisted less when perona treated him after that – as was his usual, he’d just ignored her when she said she wouldn’t help him again, showing up at her door the next day, bloodied and carrying the same first aid kit she’d ricocheted off his forehead.
it was easier than trying to do it himself, he’d reasoned. that it also provided a break from the silence, stifling compared to the liveliness of the ship he’d left behind, was an added benefit.
at the suggestion that he take an entire day off, he finally lifted his head, eye narrowed as he took in her sullen expression. the pout had never been effective on him, despite her best efforts. ]
You don't need a whole day. Whatever I owe you, you can have it tonight.
[ even though his question is probably rhetorical, she fights the temptation to answer with a "something stupid", since she really can't seem to understand the point of all of this. the problem is, it hasn't really mattered if she understands or not; she's been helping him through it anyway, keeping him updated with the news on the paper, tending his wounds, guiding him around the island, because whatever that's so important to him, a part of her just feels inclined to help him.
why? is the actual question that needs answering, since it's not like she really gets much benefit out of it. she could leave this place and find something better, somewhere people would actually spoil her with all the goods and sweets and luxury she wants — so why is she still here?
it might the same unknown reason she stayed at his bedside for all those hours of waiting for him to regain consciousness when his eye was lost. when he showed up at her door again after that, even after her loud proclamation that she was done, she'd realized she'd hoped, maybe even knew, he'd go to her again.
is that why she stays?
instead of giving any kind of answer, something that would give away the hush of surface thoughts, she pouts instead, displaying her usual annoyance with him as she adjusted the bandages back into a more secure wrapping. ]
Ehh!? [ she finally looks back up, nose scrunching at his compromise. ] With everything I do, I deserve even more than a day!
[ mean! MEAN!!
she slumps back on her heels, her brows knit, her expression looking plenty cross. ]
You'll probably just wander off tonight looking for another fight anyway.
[ zoro winced at the pitch of her voice, the exclamation making his ears ring. ]
I already told you I'd stay, idiot!
[ perhaps not in so many words, but his meaning should have been clear enough. if he had said he would pay her back tonight, that obviously meant that he intended on staying - he wouldn't have said it otherwise. with how they usually ended up, limbs entwined, perona fit snugly against his chest, it wasn't as though he could have left without her knowing anyway. truth be told, zoro didn't want to.
bandages secured once more, he flexed his shoulder in order to test his range of motion, to see if they pulled anywhere. ]
You still haven't told me what you want.
[ a muscle worked in his jaw, and he had to bite back the 'and don't say a day' that hung on the tip of his tongue. ]
Edited (ignore me, wording was bugging me) 2025-04-01 04:31 (UTC)
[ which only makes her pout all the more prominent on her lips, since perona is someone who doesn't align too well with zoro's way of simply expecting people to comprehend his signals, not when she prefers the much more direct approach.
she watches the movement of his shoulder, eyesight drawn to the firm build of muscle of his bicep, similar to strong form of his chest, still plenty durable even with the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. her close attention of him has been enough that she's noticed the growth of his body in the passing weeks, months, how he'd aimed to get stronger and the sight of him shows every bit of proof of it. the bigger he gets, the more she wants him stretched over her like a weighted blanket.
silently, she raises her hand, a pointed index brushing over the center line between his pecs, up and down strokes lightly caressing. ]
Spoil me. [ she finally answers, leaning up on her knees before she lifts herself one leg at a time, pulling his inward so she can climb up to sit over his thighs, trapping him (in spirit) between her knees, knowing full well he could lift her off anytime he wants. her chest presses forward, the tightness of her long sleeve top nudging against him, cleavage visible along the hem of the u-neck. ] No fighting. No swords. Be very nice to me.
[ his brow twitched, jaw tightening in his exasperation. ]
Listen when people are talking to you.
[ although his own execution left something to be desired, zoro had always appreciated directness. bullheaded as he was blunt, he always said what he meant – but as to whether that point came across to everyone else? well, that was on them to figure it out. perona, on the other hand, was far more transparent in her wants, usually expressing them in ways that even zoro couldn’t have misinterpreted.
and, with the way her finger traced its path up his chest, touch as light as one of her ghosts, zoro had a pretty strong idea what it was she wanted now.
there was no resistance on his part, his only movement to arrange himself in a way that would allow her to sit more comfortably astride his lap. his hands came to rest on her thighs, thumbs teasing at the upper hem of her stockings, smoothing over that perfect line where elastic hugged tight against pale skin. ]
Nice, huh?
[ there was a deliberateness in the way his gaze traveled lower, lingering on the deep cut of her top and the way her breasts pushed up against him now. she had obviously been wanting his attention, and there was no doubt that she had it now, arousal heating his insides just as swiftly as any battle.
closing the small distance remaining, zoro leaned in close enough that his lips brushed the side of her neck, breath fanning hot against her ear. ]
Just don’t start whining if I get blood on you again.
[ she'd never actually say that she's attracted to him, even if there's plenty of evidence for the proof, since she'd hardly be watching him that closely day by day, admiring his strength and muscles on the battlefield for any other reason (because carrying about strategy or any of the dumbness of his training is completely out of the question). but at the same time, she's not exactly hesistant in showing it either.
while his lower abdomen might be wrapped in bandages, there's plenty of skin to caress as she rises higher, the tips of her fingers dragging up over his chest, pecs notably already bigger than they'd been when he first arrived on the island. her thumbs brush over his nipples, one following the diagonal trace of his large scar before hands grasp over his arms, biceps so deliciously firm and tight that the arousal of touching him reaches down to her cunt.
and she definitely likes it when he touches her too, when the heat of his hands can reach through her stockings teasing all the other places those fingers can go. ]
You better not or I'll just let you bleed out here by yourself.
[ she won't. they both know that by now, that everything out of her mouth is all talk and the need she often has for him, in her company, in her bed, simply in her, is stronger than any bite of words she could cry out.
besides, with his breath burning heat to her ear, every exhale making her tingle with further arousal, she can barely put any bite into her words as her lashes shutter closed and takes in every close sensation of him, her hips beginning to rock slowly over his crotch, pressing down tightly in a teasing grind to urge a reaction from his cock.
nudging in closer against him, she reaches up, fingers catching on the top hem of her shirt and giving it a slight tug. it isn't enough for her breasts to spill out but it does give an even more upward push of the cleavage, almost in offering. ] Touch me.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
but surprise or not, the innate expression of concern still finds its way into her eyes as she darts forward to position herself in that open space he offers between his legs, kneeling down on her stockings and bending forward to check the state of the bandages.
while she's no where near the status of the nurse, perona's definitely become somewhat accustomed to the role, no matter how much she might protest the idea. ]
Not a big deal — how ungrateful can you be!! I work so hard, entirely against my will, to patch you up and you don't even care! You just run in and ruin everything!
[ she barks her complaints, masking it with sheer annoyance, all to better disguise the actual concern that nearly shakes in her voice, especially as she keeps the attention of her eyes focused on his chest, fingers massaging gently around the abdomen as she tries to carefully peel the bandages back to look behind them. ]
So stupid ... [ she mutters with pouted lips, sighing through her nose to minimize the wave of relief in seeing no major damages. ]
no subject
his head dropped back to rest against the stone, relaxing his shoulders as she looked him over. this part had become routine now too - perona would berate him, but patch him back up, and zoro would let her, with the occasional toothless grumblings. she would pretend she wasn't worried about him, and he would pretend that he didn't care if she was.
he had noticed, however. she didn't need to - this path was his decision, and she shouldn't bear the weight of his decision. it was why he never let on the actual toll his training took on his body, his own misguided form of protection. ]
Quit calling me stupid.
[ there was probably an easier way to do this, he realized belatedly. zoro nodded his head in the direction of his shirt. ]
You want me to take this off?
no subject
Stuuuupid. [ she repeats, mocking him with a lowness to her own voice to try to match his, because of course she's that level of childish.
when he gestures at his shirt, she frowns at him. ]
I'm supposed to be dragging you back to the room. Leave it to you to make everything that much harder for me. Ugh — [ her fingers give a pinch to his shirt and a light pull. ] Might as well. Go, take it off.
no subject
Tch. You're the one always complaining about me getting blood on the sheets.
[ of his bed.
he straightened himself up, moving just enough to be able to shrug out of the shirt, tossing it in a rumpled pile somewhere off to the right. whatever, he could deal with it later. the other wrappings still looked to be clean enough, at least. ]
no subject
[ and therefore not getting blood all over what is her bed, simply due to the fact that she spends more time in it than he does (on account of her many naps while he's out training, a challenger to zoro's own nap records).
as soon as he tosses the shirt away, she gets a closer look to his chest, which she's already become very closely familiar with, making sure that none of his injuries become as permanent as that prominent diagonal slash — or the cut to his eye, which had definitely been one of her bigger and more worrisome challenges. it might even be the reason she'd started to become even more attentive to him, never wanting to repeat the panic of that day, hours chewing her nails off at his bed side, waiting for him to wake back up. when he finally did, acting as nonchalant about it as ever, she'd thrown the entire first aid kit at his head, shouting insults as she darted out of the room, annoyed tears bursting from her eyes, swearing to never help him again.
and yet, there she is now, fingers carefully drawing back the wrap of the bandages to redo them as to fix their misalignment from all his repeated fighting. ]
You still owe me for this. [ she grumbles under her voice, lips pursed in her pout as she keeps her gaze downward. it's not the first he "owes her", with this invisible debt only piling up higher. ] No training tomorrow. You have to spend it with me.
no subject
[ wounds were to be expected. the humandrills weren’t pushovers, but they were pale comparison to mihawk himself; if he could avoid their every blow, then he wasn’t pushing himself hard enough. with every day bringing him closer to their sabaody reunion, he wouldn’t waste what limited time he did have. much as he wanted to see luffy, how could he face him, if he hadn’t given his everything here? what right did he have to do anything less, knowing what he’d suffered in zoro’s absence?
losing his eye had only served to steel his resolve. it had been a heavy blow to his pride, yes, but the loss of his peripheral vision had hurt him far more. the blind spot was a whole new vulnerability he needed to account for, and as he doubled down on his efforts, the cuts and bruises became more frequent. he resisted less when perona treated him after that – as was his usual, he’d just ignored her when she said she wouldn’t help him again, showing up at her door the next day, bloodied and carrying the same first aid kit she’d ricocheted off his forehead.
it was easier than trying to do it himself, he’d reasoned. that it also provided a break from the silence, stifling compared to the liveliness of the ship he’d left behind, was an added benefit.
at the suggestion that he take an entire day off, he finally lifted his head, eye narrowed as he took in her sullen expression. the pout had never been effective on him, despite her best efforts. ]
You don't need a whole day. Whatever I owe you, you can have it tonight.
no subject
why? is the actual question that needs answering, since it's not like she really gets much benefit out of it. she could leave this place and find something better, somewhere people would actually spoil her with all the goods and sweets and luxury she wants — so why is she still here?
it might the same unknown reason she stayed at his bedside for all those hours of waiting for him to regain consciousness when his eye was lost. when he showed up at her door again after that, even after her loud proclamation that she was done, she'd realized she'd hoped, maybe even knew, he'd go to her again.
is that why she stays?
instead of giving any kind of answer, something that would give away the hush of surface thoughts, she pouts instead, displaying her usual annoyance with him as she adjusted the bandages back into a more secure wrapping. ]
Ehh!? [ she finally looks back up, nose scrunching at his compromise. ] With everything I do, I deserve even more than a day!
[ mean! MEAN!!
she slumps back on her heels, her brows knit, her expression looking plenty cross. ]
You'll probably just wander off tonight looking for another fight anyway.
no subject
I already told you I'd stay, idiot!
[ perhaps not in so many words, but his meaning should have been clear enough. if he had said he would pay her back tonight, that obviously meant that he intended on staying - he wouldn't have said it otherwise. with how they usually ended up, limbs entwined, perona fit snugly against his chest, it wasn't as though he could have left without her knowing anyway. truth be told, zoro didn't want to.
bandages secured once more, he flexed his shoulder in order to test his range of motion, to see if they pulled anywhere. ]
You still haven't told me what you want.
[ a muscle worked in his jaw, and he had to bite back the 'and don't say a day' that hung on the tip of his tongue. ]
no subject
[ which only makes her pout all the more prominent on her lips, since perona is someone who doesn't align too well with zoro's way of simply expecting people to comprehend his signals, not when she prefers the much more direct approach.
she watches the movement of his shoulder, eyesight drawn to the firm build of muscle of his bicep, similar to strong form of his chest, still plenty durable even with the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. her close attention of him has been enough that she's noticed the growth of his body in the passing weeks, months, how he'd aimed to get stronger and the sight of him shows every bit of proof of it. the bigger he gets, the more she wants him stretched over her like a weighted blanket.
silently, she raises her hand, a pointed index brushing over the center line between his pecs, up and down strokes lightly caressing. ]
Spoil me. [ she finally answers, leaning up on her knees before she lifts herself one leg at a time, pulling his inward so she can climb up to sit over his thighs, trapping him (in spirit) between her knees, knowing full well he could lift her off anytime he wants. her chest presses forward, the tightness of her long sleeve top nudging against him, cleavage visible along the hem of the u-neck. ] No fighting. No swords. Be very nice to me.
no subject
Listen when people are talking to you.
[ although his own execution left something to be desired, zoro had always appreciated directness. bullheaded as he was blunt, he always said what he meant – but as to whether that point came across to everyone else? well, that was on them to figure it out. perona, on the other hand, was far more transparent in her wants, usually expressing them in ways that even zoro couldn’t have misinterpreted.
and, with the way her finger traced its path up his chest, touch as light as one of her ghosts, zoro had a pretty strong idea what it was she wanted now.
there was no resistance on his part, his only movement to arrange himself in a way that would allow her to sit more comfortably astride his lap. his hands came to rest on her thighs, thumbs teasing at the upper hem of her stockings, smoothing over that perfect line where elastic hugged tight against pale skin. ]
Nice, huh?
[ there was a deliberateness in the way his gaze traveled lower, lingering on the deep cut of her top and the way her breasts pushed up against him now. she had obviously been wanting his attention, and there was no doubt that she had it now, arousal heating his insides just as swiftly as any battle.
closing the small distance remaining, zoro leaned in close enough that his lips brushed the side of her neck, breath fanning hot against her ear. ]
Just don’t start whining if I get blood on you again.
no subject
while his lower abdomen might be wrapped in bandages, there's plenty of skin to caress as she rises higher, the tips of her fingers dragging up over his chest, pecs notably already bigger than they'd been when he first arrived on the island. her thumbs brush over his nipples, one following the diagonal trace of his large scar before hands grasp over his arms, biceps so deliciously firm and tight that the arousal of touching him reaches down to her cunt.
and she definitely likes it when he touches her too, when the heat of his hands can reach through her stockings teasing all the other places those fingers can go. ]
You better not or I'll just let you bleed out here by yourself.
[ she won't. they both know that by now, that everything out of her mouth is all talk and the need she often has for him, in her company, in her bed, simply in her, is stronger than any bite of words she could cry out.
besides, with his breath burning heat to her ear, every exhale making her tingle with further arousal, she can barely put any bite into her words as her lashes shutter closed and takes in every close sensation of him, her hips beginning to rock slowly over his crotch, pressing down tightly in a teasing grind to urge a reaction from his cock.
nudging in closer against him, she reaches up, fingers catching on the top hem of her shirt and giving it a slight tug. it isn't enough for her breasts to spill out but it does give an even more upward push of the cleavage, almost in offering. ] Touch me.