[ Like an audience member forced to spectate on a tennis match in the bowels of hell, Nami’s gaze flicks side to side, a look of wholly unimpressed boredom on her face while she watches Sanji and Zoro argue—again. Posed in the doorway of the galley with her arms crossed over her chest and her lips pursed disdainfully, she wonders if they even remember what they’re fighting about after a slew of utterly inane barbs and underwhelming comebacks make it physically impossible for her not to roll her eyes.
It’s been obvious for weeks that they want to fuck, just like Sanji’s made it very apparent he’d be beyond happy ending up in her bed, just like she thinks she’s made it clear that both he and Zoro are comfortable, safe, and hot enough to mess around with. And yet, rather than doing any of that, here they stand, squaring up and shouting about something completely stupid.
The fact of the matter is, she likes them.
They’re idiots, but she likes them more than the various partners she’s fallen into bed with mid-hustle out of need, only to be gone before sunrise the next day. Her crew is fast becoming the most important thing in the world to her, and the prudent side of Nami that never rushes into anything without a plan wants nothing more than to preserve that and keep her thoughts to herself. But if these two morons are barely doing that, then why should she?
Righting herself from her spot leaning against the doorframe with the world’s weariest sigh, she regards them both before decisively passing judgment. ]
This is boring.
[ An underwhelmed declaration, one Nami says loud enough for them to hear and, ideally, look up just in time to watch her pull her dress over her head while she turns, before tossing it over her shoulder with all the pointed oomph of someone who is trying to hit someone else in the face. Which she is, and they’re lucky it’s with nothing heavier than her clothing.
Nami lingers long enough to give them both the chance to enjoy the curve of what she knows is an utterly perfect ass before she saunters out of sight, moving languidly despite the fact that were Usopp or Luffy to wake up, she would have a lot to answer for. She’s banking on the seconds and thirds they both had at dinner to keep them knocked out for the rest of the night and knows them both well enough to know the odds are in her favor.
In little more than a minute she’s inside her room the door left ajar, her panties off and balled up in her hand, making them easy to throw at the one she missed with her dress (fair is fair after all) once Sanji and Zoro are both inside. ]
Can you both behave?
[ Her eyes pinch at the corners, narrowing appraisingly as she slides between them, both hands resting on either of their chests, fingers curling in the fabric of their shirts while the greedy part of her flares to life just enough to relish the differences between them. ]
[ almost everything about this scenario could be attributed to a typical occurrence, since it's become more of a rarity for sanji and zoro to surpass twenty-hour hours without finding themselves in some kind of bickering match. it's the one thing that isn't nami on this ship that's managed to succeed in being a foolproof effort at getting sanji's undivided attention, the way he becomes so adamant in proving his own points, one might say it could be some kind of necessity in filling a void for all the arguments he's no longer having with zeff on the daily ever since he left the baratie.
except his relationship with zoro is hardly one that compares to the one he has with his adoptive father, not when this one contains a more unique fury circulated around the fact that sanji does indeed want to fuck zoro, and it's that undeniable fact he's so eagerly trying to ignore that makes him all the angrier when it comes to snapping back at the swordsman. ]
And this is why I'm the chef on this ship — not the waiter — because there isn't an ounce of respect for food in that puny moss-infested brain of—
[ for once, he doesn't immediately hear the words out of nami's mouth, one palm pressed flat to the counter from his side of the galley, his other hand held out in the air where he presses his fingers tightly against his thumb as if to articulate his point, his eyes directed on zoro standing on the opposite end. it's that attention that does have him catch the moment the dress catches onto the other man's head, a dress he so very clearly remembers being on nami's body (for how quickly he'd aimed to memorize the way he wrapped around ever curve) except now it very much isn't.
brain short circuiting from the unclear interruption, sanji turns his head just in time to watch the tantalizing strut of nami's ass disappear from view as she steps out in the hall, his mind trying to move quick to make connections to the unspoken message hanging in the air. ]
See ya, mosshead!
[ well, for sanji, the only message that matter is a gorgeous nami stripping down to her underwear in a move that feels very much like a clear sign for him (them??) to follow. which sanji isn't so stupid to not do, because if there's anyone he does want to sleep with more than the idiot he's leaving behind in the galley, it's that heartstopping, breathtaking woman with orange hair.
not waiting to see how long it takes zoro to move, he darts out the galley with hasty speed that he nearly crashes into the wall when he steps out were it not for the control he has in his own feet as he moves with quick paces to nami's room, trying to avoid running if only to not alert the other sleeping members of their crew. ]
Nami~ did I keep you waiting, darli—? [ that cheery greeting and wide smile once again find another interruption as fabric lands over his face, the hang of the material over his eyes instantly recognizable (don't ask why it's recognizable) as nami's panties. throat going dry, sanji swallows hard only carefully raising his hand to the bundle and curling his fingers tight around it to pull it down from his sight slowly, keeping it clutched in his fist, just as nami steps up to both he and, apparently, zoro who's also appeared.
her fingers curling into his shirt, his feet nearly give out, fighting the temptation to sink down onto his knees for her, as he looks over to his fellow rival. ]
I'll always behave like a good boy for you, Nami. Can't say the same for him.
[ it was hard to pinpoint now, when this had become a daily occurrence. what had started out as zoro pointedly ignoring the other man’s existence had become the occasional snide remark to press his buttons. now, it was a constant back and forth, sniping at one another with a precision that would make usopp blush – neither ever gaining any real ground, but both too stubborn to let things go.
it was annoying as hell. he was annoying as hell, and zoro hadn’t decided if it was because he wanted to punch him in the mouth, or because he did want to fuck him. the bastard was more attractive than he had any right to be; he’d tried ignoring that too, which worked about as well as the rest of it.
nami was too perceptive for her own good.
unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for zoro, whatever verbal barb he’d been prepared to make lost in a muffle of fabric, the object catching him upside the head - he’d been so focused on whatever pointless argument they’d been having, he hadn’t even registered the movement. ]
Really-
[ he turned his head, gravity taking hold as the material slipped down to drape his shoulder.
in that moment, zoro realized three things. one, the object was, in fact, the dress that nami had previously been wearing. he knew that, not because he’d bothered to memorize the print or the colour or whatever – but because the second thing he’d realized was that nami had been about to walk out of the room, smooth skin on full display in a way that made zoro feel slightly dizzy. he’d only managed to tear his eyes away from the perfect curve of her ass because of the third thing.
that annoying ass waiter was already in hot pursuit, all but racing out after her.
sanji may have had the lead, but zoro wasn’t far behind him, moving briskly after him, the dress fisted in one hand. not like nami hadn’t held her own place in his late night thoughts, longer even than the waiter had. just as complicated, just as much a bad idea. ordinarily, it was the sort of instinct he’d tamp down and ignore, maybe jerk off to scratch the itch and be done with it.
but he’d be either stubborn or stupid to turn down that offer, and he wasn’t that stubborn. fuck it.
he’d arrived just in time to see sanji catch a faceful of her panties, and nami herself… well, they were far beyond the point of feigned disinterest, and zoro wasn’t bothering to disguise the way his gaze slid down to her thighs and back again. the light touch of her hand did nothing to ease that build of tension, and he found himself leaning into it despite himself – and closer into the cook’s space in the process. ]
Worry about yourself.
[ right. not exactly good. taking a breath, he tossed the dress he’d forgotten he’d been holding, letting it fall somewhere on the floor – easier not to have to explain that at the breakfast table.
he met sanji’s gaze, lips curled in a half smirk, inviting him to challenge him further. ]
[ There are a multitude of reasons to demand they don’t do anything to make her regret this, and while it’s only now, once they’re close enough for her to shift her weight forward and lean into the both of them, that Nami begins running a mental inventory of what those are. From her present point of view, the risks almost outweigh the gains. Had this situation been a hand of cards, she might have folded rather than upped the stakes. They are tense, they are annoying, and all things considered, she does not need this.
But she might want it.
Nami releases her hold on both of their shirts and lets her fingers flex, simultaneously assessing the circumstances and working to convolute them further. One hand settles on Sanji’s chest, enjoying the warm strength caught beneath her palm; the other lifts to touch Zoro’s cheek, guiding him to face her with all the thin patience of a person who has decided of the two of them he’s more likely to waste the whole night arguing if she doesn’t make a better option unavoidably obvious.
So it’s Zoro she decides to kiss first, because then he cannot fucking talk. She lets her lips part and her tongue flutter lightly against his bottom lip—something she has thought about doing enough times that actually getting to do it sends a shiver rolling up her spine. As she kisses him, the hand on Sanji’s chest travels to cradle the nape of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping over his jaw, pulling him close enough so that she can turn her head away from Zoro and kiss him instead. The corners of her lips twitch, suppressing a grin, as though the earnest eagerness Sanji always comes at her with is as apparent now as it ever was. She draws back only to steal another, more fleeting kiss while the hand on Zoro’s cheek curves over the side of his throat instead, mirroring the way she’s still holding Sanji after drawing back from his lips.
This has gone far enough that if she were to call the whole thing off and shoo them away, she’d at least get a few hours of peace while Zoro and Sanji are momentarily thrown off their fighting game (one can dream). Moderate risk, moderate reward, no danger of fully throwing their dynamic to the rocks; the smart thing to do.
But she does want it.
Nami’s eyes sweep left, then right, her already reddened lips pursing pensively, like she’s on the verge of delivering some profound verdict. ]
Quit being stupid.
[ Ideally now and later, but for the time being, Nami will settle for the present.
She’s just as foolish as they are for this, though even in the aftermath Nami will be unlikely to own up to that. Idiocy that isn’t hers is a much better thing to pin blame on. There’s a brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin that lights up her face, all affection and unabashed heat, as disarming as a pointedly thrown pair of panties. Nami lifts her chin slightly, this time leading them both close enough to kiss at the same time.
Having either side of her mouth meet a different pair of lips is exhilarating and strange, something she can already see herself seeking more of, even if, for now, she keeps it tame, holding onto that closeness before her head lowers, slipping away from them to see what they’ll do. ]
[ it's difficult for him to know where exactly to direct his gaze, whether to steer towards the dream of nami's inviting eyes, bright with a clever shine that isn't rejecting his advances, or to drift them down along the alluring curves of her naked body, afraid that if he begins to stare for too long, he might not ever be able to look anywhere else, nearly on the verge of really collapsing on his knees and presenting his worship of her in the form of peppered devoted kisses between her legs.
there's also the third more annoying option of actually responding to zoro's taunts at his side, fighting that innate itch to roll his eyes the moment the swordsman breathes out a single retort.
but nami remains as ever gifted to take command, as sanji ultimately decides to follow her movements, eased back from snapping another comment towards zoro when the light press of her hand at his chest tames him into place. anxiously excited, he keeps close attention to where she directs herself next — heart nearly dropping when that direction seems to be in guiding her lips to kiss zoro.
his first impulse is jealousy. after all, why the hell should that shitty mosshead get the first kiss, especially when he's been so good and devoted at her side from the start? fingers curl tighter into the clutch of her panties still in his hand, thumb tracing persistently over the fabric's stitches with his distraction, that it takes a moment to register that jealousy might not actually be the correct word, not when his focused attention catches the light brush of her tongue to the other man's lip, a simple act that sends a wave of electricity through his chest just in watching, so casual in its presentation and yet coaxing a throbbing ache right down to his cock as the curiosity for the taste of that exchange thrums through him.
he isn't left waiting for long, not as nami turns and seeks out his mouth soon after, her hand at his nape his ever present guidance. heart pounding, he meets her lips with a fight of his own excited smile, kissing her with a delighted sweetness that gradually shifts into an eager slip of his own enthusiastic tongue, finding himself caught again in a grin when she draws away.
it's then that he finally gives a gentle toss of the panties in his fist, tossing them freely to the closest table surface scattered with sheets of maps, so that he can ease his hand around the curve of her hip for a light hold. it's all the easier for him to gravitate to the pull at his neck, his notice not entirely ignoring the bump of his shoulder to zoro's, how both men are reeled together at once. sanji doesn't think too much about it, letting himself be consumed by the sight of nami's lips once more, anxious to return to their kiss, even if this time, he feels the space shared with the invasive bump of zoro's nose against his own, as a trinity of mouths move together at once.
his focus still remains on nami, or at least he attempts to will it to, even as he struggles to know what to do with his free hand, knowing it's only zoro's body in its direction. he aims for the thinner, sweeter lips, even as he soon feels them withdrawing again — but his mouth continues to move, hungry now for a lingering kiss that he tilts, catching at the corner of zoro's lips with his own and claiming them on impulse with nami's absence, his fingers tightening its press at nami's hip as he kisses the other man beside them. ]
[ nami wasn’t wrong; while zoro registered the subtle shift in her touch, it was only by her guidance that he finally redirected his gaze, bullish refusal to concede intact even now. if anything, this wasn’t a concession at all – the trade off of being the first to look away, for being the first nami fully engaged was victory all its own, made sweeter by the knowledge that sanji was no doubt seething at being left to watch.
had it been reversed, he’d have been feeling the same.
for the number of times he’d imagined this, zoro had never been able to properly capture the truth of it – the faintly sweet taste of her lips, soft despite her sharp tongue. it was the sort of kiss that lingered, that frayed the edges of his restraint as he held back from pressing for more; he only halfway succeeded, briefly chasing her lips when she did eventually pull away.
he wasn’t sure when his fingers had locked around the hilt of his sword, a grounding instinct without threat, squeezed that much tighter when her mouth found sanji’s. he’d told himself he didn’t need to see, wouldn’t have given the bastard the satisfaction of his watching – and yet, he found himself doing just that, focus snagged on the way their lips met like it was trapped there. the way she subtly leaned into him, that flicker of a smile that he hadn’t felt himself – it should have pissed him off, yet all he felt was that deep, persistent heat, frustrated for reasons that had nothing to do with anger.
and maybe there was a note of jealousy beneath it all – problem was, it wasn’t sanji he was jealous of.
there was that defensive part of him that nearly came out with some snide comment when he realized the cook had been holding onto her panties that entire time, but he swallowed it down, along with the conflicting desire that burned beneath his skin. the gentle press of nami’s fingers against his neck was a far better focus, this time moving back in of his own volition, just as eager – in his own, understated way – to continue from where they’d left off.
even as he tuned out sanji’s being there, he swore he could taste the bitterness of smoke on her lips, the mix of both of them leaving him pleasantly dazed, fingers grazing lightly over her ribs before finally settling against her lower back. for once, not intended to be competitive, and only a mark of his own presence.
he’d expected it to end at that, with nami’s withdrawal, that slight pivot catching him entirely off his guard. the hand that had been on his sword released, snapping up to catch the other man’s collar, with every intention of shoving him away – instead jerking him closer, meeting his lips with a need he couldn’t articulate if he tried. he didn’t doubt that nami had known, in some way, and he hadn’t decided yet if he was annoyed or should have been thanking her. for the moment, he pressed his hand a little harder against her, in an unwitting mirror of sanji’s hold.
[ In the span of two kisses, her body’s practically buzzing, eagerness lighting through her as the taste of their mouths lingers on her lips, bitter smoke and sake as subtle in its flavor as Zoro is in his existence. Watching them kiss, Nami wonders if they can feel her heart beating as hard as she swears she can feel theirs.
Life is full of miscalculations, and the present moment stands with one foot on either side of the misjudgment line. Of course she was right about Zoro and Sanji, that they’d collide like a boat caught in a fatal current against a rush of rocks, the corner of her mouth twitching into the barest ghost of a smug smirk when the hand Zoro grabs at Sanji’s collar with yanks him closer, as if to unwittingly underline her correct assessment of the building tension between the two men.
But she hadn’t expected the flood of different thoughts and feelings that scamper earnestly through her own mind while she watches. Intrigue, because they’re both gorgeous, and amusement because Nami likes being right. As should have been expected, there’s also the faintest yearning for violence after she realizes she could knock their heads together and get revenge for weeks of being exposed to their enduring idiocy; a pang of desire that knots itself with a twinge of uncertainty, a feeling that reminds her of the downsides of making this up as she goes and the risk to the harmony of her crew; and humming steadily but needily beneath it all, the overwhelming want to learn them both and enjoy them learning each other at the same time.
Still watching them, the thought that at least they’re listening to her and not being stupid gets a muted chuckle out of Nami, who shifts against the hand on her hip and the one on her back, her skin almost uncomfortably warm, while she pulls her own away from their necks in favor of self-indulgence. Leaning in, the palms of both hands go flat against so many new planes and angles she could get lost in either of their bodies for days. They travel down the sides of their bodies, feeling and charting their different shapes, pausing here and there to impatiently tug at a shirt, or a belt, the fabric as dissimilar against her hands as the shapes of the men themselves. ]
[ if he spends too much time thinking about it, sanji might consider that he really shouldn't be feeling that pang of excitement as his and zoro's mouths collide, a satisfied noise lost between their hungry lips when he gets tugged at his collar. he catches the hush of liquor in his taste, tongues racing in fervent lashes as if to continue achieving the kind of competitive violence they put a temporary pause to for all of this. the way it feels as equally satisfying as it'd been to kiss nami frustrates him enough to jut out his teeth for a mischievous bite to his lip, more sensual than disruptive.
he does finally draw away though with the patting of nami's hands on his body, pulling back from the kiss breathlessly, just as fingers snag at his belt, his own hastily joining in to unbuckle it and toss it down to the floor, realizing he should be (and wants to be) as naked as nami is right now — and that he really wants zoro to be too. ]
Take that dumb thing off. [ he mutters with a pesky tug to the other man's haramaki, between his continued loss of breath, so casually commanded as if trying to find a balance again from the intimacy of that kiss.
but he doesn't work to help him undress, instead returning to his own clothes and giving a tug to his tie, working at plucking the buttons of shirt as he turns back to nami with a hazy, delighted smile, leaning over to catch at her lips. lingering for another kiss, his mouth is still wet from his clash with zoro, peppering her with a few more sweet pecks before he dips his head down in to the crook of her neck, continuing the trail of kisses there. ]
Fuck, you're gorgeous, Nami. [ he breathes to her throat, distracting himself from his own undressing as he brushes his fingers over her naked belly, massaging light caresses before raising his palm to her breast, thumb gliding a tease across her nipple. ]
[ there was a very real part of him that wondered if sanji would regret this, blame the kiss on some fleeting impulse – a thought immediately countered by the sharp pinch of teeth, the sting leaving him as breathless as the weight of his realization.
with nami, this made sense. there’d been a lasting thread of respect, to where the transition from offhand flirting to this unabashed physicality felt like the natural step – but he never knew where he stood with the cook. the man wasn’t subtle in his preferences, and zoro knew damned well he didn’t meet any of them. he’d told himself he didn’t give a shit. that it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d shoved him away, even as his fingers curled that little bit tighter into his collar, the only small point of control left to him.
it sure as hell wasn’t the heat of his mouth that cracked that last bastion of restraint, nor the taste that was so distinctly sanji, laced with nami’s still clinging to his lips. it didn’t mean a damned thing, even though it did.
at the light pull of the cook’s withdrawal, zoro released his hold, instead drawing his hand back to graze a thumb over his lip, tracing over where he’d nipped him earlier. the heat thrumming through his veins left him feeling drunk, head swimming, yet still acutely aware of nami’s wandering hand, growing bolder in her exploration.
fuck.
the flat look came slightly delayed, belatedly shot back in response to the pull at his haramaki. he played it off with a half-quirk of his brow and a roll of his eyes – although it was undercut by the lingering flush of his face. ]
Liked you better when you weren’t talking.
[ the words lacked teeth, voice rough with his own desire. he’d have argued endlessly that it had nothing to do with the idiot’s direction, and that he was already about to unstrap the harness from his hip, propping the swords up against the wall and out of the way. the haramaki was tossed down with them, deft hands working on his shirt without looking-
the sight of sanji, still half-dressed, lips pressed to her throat, had snatched his full attention.
it took several seconds before he caught himself, that edge of jealousy he’d felt the first time had sharpened into a more dangerous sort of want, no longer tempered by the pressing fear of rejection. yet, he couldn’t force himself to look away either – not with the way she moved beneath his touch, the shudder of her breath as he teased over her nipple. his fingers twitched their own response, paused on the band of his pants, front stretched tight over his swollen cock. ]
Still overdressed.
[ the only thing spoiling the view was the fact that sanji was still clothed, and zoro was too fucking stubborn in his pride to fully give in first. then, it hadn't stopped him from kicking off his boots in the meantime, pointedly noisy in doing so. ]
[ Funny—she liked them both better when they weren’t talking, too. But she and Zoro have always had an unspoken accord; it shouldn’t be a surprise that Nami agrees. Just like it’s miles away from shocking that they’re both preoccupied with the idea of fucking the cook. The guys have always given her loads of reasons to say, ‘I told you so,’ but this time it’s for a much, much more intriguing, arousing reason than before.
Sanji gives her exasperation no time to take real root, half opening his shirt before forgetting the task at hand in favor of claiming her mouth in another kiss. She’s never had an opinion about the taste of sake and cigarettes, but by the end of the night, it’s unlikely she will be able to say the same. His hand curves over her breast and makes her shiver as the pad of Sanji’s thumb ghosts over an already stiffened nipple, the hot brush of his tongue against hers making her thoughts swim pleasantly. The touch has her humming quietly into that kiss—just enough for him to feel the soft rumble of approval between her lips and his—while Nami’s fingers find the forgotten line of buttons traveling down his stomach and unfasten them with all the dexterity of an impatient pickpocket.
Which she kind of is right now.
As her fingers work the last button loose, Sanji’s lips find her neck and leave her shivering, until the harsh thud of Zoro’s boots causes Nami’s eyes to flutter open just enough to peer at the swordsman through the dense fan of her eyelashes, a knowing smirk on her now very flushed face. ]
Very overdressed. [ With a note of impatience, her hands slip beneath Sanji’s shirt to push it off his shoulders before moving low enough to pull his belt buckle open, the soft clatter of metal and the implication behind it fueling the slowly growing heat simmering beneath her skin and reverberating low in her core ]
And you. Idiot. [ Said like she’s just spotted Zoro completely lost while still being less than two feet away, but without any real bite to that bark. If anything, Nami sounds more breathless than either of them has heard her get before. ] Get—
[ Stretching, she reaches for Zoro earnestly while her body stays turned towards Sanji’s like a house cat getting all the attention she could need while seeking out even more. ] Over here
[ Thankfully, when her hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, she lacks the claws to do real damage, but Nami’s determined enough to pull him closer, waiting until Zoro is close enough to kiss before the hold she has on his top changes, dragging it over the top of his head and tossing it aside as the corners of her lips curve in barely tamped-down amusement. Again her hands move, one running quickly down Sanji’s body to tease dangerously low on his torso, as the other settles on the back of Zoro’s neck and pulls him down into another kiss. ]
[ it's easy to find himself completely preoccupied with the slope of nami's neck, stretched glistening skin all for him to get utterly intoxicated with her taste, the way he's dreamed night after night of pressing his mouth to this body, of learning the places that could draw out her moans and make her come endlessly into countless hours stretched out on her bed. he's had dreams of zoro too, those more against his own will, and yet just as responsible for mornings awoken by the nagging press of a firm cock staining precum against his boxers. but this — it's actually surprising he's never caught himself in a fantasy featuring both of them at once, the reality heightening whatever filthy thoughts his mind had already conjured up.
easing his shoulders back to allow nami to shove off his shirt, he keeps his lips latched to the column of her throat, parting only to purse them more tightly for the trail of succulent kisses, knowing distraction will keep him from lingering long enough to leave behind scattered marks of his love to last days on her skin. like the way his attention is drawn away when his half-lidded eyes manage a glimpse from there when nami begins to strip zoro in turn, ultimately colliding her lips with his.
it's only then that sanji moves, and only for the convenience of positions. his previous annoyances with the swordsman getting to lock lips with the most gorgeous crewmate on board this ship have dissipated into forgotten concerns now that he's tasted both their mouths and has the entirety of nami's perfect body beneath his hands and lips. the only disappointing sacrifice is the stroke of nami's fingers along his torso, his hand curling around hers to bring it up to his lips, planting an apologetic kiss to her knuckles so that he can round himself to stand at her back instead.
he gets a plenty addictive view from there, too, of their hungry kiss, of the now exposed plains of zoro's chest, bitterly arousing in how it's etched with firm muscle and the lingering marred presence of that diagonal scar. the other man's getting closer to naked now too, and it's that competitive streak that has sanji eager to beat him at that too.
back at nami's neck from a different angle, bending his head down behind her to kiss the luscious curve that meets her shoulder, a soft noise lost to her skin with the pleasure of delighting in how soft she is, he returns to what she had started, fingers hastily working at his pants to undo the zipper, thumbs hooking roughly into the hems of both that and his boxers to begin impatiently shoving them all down at once while he kicks at his shoes. it's that swift reveal that has the full hefty curve of his already hardened cock springing upward, instantly nudging its tip at a pert cheek of nami's ass, the leaky slit dragging a light wet strip to her skin. ]
Got you beat, Mosshead. [ he mutters with his lips still latched to nami's skin, knowing zoro's close enough to hear, because there's still going to be that stupid boyish pride with the results of an immature race.
reaching down to grip at his base, he aligns the shaft to nestle between nami's cheeks, offering the slow roll of a teasing grind for her to feel that erect weight, breathing a sigh to her shoulder as he reaches a hand around her hip, curving low and inward, fingers catching the first flutter of her folds and massaging a testing stroke along the surface of her cunt. ]
Hurry up and finish getting naked. [ directed at zoro, of course, even as he drags his lips behind her ear, kissing the lobe with the lowness of his aroused voice. ] So you can help me in making sure Nami feels so damn good tonight.
[ nami was on the short list of people who could get away with calling him an idiot, although the blow was significantly softened by the follow up of her lips, pressed hard against his own once more. he might have grabbed her himself, if not for the fumbling attempt to shrug out of his shirt, too eager, arms slipping from its sleeves with a low grunt of impatience. once free, he tugged her closer again, one hand curving its strong grip around her ass, close enough now to feel the hard press of his erection, nudged up against her thigh.
it was unusual to see her lose her cool for once, yet hot in its own way – forcing them back on equal ground, her own walls slipping in the way she’d already forced his down.
he’d only been vaguely aware of sanji’s movements in the background, focus fixed firmly on the woman in front of him, thoughts of competition temporarily derailed by the way her tongue slid up against his – yet he couldn’t quite ignore that quiet rustle of fabric being yanked down, nor that irritating voice that made him want to both knock him on his ass and kiss him all over again. zoro rolled his eyes, visible only to nami at this proximity, a shared flicker of almost fond annoyance before he finally turned his head to look back at the cook. ]
Guess you’re used to being done quick.
[ he hadn’t wanted to be the first one naked, but he admittedly hadn’t considered the consequences of being the last, either. they were swiftly realized the moment sanji leaned back in, pressing between the cleft of her cheeks in a move that made zoro’s own cock ache in response, the faint twitch enough for nami to feel as his envy spiked once more – and he had no one to blame but himself. even now he could feel that easy grind of his hips, the secondhand pressure making him exhale sharp against her skin.
unwilling to give him even that brief satisfaction, he instead dipped his head to kiss at the opposite side of nami’s throat, all wet lips and the occasional catch of teeth as he worked his way down, nipping a mark at the ridge of her collarbone. he’d let his fingers tangle in the back of sanji’s hair, and he gave a sharp tug as he withdrew – not with any real intent to pull him away, but enough to remind him he was very much there.
horny as he was, it still wouldn’t make the attempted orders go down smooth, the way they might have coming from nami – but he’d be damned if he was going to waste the opportunity and leave the idiot to enjoy himself. it’s with a begrudging sort of compliance that he finally pulled back, only enough to deftly unbutton his own pants, shoving them down without any real ceremony and kicking them off to the side.
it was, at least, long enough to appreciate the view, dark eyes dragging the length of nami’s torso to where the blond’s fingers teased down, slipping between slick folds in a way that both held his attention and shoved up against a more possessive instinct, the part of him that refused to let someone else set the pace. it was why it was sanji that his lips found next, pressing a rough kiss at the hinge of his jaw, taking in the faint scent of smoke and spice as his breath fanned hot against his ear. ]
Don’t need you to tell me that.
[ the words may have been directed at him, but his attention remained centered on nami, hand teasing up over the curve of her breast, claiming in its grasp – even if only for a moment, briefly catching the peak of her nipple before he wandered lower, down the gentle curve of her stomach. leaving the touch to linger, he traced a line just below her navel, a promise never fully delivered. ]
Someone’s gonna have to, when you come first.
[ with a half-smirk and a sharp sting of teeth against the cook’s ear, zoro hooked his fingers around nami’s wrist, guiding delicate fingers toward the hard length of his cock. the slight hitch in his breath was felt through a tightened grip on her hip, his opposite hand braced there, keeping her pinned more firmly against the slow rock of sanji’s hips. ]
[ The seconds unfold in a heady rush of strong, soft heat. The taste of their mouths in hers etches its way into her memory, as hands and kisses—or just the complete madness of the moment itself—leave Nami feeling fully taken apart and wholly put back together at the same time. This is the kind of complication she could not have imagined herself in, even for the money, even if her life had been her own for much longer than it has and she’d gone into this already a seasoned pro at betting her heart on things. But, at the same time, there’s no place Nami would want to be more than right here between them, aroused, amused, and infatuated. It’s so easy to bask in Sanji’s passionate enthusiasm, covering her neck in eager kisses like he started planning the route his mouth would take the moment they met, and the way it plays off of the deliberate, purposeful gravity Zoro puts behind every movement—like being caught between a mountain and the sea.
The world beats in a staccato rhythm that echoes how her pulse jumps and races, eager to the point that the effortless cool she’s honed like a tool that does double duty as a weapon and a suit of armor becomes pointless and gets tossed aside. There’s no masking how she shivers as she draws herself up and arches into the hand Zoro palms over the full curve of her ass, and it’s only the voracity of her mouth on his that stifles the quiet groan that feeling his cock, hard and insistent against her hip, pulls out of her, a purr messily concealed between the insistent gliding lick of her tongue and the purposeful, rolling way she grinds briefly against the shape of him, while Sanji’s mouth on her neck keeps her perpetually on the edge of trembling between them.
Just as the hand in Zoro’s hair trails down the nape of his neck, nails dragging in the wake of her perpetually inquisitive palms, and the one slipping low on Sanji’s stomach gets deliciously close to the thickened base of him, the cook draws back, leaving her hand reaching for him even after he presses a kiss to her palm, and the ensuing rustle of fabric removes any doubt about why he withdrew from the slowly interlinking knot of bodies and limbs the three of them have begun creating among themselves.
It’s likely Zoro can feel her smirk against his neck when he takes Sanji’s bait (and did the cook really just boast about getting his pants off first?) leaving her to plant hot, open kisses along the column of his neck, pulling open the button at the top of her pants while her other hand continues reaching behind her, greedy fingers seeking purchase on the newly bared angles of one of Sanji’s hips so she can drag him closer. His chest is snug against her back, and the slick trail of pre that the thickened-up crown of his cock leaves a heated streak across her skin, teasing in a way that makes her want to press hard against him until the hard drag of him against the cleft of her ass, before slipping further to tease her folds, fanning the ache that’s been building steadily since the door shut behind them, ensuring he finds her wet when his cock grinds against her.
Kiss-swollen lips glisten with saliva as Zoro draws back to finish undressing, and she’s left looking after him with heavy-lidded eyes blown dark with desire, while Sanji’s mouth on her neck continues to keep her arching and grinding against him, the hold she keeps on his hip relentless, her fingers digging into his flesh. Weak under the weight of Zoro’s stare and the searingly hot awareness that he’s watching Sanji’s hand travel between her thighs to further tease her cunt, she gasps sharply as pleasure lances through her, too far gone to want to try and act like the lust burning its way through her is blazing any less voraciously than it is.
That heat makes her skin almost uncomfortably hot and leaves her face flushed in the seconds it takes for Zoro to return and tangle himself up in this mess once more, the evidence of his arousal pressing tantalizingly low on the line of her hip, close enough to make the mental image of fucking them both race through her mind for the hundredth time that evening, but this time the hues of this particular vision are made all the more vivid as she takes in the gorgeous sight of Zoro as he brings his mouth close to Sanji’s jaw, muttering arguments against the other man’s skin while he leads her hand to his cock at the same time.
Following the sight and the growled pitch of Zoro’s voice, Nami twists at the waist as her hand wraps into a loose fist around him, palm curving and massaging the head of his cock, getting her skin slick with his pre before working down the length of him, the slow stroke of her hand mirroring the way she grinds that slick heat against Sanji. ]
The two of you are going to feel like real idiots when I make you both come first. [ From this angle she can lean in and let her mouth wander, running kisses down Sanji’s neck before turning her head so her teeth can graze Zoro’s shoulder, biting down just enough for him to feel it while his teeth tease at Sanji’s earlobe. ]
Just keep it together, idiots. You both better be fucking me tonight. [ The hand on Zoro’s cock withdraws to slip between her thighs, the flats of her fingers still slick with his pre as they massage the underside of Sanji’s cock, pressing him flush against the soaked heat of her folds, teasing him with the prospect of more while wetting up her palm with her own arousal. When her fingers wrap back around Zoro’s length barely a heartbeat later, her skin glides hot and slick against him, fucking him faster with her fisted hand. ]
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It’s been obvious for weeks that they want to fuck, just like Sanji’s made it very apparent he’d be beyond happy ending up in her bed, just like she thinks she’s made it clear that both he and Zoro are comfortable, safe, and hot enough to mess around with. And yet, rather than doing any of that, here they stand, squaring up and shouting about something completely stupid.
The fact of the matter is, she likes them.
They’re idiots, but she likes them more than the various partners she’s fallen into bed with mid-hustle out of need, only to be gone before sunrise the next day. Her crew is fast becoming the most important thing in the world to her, and the prudent side of Nami that never rushes into anything without a plan wants nothing more than to preserve that and keep her thoughts to herself. But if these two morons are barely doing that, then why should she?
Righting herself from her spot leaning against the doorframe with the world’s weariest sigh, she regards them both before decisively passing judgment. ]
This is boring.
[ An underwhelmed declaration, one Nami says loud enough for them to hear and, ideally, look up just in time to watch her pull her dress over her head while she turns, before tossing it over her shoulder with all the pointed oomph of someone who is trying to hit someone else in the face. Which she is, and they’re lucky it’s with nothing heavier than her clothing.
Nami lingers long enough to give them both the chance to enjoy the curve of what she knows is an utterly perfect ass before she saunters out of sight, moving languidly despite the fact that were Usopp or Luffy to wake up, she would have a lot to answer for. She’s banking on the seconds and thirds they both had at dinner to keep them knocked out for the rest of the night and knows them both well enough to know the odds are in her favor.
In little more than a minute she’s inside her room the door left ajar, her panties off and balled up in her hand, making them easy to throw at the one she missed with her dress (fair is fair after all) once Sanji and Zoro are both inside. ]
Can you both behave?
[ Her eyes pinch at the corners, narrowing appraisingly as she slides between them, both hands resting on either of their chests, fingers curling in the fabric of their shirts while the greedy part of her flares to life just enough to relish the differences between them. ]
You idiots better not make me regret this.
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except his relationship with zoro is hardly one that compares to the one he has with his adoptive father, not when this one contains a more unique fury circulated around the fact that sanji does indeed want to fuck zoro, and it's that undeniable fact he's so eagerly trying to ignore that makes him all the angrier when it comes to snapping back at the swordsman. ]
And this is why I'm the chef on this ship — not the waiter — because there isn't an ounce of respect for food in that puny moss-infested brain of—
[ for once, he doesn't immediately hear the words out of nami's mouth, one palm pressed flat to the counter from his side of the galley, his other hand held out in the air where he presses his fingers tightly against his thumb as if to articulate his point, his eyes directed on zoro standing on the opposite end. it's that attention that does have him catch the moment the dress catches onto the other man's head, a dress he so very clearly remembers being on nami's body (for how quickly he'd aimed to memorize the way he wrapped around ever curve) except now it very much isn't.
brain short circuiting from the unclear interruption, sanji turns his head just in time to watch the tantalizing strut of nami's ass disappear from view as she steps out in the hall, his mind trying to move quick to make connections to the unspoken message hanging in the air. ]
See ya, mosshead!
[ well, for sanji, the only message that matter is a gorgeous nami stripping down to her underwear in a move that feels very much like a clear sign for him (them??) to follow. which sanji isn't so stupid to not do, because if there's anyone he does want to sleep with more than the idiot he's leaving behind in the galley, it's that heartstopping, breathtaking woman with orange hair.
not waiting to see how long it takes zoro to move, he darts out the galley with hasty speed that he nearly crashes into the wall when he steps out were it not for the control he has in his own feet as he moves with quick paces to nami's room, trying to avoid running if only to not alert the other sleeping members of their crew. ]
Nami~ did I keep you waiting, darli—? [ that cheery greeting and wide smile once again find another interruption as fabric lands over his face, the hang of the material over his eyes instantly recognizable (don't ask why it's recognizable) as nami's panties. throat going dry, sanji swallows hard only carefully raising his hand to the bundle and curling his fingers tight around it to pull it down from his sight slowly, keeping it clutched in his fist, just as nami steps up to both he and, apparently, zoro who's also appeared.
her fingers curling into his shirt, his feet nearly give out, fighting the temptation to sink down onto his knees for her, as he looks over to his fellow rival. ]
I'll always behave like a good boy for you, Nami. Can't say the same for him.
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it was annoying as hell. he was annoying as hell, and zoro hadn’t decided if it was because he wanted to punch him in the mouth, or because he did want to fuck him. the bastard was more attractive than he had any right to be; he’d tried ignoring that too, which worked about as well as the rest of it.
nami was too perceptive for her own good.
unfortunately, the same couldn’t be said for zoro, whatever verbal barb he’d been prepared to make lost in a muffle of fabric, the object catching him upside the head - he’d been so focused on whatever pointless argument they’d been having, he hadn’t even registered the movement. ]
Really-
[ he turned his head, gravity taking hold as the material slipped down to drape his shoulder.
in that moment, zoro realized three things. one, the object was, in fact, the dress that nami had previously been wearing. he knew that, not because he’d bothered to memorize the print or the colour or whatever – but because the second thing he’d realized was that nami had been about to walk out of the room, smooth skin on full display in a way that made zoro feel slightly dizzy. he’d only managed to tear his eyes away from the perfect curve of her ass because of the third thing.
that annoying ass waiter was already in hot pursuit, all but racing out after her.
sanji may have had the lead, but zoro wasn’t far behind him, moving briskly after him, the dress fisted in one hand. not like nami hadn’t held her own place in his late night thoughts, longer even than the waiter had. just as complicated, just as much a bad idea. ordinarily, it was the sort of instinct he’d tamp down and ignore, maybe jerk off to scratch the itch and be done with it.
but he’d be either stubborn or stupid to turn down that offer, and he wasn’t that stubborn. fuck it.
he’d arrived just in time to see sanji catch a faceful of her panties, and nami herself… well, they were far beyond the point of feigned disinterest, and zoro wasn’t bothering to disguise the way his gaze slid down to her thighs and back again. the light touch of her hand did nothing to ease that build of tension, and he found himself leaning into it despite himself – and closer into the cook’s space in the process. ]
Worry about yourself.
[ right. not exactly good. taking a breath, he tossed the dress he’d forgotten he’d been holding, letting it fall somewhere on the floor – easier not to have to explain that at the breakfast table.
he met sanji’s gaze, lips curled in a half smirk, inviting him to challenge him further. ]
Yeah. I can behave.
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But she might want it.
Nami releases her hold on both of their shirts and lets her fingers flex, simultaneously assessing the circumstances and working to convolute them further. One hand settles on Sanji’s chest, enjoying the warm strength caught beneath her palm; the other lifts to touch Zoro’s cheek, guiding him to face her with all the thin patience of a person who has decided of the two of them he’s more likely to waste the whole night arguing if she doesn’t make a better option unavoidably obvious.
So it’s Zoro she decides to kiss first, because then he cannot fucking talk. She lets her lips part and her tongue flutter lightly against his bottom lip—something she has thought about doing enough times that actually getting to do it sends a shiver rolling up her spine. As she kisses him, the hand on Sanji’s chest travels to cradle the nape of his neck, the pad of her thumb sweeping over his jaw, pulling him close enough so that she can turn her head away from Zoro and kiss him instead. The corners of her lips twitch, suppressing a grin, as though the earnest eagerness Sanji always comes at her with is as apparent now as it ever was. She draws back only to steal another, more fleeting kiss while the hand on Zoro’s cheek curves over the side of his throat instead, mirroring the way she’s still holding Sanji after drawing back from his lips.
This has gone far enough that if she were to call the whole thing off and shoo them away, she’d at least get a few hours of peace while Zoro and Sanji are momentarily thrown off their fighting game (one can dream). Moderate risk, moderate reward, no danger of fully throwing their dynamic to the rocks; the smart thing to do.
But she does want it.
Nami’s eyes sweep left, then right, her already reddened lips pursing pensively, like she’s on the verge of delivering some profound verdict. ]
Quit being stupid.
[ Ideally now and later, but for the time being, Nami will settle for the present.
She’s just as foolish as they are for this, though even in the aftermath Nami will be unlikely to own up to that. Idiocy that isn’t hers is a much better thing to pin blame on. There’s a brief, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it grin that lights up her face, all affection and unabashed heat, as disarming as a pointedly thrown pair of panties. Nami lifts her chin slightly, this time leading them both close enough to kiss at the same time.
Having either side of her mouth meet a different pair of lips is exhilarating and strange, something she can already see herself seeking more of, even if, for now, she keeps it tame, holding onto that closeness before her head lowers, slipping away from them to see what they’ll do. ]
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there's also the third more annoying option of actually responding to zoro's taunts at his side, fighting that innate itch to roll his eyes the moment the swordsman breathes out a single retort.
but nami remains as ever gifted to take command, as sanji ultimately decides to follow her movements, eased back from snapping another comment towards zoro when the light press of her hand at his chest tames him into place. anxiously excited, he keeps close attention to where she directs herself next — heart nearly dropping when that direction seems to be in guiding her lips to kiss zoro.
his first impulse is jealousy. after all, why the hell should that shitty mosshead get the first kiss, especially when he's been so good and devoted at her side from the start? fingers curl tighter into the clutch of her panties still in his hand, thumb tracing persistently over the fabric's stitches with his distraction, that it takes a moment to register that jealousy might not actually be the correct word, not when his focused attention catches the light brush of her tongue to the other man's lip, a simple act that sends a wave of electricity through his chest just in watching, so casual in its presentation and yet coaxing a throbbing ache right down to his cock as the curiosity for the taste of that exchange thrums through him.
he isn't left waiting for long, not as nami turns and seeks out his mouth soon after, her hand at his nape his ever present guidance. heart pounding, he meets her lips with a fight of his own excited smile, kissing her with a delighted sweetness that gradually shifts into an eager slip of his own enthusiastic tongue, finding himself caught again in a grin when she draws away.
it's then that he finally gives a gentle toss of the panties in his fist, tossing them freely to the closest table surface scattered with sheets of maps, so that he can ease his hand around the curve of her hip for a light hold. it's all the easier for him to gravitate to the pull at his neck, his notice not entirely ignoring the bump of his shoulder to zoro's, how both men are reeled together at once. sanji doesn't think too much about it, letting himself be consumed by the sight of nami's lips once more, anxious to return to their kiss, even if this time, he feels the space shared with the invasive bump of zoro's nose against his own, as a trinity of mouths move together at once.
his focus still remains on nami, or at least he attempts to will it to, even as he struggles to know what to do with his free hand, knowing it's only zoro's body in its direction. he aims for the thinner, sweeter lips, even as he soon feels them withdrawing again — but his mouth continues to move, hungry now for a lingering kiss that he tilts, catching at the corner of zoro's lips with his own and claiming them on impulse with nami's absence, his fingers tightening its press at nami's hip as he kisses the other man beside them. ]
no subject
had it been reversed, he’d have been feeling the same.
for the number of times he’d imagined this, zoro had never been able to properly capture the truth of it – the faintly sweet taste of her lips, soft despite her sharp tongue. it was the sort of kiss that lingered, that frayed the edges of his restraint as he held back from pressing for more; he only halfway succeeded, briefly chasing her lips when she did eventually pull away.
he wasn’t sure when his fingers had locked around the hilt of his sword, a grounding instinct without threat, squeezed that much tighter when her mouth found sanji’s. he’d told himself he didn’t need to see, wouldn’t have given the bastard the satisfaction of his watching – and yet, he found himself doing just that, focus snagged on the way their lips met like it was trapped there. the way she subtly leaned into him, that flicker of a smile that he hadn’t felt himself – it should have pissed him off, yet all he felt was that deep, persistent heat, frustrated for reasons that had nothing to do with anger.
and maybe there was a note of jealousy beneath it all – problem was, it wasn’t sanji he was jealous of.
there was that defensive part of him that nearly came out with some snide comment when he realized the cook had been holding onto her panties that entire time, but he swallowed it down, along with the conflicting desire that burned beneath his skin. the gentle press of nami’s fingers against his neck was a far better focus, this time moving back in of his own volition, just as eager – in his own, understated way – to continue from where they’d left off.
even as he tuned out sanji’s being there, he swore he could taste the bitterness of smoke on her lips, the mix of both of them leaving him pleasantly dazed, fingers grazing lightly over her ribs before finally settling against her lower back. for once, not intended to be competitive, and only a mark of his own presence.
he’d expected it to end at that, with nami’s withdrawal, that slight pivot catching him entirely off his guard. the hand that had been on his sword released, snapping up to catch the other man’s collar, with every intention of shoving him away – instead jerking him closer, meeting his lips with a need he couldn’t articulate if he tried. he didn’t doubt that nami had known, in some way, and he hadn’t decided yet if he was annoyed or should have been thanking her. for the moment, he pressed his hand a little harder against her, in an unwitting mirror of sanji’s hold.
asshole. ]
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Life is full of miscalculations, and the present moment stands with one foot on either side of the misjudgment line. Of course she was right about Zoro and Sanji, that they’d collide like a boat caught in a fatal current against a rush of rocks, the corner of her mouth twitching into the barest ghost of a smug smirk when the hand Zoro grabs at Sanji’s collar with yanks him closer, as if to unwittingly underline her correct assessment of the building tension between the two men.
But she hadn’t expected the flood of different thoughts and feelings that scamper earnestly through her own mind while she watches. Intrigue, because they’re both gorgeous, and amusement because Nami likes being right. As should have been expected, there’s also the faintest yearning for violence after she realizes she could knock their heads together and get revenge for weeks of being exposed to their enduring idiocy; a pang of desire that knots itself with a twinge of uncertainty, a feeling that reminds her of the downsides of making this up as she goes and the risk to the harmony of her crew; and humming steadily but needily beneath it all, the overwhelming want to learn them both and enjoy them learning each other at the same time.
Still watching them, the thought that at least they’re listening to her and not being stupid gets a muted chuckle out of Nami, who shifts against the hand on her hip and the one on her back, her skin almost uncomfortably warm, while she pulls her own away from their necks in favor of self-indulgence. Leaning in, the palms of both hands go flat against so many new planes and angles she could get lost in either of their bodies for days. They travel down the sides of their bodies, feeling and charting their different shapes, pausing here and there to impatiently tug at a shirt, or a belt, the fabric as dissimilar against her hands as the shapes of the men themselves. ]
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he does finally draw away though with the patting of nami's hands on his body, pulling back from the kiss breathlessly, just as fingers snag at his belt, his own hastily joining in to unbuckle it and toss it down to the floor, realizing he should be (and wants to be) as naked as nami is right now — and that he really wants zoro to be too. ]
Take that dumb thing off. [ he mutters with a pesky tug to the other man's haramaki, between his continued loss of breath, so casually commanded as if trying to find a balance again from the intimacy of that kiss.
but he doesn't work to help him undress, instead returning to his own clothes and giving a tug to his tie, working at plucking the buttons of shirt as he turns back to nami with a hazy, delighted smile, leaning over to catch at her lips. lingering for another kiss, his mouth is still wet from his clash with zoro, peppering her with a few more sweet pecks before he dips his head down in to the crook of her neck, continuing the trail of kisses there. ]
Fuck, you're gorgeous, Nami. [ he breathes to her throat, distracting himself from his own undressing as he brushes his fingers over her naked belly, massaging light caresses before raising his palm to her breast, thumb gliding a tease across her nipple. ]
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with nami, this made sense. there’d been a lasting thread of respect, to where the transition from offhand flirting to this unabashed physicality felt like the natural step – but he never knew where he stood with the cook. the man wasn’t subtle in his preferences, and zoro knew damned well he didn’t meet any of them. he’d told himself he didn’t give a shit. that it wouldn’t have mattered if he’d shoved him away, even as his fingers curled that little bit tighter into his collar, the only small point of control left to him.
it sure as hell wasn’t the heat of his mouth that cracked that last bastion of restraint, nor the taste that was so distinctly sanji, laced with nami’s still clinging to his lips. it didn’t mean a damned thing, even though it did.
at the light pull of the cook’s withdrawal, zoro released his hold, instead drawing his hand back to graze a thumb over his lip, tracing over where he’d nipped him earlier. the heat thrumming through his veins left him feeling drunk, head swimming, yet still acutely aware of nami’s wandering hand, growing bolder in her exploration.
fuck.
the flat look came slightly delayed, belatedly shot back in response to the pull at his haramaki. he played it off with a half-quirk of his brow and a roll of his eyes – although it was undercut by the lingering flush of his face. ]
Liked you better when you weren’t talking.
[ the words lacked teeth, voice rough with his own desire. he’d have argued endlessly that it had nothing to do with the idiot’s direction, and that he was already about to unstrap the harness from his hip, propping the swords up against the wall and out of the way. the haramaki was tossed down with them, deft hands working on his shirt without looking-
the sight of sanji, still half-dressed, lips pressed to her throat, had snatched his full attention.
it took several seconds before he caught himself, that edge of jealousy he’d felt the first time had sharpened into a more dangerous sort of want, no longer tempered by the pressing fear of rejection. yet, he couldn’t force himself to look away either – not with the way she moved beneath his touch, the shudder of her breath as he teased over her nipple. his fingers twitched their own response, paused on the band of his pants, front stretched tight over his swollen cock. ]
Still overdressed.
[ the only thing spoiling the view was the fact that sanji was still clothed, and zoro was too fucking stubborn in his pride to fully give in first. then, it hadn't stopped him from kicking off his boots in the meantime, pointedly noisy in doing so. ]
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Sanji gives her exasperation no time to take real root, half opening his shirt before forgetting the task at hand in favor of claiming her mouth in another kiss. She’s never had an opinion about the taste of sake and cigarettes, but by the end of the night, it’s unlikely she will be able to say the same. His hand curves over her breast and makes her shiver as the pad of Sanji’s thumb ghosts over an already stiffened nipple, the hot brush of his tongue against hers making her thoughts swim pleasantly. The touch has her humming quietly into that kiss—just enough for him to feel the soft rumble of approval between her lips and his—while Nami’s fingers find the forgotten line of buttons traveling down his stomach and unfasten them with all the dexterity of an impatient pickpocket.
Which she kind of is right now.
As her fingers work the last button loose, Sanji’s lips find her neck and leave her shivering, until the harsh thud of Zoro’s boots causes Nami’s eyes to flutter open just enough to peer at the swordsman through the dense fan of her eyelashes, a knowing smirk on her now very flushed face. ]
Very overdressed. [ With a note of impatience, her hands slip beneath Sanji’s shirt to push it off his shoulders before moving low enough to pull his belt buckle open, the soft clatter of metal and the implication behind it fueling the slowly growing heat simmering beneath her skin and reverberating low in her core ]
And you. Idiot. [ Said like she’s just spotted Zoro completely lost while still being less than two feet away, but without any real bite to that bark. If anything, Nami sounds more breathless than either of them has heard her get before. ] Get—
[ Stretching, she reaches for Zoro earnestly while her body stays turned towards Sanji’s like a house cat getting all the attention she could need while seeking out even more. ] Over here
[ Thankfully, when her hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, she lacks the claws to do real damage, but Nami’s determined enough to pull him closer, waiting until Zoro is close enough to kiss before the hold she has on his top changes, dragging it over the top of his head and tossing it aside as the corners of her lips curve in barely tamped-down amusement. Again her hands move, one running quickly down Sanji’s body to tease dangerously low on his torso, as the other settles on the back of Zoro’s neck and pulls him down into another kiss. ]
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easing his shoulders back to allow nami to shove off his shirt, he keeps his lips latched to the column of her throat, parting only to purse them more tightly for the trail of succulent kisses, knowing distraction will keep him from lingering long enough to leave behind scattered marks of his love to last days on her skin. like the way his attention is drawn away when his half-lidded eyes manage a glimpse from there when nami begins to strip zoro in turn, ultimately colliding her lips with his.
it's only then that sanji moves, and only for the convenience of positions. his previous annoyances with the swordsman getting to lock lips with the most gorgeous crewmate on board this ship have dissipated into forgotten concerns now that he's tasted both their mouths and has the entirety of nami's perfect body beneath his hands and lips. the only disappointing sacrifice is the stroke of nami's fingers along his torso, his hand curling around hers to bring it up to his lips, planting an apologetic kiss to her knuckles so that he can round himself to stand at her back instead.
he gets a plenty addictive view from there, too, of their hungry kiss, of the now exposed plains of zoro's chest, bitterly arousing in how it's etched with firm muscle and the lingering marred presence of that diagonal scar. the other man's getting closer to naked now too, and it's that competitive streak that has sanji eager to beat him at that too.
back at nami's neck from a different angle, bending his head down behind her to kiss the luscious curve that meets her shoulder, a soft noise lost to her skin with the pleasure of delighting in how soft she is, he returns to what she had started, fingers hastily working at his pants to undo the zipper, thumbs hooking roughly into the hems of both that and his boxers to begin impatiently shoving them all down at once while he kicks at his shoes. it's that swift reveal that has the full hefty curve of his already hardened cock springing upward, instantly nudging its tip at a pert cheek of nami's ass, the leaky slit dragging a light wet strip to her skin. ]
Got you beat, Mosshead. [ he mutters with his lips still latched to nami's skin, knowing zoro's close enough to hear, because there's still going to be that stupid boyish pride with the results of an immature race.
reaching down to grip at his base, he aligns the shaft to nestle between nami's cheeks, offering the slow roll of a teasing grind for her to feel that erect weight, breathing a sigh to her shoulder as he reaches a hand around her hip, curving low and inward, fingers catching the first flutter of her folds and massaging a testing stroke along the surface of her cunt. ]
Hurry up and finish getting naked. [ directed at zoro, of course, even as he drags his lips behind her ear, kissing the lobe with the lowness of his aroused voice. ] So you can help me in making sure Nami feels so damn good tonight.
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it was unusual to see her lose her cool for once, yet hot in its own way – forcing them back on equal ground, her own walls slipping in the way she’d already forced his down.
he’d only been vaguely aware of sanji’s movements in the background, focus fixed firmly on the woman in front of him, thoughts of competition temporarily derailed by the way her tongue slid up against his – yet he couldn’t quite ignore that quiet rustle of fabric being yanked down, nor that irritating voice that made him want to both knock him on his ass and kiss him all over again. zoro rolled his eyes, visible only to nami at this proximity, a shared flicker of almost fond annoyance before he finally turned his head to look back at the cook. ]
Guess you’re used to being done quick.
[ he hadn’t wanted to be the first one naked, but he admittedly hadn’t considered the consequences of being the last, either. they were swiftly realized the moment sanji leaned back in, pressing between the cleft of her cheeks in a move that made zoro’s own cock ache in response, the faint twitch enough for nami to feel as his envy spiked once more – and he had no one to blame but himself. even now he could feel that easy grind of his hips, the secondhand pressure making him exhale sharp against her skin.
unwilling to give him even that brief satisfaction, he instead dipped his head to kiss at the opposite side of nami’s throat, all wet lips and the occasional catch of teeth as he worked his way down, nipping a mark at the ridge of her collarbone. he’d let his fingers tangle in the back of sanji’s hair, and he gave a sharp tug as he withdrew – not with any real intent to pull him away, but enough to remind him he was very much there.
horny as he was, it still wouldn’t make the attempted orders go down smooth, the way they might have coming from nami – but he’d be damned if he was going to waste the opportunity and leave the idiot to enjoy himself. it’s with a begrudging sort of compliance that he finally pulled back, only enough to deftly unbutton his own pants, shoving them down without any real ceremony and kicking them off to the side.
it was, at least, long enough to appreciate the view, dark eyes dragging the length of nami’s torso to where the blond’s fingers teased down, slipping between slick folds in a way that both held his attention and shoved up against a more possessive instinct, the part of him that refused to let someone else set the pace. it was why it was sanji that his lips found next, pressing a rough kiss at the hinge of his jaw, taking in the faint scent of smoke and spice as his breath fanned hot against his ear. ]
Don’t need you to tell me that.
[ the words may have been directed at him, but his attention remained centered on nami, hand teasing up over the curve of her breast, claiming in its grasp – even if only for a moment, briefly catching the peak of her nipple before he wandered lower, down the gentle curve of her stomach. leaving the touch to linger, he traced a line just below her navel, a promise never fully delivered. ]
Someone’s gonna have to, when you come first.
[ with a half-smirk and a sharp sting of teeth against the cook’s ear, zoro hooked his fingers around nami’s wrist, guiding delicate fingers toward the hard length of his cock. the slight hitch in his breath was felt through a tightened grip on her hip, his opposite hand braced there, keeping her pinned more firmly against the slow rock of sanji’s hips. ]
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The world beats in a staccato rhythm that echoes how her pulse jumps and races, eager to the point that the effortless cool she’s honed like a tool that does double duty as a weapon and a suit of armor becomes pointless and gets tossed aside. There’s no masking how she shivers as she draws herself up and arches into the hand Zoro palms over the full curve of her ass, and it’s only the voracity of her mouth on his that stifles the quiet groan that feeling his cock, hard and insistent against her hip, pulls out of her, a purr messily concealed between the insistent gliding lick of her tongue and the purposeful, rolling way she grinds briefly against the shape of him, while Sanji’s mouth on her neck keeps her perpetually on the edge of trembling between them.
Just as the hand in Zoro’s hair trails down the nape of his neck, nails dragging in the wake of her perpetually inquisitive palms, and the one slipping low on Sanji’s stomach gets deliciously close to the thickened base of him, the cook draws back, leaving her hand reaching for him even after he presses a kiss to her palm, and the ensuing rustle of fabric removes any doubt about why he withdrew from the slowly interlinking knot of bodies and limbs the three of them have begun creating among themselves.
It’s likely Zoro can feel her smirk against his neck when he takes Sanji’s bait (and did the cook really just boast about getting his pants off first?) leaving her to plant hot, open kisses along the column of his neck, pulling open the button at the top of her pants while her other hand continues reaching behind her, greedy fingers seeking purchase on the newly bared angles of one of Sanji’s hips so she can drag him closer. His chest is snug against her back, and the slick trail of pre that the thickened-up crown of his cock leaves a heated streak across her skin, teasing in a way that makes her want to press hard against him until the hard drag of him against the cleft of her ass, before slipping further to tease her folds, fanning the ache that’s been building steadily since the door shut behind them, ensuring he finds her wet when his cock grinds against her.
Kiss-swollen lips glisten with saliva as Zoro draws back to finish undressing, and she’s left looking after him with heavy-lidded eyes blown dark with desire, while Sanji’s mouth on her neck continues to keep her arching and grinding against him, the hold she keeps on his hip relentless, her fingers digging into his flesh. Weak under the weight of Zoro’s stare and the searingly hot awareness that he’s watching Sanji’s hand travel between her thighs to further tease her cunt, she gasps sharply as pleasure lances through her, too far gone to want to try and act like the lust burning its way through her is blazing any less voraciously than it is.
That heat makes her skin almost uncomfortably hot and leaves her face flushed in the seconds it takes for Zoro to return and tangle himself up in this mess once more, the evidence of his arousal pressing tantalizingly low on the line of her hip, close enough to make the mental image of fucking them both race through her mind for the hundredth time that evening, but this time the hues of this particular vision are made all the more vivid as she takes in the gorgeous sight of Zoro as he brings his mouth close to Sanji’s jaw, muttering arguments against the other man’s skin while he leads her hand to his cock at the same time.
Following the sight and the growled pitch of Zoro’s voice, Nami twists at the waist as her hand wraps into a loose fist around him, palm curving and massaging the head of his cock, getting her skin slick with his pre before working down the length of him, the slow stroke of her hand mirroring the way she grinds that slick heat against Sanji. ]
The two of you are going to feel like real idiots when I make you both come first. [ From this angle she can lean in and let her mouth wander, running kisses down Sanji’s neck before turning her head so her teeth can graze Zoro’s shoulder, biting down just enough for him to feel it while his teeth tease at Sanji’s earlobe. ]
Just keep it together, idiots. You both better be fucking me tonight. [ The hand on Zoro’s cock withdraws to slip between her thighs, the flats of her fingers still slick with his pre as they massage the underside of Sanji’s cock, pressing him flush against the soaked heat of her folds, teasing him with the prospect of more while wetting up her palm with her own arousal. When her fingers wrap back around Zoro’s length barely a heartbeat later, her skin glides hot and slick against him, fucking him faster with her fisted hand. ]
💜💚 it's me hi — during the miss all sunday era
hello you 💜💚
your boss got my message
[ not that he'd sent it directly - marines usually prefer the whole body for bounties. but he had no doubt they'd know about it. ]
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It was quite the message. I thought it qualified you even more for the position.
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[ not that his stance had changed, the math behind their interest had him curious - divide mr. seven in half, and who do you get? ]
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I work personally alongside Mr. 0, the head of our organization.
I realize I might have miscalculated not seeing to meeting you personally instead of our mutual acquaintance.
[ rip mr. seven. ]
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he saved you some time
gonna tell you the same thing i told him
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thought you did your research
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I think you would.
I think the moment you meet me, if you assess me to be a threat, you wouldn't hesitate.
[ not that it frightens her. most have responded to her that way. some far more ruthless than the man she speaks to now. ]
Still - even if you decide again not to join us, I'd like to meet you.
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[ just to be clear on that part. may want to work on that for their next potential recruitment. ]
this where you tell me you can change my mind?
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[ it's not like she cared for him all too much. ]
No. There's every chance that I won't. But I'm still very curious about you.
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[ if that last idiot could, not a doubt in his mind that she could - without the time wasted following him for three days. ]
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[ a strategy to keep himself from being followed or his own absentmindedness? ]
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must really want me to join your club
[ does that make him more predictable, or her that persistent? ]
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what's in it for me?
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That's what you need, isn't it?
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you're the one who wants to meet me