(One Piece) Coax
Title: Coax
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Nami
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2560
Timeline: Pre-Drum Island
Notes: For 50_smutlets, prompt "lips".
Summary: Teenage hormones and lazy restless afternoons.
Nami sat on the foot of the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, gazing absentmindedly at something that didn’t exist. The air in her cabin was warm, the midday sun and rather vigorous exercise the room had just witnessed combining to create a haze of heat and laziness. She had lots to do, any navigator on the Grand Line was always busy, but the stillness of the air soothed her, and her muscles were a content mess of jelly and satisfaction, and she really couldn’t be bothered to move.
Zoro, who’d been perched on the edge of the bed as he buttoned his trousers, nodded towards the white t-shirt Nami had slipped on. “You gonna give that back?”
Nami glanced towards him, quick eyes taking in the frown, the sheen of sweat still glistening on his collarbone, arms rested on his thighs. Head slightly lowered, but tilting towards her, and she knew what answer he was expecting, so naturally she gave him the opposite.
There was something so satisfying about making Zoro blush, watching with a thinly-veiled pride as his eyes widened, just slightly, before narrowing and turning away. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his cheeks as she dropped the t-shirt neatly in his lap, before crossing her arms just under her now-exposed chest.
Maybe it was the uncharacteristic calm of the ocean, or the security of knowing that, in Vivi, there was finally a member of the crew who could be trusted with the Log Pose for more than thirty seconds without sending them in completely the opposite direction. Whatever the odd feeing in the air was, it prickled at Nami’s skin, teased at her instincts and coaxed at her pulse.
It made Nami want to play.
“You know, I don’t know how you feel about me,” she sighed softly.
His shoulders snapped rigid, tension jolting up his spine so quickly she was surprised he didn’t snap in two. Perhaps an underhand statement, to match an underhand strategy, but Nami always found her most hard-won and delicious victories were those where Zoro started out on the defensive.
She settled on the bed beside him, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, fingers tracing perfect circles.
“I suppose it’s only fair, since you don’t know how I feel about you,” she continued, waiting for him to bite, to turn to her.
He never kept her waiting long.
“Do you want me to tell you how I feel?”
Oh, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the way every word was ripped from his throat, knew she was pushing him too far already. Wanted to send him right to the edge and not let him back, keep him balanced with only the skill of her tongue.
He was glowering, a fierce and deep frown that would have scared off a lesser being. There was, of course, nothing ‘lesser’ about Nami, and she had seen Zoro at war, seen him fight for his nakama, for his dreams. In comparison, his snarl seemed dampened to something more like a pout.
“Now, why would I want you to do that?” she asked smoothly, looking at him through lowered lashes.
His eyes narrowed, scowl deepening but only looking more and more petulant to her. Catching on, because he was surprisingly skilled at guessing her plans, even if he had no way to resist them. She let her lips twitch, let him catch a hint of her smile. Offer him that understanding, because it was the easiest way to keep him following her. Let him think, just once, he might catch her out.
“Besides, I don’t know how I feel about you, anyway,” she said with a shrug, letting herself flop against his side.
The pause was heavy, and she let him weigh the options. Trying to figure out where she might be going, how he could proceed, every course of action measured. Slower when it came to their ongoing war than when he battled some unknown enemy, because they both knew Nami wasn’t going anywhere, and that Zoro would never be stupid enough to walk away or die.
“You don’t,” he muttered finally. Not a question, not a commitment. Just testing the waters.
“Nope,” Nami replied simply, twisting around so she could gaze up at his profile.
She could practically feel the control he was exerting over himself not to glance her way.
“There are certain things I understand, of course,” she explained, sitting up and allowing a more abrupt tone to slip into her voice.
The shift in her manner, in the atmosphere, was enough to make him turn to her, brow creased. She turned away as soon as their eyes met, felt him exhale sharply. Pulling him towards her, trapping him, and he was the best kind of opponent because he recognised every stumble and mistake and saved her the bother of pointing them out for him.
“I like the way you think you can out drink me,” she continued, and watched out of the corner of her eye as he snorted, eyes rolling and a grin tugging at his lips.
He let himself fall back against the bed, and she fell with him, curling towards him. Careful to keep her body language relaxed, her smile light.
“What’s this ‘think’ rubbish?” he laughed, staring at the ceiling and idly lacing their fingers together.
Defences shattered, defences she’d raised only moments before, and Nami allowed herself a giddy thrill at the manipulation of it, the way she could tread that line between comfort and threat so easily, the way she could twist Zoro’s most base instincts.
“I like the way you trust Luffy so implicitly,” she whispered.
“So do you,” he answered instantly, hand squeezing at hers and smile disappearing.
Not quite defensive, but a definite shift in the air around them, in the tension. As heady as the coming of any storm, and Nami only had to let the pressure drop as the heat began to rise and the thunder was already rumbling around them.
“Yeah, I do,” she agreed, rolling towards him, one leg sliding over his thigh.
He watched, hooded eyes and quietly intent interest as she moved to straddle him, hands resting on his chest. Let him look for just a moment longer before she leant towards him, slower than felt natural, slower than felt comfortable. Felt the static of lightning crackle between them, felt his eyes boring into her like death and passion and the ocean, and maybe she’d become a little lost in the game, but she was always the winner.
“And,” she murmured, pausing slightly to let every ounce of sincerity she could muster flicker through her eyes. “I love…”
She felt his breath quicken, his fingers twitch at his sides, eyes portraying the impatience, the anxiousness, that his face could not.
Caught. Utterly trapped.
Her lips hovered over his, just a shiver away from touching. “Love the way you absolutely cannot kiss.”
Took a moment for her words to sink in, just a moment before his eyes flew wide, and that only made the victory that much sweeter. Kept her expression as earnestly frozen as she could, truth and secrets exposed, seemingly offered so easily, until he growled, hands grabbing at her shoulders and flipping her roughly onto her back. Kept the self-satisfied smile from her lips until she was staring up at his incredulous rage, and he was blushing again, and Nami wanted to reach for him, but she knew it better to wait.
“You … you …”
That danger in his eyes was the kind reserved just for her.
His lips were firm against hers, a little too hard, a little too thin. Always took him just a moment to let instinct take over. And then there was a softness to him that few would suspect Zoro capable of, as he tilted his head to find the best angle, as his tongue coaxed at hers. Just a touch messy, and Nami never admitted that maybe that was the way she liked it.
She gave him longer than usual, lying there and simply taking it, not because she couldn’t compete, but because she had no reason to. Agile tongue and teeth that knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to her lower lip, and that was one of her favourite tricks, and one that she hadn’t taught him. She felt that familiar heat rushing through her body, spreading through her chest, settling between her legs, and she was still so sensitised, and her patience was trembling along with her thighs.
He pulled back, stared down at her with an expression that could only be described as smug. She refused to look at his lips, knew from experience just how wet and swollen they’d be, corners quirked in a smirk.
Nami stuck out her tongue and made an unimpressed noise.
The smile disappeared from his face, flickering through several expressions before deciding on suspicious.
It was tempting, of course, to keep the game going. Stretch it out, see just how much it would take before he snapped and took her up against the wall, trying to ignore her laughter and jibes.
But they’d been below deck for too long already, and the Grand Line’s rare acts of kindness weren’t to be taken advantage of. And Nami needed, before the call of training or Luffy could distract Zoro.
She wrapped her thighs around his waist and the smile aching inside of her spread to her face. He rolled his eyes, she was getting far too used to seeing him do that, and frowned down at her. Not a petulant frown, certainly not one of pure anger. Something closer to affectionate, and Nami tried to keep that emotion from her own face as she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him down towards her.
This was where their teamwork had always been strongest, give and take that had nothing to do with words or debts or promises. Just Zoro’s hard-edged passion and Nami’s curved and shimmering lust, and a harmony they lacked everywhere else. Nami using her grip on his ear to tug his head to the right, Zoro’s annoyed grunt, and the way they both moaned quietly, identically, when the new angle made it better. Nami’s fingers unzipping Zoro’s trousers before he could realise they’d snuck below his waist, and the moment of hesitation before he tugged down her underwear, one thumb hooking under the waistband. The way she rewarded him with the light scrape of fingernails at his waist, not high enough to be seen above the haramaki, and the hiss of appreciation lost in her mouth, and the way neither of them ever talked about just how much he enjoyed that.
She had to loosen her grip, legs falling back on the bed, so he could awkwardly shove his trousers down his legs, lips separating for just a moment but breath still heavy and ragged between them. Feeling the rush of it, creeping up on them, and he was always so careless in the way he knocked her thighs apart, but never rough, and Nami had to bite her lips against her smile. Noticed the way he noticed, another moment of hesitation, just studying, and she pushed herself up on her elbows, kissed at his frown until it lessened. Felt him shake his head, to himself, and one arm slipped around her back, supporting her shoulder blades, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him hold her suspended, and that first push always left her breathless, even still slick and inviting from the last time.
Zoro shuddered, and she let that rip through her, because it always made it better. Heady ripple through his spine, down his hips, and she groaned, or maybe giggled, and squeezed at his thighs with her legs, and with everything, and he grunted and nodded and started to move. Slow, rocking her back against the bed, but Nami was impatient and she couldn’t tell if the air was shifting because of them or the weather outside and she wanted to check and she wanted to finish what they’d started. Tried to roll her hips into it, but the way he was holding her made it too awkward, and she grumbled and yanked at his hair, and he frowned at her and obligingly dropped her back against the mattress.
His eyes narrowed again as she licked her lips, before bracing her feet on the bed, and he planted his hands on either side of her head and refused to break the rhythm as she began to thrust up against each roll of his hips. Too tired and too frantic to work much finesse into it, just the odd twist, and letting each noise work itself free of her throat, and friction and Zoro cursing quietly above her, eyes slitted but staring right at her. Shifting his weight to one arm, and Nami’s body flushed with anticipation as she recognised the change in him, that single-mindedness entirely concentrated on her. Freed hand digging into her thigh, guiding, adding to the power behind each buck of her hips, and this was the only way she’d ever allow him, or anyone, to manipulate her body, and he wasn’t making her, wasn’t forcing her, was just lending his strength to her.
Spikes of pleasure giving way to something more constant and fitful, and she may have been talking, because the noises she was making were clearly adding to the flush of Zoro’s cheeks. His eyes were dark, refusing to leave hers, even though she could see him straining to keep them open. Watched as they squeezed shut, only to flutter open again, snapping back to her gaze each time, and she wasn’t breathing anymore, just panting and struggling to hold on. His lips were parted and Nami wanted to kiss him but all she could do was jerk up again, feel her thighs refuse to listen, her hips refuse to move, as everything shivered and tightened, and it was entirely Zoro pushing towards her, pulling her towards him, as her head tilted back, and she could barely hear his accompanying groan over the sound of his heartbeat. Intensity, the rush, all those feelings she felt when her eyes fell on Zoro suddenly assaulting her, physical and overwhelming, and Nami couldn’t hold on and didn’t want to, and Zoro was right there at the edge with her, ready to fall together.
It took a moment for her heart to stop aching in her chest, for her lungs to stop burning and breath to come back to her. Zoro was always gracious enough to shift over to the side before collapsing, landing beside her, breath heavy and hot on her shoulder. Nami stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to will her vision to settle, to stop swimming, before she turned to look at him.
“You can’t sleep here, you know,” she pointed out.
“I know that,” he grumbled back, eyes not opening, frown ever-present.
There was definitely a catch in the air, subtle but nagging, and it wasn’t fair to leave Vivi in charge of the Merry’s course for so long.
“Get up,” Nami sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes. “And find my clothes.”
“Witch,” Zoro replied sleepily.
Fandom: One Piece
Pairing: Zoro/Nami
Rating: NC-17
Words: 2560
Timeline: Pre-Drum Island
Notes: For 50_smutlets, prompt "lips".
Summary: Teenage hormones and lazy restless afternoons.
Nami sat on the foot of the bed, knees pulled up to her chest, arms wrapped around her legs, gazing absentmindedly at something that didn’t exist. The air in her cabin was warm, the midday sun and rather vigorous exercise the room had just witnessed combining to create a haze of heat and laziness. She had lots to do, any navigator on the Grand Line was always busy, but the stillness of the air soothed her, and her muscles were a content mess of jelly and satisfaction, and she really couldn’t be bothered to move.
Zoro, who’d been perched on the edge of the bed as he buttoned his trousers, nodded towards the white t-shirt Nami had slipped on. “You gonna give that back?”
Nami glanced towards him, quick eyes taking in the frown, the sheen of sweat still glistening on his collarbone, arms rested on his thighs. Head slightly lowered, but tilting towards her, and she knew what answer he was expecting, so naturally she gave him the opposite.
There was something so satisfying about making Zoro blush, watching with a thinly-veiled pride as his eyes widened, just slightly, before narrowing and turning away. She could almost feel the heat radiating from his cheeks as she dropped the t-shirt neatly in his lap, before crossing her arms just under her now-exposed chest.
Maybe it was the uncharacteristic calm of the ocean, or the security of knowing that, in Vivi, there was finally a member of the crew who could be trusted with the Log Pose for more than thirty seconds without sending them in completely the opposite direction. Whatever the odd feeing in the air was, it prickled at Nami’s skin, teased at her instincts and coaxed at her pulse.
It made Nami want to play.
“You know, I don’t know how you feel about me,” she sighed softly.
His shoulders snapped rigid, tension jolting up his spine so quickly she was surprised he didn’t snap in two. Perhaps an underhand statement, to match an underhand strategy, but Nami always found her most hard-won and delicious victories were those where Zoro started out on the defensive.
She settled on the bed beside him, one hand resting lightly on his thigh, fingers tracing perfect circles.
“I suppose it’s only fair, since you don’t know how I feel about you,” she continued, waiting for him to bite, to turn to her.
He never kept her waiting long.
“Do you want me to tell you how I feel?”
Oh, but she couldn’t help but enjoy the way every word was ripped from his throat, knew she was pushing him too far already. Wanted to send him right to the edge and not let him back, keep him balanced with only the skill of her tongue.
He was glowering, a fierce and deep frown that would have scared off a lesser being. There was, of course, nothing ‘lesser’ about Nami, and she had seen Zoro at war, seen him fight for his nakama, for his dreams. In comparison, his snarl seemed dampened to something more like a pout.
“Now, why would I want you to do that?” she asked smoothly, looking at him through lowered lashes.
His eyes narrowed, scowl deepening but only looking more and more petulant to her. Catching on, because he was surprisingly skilled at guessing her plans, even if he had no way to resist them. She let her lips twitch, let him catch a hint of her smile. Offer him that understanding, because it was the easiest way to keep him following her. Let him think, just once, he might catch her out.
“Besides, I don’t know how I feel about you, anyway,” she said with a shrug, letting herself flop against his side.
The pause was heavy, and she let him weigh the options. Trying to figure out where she might be going, how he could proceed, every course of action measured. Slower when it came to their ongoing war than when he battled some unknown enemy, because they both knew Nami wasn’t going anywhere, and that Zoro would never be stupid enough to walk away or die.
“You don’t,” he muttered finally. Not a question, not a commitment. Just testing the waters.
“Nope,” Nami replied simply, twisting around so she could gaze up at his profile.
She could practically feel the control he was exerting over himself not to glance her way.
“There are certain things I understand, of course,” she explained, sitting up and allowing a more abrupt tone to slip into her voice.
The shift in her manner, in the atmosphere, was enough to make him turn to her, brow creased. She turned away as soon as their eyes met, felt him exhale sharply. Pulling him towards her, trapping him, and he was the best kind of opponent because he recognised every stumble and mistake and saved her the bother of pointing them out for him.
“I like the way you think you can out drink me,” she continued, and watched out of the corner of her eye as he snorted, eyes rolling and a grin tugging at his lips.
He let himself fall back against the bed, and she fell with him, curling towards him. Careful to keep her body language relaxed, her smile light.
“What’s this ‘think’ rubbish?” he laughed, staring at the ceiling and idly lacing their fingers together.
Defences shattered, defences she’d raised only moments before, and Nami allowed herself a giddy thrill at the manipulation of it, the way she could tread that line between comfort and threat so easily, the way she could twist Zoro’s most base instincts.
“I like the way you trust Luffy so implicitly,” she whispered.
“So do you,” he answered instantly, hand squeezing at hers and smile disappearing.
Not quite defensive, but a definite shift in the air around them, in the tension. As heady as the coming of any storm, and Nami only had to let the pressure drop as the heat began to rise and the thunder was already rumbling around them.
“Yeah, I do,” she agreed, rolling towards him, one leg sliding over his thigh.
He watched, hooded eyes and quietly intent interest as she moved to straddle him, hands resting on his chest. Let him look for just a moment longer before she leant towards him, slower than felt natural, slower than felt comfortable. Felt the static of lightning crackle between them, felt his eyes boring into her like death and passion and the ocean, and maybe she’d become a little lost in the game, but she was always the winner.
“And,” she murmured, pausing slightly to let every ounce of sincerity she could muster flicker through her eyes. “I love…”
She felt his breath quicken, his fingers twitch at his sides, eyes portraying the impatience, the anxiousness, that his face could not.
Caught. Utterly trapped.
Her lips hovered over his, just a shiver away from touching. “Love the way you absolutely cannot kiss.”
Took a moment for her words to sink in, just a moment before his eyes flew wide, and that only made the victory that much sweeter. Kept her expression as earnestly frozen as she could, truth and secrets exposed, seemingly offered so easily, until he growled, hands grabbing at her shoulders and flipping her roughly onto her back. Kept the self-satisfied smile from her lips until she was staring up at his incredulous rage, and he was blushing again, and Nami wanted to reach for him, but she knew it better to wait.
“You … you …”
That danger in his eyes was the kind reserved just for her.
His lips were firm against hers, a little too hard, a little too thin. Always took him just a moment to let instinct take over. And then there was a softness to him that few would suspect Zoro capable of, as he tilted his head to find the best angle, as his tongue coaxed at hers. Just a touch messy, and Nami never admitted that maybe that was the way she liked it.
She gave him longer than usual, lying there and simply taking it, not because she couldn’t compete, but because she had no reason to. Agile tongue and teeth that knew just the right amount of pressure to apply to her lower lip, and that was one of her favourite tricks, and one that she hadn’t taught him. She felt that familiar heat rushing through her body, spreading through her chest, settling between her legs, and she was still so sensitised, and her patience was trembling along with her thighs.
He pulled back, stared down at her with an expression that could only be described as smug. She refused to look at his lips, knew from experience just how wet and swollen they’d be, corners quirked in a smirk.
Nami stuck out her tongue and made an unimpressed noise.
The smile disappeared from his face, flickering through several expressions before deciding on suspicious.
It was tempting, of course, to keep the game going. Stretch it out, see just how much it would take before he snapped and took her up against the wall, trying to ignore her laughter and jibes.
But they’d been below deck for too long already, and the Grand Line’s rare acts of kindness weren’t to be taken advantage of. And Nami needed, before the call of training or Luffy could distract Zoro.
She wrapped her thighs around his waist and the smile aching inside of her spread to her face. He rolled his eyes, she was getting far too used to seeing him do that, and frowned down at her. Not a petulant frown, certainly not one of pure anger. Something closer to affectionate, and Nami tried to keep that emotion from her own face as she tangled her hands in his hair and pulled him down towards her.
This was where their teamwork had always been strongest, give and take that had nothing to do with words or debts or promises. Just Zoro’s hard-edged passion and Nami’s curved and shimmering lust, and a harmony they lacked everywhere else. Nami using her grip on his ear to tug his head to the right, Zoro’s annoyed grunt, and the way they both moaned quietly, identically, when the new angle made it better. Nami’s fingers unzipping Zoro’s trousers before he could realise they’d snuck below his waist, and the moment of hesitation before he tugged down her underwear, one thumb hooking under the waistband. The way she rewarded him with the light scrape of fingernails at his waist, not high enough to be seen above the haramaki, and the hiss of appreciation lost in her mouth, and the way neither of them ever talked about just how much he enjoyed that.
She had to loosen her grip, legs falling back on the bed, so he could awkwardly shove his trousers down his legs, lips separating for just a moment but breath still heavy and ragged between them. Feeling the rush of it, creeping up on them, and he was always so careless in the way he knocked her thighs apart, but never rough, and Nami had to bite her lips against her smile. Noticed the way he noticed, another moment of hesitation, just studying, and she pushed herself up on her elbows, kissed at his frown until it lessened. Felt him shake his head, to himself, and one arm slipped around her back, supporting her shoulder blades, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and let him hold her suspended, and that first push always left her breathless, even still slick and inviting from the last time.
Zoro shuddered, and she let that rip through her, because it always made it better. Heady ripple through his spine, down his hips, and she groaned, or maybe giggled, and squeezed at his thighs with her legs, and with everything, and he grunted and nodded and started to move. Slow, rocking her back against the bed, but Nami was impatient and she couldn’t tell if the air was shifting because of them or the weather outside and she wanted to check and she wanted to finish what they’d started. Tried to roll her hips into it, but the way he was holding her made it too awkward, and she grumbled and yanked at his hair, and he frowned at her and obligingly dropped her back against the mattress.
His eyes narrowed again as she licked her lips, before bracing her feet on the bed, and he planted his hands on either side of her head and refused to break the rhythm as she began to thrust up against each roll of his hips. Too tired and too frantic to work much finesse into it, just the odd twist, and letting each noise work itself free of her throat, and friction and Zoro cursing quietly above her, eyes slitted but staring right at her. Shifting his weight to one arm, and Nami’s body flushed with anticipation as she recognised the change in him, that single-mindedness entirely concentrated on her. Freed hand digging into her thigh, guiding, adding to the power behind each buck of her hips, and this was the only way she’d ever allow him, or anyone, to manipulate her body, and he wasn’t making her, wasn’t forcing her, was just lending his strength to her.
Spikes of pleasure giving way to something more constant and fitful, and she may have been talking, because the noises she was making were clearly adding to the flush of Zoro’s cheeks. His eyes were dark, refusing to leave hers, even though she could see him straining to keep them open. Watched as they squeezed shut, only to flutter open again, snapping back to her gaze each time, and she wasn’t breathing anymore, just panting and struggling to hold on. His lips were parted and Nami wanted to kiss him but all she could do was jerk up again, feel her thighs refuse to listen, her hips refuse to move, as everything shivered and tightened, and it was entirely Zoro pushing towards her, pulling her towards him, as her head tilted back, and she could barely hear his accompanying groan over the sound of his heartbeat. Intensity, the rush, all those feelings she felt when her eyes fell on Zoro suddenly assaulting her, physical and overwhelming, and Nami couldn’t hold on and didn’t want to, and Zoro was right there at the edge with her, ready to fall together.
It took a moment for her heart to stop aching in her chest, for her lungs to stop burning and breath to come back to her. Zoro was always gracious enough to shift over to the side before collapsing, landing beside her, breath heavy and hot on her shoulder. Nami stared up at the ceiling for a moment, trying to will her vision to settle, to stop swimming, before she turned to look at him.
“You can’t sleep here, you know,” she pointed out.
“I know that,” he grumbled back, eyes not opening, frown ever-present.
There was definitely a catch in the air, subtle but nagging, and it wasn’t fair to leave Vivi in charge of the Merry’s course for so long.
“Get up,” Nami sighed, throwing an arm over her eyes. “And find my clothes.”
“Witch,” Zoro replied sleepily.