Chapter 1: The Cost of Cream (and Other Tactics)
Summary:
Ch.1 — The Cost of Cream (and Other Tactics)
A post-port run-in turns into sharp flirting, debt math, and Zoro’s button-pushing about directions and desire. Nami files the slight under “payable,” with interest, and the Sunny sails into a very calm night.
Notes:
Canon banter, mild jealousy/ego needling, talk of “punishment” purely as teasing. No sexual content on-screen; setup for consent dynamics and debt motif.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Nami knew he was insufferable and irresistible, but it was different when he knew that.
They had clashed in another stopover-turned-adventure. Late afternoon heat clung to the boards; market stalls rattled shut behind them; gulls barked at the commotion. Zoro had said it offhandedly as the Straw Hats returned to the ship, treasure and supplies in tow.
“I’m not lost! I go exactly where you want me to go—so point!”
She hated it when he praised her with his double-meaning jabs. Nami knew she could direct him into the ocean if she wanted to, but where was the fun in that?
“It’s ’cause you are so dumb—”
“Well,” he hissed, “you like fucking dumb, so what does that make you?”
“An idiot!” she fumed back.
They ran side by side, boots thudding, the harbor smell of salt and tar in their throats, legs pressing into the ground to propel them back to the ship and safety. And perhaps…
“Tell me, Nami,” he smirked, not looking at her. “Where are you gonna take me this time?”
“What?” she said as each letter slipped past her tongue.
“You always get so… touchy after a good fight.”
She flared her nostrils. “As if I—”
“You deny it?”
“I—”
“Don’t lie to me now,” he said as he grabbed her hand and launched them onto the deck. Planks boomed under their weight; lines creaked; the Sunny rocked. “It makes me want to punish you.”
“Of all the pig-headed, obnoxious, stupid—”
“Nami-swan! If I had known you needed an escort, I would have—” the blonde cook started, vaulting out of the galley with a flourish.
But Nami was already in motion.
“Franky, let’s get a Burst going! We need some distance between us and those guys—”
“SUPER! On it!” Franky’s chair squealed somewhere below as valves spun and the Coup de Burst prep clanked to life.
Luffy and Zoro grinned at the sea. “Or we could—” as Luffy stretched his arms and Zoro drew his blades, but Nami already pelted them both in the head with her logbook, a clean two-for-one.
“No! It’s your fault we got stuck in a fight that wasn’t ours!”
“But Nami—” Luffy moaned, rubbing his head, but Nami wasn’t having it.
She was already snapping orders to Usopp at the lines, checking wind against her cheek, counting swells, and ticking off headings. The Sunny eased her bow; canvas bellied; the pier slid away.
Zoro chuckled, resheathing with a soft click. “We’ve got to listen to her, Captain. You’re the one who made her the navigator, weren’t you?”
It was a sly smile, and Nami hid her blush by forcing her eyes to the skies and letting the winds carry whatever else she was harboring.
As the storm clouds gathered behind them, the horizon bruised purple and gray, Nami knew. There would be hell to pay for his cheekiness.
By evening, lanterns glowed in warm circles along the rail. The sea settled into long, even breaths. Zoro found Nami enjoying the cool breeze by her orange trees; the leaves flicked in the salt air, fruit beading with fog. Without another word, he tapped a cup by her elbow, and she took it and sipped.
“Your good sake? What did I do to deserve this?”
He rolled his good eye. “I just had extra, witch.”
“Don’t think this lowers your debt.”
He snorted. “You know… I’m the only one of our crew that you charge interest.”
“You deserve every penalty.”
“Over Luffy’s food, Usopp’s gadgets, Robin’s books, or that stupid cook’s—”
“Sanji cooks for all of us. Usopp and Franky ensure the ship and our weapons work. Robin needs her books, and Luffy’s the Captain. Surprise, you didn’t go after Chopper or Brook?”
“Brook barely buys anything, and Chopper needs his medicine.”
“Wow, Zoro. A soft spot then.”
“Oh, please. I know when we need things.”
“So then,” she wanted to be mean, “what do you do, First Mate?”
“I protect Luffy. And you all.”
“Is that what a First Mate does? Do your sword skills not offer another service?”
“Depends on which sword you are talking about. If you’d like a demonstration—”
“No, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t think I have forgotten. In the kitchen? With Sanji’s poor bowl. We had to buy him a whole new set—”
“That wasn’t my fault.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“No, you—”
“Admit it, Zoro. You like it… when people watch.”
“Haa?”
“You heard me. You like to fuck loud and proud with no concerns over who is around you.”
“Even if I had many examples to pull from—which I don’t—I would rather do it behind closed doors.”
“Why? Ashamed?”
“Nami,” he looked down at her with a curious glare. “What do I need to be ashamed of?”
There it was again. That pride and sense of manliness were irritating because it was hard to resist. The deck ticked; somewhere below, pipes settled; an orange leaf spun down and tapped the cup.
“You know you’re right.”
“I am?” Zoro wasn’t used to winning an argument with Nami.
“Yeah. You like your privacy. And that’s why I charge you interest.”
“You charge me interest because—”
“Because you pretend like you want to keep quiet—”
“What are you even saying, woman? I think you charge me so much at this rate to keep me indebted to you.”
“And what if I am?”
“If you want me to stay by your side, just admit it.”
“There is nothing for me to admit. I’m not the one who’s the exhibitionist.”
“And neither am I.”
“Then I guess we can both be lying.”
“Nami—”
“Don’t. I’m not your Captain. You don’t need to take care of me like you do Luffy. I can take care of myself. As I’m sure you can take care of yourself… You always have.”
And with that, Nami walked to the girls’ quarters, sandals soft on the boards, while Zoro stood and watched her. The ship hummed; oranges rustled; the portholes wore a thin skin of night. He wondered what exactly he had done to gather her wrath. He much preferred her debts.
Notes:
Well, well, well...am I horny again or is there plot to my smut? The world may never know.
Chapter 2: Interest (Collected)
Summary:
Ch.2 — Interest (Collected)
While the crew sleeps, Nami tests silence, timing, and Zoro’s claim he’s not an exhibitionist; the men’s quarters become a battlefield of muffled taunts and very careful rhythm. They both “lose” on purpose, and the ship pretends it didn’t notice.
Notes:
Explicit; semi-public/stealth sex in the men’s quarters; hand-over-mouth to muffle (not breath play), dirty talk, possessive notes, almost-caught tension. Mentions of Sanji/Luffy/Usopp/Chopper asleep; no actual voyeurism; consent maintained with physical cues (taps) and verbal check-ins.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Night came like it always did at sea: sudden, total, star-punched. The Sunny’s lanterns threw warm puddles down the corridors; fish-shadows slipped across the library ceiling; Brook’s violin hummed through the walls, then faded. One by one, the crew sank into their separate silences—Franky to his workshop, Usopp to a hammock knotted with tools, Sanji to a kitchen glowering at the fridge like it owed him alimony. Luffy belly-flopped into sleep with a grin.
Meanwhile, Nami charted a final line, blew the gold dry, and slid the tube home. Wax. Twine. Thunk. Her mind ran a different grid: the creak before the galley, the steps to the men’s quarters, the places the boards wouldn’t complain.
She had donned the costume that had fit her so well before: Cat Burglar. Sandals off. Bare feet. Warm wood. Salt air. A bulkhead groaned as the ship shrugged at a lazy swell.
She listened outside the men’s door as Luffy snored like a buzzsaw. Usopp whispered, “treasure… port side…” to nobody. Chopper’s ears twitched; he burrowed deeper.
Brook hummed two bars and politely stopped. Sanji sighed, “Nami-swan…” like a man on his deathbed.
The door didn’t creak. Nami slipped inside. Hammocks swayed. Ropes ticked. The room was warm with bodies and breath.
Zoro lay in his hammock, one arm over his eyes. Head empty, thoughts sprinting.
Soft pads of feet. Zoro didn’t move.
She slid into his space like a shadow, knee between his, palm to his chest, hair spilling over him like rain. Heat. Citrus.
“Witch,” he hissed, low. “What is this?”
“Interest,” she breathed in his ear.
His hand closed over her wrist—hot skin, banked heat. “Quiet,” he murmured, a warning with a smile.
“Make me,” she said, smiling back.
A wave shouldered the hull. Another heartbeat. Another.
She bit his shoulder lightly—just a warning. He exhaled through his nose, slow and obscene. Across the room, a hammock groaned; Usopp rolled. Sanji snorted awake, mumbled, “Hands off the chiffon,” and died beautifully back to sleep.
“2 AM,” she whispered, thrilled. “Your payment window is open.”
His fingers tightened in her hair. “Then let’s go.”
“No.”
“No?” He mouthed it—then ground his teeth as she ground into him.
“You can’t be serious. The others—”
“They’re sleeping,” she breathed against his cheek. “Unless you want to wake them up?”
“That’s your game, not mine.”
“What makes you say that?” Her fingers slipped him free. “You’re already so hard.”
He sneered. “As if I don’t already know how tight you’re gonna be.”
“Don’t try to compliment me.”
“Don’t start a fight you can’t win.”
She smiled, wicked and soft. “Ah, the great Roronoa Zoro. Why don’t you put that Haki to use and harden for me?”
She gripped; he hissed. “That’s not how that works.”
“Really?”
A rope creaked. Brook cleared his nonexistent throat and went statue-still.
“Better be quiet, Zoro,” she whispered, rolling her hips. “Chopper’s got those animal ears. And don’t your monster trio—and Usopp—have Observation Haki?”
“I told you, witch,” he growled, fingers biting into her hips. “Don’t test me.”
She sank down in one slow, mean motion. Their sounds collided and vanished as she locked their mouths together.
“See,” she huffed against his lips. “Perfect fit.”
The hammock protested. With a twist, Zoro caught her waist, rolled, and dropped them to the floor mat with a muted thump—the move a man practices without admitting it.
He listened for any rustle from beyond them and smirked against her throat, “Tight as always.”
Luffy detonated a snore. Zoro spoke into her throat.
“And getting tighter… who’s the exhibitionist now?”
Nami grabbed his wrist and planted his palm over her mouth, eyes blazing as she bucked to meet him. The mat slid a fraction; the wall tapped once and went quiet.
“N—Nami, shit!”
“Shh,” she breathed under his hand, laughter in her eyes and heat everywhere else. She clenched down deliberately. His jaw locked; his control didn’t.
He leaned toward her ear. “You’re doing that on purpose.”
She nodded, smug. “I told you…interest.”
“Greedy witch,” he mouthed, settling into short, deep strokes that wouldn’t rock the room. “We do this…and my debt is cleared then.”
Sanji muttered, “custard…” like he lost a duel to dessert. Chopper’s ear flicked.
Her fingers bunched in his haramaki and dragged him closer. She let his hand slip just enough for a whisper. “If that’s what you want…to be free of me.”
He covered her mouth again, thumb skimming the corner like he could rub the defiance out of it. “You asked for this.”
She bit the heel of his hand—hard. His breath broke; he swallowed the sound against her throat.
“Still think I’m the one that wants to be seen?” he rasped, hips grinding in a ruthless, steady rhythm.
Her answer was a muffled, shaky laugh… and another squeeze that nearly ended his argument.
He pinned her wrists above her head, buried to the hilt, chest heaving, sweat prickling with the ship’s hum.
“Still so fucking tight,” he growled, each thrust a period. “Every damn time—like your body’s trying to keep me for itself.”
Nami’s eyes flashed, a moan escaping anyway. “Or maybe you’re just too big for your thick head and your thick—”
He bit her collarbone; she yelped. “Say it.”
Her nails dug into his wrists. “—your thick ego!” Hips snapped up to meet him as she moaned as quietly as she could. “You think you’re the only one making this good?”
He pulled back, thrusts rougher, sharper. “Tell me who else makes you scream like this.”
And she tried with all her might not to cry out any more than she already had. It was irritating to see Zoro still so calm.
She smirked through the sound ripping out of her. “Maybe Sanji could—”
He slammed into her so deep she choked on the name. “Say that again.”
She laughed, breathless, wicked. “I like watching you lose control—”
“Then watch,” he gritted, hooking her leg over his shoulder and pounding at a punishing pace. Wet sounds and ragged breaths tangled together—hers sharp, taunting; his low, unrestrained. “But only you.”
“You’re insufferable,” she gasped, trembling.
“You’re impossible,” he shot back, teeth bared.
“Idiot swordsman!”
“Greedy witch!”
They crashed mouths again, not a kiss so much as a collision—teeth, tongue, pride—until her walls clamped like a vise. Zoro groaned helplessly, forehead to hers. “Shit, Nami—every time—you’re trying to kill me.”
Her smirk stuttered into a whimper. “Then die, you stubborn bastard.”
And he did—quietly, fiercely—groaning her name into her mouth as she dragged him under with her.
Across the room, Usopp mumbled, “Port side… rich vein…” and rolled the other way. Ropes squeaked and blessed them with cover.
“Quiet,” he hissed in her ear. “You want Usopp to wake up?”
Her eyes glinted, wicked. She bit Zoro’s hand again; he jerked, teeth gritting, rhythm stuttering.
“You little—”
She smirked under his palm, low and smug. “What? Afraid the crew’s gonna hear how loud you get?”
His eye burned into hers. He pushed in deep; she arched, nails dragging his chest. Her muffled cry made him smirk.
“That’s rich,” he rasped. “You’re the one clenching like you want the whole damn ship to know.”
From across the dark, Sanji sighed, “Nami-swan…” and turned over.
Nami froze. Zoro’s smirk deepened. “Told you,” he whispered, grinding slowly, cruelly, and deliberately. “You’re too loud.”
Her glare melted into a shiver. “Then shut me up,” she breathed.
He did—hot and punishing—swallowing every sound while the Sunny rocked, the rest of the crew asleep two bunks away.
Two taps to his wrist—let me talk. He eased back, both of them quieter now.
“That was just interest,” she whispered, daring him. “I thought you wanted your debt cleared…”
“Do you?” He caught her knee, hit the angle that ruined her, and felt the fight leave her body in a shiver she couldn’t swallow.
Her head pressed back; her teeth caught her lip; the slightest sound slipped anyway. He took it with his mouth.
“Right there,” she breathed, almost silent.
“Yeah,” he said—truth when it mattered. “Right there.”
The ship creaked. The mat warmed under their knees. Luffy snored through a dream feast. And on the quiet floor of the men’s quarters, they argued with their bodies until both lost on purpose—Nami first, shaking against his hand; Zoro after, forehead in her shoulder, breathing like he’d run the length of the Grand Line.
They stayed close, listening. Nothing but sea and wood and the Sunny holding their secret.
Nami nuzzled his jaw, smug and sweet. “Told you. Perfect fit.”
“Paid,” he muttered, glare already recovering.
She smiled into his palm so only he could hear, “With interest.”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. His hand slipped from Nami’s mouth to her throat—not squeezing, just resting there like a promise—and his eye crinkled in the dark.
They rethreaded the lie of an undisturbed room—mat straight, hammock steady—and slid apart like thieves. A minute later, the Sunny exhaled, and so did they.
Outside, the sea went on pretending it hadn’t seen a thing.
Notes:
Okay, maybe you all can help me. I distinctly remember reading - oh, many moons ago - a ZoNami fic where Zoro and Nami have blatant public sex - like on the mast?! And Zoro knows Sanji is watching and doesn’t stop...and Sanji, like, goes at it in his little private corner. Don’t think he cried as he jerked off, but I feel like he did. Is this...ringing any bells for folks? Cause if you can help me remember, I will 100% say that inspired this exhibitionism bit. I always credit my inspos.
I always like thinking about how kinky I can make these two...and it’s more fun in the OP world cause I have to work a bit harder for it to feel canon. This is also me screaming on top of my lungs so Oda can hear me when I say - “romance on the shipppppppppppppp woooorkkkkssss” but also I am reeling from learning that MHA’s creator has chosen the path of least resistance and gave me Deku with Ochako when my PFP can prove this - BAKUGO IS THE SPICY RIGHT CHOICE.
This feels like IchiRuki all over again...and I don't know, maybe it’s because they’re males and their creations are not romance-driven, but I feel like safe options are so dull. Give me spicy. Give me fight-flirting. Give me tension!!!!! Come on, please. Please, Oda, if you ever read this, consider this...if you based Zoro and Nami off of Vegeta and Bulma, don’t do me dirty. Please.
Okay, you can go back to your regularly scheduled program. HAHA!
Chapter 3: Course Correction (and Corroboration)
Summary:
Ch.3 — Course Correction (and Corroboration)
Zoro broods, Luffy says the captain-thing out loud, and Robin discreetly clears a runway. In the women’s quarters, theory becomes practice; Nami’s bluff meets Zoro’s aim.
Notes:
Explicit; women’s quarters scene with a fake audience bit (Robin’s powers as playful page-turn “presence,” no real watching). Power struggle/“put on a show” talk remains consensual; marking/hickies possible; aftercare implied.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Zoro wandered the Sunny and tried to make sense of last night. Nami had gone back to ignoring him. It irritated him.
“She thinks I like people watching,” he muttered under his breath, fists flexing. “Idiot. As if I want anyone to see her like that. Seeing me like that.”
The words scraped in his throat, sharp with something he couldn’t name.
She’d nearly killed him.
She’d said the debt was clear.
It couldn’t be. Not really.
He remembered when he first asked something of her. He hated that he’d needed it. It felt wrong—relying on her in a way she could weaponize. But he didn’t regret it. Not really.
He only bowed his head that way when he asked Mihawk to train him… to defeat the Warlord eventually. And yet, he was now…wanting to be shackled to that woman again. Because…why?
She said then that 300% interest had only increased. Two years later, it made no difference. Zoro was in her ledger…forever.
He smirked. Nami said I needed to pay her back. Then he frowned. Was last night worth all that much to her?
Morning burned off the mist. The lawn deck was wet, the oranges bright, and the ship creaked like it had a secret.
Luffy was at the rail with a plate, chewing. “Yo. You missed breakfast.”
“I know you eat everything unless Nami or Sanji stops you.”
“Nami wasn’t at breakfast...which distracted Sanji.”
Zoro grunted.
“You’re stomping,” Luffy said. “You only stomp when you’re thinking too hard.”
“Not thinking.”
Luffy swallowed without chewing much. “Sometimes Zoro…when you don’t think, you get into trouble.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“You never thought about where you were going…and then we found Nami.”
He turned to his first mate and grinned. “And she thinks for you.”
“For both of us, idiot.”
“Then go talk to her.” Luffy shrugged. “You’re mad and she’s mad. Just settle it.”
Zoro stared at the horizon. “I thought we did…”
“And? You didn’t want that?”
“I’m…not sure. It feels weird…not owing Nami.”
“Zoro,” Luffy said as he smacked him in the head. “Just like I owe you all for being a part of this crew…you and I…we owe Nami the most. Don’t you think?”
“Why?”
“Because…” he looked out to the sea. “Where would we be without Nami?”
Luffy added, dead simple, “Don’t drift.”
Then he chuckled, “Sunny rocked weird last night.”
He grinned that boyish grin he had since Zoro met him, but it seemed aged now. Two years and a scar that took his heart with him for a moment, yet Luffy could be the same and different all at once. Zoro supposed, as he watched his Captain walk away, yelling for seconds, that everyone else was similar—the same but different.
Zoro blew out a breath. Fine.
He decided then that if she would lie to him like that, he should at least test his theory.
He cut across the main deck. Robin stepped out of the library with a book and a calm smile.
“Robin,” he said, bluntly. “I need the women’s room empty tonight.”
Her brows lifted, amused. “I was going to see Franky anyway.” She closed the book. “I’ll be in the workshop late.”
He nodded. “Thanks, but…don’t let Nami know.”
Robin smiled, devious as ever.
“Try not to wake the ship,” she said, heading down the ladder.
Night came softly. Lanterns low. The Sunny breathed steadily. The workshop thumped once and went quiet. Robin didn’t return—at least, not in person.
Zoro padded down the corridor and stopped at the girls’ door. He listened: only ship noise. He slid it open to the still dimness.
Nami was awake on her futon, her hair loose, and her eyes sharp. The room smelled like citrus and paper. She glanced at Robin’s futon—blanket thrown, a book by the pillow—then back at him fast.
“Zoro—no. We can’t,” she whispered. “Robin’s right there.”
He stepped in, shut the door, and didn’t look at the empty bedding.
“Oh,” he said, “I thought last night-“
“Last night, you cleared your debt. What you wanted for so long.”
“And you got your thrills.”
“Stop lying as if you didn’t want to, too.”
“Then let’s try again,” Zoro said as he moved towards her bed.
“What?” Nami was taken aback at how forward he was.
Usually, she needed to press him, tease him, challenge him. But then, the second he took her flirt as more than that, he would succumb to her. The whipped cream incident was really the first time he had teased her so much, but after that, they returned to normal. Or as normal as they could have…until now.
He leaned over her, hand braced by her hip, voice low.
“Who cares if she catches us?” he said, watching her pupils flare. “Let’s put on a show.”
She went tight—reflex she couldn’t hide—then glared, busted. “You—”
“Thought so.” His mouth curved. “Still think I want an audience?”
Her chin tipped up. “You don’t.”
“Right,” he said. “This is for you.”
Her hand fisted in his haramaki. The ship creaked, generous as ever.
“Quiet,” he murmured, lowering his weight until the world and the door he’d chosen were theirs. Nami moaned instantly at his touch.
His hand covered her mouth before she could yelp. “Quiet,” he repeated, low, dangerous. “Your turn.”
Her eyes widened. Then narrowed. Her smirk bloomed even under Zoro’s palm.
He leaned over her, one knee between her thighs, pinning her wrist against the futon. “You think you can crawl into my bed and get away with it?”
She said something muffled and wicked. Zoro let her mouth go.
“I did get away with it,” she whispered, smug.
He growled, grinding his hips into hers until her breath caught. “Not for long.”
Nami arched up, legs tangling around his waist, teeth flashing in the dim light. “You gonna punish me, swordsman?”
His grin was sharp, feral. “That’s the idea.”
He kissed her hard, swallowing her laugh, forcing her down into the futon as his hand slid beneath her nightclothes. She gasped into his mouth, muffling the sound when his fingers pressed exactly where she needed him.
“Still think you’re in charge?” he murmured, rough and smug.
Her nails dragged down his back. “Always.”
He answered with a slow, relentless thrust of his fingers that had her biting her lip to keep from crying out. “Then prove it,” he growled, watching her struggle not to make a sound.
The futon creaked. A page turned from Robin’s side of the room. A pale hand—five-petaled—bloomed from the tatami, flipped the book, and vanished. Somewhere below, a wrench clinked in the workshop.
Nami writhed, whispering curses into his ear, too breathless to hold them back. “Idiot—ah—bastard—”
“Louder,” he rasped, smirk cutting across his face. “Let Robin hear.”
She slapped a hand over his mouth, glaring through the haze. “Don’t you dare.”
He licked her palm. Slowly.
Her whole body shuddered. “You’re the worst.”
“Then stop me,” he challenged, sliding into her smoothly, punishingly.
Her muffled cry tore through the quiet. Another page turned—another brief bloom, another vanish.
“This is going to cost you,” Nami murmured.
Zoro pulled back to look at her, taking in her wet brown eyes. “Then add me back to your ledger.”
And under the cover of shadows and books, Nami discovered exactly how far Zoro would go when it was his turn to collect interest.
“Why?” She nearly whimpered.
“I owe you,” he said.
She frowned. “Is this a debt you’re paying back…or one you’re incurring?”
“Whichever keeps me in your books longer.”
“That’s…not funny.”
“I’m not laughing. We have an audience, remember?”
He leaned down, mouth at her ear, and said flatly, “But who cares if she catches us? Let’s put on a show.”
Her whole body clenched around him in one involuntary shiver. He felt it, and his grin widened.
“Thought so,” he murmured.
Nami’s eyes flashed, and she shoved at his shoulder. “You—shut up—”
“Why? Afraid you like it too much?” He ground his hips into hers, slow and deliberate, making her gasp. “You love the idea of someone hearing, don’t you?”
“Idiot swordsman,” she hissed, biting his jaw to keep quiet.
“Greedy witch,” he shot back, hand sliding down her thigh, pinning her open.
The futon creaked. Nami’s nails dragged across his chest. She whispered curses; he swallowed them with his mouth.
“Say it,” he growled, thrusting sharply and punishingly. “Say you want them to hear.”
Her smirk was wicked even through her moan. “I want you to hear. I want you to lose control.”
Zoro’s breath stuttered, a ragged groan escaping before he bit it back. His body betrayed him, every muscle shaking with restraint.
Nami laughed low, breathless, triumphant. “See? You’re into it.”
“Not into them watching,” he rasped, forehead pressed to hers. “I’m into shutting you up.”
And then he kissed her, hot and harrowing, like a man determined to prove her wrong even as his body proved her right.
The Sunny rocked steadily beneath them, the ship their only witness, as they waged their private war between silence and lies.
Notes:
This really started with something not so heavy—just some payback. But when I think of these two...in this canon-coded world - I feel like they wouldn’t play too much with each other, of this idea they float around. Of being together. Then again, it’s just my ship brain firing away.
Chapter 4: Morning Balance (and Other Settlements)
Summary:
After, they sleep where the Sunny can keep their breaths, and the daylight version of them agrees on the one rule that matters: don’t drift. No promises yet—just a standing account and a shared destination.
Notes:
Soft aftermath + honest rail-talk; light touching and domestic intimacy; no heavy angst. Explicit references to future goals (Pirate King / Greatest Swordsman / Map the World); themes of “open ledger” commitment without romance-promise language.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
They lay in Nami’s bed. The Sunny’s quiet breathing seemed to carry theirs, like the ship had stolen their breath and was keeping it for them. Clothes were strewn where they’d landed—careless, as if her recklessness had finally rubbed off on him. Nami settled against the warm plane of his chest and the scar she never saw getting created but knew far too well. She let the steady rhythm of his heartbeat calm her.
“Robin was never here, was she?”
“Just wanted to test my theory.”
“Which was?” she said, looking up at him. His idle fingers played with her hair while he stared at the ceiling, as if reading a map there only he could see.
“If it was me…or the thrill you preferred to chase.”
He looked down then. Moonlight caught the line of his newer scar, one he still had not told Nami the secret behind; Nami’s fingertip brushed his cheek, then that newer scar he still hadn’t explained like a habit she hadn’t admitted yet.
“So which answer do you prefer?”
He swallowed. “I told you…whatever keeps me in your books longer.”
They stayed like that a moment longer, quiet as contraband. Naked beside each other felt like too much honesty to stack words on, for now. They let the night hold it. The ship rocked, the lamp guttered once, and they fell asleep to the sound of their breaths and the sea under the hull.
Zoro woke before her, as he usually did. He eased out from under her without jostling, gathered what they’d scattered, set her bracelet back on her wrist, kissing her fingertips softly, and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. He tidied the room to the lie it wore in daylight—the book closed, the futon neat—and paused at the door. A faint, five-petaled hand bloomed for half a second from the threshold, flipped a page on Robin’s makeshift figure—pillows under a sheet—and vanished. He huffed a sound that wasn’t quite a laugh and headed for the crow’s nest. The weights could wait for the lawn deck.
The day climbed aboard in pieces: swab water, coffee, the thud of weights from the lawn deck, the long, easy stretch of a calm swell. The Sunny moved through it like she’d been born to this weather.
After lunch, they ended up at the rail, midship, where the breeze kept secrets. The New World sky was a clean blue lie; the swell was lazy; the Sunny purred like something satisfied. Luffy’s laugh bounced once from the galley and vanished.
Nami put her elbows on the rail and didn’t look at him. “You done pretending you didn’t enjoy yourself?”
Zoro stared at the horizon. “You done pretending you don’t like an audience?”
“Robin wasn’t watching.”
“Tch.” He huffed. “She turned pages.”
“That was for me,” Nami said, glancing up at him, mouth tugging. “So you’d say it.”
“Say what?”
“That you don’t like anyone seeing me like that,” she said lightly, as if it were weather. “Or you.”
He didn’t answer because saying it twice felt like surrender. Instead, he said, “You told me last night would cost me.”
She watched a gull scissor the wind. “You paid what you owed before. And the interest.”
“That’s all?”
Her fingers drummed once on the rail, a quick, private rhythm that matched his pulse too well. “The new debt will be charged with a new interest rate,” she said.
“Figures.”
Silence, except for the sea and the wood. The kind that didn’t strain.
He rolled his shoulder. “I’m not into…crowds.”
“I know.”
“I’m not into losing control in front of them.”
“I know that, too.”
He looked down at her finally. “But I’m not…not into this.”
Her mouth curved. “I know.”
“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “You charge too much. On purpose.”
“It keeps you close,” she said, same breezy tone, like admitting nothing at all.
He let out a short breath that might have been a laugh. “Thought so.”
Nami pushed a curl behind her ear, eyes back on the horizon. “We’re not making promises.”
“No.” His hand tapped the rail once. “We don’t lie.”
“Right.” She inhaled, slowly. “So here’s what I’ll say. You don’t drift. Not from Luffy.” A beat. “Not from me.”
“Wasn’t planning to.”
“And after—” She stopped, recharted. “When things aren’t like this.”
“When he’s Pirate King,” he supplied, accurate and straightforward.
“Mm.” She toyed with her bracelet. “You’ll settle the balance then.”
His eye narrowed, amused. “Settle? With what? The One Piece? That’s the only way I’ll get out of my debt to you.”
She laughed. “Then I suppose you and your captain have a shared goal.”
“It is all ours…isn’t it? His dream is to be king of the pirates. Mine to be-“
“The greatest swordsman. I know.”
“And you’ll map the world.”
“My dream seems daunting…”
“Only if we stop sailing.”
“And what if…one day…I want to stop?”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I can be the greatest swordsman on sea or land. Doesn’t make a difference to me.”
“And Luffy? And the others?”
He turned to her then, with a soft smile. “You’re going to get us to his dream. We really can’t do it without you. Nami.”
“So then,” she pursed her lips. “I get you there and then-”
“Then I pay back my debt.”
“Or we keep it open,” she said, lips quirking. “Long-term account.”
They let the seas move their words for them, brushing their arms, fingers barely touching but reaching regardless.
“Greedy witch.”
“Idiot swordsman.”
They stood there with the sea talking for them, which was easier. A gull called. The ropes ticked. He brushed her knuckles with two fingers—light, nothing—and she didn’t move away. The ledger stayed open, just the way they liked it.
Notes:
I really thought about how I wanted to do this. Also, this title was the hardest? Haha. I did something similar with Repetition. Until I continue my Behind the Scenes stuff or ZoNami Outfit Challenge, I will imagine these conversations until canon tells me otherwise... or you all, haha. I hope you enjoyed!
Eirist on Chapter 4 Sun 07 Sep 2025 03:43AM UTC
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shipfiend on Chapter 4 Sun 07 Sep 2025 04:07AM UTC
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