𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 🦚 𝙶𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝙿𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔

[romancedawn]

@3swords

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▶ AUDIO

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⚠️ cw: blanket nsfw warning 🔞; anything on the kink list may make an appearance.

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🍋‍🟩🍊🍋 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢 & 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢

[romancedawn]

"Sounds like a bit of fun, doesn't it?"

"Hunting as a group? Could be a good way to pass the time in this gilded cage."

Zoro silently listens to his crewmates discuss the Omegadome. He feels a prickle of unease, as he does with anything the resort dreams up and throws them into. But there's an appeal to the thought of doing something together, in perhaps experiencing a semblance of their old adventures.

"Alright," he grunts, nodding his agreement. If anything goes wrong, he's sure that the three of them can handle it together.

They sign the waivers, and diamonds are stamped onto the back of their hands.

As they step through the conservatory doors, the lush greenery and pastel blooms are immediately apparent. But before Zoro can take it all in, a message flashes on the watch affixed to his wrist. His eyes scan the words, his brow furrowing with each line. He glances at Nami and Sanji, trying to discern the looks on their faces. "High contact sex game," he mutters, his voice low. Of course. Is anything here not some sort of sex game? He reads further, the last line making him go still as he realizes the implication.

Happy Hunting.

He looks over at Nami. Even standing a few feet away, her scent is intoxicating, and not in the way it usually is. Without understanding exactly how, he immediately knows what it means: in this arena, she's the prey.

Rage flares within him, hot and immediate. But it mixes with something that feels strangely like arousal, and he realizes whatever alterations the watch has warned them about won't necessarily take the whole thirty minutes to set in.

He steps closer to their navigator, placing a hand on the small of her back as his protective and possessive instincts kick in. "Listen," he says, his voice rough, addressing both Nami and Sanji. "We stick together." His gaze locks with Sanji's, searching the cook's eyes to see if they've come to the same conclusion. They might not see eye to eye on a lot of things, but he knows they agree where Nami's concerned.

Without another word, Zoro scans their surroundings, spotting the small cabins nestled amongst the foliage. The vibrant beauty of the conservatory now feels menacing, the sweet scent of the cherry blossoms tinged with a predatory air. "Should we pick a base?" he asks, though the way he begins striding towards the nearest one doesn't leave too much room for argument. He tries the door and finds it unlocked. He pushes it open, revealing a simple but comfortable interior.

[chiffonades]

When they manage to convince Zoro to join them in the Omegadome, it doesn't occur to Sanji that Zoro might not fully understand what “hunting” probably means in this context. Anything to do with the Diamond Suit usually boils down to lust and sex, after all, and even still, if they're going to choose a game, this one just seems preferable over risking whatever the other suits have planned. Needing sex is easy compared to what the other suits can do, in Sanji's opinion.

It's not until after they've had their hands stamped and entered into the lush. dense greenery of the conservatory that it becomes apparent that the game isn't quite what their crewmate is expecting. Sanji frowns thoughtfully, glancing over at Zoro, then at Nami, his hand already rifling through his pockets for a cigarette and his lighter, ready to open his mouth and make a comment that's only a little teasing, but it’s too late for that.

All it takes is that one breath. Sanji breathes and it leaves his head spinning, leaves him momentarily reeling at how damn good Nami smells. He wants to groan as it seeps into him, somehow sliding under his skin and leaving him shuddering. It's both just like how she normally smells– like orange blossoms and fresh paper and a hint of rum– and not, a hundred times more intense and filled with a spice that appeals to some primal, unnamed part of him that has yet to finish fully forming.

He blinks– blinks and shivers– as the other part hits him. If she smells like that, there's no way other people won't be after her, and won't want her all to themselves. And while he lacks that feeling of rage that Zoro's experiencing, that selfish, possessive part of him that so rarely comes out screams at him to keep her safe.

Safe and his. No, he realizes, glancing over at Zoro as his handle settles on Nami's back, not his. Theirs.

His head dips forward in a decisive nod as he meets Zoro's gaze, eyes filled with concern and dedication. “Yeah,” he voices his agreement, his arm wrapping tight around Nami's shoulders as he glares at the surroundings, just in case anyone happens to be lurking nearby. “Good idea. We don't let anyone near us, yeah? Keep each other safe.” The logical part of Sanji's brain could argue that none of them are in any real danger– and it would be right– but the protective, possessive part urges him to stop anyone who might try to take her away from them.

Even with Nami's scent filling his head– fuck, she smells so damn good– he manages to keep a sharp eye out, nodding again when Zoro asks about a base. Not that the swordsman cares what he thinks, and while the blase way he charges forward without waiting for an answer would irritate him, it helps that he's in agreement, that most of his attention is divided between stealing glances at Nami and looking for even a single leaf out of place.

As soon as they're inside the cabin, Sanji reluctantly lets go of Nami– though not before squeezing her shoulders and brushing a kiss against her temple, murmuring a breathless compliment about how good she smells– to actually lock the door and then look for the biggest, heaviest piece of furniture he can find. There's a chest of drawers from a nearby bedroom that looks like it'll do the trick. “Hey,” he calls over to Zoro, bending to grab one side. “Get in here and gimme a hand? We can block the door with these.”

[cartographie]

At first, sticking together just made sense. Nami's far too familiar with the often strange lengths the House will go to in order to get what it wants from its prisoners, and whatever happens, she'd rather have Sanji and Zoro with her to help her get through (or, if things got really dangerous, to use as human shields). They might be forming a fairly odd dynamic, but whatever it is, they’re crew above all things, and so she can be sure of them.

The ink on that diamond stamp barely has time to dry before Nami can feel the scope of her cognizance start to sharpen, rendering her achingly aware of the brush of fabric from the clothes she’s wearing against her skin, and the hunger that's begun to pool low in her core, the intensity slowly building with every step she takes. It's the kind of need that's both familiar and not. The intensity of it, far beyond what she knows from wanting either of them in the way she always does. It’s a feeling that pulls focus, leaving her unguarded enough to shiver at the hand Zoro settles on the small of her back. While she wants to pay attention to what they’re saying, Nami finds herself overwhelmed after Sanji’s arm snakes around her shoulders, and she ends up caught between their bodies every word sounds like it’s coming from a distance, her consciousness too wrapped up in the hot need budding through it to focus on details.

Except, it seems, for them. Every detail about Sanji and Zoro suddenly becomes very easy to notice. Their scents combine, filling her head with a haze that’s enriched with the smell of earth, sea, spice, and tobacco. It’s familiar and yet – something is different. A hundred and one sordid mental images etch their way into her mind and become more vivid with every step she takes after she musters out a breathy sound of agreement and allows herself to be ushered towards the cabin Zoro’s staked out for them.

Whatever they want, she’ll do, whatever they need, she’ll give them, because they’re everything to her, together and separately. The deep, deliciously kissable bow of Sanji’s upper lip, and the dusting of freckles that lightly dot the otherwise elegant planes of Zoro’s cheekbones, their strength, their beauty, and she–

She is making this much too easy.

Finally, something sharper than lust cuts through the heady haze of Nami’s thoughts just as Sanji calls Zoro over to help him barricade the door.

And they’re right to do it, she knows. She belongs to them, her cunt aches to be filled with their spend, they are her mates, and she will gladly drive herself past her limits to be left dripping and breathless making sure both are aware of that, but–

They have to earn it.

There’s an illicit thrill that quickens her already steadily pounding heart when she snaps to a decision and slips out the door while their backs are turned and their minds too preoccupied with protecting her to notice. Flushed and soaked to the point her wet clings to the insides of her thighs, Nami glances around the forested area and takes off at a swift run, the drag of her dress against her skin, maddening to the point that she sheds it without thinking, leaving it awash with her scent and hanging from a branch. She wants them to catch her, every cell in her body seems to be screaming for it, for them to find her, claim her and fill her until she’s spent and trembling, basking smugly in how thoroughly she’s marked them with her scent.

While she doesn’t exactly want to make herself hard to find – impossible, considering the way her bra joins her dress in being discarded and left in her wake like a sordid breadcrumb trail – the idea of them seeking, and claiming her leaves her aching to the point where she almost trips over her feet, when a pang of desire makes her squirm mid-step as the desire to squeeze her thighs together for a fleeting touch of pressure becomes too strong to deny.

cw: omegaverse

[romancedawn]

Theirs. It's still a new concept for him. Upon his arrival to the Golden Peacock, it had been mindblowing to find implicit permission to see Luffy and Nami in a different light. From the beginning, they were more than just his crewmates; they're the first people he's felt connected with since he was a child. And for as cold and tough as Roronoa Zoro seems, the truth is he'd been lonely. Not in the sharp, painful, all-encompassing way, but rather it had been a dull, ever present ache, and he'd grown so accustomed to it that he hadn't noticed until it was finally gone. Because he'd found a home with his people.

Sanji had come after that. He didn't have the chance to get to know Sanji the way the rest of the crew did, on account of drifting between life and death following his bout with Mihawk. But he knows Sanji is formidable, and dependable, and Sanji cares the same way he does about Luffy and Nami. They've talked about it, after all, in those pods from the month before. They've grown closer in the last few weeks since, even working through some of their worries together about Luffy's sudden disappearance. While Zoro isn't the type to verbally acknowledge it right away, he's felt a shift in his own perception of the other man. It's bolstered by the way Sanji cooks for them, which he recognizes as an act of service borne of genuine care. To this day the only time he eats anything on the resort is when he's seen the food served directly from Sanji's hands.

So the possessiveness that makes him glare at every man he's seen so much as say hello to Nami around the resort has abated when it comes to Sanji. He might fight the cook for her hand once they finally find a way home, but for now, here, she's theirs.

Even the animal now roaring inside him agrees to it, albeit a little begrudgingly. It recognizes that fighting alongside Sanji is better than fighting against him. And so Zoro nods curtly at Sanji's suggestion, already bending to take the other side of the heavy chest of drawers.

Then a flicker of movement catches Zoro's eye—a flash of tangerine bolting out of the door, away from safety and into the vast, open expanse of the dome, where any other knothead alpha might try and stake their claim on her.

And why wouldn't they? Nami is everything he's ever wanted in a mate, and the profound scent trail she leaves behind is advertising that to everybody. So while Zoro perfectly understands why other alphas might try, he's also fully prepared to rip their heads off for it. Literally. No one else will touch her. The thought alone sends a violent tremor through him. He can practically taste the blood of anyone who tries.

Without a word to Sanji, Zoro bursts out of the cabin in pursuit of their navigator. He expects the other man to be right behind him, so there's no need to waste time with words. They're partners in this hunt.

He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with her scent, and starts to move, his movements swift and silent, like a predator stalking its prey. And as fast as Nami is, he's faster, so he never actually loses sight of her. The beast inside him is making its demands, but Zoro has a lifetime of training to master his urges. His alpha doesn't quite take over, not even as he watches Nami discard her clothes and he snatches them up with a growl shortly after. They're not leaving those laying around like a calling card for the randos surely filling the dome.

"Nami," he calls out, voice dangerous with a warning to be careful when he sees her nearly trip over nothing. The carelessness infuriates him. He despairs at even the remote possibility of her getting hurt. He just wants her safe, and he just wants her—and oh, perhaps he doesn't have quite as much control over these new instincts as he thinks.

Because there's no denying his cock is hard. He's grown larger than he ever has before, throbbing painfully in these form-fitting pants that Nami picked out for him earlier. And he knows that it's because of her, because of the slick between her legs that's calling to him like a siren song, demanding that he mark her as his without further delay. He approaches her now, standing atop a bed of cherry blossom petals, dropping her clothes to the ground as he lifts her up like she weighs nothing. Her legs drape over his shoulders so he can bury his face against her cunt. The fabric of her panties are so soaked that they hardly count as present, but he rips them off anyway, growling possessively as the taste of her delights him.

Normally he can go like this forever, wrecking her languidly with his mouth and his fingers, teasing out orgasm after orgasm until she finally demands to have him inside her.

This time he feasts for only a few seconds before he's bringing her back down, freeing his cock as he holds her up against the trunk of the cherry blossom tree. His pupils are blown out as they lock eyes, and he sheathes all the way inside her in a single thrust.

The pleasure is maddening. "You're so fucking wet," he marvels out loud, and it would sound like an accusation if it wasn't paired with a loud, growling moan. His usual initial gentleness is gone; each punishing thrust of his hips seeks to make her understand who she belongs to, and he mouths over one of her breasts before letting his teeth sink into her tender flesh, leaving his mark.

[chiffonades]

A look of gratitude– and shared understanding– flashes across Sanji's face twice in short succession. It happens first at the curt dip of Zoro's proud head, the unspoken seal that's placed on their pact. Nami's scent is what fills his head– it makes his blood sing an ancient, primal song that nearly leaves him woozy– but the sharp scent of a man that carves a path through life with blade in hand, a man who could be his rival in this, drifts through the air, too.

It doesn't bother Sanji.

There's a simple truth that even now, even with something less civilized slowly being unearthed, with thought gradually losing way to instinct, he understands. Golden Peacock has been his home for months, now, for far longer than he ever sailed on the Merry. And while the Merry is still home, is what they all yearn for when they aren't drowning in pleasure, there are lessons he's learned here. That the heart is capable of loving more than one person– of wanting them, needing them, craving them– is a lesson he's learned first hand. And while every other alpha in this godforsaken dome might be a rival, Zoro's crew. He's one of them. He's Sanji's partner in keeping Nami safe and taken care of and more than that, there's plenty of room in Nami's heart for both of them. There's no need for them fight.

They can both be her mate. He doesn't think she'd have it any other way.

Which is where the second look of gratitude– and understanding– comes from, mixed with suddenly panicked alarm. That silent, sudden flash of her gorgeous hair as she bolts from their base– no, their den, a part of him screams– without a word. The realization crashes into him the moment it does Zoro as their gazes connect in the briefest of instants. That every single alpha for miles around will scent her– and want her and try to knot her, fuck her, breed her– is self-evident. How could anyone pass up the opportunity to claim a mate as perfect as Nami?

He grunts a second later as Zoro drops his end of the piece of furniture and it shifts, leaving Sanji as the only one holding it up. But not for long. Barely a heartbeat passes before he's dropped it himself, only slowed a little by the delay, but enough that Zoro has a lead on him.

As he darts out the cabin, he views himself as the hunter. That's what they're meant to be– to do– in this game. It's such a human way of looking at things. His body might prickle with possessiveness– the desire to claim her is strong, it feels like he's choking on it– but he has every intention of hauling them both back into the den where it's safe. It's the smart thing to do. They can ride the rest of the game out together.

Easy. Simple. Logical.

But as strong, well-trained legs pump in a mad dash to catch them both, his heart races and his blood boils as the too heady scent of their mate– their Nami– fills his nose, his lungs, his head. Sanji is a man of passion, of emotion, of flame and heat and warmth and god, fuck, somewhere between when Zoro calls out for her and he sees him catch her, the very truth of it is laid bare: he needs her, needs her safe, needs her in his arms, needs her soaked cunt wrapped tight around his cock as he fucks her full of his cum.

And while Sanji tracks by scent, he's not blind. He can see the way she sheds her clothes– and the careful way Zoro scoops them up off the forest floor– a silent invitation for them to claim her. She isn't far away, now, and the words bubble up out of his chest in a voice that's slurred and husky, practically a groan as he shudders at how deeply his cock aches for her as it strains obscenely against the front of his dress slacks.

"Nami, wait for us–!"

A moment later, Zoro reaches her first. Even knowing that she's theirs– that Zoro isn't a threat– that still rankles, still makes him growl quietly as he tastes her, then slides his cock inside her before Sanji's caught up with them. His head is spinning at how good she smells– at how he needs her so badly now, it practically hurts– and despite Zoro pinning her back against a cherry blossom tree, Sanji refuses to let that deter him, already pushing his slacks down his hips, tearing his button up shift off, anything and everything so that when he slides between Nami and the tree, he's as naked as she is, her back pressed flush against his chest, his cock– large and swollen and flushed and leaking– rubbing shamelessly against the soft, inviting curve of her ass.

"Treat our mate more gently, idiot," he mutters at Zoro, only mildly annoyed. There's no time for annoyance, not when Sanji's busy burying his face in the curve of Nami's neck, dropping greedy, suckling kisses all along it as her warm, inviting scent runs right through him, a groan vibrating against her skin as his cock throbs and leaks more thick, hot precum, the rocking of his hips shamelessly smearing it all over her ass without a moment's hesitation. His body is on fire, thrumming with a need that while he understands– he's a Diamond, he's experienced things like this before– he still can't quite handle. That bone-deep need to fuck that's so strong, so instinctual, is incapable of being ignored. And with it comes other needs, other wants, things that his body requires.

Despite his admonishment, he can't help but leave a mark of his own, teeth biting it into side of her neck, tongue lavishing with gentle strokes after.

And then his hand shoots up, cupping Nami's cheek and gently turning it so his mouth can claim hers in a kiss that's all fierce, greedy hunger. "Nami," he murmurs her name almost dreamily, staring into her eyes with ones that are hazy and glazed over, stealing another fierce kiss as he snakes a hand between her legs and gently rubs her clit in slow, meandering circles. "Your ours, yeah? Our Nami, our mate, ours."

[cartographie]

If the clamorous way this heat makes demands on her body doesn’t get her, how overwhelming it is to have them both on her trail, breathing her scent in as she does theirs the closer they come, will. Even without touching either of them, she can feel the heat rising off their bodies, her senses so fixed on Sanji and Zoro both that if she could focus on anything other than the persistent, throbbing ache between her legs,she might be able to hear their heartbeats.

They call and their voices land like tangible caresses on her skin; like possessive, protective invisible fingers trailing up her spine, a sensation vivid enough to make her nipples pebble against the open air and for her steps to falter once more, the mounting desperation to be filled and bred seeming to hinder her escape. It’s all the opening that Zoro needs to collect her in his grasp and lift her off the ground, shocking a loud gasp out of her that warms into a moan as his mouth works over the soaked folds of her cunt, the sheer fabric of her panties feeling almost invisible for how wet she’s left them.

Every place her body touches his lights up, the bliss of it double-edged, tinged with the lingering absence of Sanji, hot longing underpinning the waves of pleasure that shoot through her when Zoro mouths over her cunt, her body maddeningly sensitive from the heat, and the nearness of her mates. It’s that primal urgency that pushes aside Nami’s inclination towards trying to keep her responses as subdued as she can. A raggedly loud, low-pitched moan vibrates through her and tumbles past parted lips as her fingers card through Zoro’s hair, pulling on it before he’s drawing her off his shoulders.

The tree gives a shake in its roots as the weight of three bodies collide with the trunk, sending a fresh cascade of soft pink fluttering petals down from the branches to further blanket the forest floor below. Another loud whimper steals past Nami’s lips as her back connects with Sanji’s front, and she’s caught in a cascade of bliss, finally feeling the cook’s skin against hers, the final piece of the puzzle clicking into place. Desperate to keep it all, to keep them, Nami’s arm slides tight around Zoro’s shoulders, holding him against her as she reaches back with her free hand to run her fingers over the nape of Sanji’s neck before letting them get lost in his hair, touching them like she’s fully aware that she’s got everything that could ever matter in the universe right there, and she doesn’t care if they know how profoundly they move her.

Thick droplets of wet catch and cling to the blades of grass below her body as Zoro snaps his hips forward to fill her, making the walls of her cunt clutch tight around him as though she were in the throes of an orgasm, her body so desperate to be filled. He fucks into her ruthlessly, and her body rocks forward in turn before tipping her hips backward, using the momentum of his primal, driving rhythm to grind her ass against’s Sanji’s cock.

“I’m yours,” she pants in agreement, as she turns her shoulders and tilts her head up to catch Sanji in a hungrily messy kiss. “I need you both, Zoro, Sanji–” Their names are barely more than whimpers, her nails digging into Zoro’s shoulder as her thighs press tight around his hips, while the hand in Sanji’s hair slips free to run down the side of his body, grabbing at his hip as she moves between their bodies, her slick wetting up Sanji’s cock as it drizzles past her folds with each of Zoro’s thrusts. The cook’s finger connects with her clit, and he’s rewarded with yet another feral moan, as the slick heat of her walls flutters tighter around Zoro’s cock. Her head turns further, teeth briefly raking against the side of Sanji’s throat before the jolts of pleasure sparking through her make her shudder and turn to bite Zoro’s shoulder as well, her teeth digging into flesh as she marks him up, relishing in the knowledge that she’ll get the chance to leave them both marked as hers before this is over.

“Come inside me,” she murmurs against Zoro’s skin. “I need it, I need you both to leave me full, I need you to mark me and make me yours.” As she details her list of babbled demands, her ass grinds firmly against Sanji’s cock, practically squirming against him as Zoro’s enlarged length continues to spread the walls of her cunt with every thrust, dragging against them, coating his cock in her wet. Her orgasm builds quickly, intense in a way that isn’t unfamiliar, but usually takes her a few climaxes to achieve. “Sanji,” Nami whimpers, desperately trying to rock against his fingers, fuck herself on Zoro’s cock, and grind back against Sanji’s at the same time. “Zoro–” The swordsman’s name is exhaled from some deep place in her chest, thickened up by the bodily tremble that has her juddering as she works to keep moving between them. Nami’s eyes flutter closed, her breath catching sharply as she goes tense, her pulse pounding as a gush of slick paints Zoro’s skin, clinging to his lower abdomen in thick droplets.

[romancedawn]

Zoro feels the tremors start deep within Nami's body, tightening around him as she works between them. Her nails digging into his shoulder are a welcome pressure that mirrors the intensity building inside him. Her words, raw and breathless, wash over him – I'm yours... I need you both... make me yours. The alpha in him swells with possessive triumph, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He thrusts harder, deeper, wanting to bury himself completely within her heat, to leave no doubt of his claim even as he feels Sanji grinding against her back, claiming her in his own way. The dual sensation is maddening, a symphony of pleasure and instinct.

Her slick coats his cock, thick and hot, and he can't help the long, drawn out moan that escapes when she tightens helplessly around him. He watches Nami's eyes flutter closed, hears her ragged gasps as her orgasm builds, and he thinks to himself that she must be the most beautiful person to ever exist.

The bite she gives his shoulder sends a jolt of exquisite pain and possessiveness through him. He thrusts again, the world narrowing to the feel of her body clenching around his, the sound of her voice, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. This isn't just mating; it's claiming, it's belonging, it's everything the alpha in him craves.

When she finally cries out their names, shuddering between them, the impending release he feels is staggering. His own body tenses, his knot growing until, with a final, deep thrust, it swells and seats firmly inside her. A groan is ripped from his throat, a guttural sound of satisfaction and completion.

[chiffonades]

There is nothing but triumph– and a spark of electric pleasure so sweet, he nearly moans with delight– as Sanji feels Nami's teeth graze his neck, a promise of a mark later that he'll treasure all the more because it's hers. There's not a speck of him that isn't consumed his need of her, by how much he craves her right down to his bones, that doesn't thrill with every admission, demand, and plea that escapes Nami's mouth. The alpha in him practically purrs with satisfaction, his head bowed as his teeth dig into her neck again and again, returning the favor as his hand slides under her, fingers roughly squeezing and fondling her ass even as the thickened length of his cock, now coated in her slick, grinds with relentless vigor against it.

He doesn't even need to look over her shoulder to know the pleasure Zoro must be feeling, fucking into her like he is, because he can feel every ruthless thrust as Nami's body bucks backward, grinding that much harder against him. More than that, he can scent it, too, can smell the ecstasy pouring off them both, the raw, primal pleasure that comes from an alpha claiming his mate.

Maybe that should bother him, but it doesn't. His name might have been a soft whimper, but to him, it's the most beautiful sound there is. Ours, he thinks, and growls with satisfaction, hips jerking harder as he works himself into a frenzy, finger rubbing the swollen nub of her clit in faster, tighter circles as she comes undone between them.

“Ours. Gonna make you feel so good, lovely, leave you so full, make you ours, always ours, only ours,” Sanji groans, shuddering as Zoro's rhythm changes, as the way her body judders in the throes of pleasure suddenly shifts. He grins as he realizes what's happening, eyes darting up to catch the look on Zoro's face the moment his knot slips home, to see the bliss painted there. His mouth dots messy kisses along her jaw and the side of her face, hand giving her shapely ass another rough squeeze, voice breathless as he kisses the shell of her ear. “Our perfect mate. Fuck, Nami, you're pefect.”

[cartographie]

Just like the strength of her desire, the pleasure that catapults through her body as Zoro's spend fills the clutching confines of her cunt feels ten times more potent. The scent of her mates threatens to overwhelm her, much like the heat that governs every roll of her hips as she's deliciously pinned and filled between Sanji and Zoro's body, unwilling and seemingly unable to stop herself from seeking out more. The base of Zoro's cock swells as he thrusts fully into her, stretching her walls so suddenly, and so thoroughly, she's got to press her lips together to keep the soft, pleasured scream that threatens lost in her throat. Shuddering and wrapped taut around the thicked up root of Zoro's cock, and filled so completely only a few thick drops of her slick can escape to wet up Sanji's length as he ruts against her from behind, his finger on her clit keeping everything sensation intense, she can't stop herself from trembling against his chest.

"You're both mine, I've never been so happy," she babbles, answering Sanji's warm words with wildly unguarded ones of her own because there's no way she can stop herself from being so completely open, saying things that would be true outside the dome and within. The hand on Zoro's hip grips tight, her body still tight and shuddering around his cock as it stays swollen inside her, keeping her filled in a way that threatens to make her come undone all over again, her hips still rocking slightly against him. "You're both going to get me so full of your cum," she mumbles against the swordsman's skin, biting his shoulder again before she twists at the waist, turning herself enough to be able to kiss Sanji just as needily.

"You're perfect," Nami repeats, the arm around Zoro's shoulders tightening almost possessively as she whispers those words against Sanji's mouth. "You're both so, so fucking perfect."