There's no way she's going to get through this if she lets every little thing throw her off, and the hustler in her knows that very well. Part of gambling was confidence, and once the annoying little charged jolt that passes through her when his lips press against her skin subsides, Nami resolves to keep it together.
It's a flawless plan until that pair of dice settle and seal her fate, until he responds by going with it easily, shedding his jacket and getting out of his shirt like this is the most normal thing in the world.
"Somebody's eager." Nami is droll as ever when she speaks, it's almost like her mouth hasn't gone inexplicably dry, choosing to poke fun at him rather than let this get a rise out of her. Zoro's very unhelpful suggestion does her more favors than he'll ever know. The way it makes her roll her eyes is almost grounding. So typical of the banter that passes between them that its normalcy is fortifying in the face of–
Well.
Her eyes sweep over his face, the grin lurking in the corners of her mouth drawing an exasperated sigh out of Nami, who moves forward and bridges the space between them, her hand smooth with callouses from a life of adjusting the sails when it settles on his shoulder. Using that hand to brace herself as she draws closer, Nami ducks her head until her lips brush against the skin below his collarbone, before her mouth travels lower (purely to ensure it's his chest and thus counts) and her teeth press sharply into his skin, digging in hard enough to leave a mark before she withdraws.
Caught between the way his skin has left her lips slightly salty, and the next round of dice's results, she manages a shake of her head and a shrug, that veneer of deadpan annoyance firmly in place.
"No kneeling in front of me?" Not the smartest thing to say while Nami settles on her seat, but she brushes the remark aside and eases the hem of her already short skirt up a little higher.
Newly exposed thighs part as she shifts towards him, before, with a droll smirk and shrewdly narrowed eyes, she pauses. "Unless you expect me to start taking my clothes off first, too." She doesn't think so, but, giving him shit is vital to the sarcastic facade.
no subject
It's a flawless plan until that pair of dice settle and seal her fate, until he responds by going with it easily, shedding his jacket and getting out of his shirt like this is the most normal thing in the world.
"Somebody's eager." Nami is droll as ever when she speaks, it's almost like her mouth hasn't gone inexplicably dry, choosing to poke fun at him rather than let this get a rise out of her. Zoro's very unhelpful suggestion does her more favors than he'll ever know. The way it makes her roll her eyes is almost grounding. So typical of the banter that passes between them that its normalcy is fortifying in the face of–
Well.
Her eyes sweep over his face, the grin lurking in the corners of her mouth drawing an exasperated sigh out of Nami, who moves forward and bridges the space between them, her hand smooth with callouses from a life of adjusting the sails when it settles on his shoulder. Using that hand to brace herself as she draws closer, Nami ducks her head until her lips brush against the skin below his collarbone, before her mouth travels lower (purely to ensure it's his chest and thus counts) and her teeth press sharply into his skin, digging in hard enough to leave a mark before she withdraws.
Caught between the way his skin has left her lips slightly salty, and the next round of dice's results, she manages a shake of her head and a shrug, that veneer of deadpan annoyance firmly in place.
"No kneeling in front of me?" Not the smartest thing to say while Nami settles on her seat, but she brushes the remark aside and eases the hem of her already short skirt up a little higher.
Newly exposed thighs part as she shifts towards him, before, with a droll smirk and shrewdly narrowed eyes, she pauses. "Unless you expect me to start taking my clothes off first, too." She doesn't think so, but, giving him shit is vital to the sarcastic facade.