Time has passed differently for all of them, but for Nami, this is her second birthday since her life truly became hers again, and the occasion feels just as precious as it did last year. This time, things are different; the loneliness she’d felt the first time is a thing long in the past, and while she was and still is thankful for the fact that this new life lived on her terms came with friends, waking up between Zoro and Sanji brings a different kind of happiness and contentment Nami is sure she’d never find anywhere else with anybody else. They wake like this often enough that she can doze through the way Sanji shifts, the tickling run of his fingertips traveling down the line of her body reading as a passing, distant softness to her sleeping mind. Even when those fingers find the still flushed and slick folds of her cunt, tracing over them before parting them to catch sight of the mess of wet and cum, Nami’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t quite begin to wake.

Lips brush her skin, and were she awake, even with her eyes closed, she would be able to tell who it is that’s touching her. Sanji and Zoro are familiar to her in a way that runs deeper and feels more complete than any connection that came before them—which would explain the wooden box tucked under the bed and the two elegantly appointed wedding bands waiting inside, one for each of them—but that’s a story for another moment in time. This moment is reserved for the pleasure that paints her sleeping world in rosy watercolor hues.

A low, breathy murmur tumbles past parted lips as lips pepper her skin in kisses before the hot wet of Zoro’s mouth encases her nipple, making her shiver and shift, her head turning to nuzzle against Sanji’s neck, breathing in the scent of him and stifling the sharp, pleasured moan the first brush of Zoro’s tongue against the still swollen, well-teased bud of her clit pulls from her. Her already parted legs rearrange themselves slightly, adjusting how she lies enough to relish the familiar brush of Zoro’s cheek against her inner thigh. Her lips part to stamp heated, open kisses down Sanji’s neck as the fingers of one hand curl into Zoro’s hair, the glide of his tongue filling her cunt making her moan against the cook’s skin before her teeth rake a mark high on his throat.

“My loves,” she mumbles, warm and dazed, eyes only half-open as she gazes downward to watch Zoro through her eyelashes, hips giving a slow rock to move against the frissons of pleasure Zoro’s mouth sends zinging through her. Her free hand finds Sanji’s hip and follows the line of it down to the base of his cock, where her hand fists around the base of him, as the other rakes lightly down Zoro’s scalp before her nails drag over the nape of his neck.