During one of their weekly chat sessions between Robin and Nami on the deck far away from the other members of the crew near Nami's oranges, or just whenever, wherever there not getting dragged into fights by their childish but dependable captain.

"Soo… Robin, you and Franky finally huh?" Nami questioned Robin leaning her elbows on her knees with a devilish grin that would only cause mayhem.

Robin seemed amused by where the conversation was headed, and it showed on her face leaving Nami confused (and perhaps a tad bit scared- this is robin after all). Seeing this confusion, Robin elaborated "Like the sexual tension and heated glances between you and Zoro huh navigator-san?" with a quirked brow and amused smile.

"HAAAAH THE HELL YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT ROBIN, NOTHING IS GOING ON BETWEEN THAT MEATHEAD AND ME!"

Robin watches amused as Nami storms inside; chuckling in amusement, curious of how this new development will progress further.

Before now Nami had been avoiding Zoro every chance she got, and he knew she knew it.

Running Nami finds herself slamming into a wall, but it's not a wall as it catches her and pulls her back up. She looks up and is surprised to find green eyes staring her down, she's surprised it's Zoro and wondering how he is THAT built, like he didn't move an inch when she ran into him at full speed. As her breath catches in her throat, she makes a split-second decision to run away as fast as she could to the girls' cabins.

She isn't surprised.

When she left without saying anything to him, after days of blatantly ignoring him out of her sexual frustration, she knew he'd run after. Not that she didn't want him to, she did, but now, she's faced with calming an angry Zoro and explaining her behaviour. And, boy, is he pissed.

It's kind of hot - actually, correction, it's extremely hot to see him all worked up. His hair's an absolute wreck, his eyes are dark, his pupils were blown wide, and his cheeks are red. Every inch of him positively throbs with anger.

"Zoro."

"You owe me an explanation, Nami," Zoro growls, pinning her with a dangerous stare. "What the hell did I do to piss you off?"

"Nothing." Nami flinches - this absolutely will not help. "You didn't do anything, Zoro. I promise."

"Then what is it?" but it's not the explosion she was expecting, rather it's a soft sort of plea for her to just tell him. "What's wrong?"

But she doesn't know how to explain it.

How is she supposed to explain craving human contact? How does she explain the frustration of having the person she craves contact from in such proximity but not being able to get what she wants? Having him right there and not being able to touch or kiss him or do anything too intimate because of fear of rejection and being alone again; the kind of alone she was when she was in Arlong's crew, being surrounded by people but unable to connect.

How does she explain the frustration of seeing him, breathing in the scent of his raw masculinity, and hearing his voice, and having it only make everything worse? It's hard enough to explain everything else that goes on inside her head, most days, much less the sexual frustration that is responsible for her current mood.

So, Nami doesn't.

She does the only thing she can think to do.

She reaches up and grabs his head and pulls him into a bruising kiss. A few seconds of stumbling and teeth-gnashing before he catches up, hands pressing into the small of her back, forcing her closer. There's a faint growl when her fingers pull his green hair downwards. It's not painful in the slightest, but rather, it sends the blood rushing from his head. She's whimpering into his mouth, biting his lower lip, tugging on it until he's groaning, all deep and hot and full of want. It's enough to have her groping for his green yukata, closing her fingers around it, and yanking him into the room. He kicks the door shut, takes a breath, and is promptly shoved down onto her bed.

"Nami?"

He's confused.

Good

Nami takes a moment to watch him - the dark clouded eyes, the bruised mouth, the heavy breathing, the strain of arousal against his zipper, it's all so damn hot. It's why he ends up with an arm full of intent Nami before he can speak again before he can voice his question of where the hell this is going. Her hands are yanking at his Haramaki sash, forcing it undone, swords dropping to the floor, and rips the yukata open with force. He lifts his hips just enough for her to pull his underwear down. It doesn't take long for her jeans and panties to follow - cute little cotton things with some sort of pattern, he doesn't take much notice, but he's certain they're destroyed after the frantic way she was tearing them off.

"Nami, what about...?" he leaves the question open, even as his fingers dig into her soft skin.

"I'm on the pill." with that sharp statement, her hips sink, and she's enveloping him in her damp heat.

The relief is immediate.

"You," a little wiggle, taking more of him. "just," a roll of her hips. "looked," another roll, deeper, this time. "so," nails dig into his shoulders. "damn," it's a jerking motion, one that makes him growl. "good."

"So, did you." Zoro forces his hips up.

He's had this kind of sex - the fast and dirty variety but doing it with Nami feels like unexplored territory that had, up until now, been off-limits.

This isn't making love to Nami.

This is having sex with Nami. This is seeing a little of that dangerous, crazy, sexy Nami from battle. This is watching her move, so determined and fierce above him, feeling her clothes shoved aside. This is having her take what she needs, instead of her pursuing him afraid of rejection, this is her wanting things rough and dirty for the sake of relief.

And, oh God, does it feel good. So good, they're both a bit more vocal than they would be and neither cares about the noise complaints they're sure to hear about the next morning. It isn't long before Nami comes apart above him, digging her nails into his shoulders, and muffling her scream against his mouth. He's not far behind her, hips stuttering hotly, relief crackling down his spine.

The aftershocks have barely ebbed before she's scrambling from his lap, searching for her clothes, while he fixes his yukata and Haramaki. Gone is sexy, dangerous Nami, in her place is a frightened, trembling, Nami who looks as though she's about to be rejected and cry.

"Nami?" he reaches out to grab her wrist. "Hey, you alright?"

"I'm sorry," Nami murmurs, eyes still searching the floor for her previously discarded jeans.

"What?" Zoro tugs at her, pulling her back down onto his lap. "Nami, what in the world are you apologizing for? Talk to me, help me understand what's going on in your head?"

Her bottom lip quivers violently and she's slowly curling up into a ball in his lap, snuggling into his warm strength. Zoro is her safe place; he is her calm in the storm and right now, there's a whole hurricane happening in her head. She had just been so angry and frustrated, and it'd all been so hard and dirty and that's just not how she should treat him. She'd dug her nails into his shoulders, bruised him, hurt him when she hadn't meant to. She just needed to relieve some tension.

"I'm sorry." Nami's openly crying, now, shoulders shaking, face nuzzling into his pecks. "I'm sorry, Zoro."

"Hey," he angles his head to look down at her, his other hand coming up to brush her hair away from her face. "What's all this crying about? What's wrong?"

"I didn't talk to you and ask you out instead of fearing rejection too much and I was so rough, and you're so nice to me and deserve better than me, and I hurt you." but, she sounds so small and scared as if her entire world is being ripped out from under her. Again. "You never hurt me, and I bruised you. Your shoulders - "

"They're fine, you need to try a bit harder than that to hurt me." He jokes and rubs soothing circles on her back. "You didn't hurt me." He reassures.

"But I was so rough and angry and you - " it's a weak protest, sure, but she still feels horrible.

"Didn't complain." Zoro is quick to remind her, slipping his arms around her tiny frame. "I liked it." he kisses the top of her head. "So, you were a little rough? It's alright. It's nothing I haven't done before. It doesn't matter how you want it, Nami." his fingers comb through her tangle of red curls. " I don't care if you give me bruises, or if we don't do a damn thing, or we do something in between. I'm with you. That's all I care about. I love you, Nami. What kind of sex we have or how rough you think you need it; it doesn't matter to me? What matters to me is that it's not some random girl in a bar I'm having that sex with. It's you. Baby girl, I don't know if you've realized it, yet, but you're it for me."

Sniffle.

It's a bit of a wait, now. Wait for her to process everything. All the anger and the guilt and the love. He does wonder if this isn't a little bit of younger Nami coming out. If that little girl who never had her voice was never allowed to think a certain way, or do certain things - if it's her who feels the guilt, for taking her life back, for taking control. If a little rough sex is how she needed to feel control, he certainly wouldn't be complaining, though the guilt would be something for them to work through. He's never had a girl cry after sex.

"I love you." she finally whispers, after a long while.

"I love you, too, Nami." he smiles tenderly, kissing her head. "No more crying, okay?"

"Okay."

That doesn't stop Nami from blushing deep red when her Robin shows up the next morning (having slept in the boys' cabins as to not interrupt), offering them, in explicit detail, the noise complaints she received the night before from the crew.