X Reader - Blog Posts

CHUUYA ONE SHOTS !!!

Hiii guysss, been a while since i've posted any writing, this is just once again more one shots, because i like them :3 there just so fun to write and make up. Chuuya might be a bit mischaracterised in this, and idk, who cares >.<

GNReader x Chuuya (implied relationship/dating)

Genre: Not really sure with this one (i would guess romance?) but there is some nsfw and explicate writing and words at the end.

Synopsis: Dates with him <3

Theres not to much nsfw, but i would say anything under 16 dni and i HEAVILY advise you to not read, (or at least not read the nsfw part, it starts at the 10th dot point thing, so if you are gonna read it, PLEASE at least skip past that part :3)

ANYWAY !! ENJOY POOKIES

-If you and Chuuya where in a relationships, he would ADORE setting up very fancy dates, taking you to the most expensive, clean and polished places around Japan

-He would buy you clothes often to go out to the dates to :3

-During the actual date, he’d hold your hand softly, finding the best space to sit, with the biggest view, and no one around. He’d pay for EVERYTHING, make sure and check up constantly that you were happy and calm, and if you ever got overstimulated or just wanted to go, he would immediately get you out of the place and take you to a nice quiet park

-Due to his work in the PM most of the dates start at night which is fine, he thinks its more romantic anyway

-Chuuya buys the most elegant wine for the dates and always dresses up in suits and hats, chains and jewlery, basically he just looks like a decked out mafia member and then you all dressed up in the outfit he chose. (He gets a bit upset if you don’t wear the outfit he picked out, but he wouldn’t ever voice that to you, or force you to wear anything you don’t want to)

-For the times you end up in the park instead of at the restaurant, you go on long strolls, arms interlocked, either talking about your days, or anything on your minds, or enjoy the peacefulness of the night

-He’d find benches that over look the nice water, and he hold you, stroking your shoulders, back and thigh (He is addicted to touching your thighs, he just really likes them for some reason :3)

-Most date nights take long, filled with endless laughter and pure joy and distraction from the usual despair of Chuuya’s life but if Chuuya or you are quite tired or aren’t in the mood for much, they will be quicker, and if either of you really just cant go, you’ll stay home and cuddle up, watching shows, or reading together.

(-Only sometimes, if Chuuya gets home extremely stressed, he’ll feel guilty and annoyed at himself for not being able to plan something, so he’ll get slightly snappy and pissed at you to take the anger out. He then just feels even worse about this, and will cook as best he can and cuddle you all night.)

-When you guys get home from the dates, he’ll shower you in kisses, both of you being slightly tispy from the wine. He’ll touch you softly, hands sliding down to your hips and thighs as he pushes you onto the bed.

-He’ll want to really make sure your consenting to everything he wants to do, so even as he kisses your neck and shoulders, hands running all over your body and under your clothes, he’ll be asking if your ok, if you want this, and if you're FULLY ok with this.

-If you’d say no, obviously, he’d stop, backing off and just snuggling up with you under a big cozy blanket. Having you as a little spoon, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as the two of you happily doze off :3

-If you say yes, Chuuya, would absolutely just fuck you into oblivion. Of course, at first, he’d be gentle and soft, preparing you, kissing you, licking at your inner thighs and nuzzling into the soft skin, but as time goes on, your breathy moans and look of your body and blissed face, he’d pick up the pace. Skin slapping against skin, his cock sinking deep into and disappearing over and over as he nibbles, licks and grips at your skin.

-After finishing, the two of you would be sweaty and hot, but even so, Chuuya would clean you, snuggle you in a big blanket, and he would lazily drape himself over you and the two of you would fall asleep peacefully :3

-A delightful way to end the date nights :3

-Sometimes the two of you would be giggling messes and would just collapse on the bed, being all softly intimately and once again falling peacefully in each others arms.

Woah, this is a lot longer than the last one lmao. I guess i had more idea's. So yeah, as ya see, not to bad in terms of nsfw, but i really dont know how to do warnings and genres, so please help ig in the comments if yk how i could properly do that 😭

Byeeee <3333 i forgot how fun this sh!t was ^^

We should move in together (≧◡≦)

CW: 18+ MDNI, neighbour!price x reader - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

You find out John Price doesn’t play around when it comes to catching up on sleep while he’s on leave.

Struggling to bring in a heavy package one morning, you’re startled by your neighbour emerging from his unit huffing and puffing tiredly about noise in nothing but a simple pair of low hanging pyjama bottoms.

You’re concerned you’re going to get an earful when he wordlessly hoists the box up, uncaring about the way it tugs at his waistband to expose a dusting of hair and noticeable veins. Leaving your delivery just inside your door, he turns to look at you through squinted eyes, and your cheeks heat up when you realize you’ve been caught watching it bob under the loose fabric.

In your defence, he cuts quite the hypnotic figure from the side.

“Thank you, John-“ you try- only to be interrupted by a thick arm hooking around your neck; the other reaching behind him to close your door with just a tad too much force. His free hand lowers to scratch at his belly, prompting a loud yawn as a thick palm dips lower, giving himself a little squeeze. With a content hum rolling around in his chest, he pulls you into his apartment.

“Too early.” He grumbles as he flops onto his well-worn couch, half asleep and tugging you with him. Like a strangler fig, he rolls onto his side and cages you against the cushions, his legs tangling around yours and his cock unmistakably fattening against your belly.

I need him so bad (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ(„ಡωಡ„)

Can't stop thinking about Price gaining some winter weight, having you warm your cold hands on his soft hairy stomach while you're sat on your knees between his big thighs, looking at the soft fat pad that's starting to settle around the base of his cock as he feeds it to you, your nose tickled by the hair on his stomach as he guides you down towards the base. It all makes his cock seem thicker, makes it feel like he's really stretching out your throat until tears are brimming on your lash line and he's wiping the wetness from your cheeks with a big gentle thumb. He'll make you hold onto his love handles while he fucks your face, just you wait.

I wouldn’t mind (≧◡≦) \(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

A/N: This came to me in some wackass half-dream haze and I felt so strongly about it that I spent way too much time on it :'0

Synopsis: Your annoying werewolf friend with benefits “accidentally” forgets to pull out one night.

CW: NSFW, Fem! Reader, friends with benefits turns yandere, yandere had previous FWB’s, baby-trapping, pregnant reader

Werewolf! Yandere X Fem Reader

“I'm so glad we can fuck like this,” Your, lack of a better word for it, fuckbuddy huffed in your ear. “No falling in love with me, not having to dote on you like an idiot of a boyfriend.”

You tried to block out his manic, cock-driven rants when you first started sleeping with him, how he was surprised you didn't pretend to bat your eyelashes and hold on desperately to his arm like a clingy lover after the first ‘session.’ so many other girls, other partners, other “sleepovers” he's had would get attached, annoyingly so in his opinion. 

A part of his hubris in creating unwanted lovers made you dislike him even further, even if he was good at making you claw at the bedsheets and beg for more of him inside you. 

How could he blame your fellow humans for falling for a beast so much larger, naturally protective and possessive while he was railing them? You were only safe from any kind of affections for him because of how irritating you found him as a neighbor in your apartment complex. Knocking things over with his giant tail, cussing in the middle of the night for breaking yet again another bed, or perhaps bedframe. 

Maybe if he didn't have such a sick fetish for humans like your kind, your frailty as a species and longing for such an obsessive protector, he wouldn't have so many admirers, and simultaneously so many nightly lovers. 

Despite his permissive behavior and attempts to disgust his fuck partners, they came crawling back hoping for more-- for a family and a life with a beast who no human man could match up to,in size, strength, or pleasure. 

but you were always welcome in his bed-- leaving before he tried to kick you out, taking your birth control immediately in a panic after, hardly making conversation in the halls-- it was a great give and take situation. You both satisfied each other, with no strings attached. 

He knew you were irritated by his teasing, by how he gloated in how much you loved his werewolf cock, how you probably couldn't wait to come back for more. You'd shove out of his way, annoyed and sick of his charades. And yet, like clockwork at midnight, you'd be at his door, or he'd be at yours-- and the rest would be history. 

That didn't make him any less insufferable while he was busy making you squeal, however. but it was worth it, the ecstasy you felt after and the seeming addictiveness his pheromones brought you. Your whole week was brightened, you were less irritable-- when you weren't around him, atleast-- and you felt fresher, more like yourself. 

It was hard not to come crawling back for that same euphoria again, even if it hurt your pride to do so. So you kept up a reluctant “friend's” with benefits relationship, Ignoring how he seemed to stop bringing anyone else over, blocking out how he tried to kiss you when you writhed beneath him. Even taking his time when he ate you out like a prisoner devouring his last meal. 

It felt far more…personal. Like you weren’t two strangers who had become accustomed to each other’s beds and ceilings. You didn’t even know what he did for work, what he ate for breakfast, or if he even had family. 

It meant hardly anything to you, knowing there was no chance for more seeing how guarded the werewolf was about relationships, no expectations extending for him to treat you to dinner or kiss you after making you cum. So why was it so physically exhausting when he became more gentle, less apathetic when he roughhoused with you on the bed as his form of foreplay? 

He actually let out a satisfied groan at witnessing the dips and flesh of your body now, smelling you from the sweat on your forehead to your knobby ankles. He grew quiet with animalistic intensity as the bulge in his sweatpants got damper, more constrained. 

What really hit the nail on the head for you was how your “sessions” got slower. He was savouring being inside of you, drawing out both of your orgasms instead of chasing it as roughly as physically possible-- like he had when he first laid eyes on your naked self. He dared to edge you at the cusp of an orgasm a few times, slowing and grinning at the burning in your eyes, your attempts to overpower him with no avail. You thought it was just some twisted game, another irritating part of his obsessive power grab that he’s been trying to wave over your head since you first met him. 

But no, he merely wanted that glare to be on him, to be eye to eye with you. No matter how many times you attempted to stare at the ceiling and prevent from falling into those hazel, speckled eyes, he kept his attention right at yours. He wouldn’t force you to look back, but he would never look away, like some kind of stalker you were letting on your bed and into your pants. 

You had tried to stay away, to ease your addiction of that pheromone-causing high that was making you more aroused and beautiful by the day-- but you caved. And that, was the moment you knew you had officially messed up. Hearing his jaggy, breathy, “You’re mine,” in the midst of his ruts was not as hot and heavy as most would perceive it as. It created a pit in your stomach, a feeling that never went away after he finished. You could only vaguely get up, taking your clothes and finding your way to the door. 

You avoided him indefinitely after that, ignoring the craving inside of you to be intimate with him, to know that he was near and ready to pounce on you. But after weeks of your fucking sessions coming to a strange halt, it was no surprise that the werewolf wouldn’t let you off easy.

“I slammed on your doorbell like 50 times last night. And you didn’t even say hi in the lobby, what the hell? Why’re you avoiding me?” He slammed his rickety green apartment door shut behind him without a forethought. “Listen, you made me drag you in here, okay? I wouldn’t have had to do this if you would just talk to me.”

You sigh, irritated and mind far too busy to deal with his mood swing.

“I wasn’t. I’ve just been busy. I don’t have time for, being here every night anymore.” You shrugged your coat off, trying to remind him you were still in control even if he was blocking your method of escape. 

“Oh, Is that it? Or have you found someone new instead to fuck you, someone else in this apartment building maybe?” He came up behind you, watching as you stared at the bed’s rustled sheets, white linen that you couldn’t tell had been washed or not. 

You let out an exasperated “ugh”. Of course his first thought was that you were busy fucking somebody else. 

But you weren’t given time to argue, to point out his hypocrisy. You were flipped on the bed, staring again at the blurry ceiling you’ve become so familiar with in his apartment. 

“No… You smell just the same, exactly as you should. Like me.” 

He pried your legs open to make room for straddling you, pushing his crotch directly below your jean’s zipper. 

“So what’s the problem? Why’re you so uptight, thinking you’re too good to come ‘round my place.”

He grabbed at your hips, your cotton shirt rolling up as he dug under it. And there, lied the problem. 

“Hey!” You shouted, trying to push his invasive hands off. 

“What--” Pulling down your shirt didn’t matter much, he had already seen it. 

“I was leaving you alone for a reason,” You gritted your teeth, sitting up on the bed. Both of you went quiet for a moment, his eyes wide, but not as bewildered in anger like you expected.  

You spoke quietly, trying to ease the tension. “I’m going to take care of it. I didn’t realize this would happen, I was doing everything right--”

“I can’t believe.. It actually worked.”

You looked at him, not with fear this time, but explosive fury. 

Now it was your turn to shout an unbridled “What!?”

“Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck, hair getting so long to the point it brushed against his short fingernails. “I can’t really remember! I just know something took over me, maybe it was the whiskey… but all I knew was, I needed to finish inside of you. I wanted to see you glowing and full, I couldn’t help myself with the idea keeping me going.” 

You were ready to release a full assault on him, eyes beginning to prick with tears of anger and absolute shock. 

“I wasn’t thinking, okay! It’s not like I’m particularly ready to handle a kid either. But.. I guess I wouldn’t mind a few pups; we’re not getting any younger. My mom’s been pestering me a lot lately actually…”

Your mouth sat agape, grabbing a fistful of sheets to prevent from hitting him, which would just end up hurting yourself. 

“I thought you weren’t interested in girlfriends or family or bullshit like that?! Mister, ‘I can’t be bothered with full-blown relationships’ wants to move along and ruin my life?!”

“Baby that was months ago, I haven’t seen anyone else in a long time; and y’know, that’s not normal for me. I think… you’re different. Something about ‘us’ is different. If it’s with you, I don’t mind the idea of seeing you carrying my children. It feels.. God it just sounds so sexy.” 

“ ‘Baby?!’ Okay, we are nothing to each other, I don’t even know where you work, where you’re from-- and all of a sudden you want to start a family together?”

The werewolf winced at your wrath, mildly annoyed at your loud tone and thrashing hands. 

“Is it so outrageous to believe that it’s a species difference? Werewolves have their mates, humans not so much. Is it crazy to believe we’re meant for each other, that I would kill for you? That you were SUPPOSED to be mine, and we only just now found each other?”

You were mind-boggled at the rush of information, not believing your eyes when you saw a near love-struck dog at your feet, the creature you once knew to be an irritating bachelor keen on fucking you ‘till your eyes rolled back, and that was it. 

The stress was getting to you, the fear for your future, the sudden “relationship” you had been thrown into with a man you knew nothing about besides the layout of his apartment and the ridges of his cock. 

“Hey, hey its okay. I promise its going to be alright. I’ll take such good care of you-- you’ll have nothing to worry about, I’ll be the perfect father for our pups; You’ll have a family, someone to take care of you, someone who loves you.” He stroked your head, watching as you furiously wiped away tears of anger and fear. “I’ve never felt that before… but I promise it’s not something I take lightly. I promise, you make my heart throb just as, if not more, than my cock. I promise.”

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Well, there’s not much else you can get from a fuckboy who’s main priority in life had been satiating his lust. 

You mumble something incoherent about needing to get back to your apartment, needing to get away from everything. But if the werewolf heard it, he didn’t acknowledge your desire to leave. 

“I know, I know it’s hard. I’m scared too. But I promise you’ll make the perfect mother. I can see it now, your pretty belly, your needs for me…we’ll be together, it’s new for the both of us. And, on the plus side, I can fuck you now without pulling out...”

You shuddered at the thought, hating the idea of how possessive he was seeming to grow, laying you down as he spooned you from behind, not daring to let go for a moment. Your jeans were clawed to scraps of denim as he tried to shimmy them down, no success other than tearing them into pieces. 

“Why don’t we try tonight? Make you feel good,” The werewolf was running himself between your inner thighs, pressing against your bare cunt before he whispered. “I know you’ve been wanting me too, all desperate without my touch, my scent. Let me take care of you, of us.”

AAAHHHH\(^ヮ^)/\(^ヮ^)/

NSFW

You yawned, smiling sleepily as you felt the familiar warmth of your Werewolf!Husband’s tongue lapping at your cunt.

“Happy Mother’s Day, princess…” he murmured against your clit, looking up at you with those pretty brown eyes of his. “Wanted to start your day off right…”

A contented sigh left your lips, your cheeks warm and your stomach tingly as his tongue slipped into you. “Mmph, that’s it… ah, thank you baby…”

You had recently become the mother of a litter of pups, three in total. Currently, they were asleep in the nursery across the hall. They were all now 7 months old, starting to walk and talk. You knew werewolf pups were a bit more advanced than human babies, but you hadn’t been expecting them to be running around so early!

“I’ll be taking care of the pups today, so don’t worry at all.”

Your husband brought you over the edge several times, his red cock bobbing between his legs. Despite his obvious arousal, he left it alone, tending to your needs.

“Such a good pup…” you cooed, gently playing with his fluffy hair. “My pretty boy, wanna knot me?”

From the way his cock bobbed violently, you knew his answer.

Your husband had you pinned in a second, growling lowly into your ear. “Pretty mate, already want another litter of pups? Gonna make you a mommy all over again…”

So you spent Mother’s Day a bit sore and full of cum, but competent satisfied.

As a person with glasses this it right here💖💖💖

cw: f!reader, reader wears glasses, facials n cumshots, this is self indulgent izuku filth ૮>ﻌ < აﾉ”

izuku didn’t know exactly what it was that drove him so crazy about your glasses. it was something so cute about the way they constantly slipped to the tip over your round nose. he’d never get enough of the way you pushed them up without a second thought, so much so it was basically a nervous tic. he liked the bigger frames best, those cartoonish, coke-rimmed glasses that made your eyes all wide and doe like. you were precious, but the imagery always made his cock twitch in his pants. it was embarrassing, the way his body behaved like that of a teenager, but he wanted to do nothing more than paint your face.

….

he gets his way soon enough, when you’re down on your knees, nuzzling your soft lips against his slippery cock that was lubed up with frothy bubbles of saliva. you were a fucking masterpiece as you spread the mess against your cheeks, your nose..your glasses. his tip kept hitting against the frames, smudging them, pushing them up for you like your own dainty fingers usually would. your hand lifted to pluck them from your nose but he stopped you just as your messy mascara came into view.

“leave them…”

your pretty eyebrows knitted together as his palm went to hold at the back of your head. his other hand, much larger than your own, took ahold of his own shaft, pumping himself like he normally did when he was close. a wanton groan left his lips at the sight of your confusion, god you looked so fucking innocent like this. he had to ruin it, had to dirty that pristine picture. nothing showed a doll was well loved better than when it was a wreck, well used and utterly destroyed.

“i want to paint this pretty face, you’ll l-let me won’t you? you’ll be so good for me, huh?”

and you were never one to deny him and his freckled cheeks, nodding dumbly along with his gentle coercion. his grip tightened in your hair as he tilted your head back, held you in place to take his load. it didn’t take long with the view of your smeared tinted gloss, the wetness of your lashes all clumped and spider-liked with makeup. he came at the sight of your tongue rolling out in invitation, his a grunt he shot thick white ropes of cum against your frames, your face, your tongue. and when he finished wringing his cock dry, he spread his seed along your glasses while you panted and keened.

“there’s my girl, prettier than any picasso…give me a smile won’t you?”

how could you say no?

☆

fruit bats [ @neon-gothicc @bakubunny @bookcluberror @kunigamisgirl @dizazter-dragoon @jazzafayesworld @cherriluvs35 @dreamcastgirl99 @pastelbakugou @ladybirdk @i-literally-cant-with-this @darkstarlight82 @maddietries ]

ask me to be ok the fruit bat taglist!! <3 ↑

banner cred: @ / neon-gothicc

Does anyone have any Sylus fic recommendations where reader ISNT mc??

I want that gut wrenching, going against destiny and fate, against all odds trope injected in my veins 😍😍

THANK YOUU!!

⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆ are you there universe?it’s me, tomura ⋆⭒˚.⋆🪐 ⋆⭒˚.⋆

a quick wee fic. can be read as canon or au. reader insert x shigaraki. mostly friendship with a swipe of romantic undertones. you and shiggy get vaguely existential while stoned. gender of reader not mentioned.

ao3

drug use, reference to past abuse, reader has a scar . MDNI.

“Do you think we’re terrible people in every universe?”

Tomura takes the blunt from your outstretched hand. The ruddy glow from the tip is the only source of light that night; the clouds obscure the moon and stars from prying eyes. He hums in consideration at your question, eyes searching the darkness for a possible answer.

There’s a short pause before he finally answers.

“Yes.”

“Oh?” You turn to him. He can’t see your face, but the curiosity is evident in your tone. “What makes you say that?”

He shrugs and then hugs his knees to his chest, adjusting his position on the gravely tarmac. “It’s simple, really.” He takes a drag, tips his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, enjoying the thrum travelling throughout his body.

You grab the blunt back. “Care to elaborate, oh illusive one?”

He tilts his head towards where you sit next to him. The heady smell of weed lingers in the air, and he hopes none of the others smell and ask to join this time. He likes it when it’s just you two.

Kind of loves it, actually.

The tip illuminates as you take another puff. It’s shrivelled down into a roach, and you sigh in disgust as you stub it into the ground. “S’all gone.” He can feel your eyes on him in the darkness still waiting for the explanation.

He stretches his legs out again. “Like I said,” he says through a contented yawn. “It’s simple: I like being a terrible person.”

You laugh, but it’s more like a mix between a scoff and a sigh of disappointment. “You don’t like to believe there’s a universe out there that was kind to us?”

He can hear you shuffle in the dark. He doesn’t need to see you to know you’re lifting your hand to the raised, angry scar across your throat.

“I don’t- it’s not that I don’t want there to be a universe that’s kinder,” he justifies. “It’s just that I’m okay with being considered a terrible person.” You say nothing, so he goes on: “I like getting to be a terrible person with a league of equally terrible people.”

And it’s true, really. He’d like a universe where his dad never laid a finger on him and a universe where his mum and his sister still lived and a universe where he never accidentally killed his own fucking dog-

He’d have never met you, though.

There’s another pause as you ruminate on what he says. He can hear the click of your fingers as you tap them against one another - one of your nervous habits.

“You get real sappy when you’re stoned, you know that?” you finally say.

And also kind of horny, he thinks. But he’s not exactly going to say that to you.

You shuffle closer, the scrape of your trainers the only sound puncturing the silence of the night. You’re almost leaning into him. He can smell the cheap shampoo from your hair, and at that moment it might be the most beautiful thing he’s ever smelled in his life.

“Do we get to be terrible together in every universe, then?” You ask, head migrating closer and closer into the crook of his neck.

He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes.”

He can feel you smile against his shoulder. You wrap your arm around his torso, pulling yourself further into his side. The clouds finally relent, flooding the earth once again with the light of the moon and the ocean of stars. Your eyes are heavy, and you use your free hand to stifle a yawn.

“I’m okay with being terrible in every universe if I get to be terrible with you, Shiggy”

He stills, and swallows thickly. You couldn’t mean- it wasn’t like you meant-

Surely it was just the weed talking. He looks down to where you lie on his chest, ready to ask what the hell you meant, but your eyes are pressed shut and your chest heaves as sleep gently pulls you under.

He presses the most brief, chaste kiss to your head where it rests on his chest. He pauses briefly to inhale your scent.

“Fine. In every universe, then,” he sighs into the stars. “In every universe.”

Oh my lord y’all we’re about to be fed real good

Come and celebrate with me!

As a gift for myself, all I really want is you guys with me. I love this community here, and I hope you enjoy the month of October. I have been working extremely hard to get all these prepped and ready to go. With a variety of 'x reader' characters for you to become, come and enjoy being taken on a writing journey while I explore a variety of our favourites - all absolutely NSFW.

If you feel inclined to gift anything to me in return: Reblog any of the works on my Masterlist and tell me what you liked about it in the tags. Art will always be welcome for my works: if there's a scene that lingers on in your mind, I would love to see your interpretation. If there's ever a fic that you feel could be expanded on with words: upload what you write and tag me so I can get all giggly alongside you.

Tobiuo, my OC, is always on my heart. You're welcome to draw her, write about her, and enjoy her with me. Whether it's her ship (Tobiuo x Heat), platonic with her crew (Heart Pirates), or being alongside your own in any capacity: friends, enemies, lovers - I would love to see your interpretation of her.

Mdni, NSFW, 18+, characters and prompts below.

The Dinner Menu:

Law: Exhibitionism (Oct 1st)

Afab!reader

Borsalino (Kizaru): Roleplay (Oct 2nd)

F!reader

Shachi & Penguin: Caught Masturbating (Oct 3rd)

Afab!reader

Doflamingo: Humiliation (Oct 4th)

F!reader

Bartolomeo: Pet-Play (Oct 5th)

Gn!reader

Wire: Coaching (Oct 6th)

F!reader

Sanji: Boot Worship (Oct 7th)

M!reader

Killer: Sensory deprivation (Oct 8th)

Afab!reader

Heat: Feet (Oct 9th)

Afab!reader

Koby: Discipline (Oct 10th)

M!reader

Garp: Age Gap (Oct 11th)

F!reader

Sabo: Gloves (Oct 12th)

Afab!reader

Caesar: Aphrodisiac (Oct 13th)

Afab!reader

Kuzan: temperature play (Early Release)

F!reader

Bepo: Ursusagalmatophilia (furry) (Oct 15th)

Afab!reader

Fujitora: Suspension (Oct 16th)

F!reader

Katakuri: Food (Oct 17th)

Gn!reader

Lucci: Marking (Oct 18th)

F!reader

Jinbe: Double Penetration (Oct 19th)

Afab!reader

Crocodile: Spanking (Oct 20th)

Gn!reader

Cracker: Mommy (Oct 21st)

F!reader

Zoro: Cuddlefucking (Oct 22nd)

M!reader

Cross-Guild: Free Use (Oct 23rd)

F!reader

Franky: Body worship (Oct 24th)

Afab!reader

Buggy: Chastity (Oct 25th)

Gn!reader

Mihawk: Knife-Play (Oct 26th)

F!reader

Reiju: Drug-Play (Oct 27th)

F!reader

Tashigi: Face Sitting (Oct 28th)

Gn!reader

Robin: Overstimulation (Oct 29th)

Afab!reader

Beckman: Hair Pulling (Oct 30th)

Afab!reader

Kid: Bondage (Monster Edition) (Oct 31st)

Gn!reader

Rosinante: Love Confession (Nov 1st) My Birthday

F!reader

🎶Happy Birthday to me🎶

If you would like to send funds to put towards my caffeine and bubble tea addiction, my Kofi link is here.

Oh Lordy 🥴

Rotation

Characters: Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire

Reader: cis fem

Word Count: 24k

CW: explicit NSF.W content, recreation drug use, aphrodisiac, gangbang, oral (giving and receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, anal, voyeurism

Summary: After finally opening up to the crew, a recent personal victory has you all sailing to your home island to celebrate. However, you accidentally smoke the wrong strain, one thing leads to another, and you become the next object in the rotation.

Ao3 Link

Mesiba Island was famous far and wide for being a party island. Casinos, clubs, bars, brothels, even a natural hot spring–there was something for everyone. Liquor flowed like water, and drug laws were the laxest in all of the Grand Line. As your homeplace, you were used to the chaos and violence. Crimes of passion were commonplace, and death was regular news. 

Still, somehow you never expected it to happen to you.

A visiting pirate killed a close friend of yours, and by the time you’d heard about it, he’d fled the island. You were able to find out two vital things: He was heading further into the Grand Line, and he had a crew.

You were going to kill him. Of that, you were certain. But you also knew you couldn’t do it on your own. So, only hours after you’d learned of your friend’s death, you’d looked over the pirate crews that had currently docked on the island and approached the strongest one there.

“I want to join your crew.” You spoke firmly, standing tall, trying to show how serious you were.

“Oh?” Eustass “Captain” Kid looked down his nose at you. “Why should I let you?”

You gritted your teeth. “I want to kill someone who’s traversing the Grand Line. He’s got a crew. So I need to travel with one, too. And it needs to be a crew who’s not afraid to get dirty. The meaner the better.”

Kid wasn’t impressed. “And what makes you think you can handle sailing with us, pipsqueak?”

“I’m strong.”

“You’re puny,” Kid scoffed. He did have over a foot of height on you, but it didn’t scare you. Size difference was rarely an issue for you in fights. “And you use knives,” he continued, gaze falling to the rows of short blades strapped to your hips, “meaning you have to get in close range to your opponent, where you’ll get torn apart.”

“If they can keep up,” you argued. What you lacked in brute force, you well made up for in speed. “I can fight, Kid.”

The man cast a shadow as he leaned over you, narrowed eyes taking in your determined expression, assessing something–you didn’t know what. Then he smirked and stood up straight.

“Tell you what,” Kid jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward a man in blue who was almost as big as he was. A blue and white mask entirely concealed his face, thick blond hair spilling behind it that reached the back of his knees. Large hands curled around heavy metal gauntlets that were attached to wicked-looking scythes, currently folded back out of the way.

“If you can survive three minutes with Killer, I’ll let you join,” Kid said, looking smug. Like he thought you would be intimidated.

“Masquerade Rapunzel over there?” You glanced at the masked man. He was built a little leaner than Kid, but still impressive. Nothing you couldn’t handle, though. And if you couldn’t do this much, then how could you avenge your friend? You raised your chin confidently. “Bet.”

Killer ended up surprising you with his speed, but you were more agile. As a bigger target, he had to block your strikes while you needed to dodge his. The swings of those scythes packed a lot of force behind them, it was too risky to attempt to block. You were certain it would only take a single, direct hit to mortally injure you. But you were very good with your knives, and you were efficient above all else: your knowledge of anatomy taught you the best points to aim for on the human body.

Three minutes later, you’d stabbed Killer right below the chest. He almost decapitated you afterward, though, suddenly moving far more quickly than before. You jerked back at the last moment, and his blade tore you open to the bone, from your clavicle to your shoulder. Now second-guessing your chances of survival, you nonetheless prepared to strike back–and Kid called time. You and Killer were both hurting, but you were alive.

You expected them to be angry, but neither Kid nor Killer seemed bothered about either of the frankly concerning injuries. Moreover, Kid was impressed enough by the fight to honor his word. Their ship’s doctor patched you both up, and that night, you became the newest member of the Kid Pirates.

You didn’t open up for months.

You didn’t talk, much less hold conversations, and you mostly kept to yourself. Part of it was the fresh grief of losing your friend. Part of it was difficulty adjusting to the new lifestyle, having never sailed before. But mostly, you figured there was no point–after you got your revenge, you’d be parting ways with the Kid Pirates. It stayed in the back of your mind the entire time: This is temporary.

“Hey, Y/n, watcha doin’?” House paused by where you sat against the mast, your weapons laid out on your lap.

“Sharpening my knives,” you responded without looking at her.

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”

“I like knowing they’re sharp.”

House glanced to the side, fiddling with her fingers. “...Oookay. I’ll leave you to it, I guess…”

And so it went. But months slipped by and turned to years, and living and fighting with the same people for that long had an effect that even your stubborn self couldn’t resist. It was in the way Wire dropped his coat onto you when you were shivering from an unexpected cold front, the garment gigantic and more like a blanket in comparison to you. It was in the way Killer found out your favorite food and served it for dinner after catching you crying one afternoon in the crow’s nest. It was in the way the girls in the crew drew you into their group (“us pirate girls gotta stick together!”) and let you jam with them on your off hours. Slowly, like a flower growing after the last winter, you opened up to the others’ warmth.

And heaven help them when you did, because once you got comfortable, you stopped censoring yourself. As you became friendly with the crew and got past your grief, your original personality started to shine through, and whatever thought came to mind was fair game. You started talking to the crew like you did to your friends back home–which, for Mesiba Island natives, typically meant being crass and lewd. You couldn’t help it, it was just in your nature. Maybe your original friend group took it too far, though.

Case in point: Heat looked over your shoulder at a letter you were writing one day, and commented on your (admittedly awful) handwriting.

“Can your friends back home even read what you send them, or do you all write like that?”

You replied without thinking. “Don’t bully me, Heat, I’ll cum.” 

Heat’s entire body flinched like he was hit, and he blushed all the way down to his neck, contrasting brilliantly with his tattoos. Completely disarmed, he opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words.

Oops, that might have been a bit much for him. For all that his appearance might suggest, Heat was one of the most reserved members of the crew. You just returned to your letter, adding the exchange to the list of things you were writing about. You’d leave out how cute the blush looked on Heat, though, saving that thought for yourself to enjoy privately.

Then there was the time Kid was having drunken arm wrestling matches with some of the guys. You slid into the seat across from him and propped your elbow on the table, equally inebriated and mostly joking–his arm was three times as thick as yours, after all.

Kid shot you a lazy smirk. “Don’t even bother. You’ll just be a disappointment.”

“You sound like my father,” you joked. “Careful there, Captain. I might develop a complex.”

Brow raising, he grabbed your outstretched hand, dwarfing it in his. “Sounds like you already have one.”

“It is what it is.” Your gaze dropped to his arm, to the flexing of the thick muscle rippling underneath the skin, a little too intoxicated to catch yourself checking him out. Kid didn’t miss it, looking smug.

He squeezed your hand, the strength behind his grip setting butterflies free in your stomach. “Give it your best shot, then, pipsqueak.”

You pushed with all your might, straining and struggling, even leaning your body weight into his arm like you weren’t supposed to. You barely made any headway, Kid’s arm only moving back a little bit. He just watched you through half-lidded eyes, unbothered, a small smirk showing his amusement at your feeble attempt.

Maybe it was just the alcohol warming your blood, but the struggle seemed to affect you a little more than it should have. You could have chalked up the pounding of your heart to the physical exertion of the attempt, and not the stark power difference so obviously displayed between you and Kid, but it would have been a lie. The way your gaze kept ending up on his massive arms was proof enough of that.

“Hmph.” Kid waited another minute, then slowly and easily pushed your hand down until it pressed into the table. He did not let go. “Weak.”

“Bleh,” you stuck out your tongue, even though you had fully expected the result. “Well, you don’t need a lot of force behind your attacks if your knives are sharp.” You patted the knives at your hip and smirked. “Flesh parts easily for the sturdy blade.”

Kid’s grip on your hand tightened a little, and you went rigid at the way his voice dipped low. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Y/n?”

“Intimately so,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks getting warm, the sensation of his hand over yours suddenly overwhelming. Unused to feeling shy, you quickly covered it up with banter. “While I also enjoy holding your hand, Captain, I’ll be needing mine back.”

Kid’s eyes widened before he let go, drawing his arm back a bit too fast. Got him.

You stood, deciding tactfully not to point out his reaction, instead offering him a sheepish grin. “Thanks for indulging me, anyway. G’night, Captain.”

Maybe you had imagined the faint dusting of red on his cheeks, but as you walked away, you were determined not to think about it. Teasing was fine with you, so long as it stayed strictly verbal–you had no business getting close in that sort of way with anyone, no matter how drawn you felt to them. There were a few people in the crew that you liked being around a little more than you should have. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that they were the only ones who could kick your ass, your brain immediately going to unsavory places whenever they bested you while sparring.

Technically it made sense, given that they were the strongest four: Kid, Killer, Wire, and Heat. You ranked fifth in terms of combat ability (though other crewmates had seniority over you due to experience,) earned one day after a long, exhausting match with Gig. You had barely come out on top, literally, by perching on his back and strangling him with his own necklace. You were certain you could at least handle Heat after that, but when you later challenged the fire-breather, it only took a short while before he had you pinned to the floor with a hand wrapped around your neck, your knives knocked out of reach.

Heat opened his mouth, curls of smoke rising out in threat, and you tapped out, trying not to think about the feel of his fingers around your throat.

“Okay, okay, you win,” you sighed in defeat. “Hurry up and let go before you awaken something in me.”

Heat pulled away quickly, blushing, though it could have also been from exertion. It looked good on him either way, even combined with the annoyed look he gave you. 

“You don’t even need to fight your opponents. You could just run that colorful mouth of yours, and they would run away,” he grumbled, offering you a hand.

You took it, and Heat pulled you easily to your feet. He must have still felt flustered, though, because he pulled a little too hard, making you stumble into him. He caught you, steadying you by the arms, and when your gazes met, you both froze, realizing how close you were.

Heat’s eyes flickered back and forth across your face, his blush deepening when he glanced at your lips. Suddenly the pounding of your heart had nothing to do with exercise. Caught off guard and anxious, you played it off the only way you knew how. “You gotta at least buy me dinner before talking about my mouth, sir.” 

Really, you weren’t trying to make it worse. You just couldn’t help yourself, always talking too much whenever you got nervous. The words only served to thicken the tension, the feeling of his hands on your arms exceedingly hot all of a sudden. His entire body seemed to give off heat, more so than usual, and your stupid mouth kept going, revealing every stray thought in your brain. “Oh, wow, you’re really warm. You’d make an excellent bedmate on a cold night.”

“I…” Heat found himself at a loss for words. He let go of your arms but otherwise remained frozen, and you wondered if he was picturing the same thing you were–the two of you curled up together, bodies pressed close, lazily breathing in each other’s scent. Maybe your hands would start to wander…

“Sorry. Forget I said anything.” You looked away, unable to harbor the thought while also meeting his eye, nervously rubbing your arm where he had been touching you. “Um, good fight, yeah? Maybe I’ll pin you next time. That would be an exciting change.”

Again with unintentionally making things worse. The sight of Heat’s Adam's apple bobbing with his swallow finally spurred you to leave, not wanting to twist yourself up in unnecessary desire any further if you could help it.

You were, to be honest, caught off guard by your attraction. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise–you knew what you liked, and they all fit the bill in their own way–but you had joined the crew during a grieving period. At the time, and for a long while after, you had felt nothing toward the crew, much less interest. The feelings snuck up on you as you came out of your shell, and they were getting increasingly harder to ignore.

The Victoria Punk anchored in a secluded cove one hot day, and most of the crew opted to go for a swim. You kicked off your shoes carelessly in your eagerness to join, each one landing on a different spot on the pile the crew left behind. Killer went to retrieve them, going to line them up neatly with the rest–one of his odd, compulsive habits–and the rare sound of his huff of suppressed laughter made you pause, his deep voice speaking up a second later. 

“What the hell is this?”

You turned around to see him holding up one of your shoes. Killer had bulked up significantly in the time since you’d set sail with the Kid Pirates, and the sight of the comparatively small item in the palm of his hand was, to be fair, a little ridiculous.

“My shoes?” You narrowed your eyes, having a feeling you knew where this was going and not caring for it at all.

“No way your feet are this small.” His head turned to you, mask tilting down, and you knew he was looking at your feet. You felt a strong urge to cover them, which was dumb–why should you feel shy about your feet, of all things? But Killer had inadvertently found something you were self-conscious about.

“Whatever! Stop looking, you weirdo.”

Killer was usually hard to read, even after knowing him that long. But right then, you couldn’t help but feel like he was enjoying getting a rise out of you, because he continued. “These are shoes for ants.”

“Shut up, Killer!!” You snapped, face flushing warm. “They are proportionate to my height, thank you very much! F–” You stopped yourself before a ‘fuck off’ slipped out, mindful of your rank. He wouldn’t appreciate the disrespect.

Killer noticed, though, as astute as ever. “What was that?”

From the tone of his voice, you could tell he was only messing with you, not actually upset. That only made it worse, though, your chest getting tight in response.

“Nothing! You didn’t hear anything.” You crossed your arms in a subconscious attempt to cover yourself, feeling exposed even though your swimsuit wasn’t revealing.

Another brief huff was audible from under his mask, and then Killer set down your shoe and approached you. He didn’t stop until he was fairly close, only a few inches separating your bodies, and you resisted the urge to step back, heart thumping in your chest as you looked up at him.

Killer rested a hand flat on top of your head, like he was measuring your height. You barely reached the top of his chest. In fact, you were at the perfect height to shove your face between his giant pecs, a thought that your brain took off with at an alarming speed before you could hope to suppress it. 

You made a face at him, trying very hard to look annoyed rather than affected.

“I suppose it makes sense,” Killer hummed, “given you’re so tiny.”

“I am not! I’m not even the shortest one on the crew!” you protested. “Of course everything would seem small to you! You’re stupidly huge.”

“Stupidly huge?” Killer repeated, that edge of amusement never leaving his voice.

“Yes,” you grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off your head, and paused at the sight of it. It was as big as Kid’s. Without thinking, you raised your other hand to press against his, comparing the size directly. “S-See? Look at these–these flippers of yours.”

Killer huffed again. You wondered why he never laughed outright, but it still made your heart pick up speed. Your hand looked like a child’s compared to his, each of his fingers an inch longer and far thicker–do NOT think about that right now, you thought sternly, desperate to keep your imagination under control. You could not ignore how the rough skin of his palm was pleasantly warm, though, nor how he curled his fingers over yours, calloused fingertips covering your nails.

There was a heat on your skin now that had nothing to do with the weather. You were quite literally in the process of losing your cool, which naturally meant running your mouth further. “I can’t believe the oven mitts in the galley even fit you,” you jabbed, drawing your hand away. “Were they custom-made?”

“You sound jealous,” Killer retorted, lowering his hand. “I think you just hate being short.”

You looked him up and down, and–heaven help you–before you could stop yourself, your gaze settled between his legs as you audibly stated, “Not always.”

Killer went quiet. You went quiet. The silence hung between you awkwardly, while you felt like your brain was coming to a rapid boil.

It was suddenly far too hot.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. And then turned, bolting straight for the port side of the ship and flinging yourself into the ocean, nearly taking out a crewmate because you didn’t look first.

Even with Killer’s face perpetually concealed, you couldn’t look at him for a week straight after that.

Your filter never really returned, which wasn’t usually a problem for you. The Kid Pirates were as crass a crew as any. You didn’t care about being suggestive, normally finding it funny more than anything else–but when it happened around those four, you would get uncharacteristically flustered, and attempting to hide it often led you to digging the hole deeper. Alcohol only made it worse, and there was enough of it going around each night to keep leading you to compromise your plans of keeping your distance.

When a party on the deck threatened to overstimulate you, you retreated to the crow’s nest, ascending carefully to minimize the loss of rum from your mug. Some still spilled out, but by the time you made it inside, you were pretty satisfied with your achievement, especially considering your current inebriation.

Unfortunately, the crow’s nest was already occupied. Fortunately, it was only Wire–one of the more preferable people to run into at the moment, considering his laid-back attitude and soft-spoken manner. He was bent over slightly where he sat in order to fit into the small room, his head grazing the ceiling, the horns of his hood folded down cutely.

“Ey, Wire,” you greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Wire looked at the mug in your hand and chuckled. “You know, climbing the mast drunk, while clinging to your booze, and not falling off–that, more than anything, really brands you as a pirate.”

“Who says I’m drunk?” You crossed the room, only swaying a little bit, and plopped onto the bench next to Wire. 

Wire paused. “Actually, you always speak so freely that I can never tell. Most of the time, anyway.”

“Hm. Probably not a good thing,” you mused.

“Is it? I kind of envy the way you so openly speak your mind.”

“Don’t. It’s a curse.” You grinned despite yourself. “But, for the record, I’m good and sloshed right now.”

“As am I,” Wire said, lifting up his own mug from where it rested on his other side. It was proportionate to him, the size of your head, large enough to hold over a gallon of liquid. “What brings you up here?”

“I could ask the same, what with you drinking alone.” You nudged his leg with your foot. “Things were getting a bit loud, so I needed a break, that’s all.”

“But you jam with the girls all the time?” Wire asked.

“Music noise and crowd noise are different,” you explained. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”

“Fair enough.”

“I usually don’t mind a little overstimulation,” you said thoughtfully, completely oblivious both to what you implied and to the way Wire subtly leaned toward you in interest, “but it’s worse when I’m drunk or high, so.”

Wire peered into your mug to gauge its contents, an easy task from his vantage point. “Are you that drunk?”

“Triple basted, as my friends back home would say,” you swirled the rum in your mug idly, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a Mesiban native, after all. Chaos is in our blood. We call ourselves ‘Messy’ for good reason.’”

Wire reflected your wry smile. “Do you miss them?”

“Of course! I think about them all the time.” You paused, smile fading as your fingers tapped on your mug. “When my friend was killed… I probably should have stayed home and grieved together with all of the rest. Have their support and support them in turn. And not, you know, impulsively join a pirate crew and wallow alone in misery for months.” 

Wire watched you stare into your mug for a moment, and then your smile returned full force as you looked up at him.

“But that’s okay!” you said cheerfully, “I would have never met all of you otherwise, so things worked out just fine in the end. I really feel like–and don’t laugh–I really feel like every person on this crew’s my friend, too.”

Wire’s smile widened. You certainly had come a long way over the last few years. He held his mug out to you. “To good friends.”

“Old and new,” you added, knocking your mug against his.

“Aye.” 

The thunk of the wooden mugs hitting each other was satisfying, and the deep drink you both took was even more so. You drained the rest of your drink in one go, then chucked the empty mug across the room.

“Ah, that’s good stuff. I feel fucking great,” you sighed, “now I just need a great fucking.”

Wire nearly choked on his drink, managing to get it down safely before he laughed. “Yeah?”

“Mm. Perfect way to wrap up the night. Drunk sex isn’t as good as high sex, but it’s better than no sex. Words of wisdom!” You waved a hand nonchalantly as your words slurred. “But I’m used to not getting any. Haven’t fucked anyone since I became a pirate. At this point, I’d be satisfied with the simple pleasures of a comfy blanket.”

Wire took in that information slowly, realizing that, for all your lewd dialogue, he had never actually seen you go hunting for flings when they were docked. He perked up at your last sentence. “Oh, are you cold?”

“Yeah.” Despite the alcohol in your system, you tended to run cold, and now that you had settled, you could feel the light chill in the air even from within the crow’s nest.

Wire wordlessly held open the side of his cloak, offering to share in his warmth.

Ordinarily, you would have hesitated, double-checking with him if it was okay. With your current blood-alcohol content level, however, there was no shame nor shyness to be had. You scooted over until you were sitting right up next to him, thighs touching, and he closed the cloak around you, enveloping you in the comfort of both his warmth and his scent.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much,” you leaned against him. “Thanks.”

His arm around your shoulders was solid and soothing, and you felt yourself melt into his body heat. He had a lot of it to go around, given his size. Your drunken thoughts began to charge away from you now that you were snuggled close to his body. As the tallest member of the Kid Pirates, he made even the biggest guys on the ship look tiny, much less yourself. Wire absolutely towered over you, easily twice your height. When you were both standing, you were at eye level with his crotch. You could have sucked him off while standing, a thought that occurred regularly, even after all this time. You never got used to it. But, god, would it even fit in your mouth? Was he proportionate? What if–

“You’re staring,” Wire noted, though he didn’t sound bothered.

You realized you had been staring at his crotch for a solid minute now. However, once again, all traces of shame had been replaced by booze.

“Women get objectified all the time. Now you know what it feels like,” you joked. “I’m evening the playing field.”

You could feel the rumble of Wire’s chuckle through his torso.

“Also, I bet it looks nice,” you continued. “I bet you got a job-hunting dick.”

Wire paused. “Job-hunting?” 

You pulled your gaze away from his crotch to meet his eye, a mischievous spark in yours. “Yeah. You know… Because you fill someone out, like an application.”

Wire laughed, accidentally hitting his head against the ceiling with how he threw his head back. He winced, still giggling, rubbing the top of his head while you apologized.

“Don’t apologize. I like that. ‘Like an application…’ Is that something your friends back home say?”

“Actually, House said it,” you grinned at his look of surprise, “and it’s stowed away in my head ever since.”

As Wire finished his drink, he wondered if he knew less about his crewmates than he previously thought. Setting the mug down on his other side, he looked down to see that you were watching him, focused on his eyes this time. 

“Have you really been celibate this whole time?” he asked.

“Yeah. I don’t like hooking up with strangers.” You shifted, settling further into him. “It was easier back on Mesiba. Had a small network of fuckbuddies, and people could vouch for their acquaintances. Mesibans have a reputation for promiscuity for good reason, but we took care of each other.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“It wasn’t perfect, but I had my needs met,” you shrugged. “There are downsides to a culture like that, though. I lost my virginity earlier than I probably should have. And I might be a little too used to going out of my comfort zone in bed. But it’s fine, no big deal. Most of the memories are good ones.”

Wire hummed, but didn’t respond. His gaze shifted upwards in thought, and didn’t come back down until you nudged him again.

“What about you?” You asked. “I mean, a guy like you? Mr. Tall, dark and handsome? I bet you were rolling in bitches on your home island.”

“Rolling in ‘em?” Wire smirked to himself, and you wondered if he was also thinking about past dalliances. “I guess I’ve had my fair share of encounters. Enough so to consider myself experienced.”

This time, you went quiet in thought, and the silence that stretched between you was relaxed and cozy. Despite the myriad of unholy scenarios now running through your head, you still could have fallen asleep right there, wrapped in his coat and cuddled up close. A minute later, his deep voice broke through, something you could feel as much as hear with your head resting on his torso.

“You think I’m handsome?”

The question had an immediate effect on your body, your stomach doing a funny little flip while your heart picked up speed. It skipped a beat entirely when you peered up at him and saw the way he was looking at you now, eyes somehow both dark and burning.

Would you have lied if you were sober? You weren’t sure. You were never the shy type–until those damned four–but you were trying not to get too close. Alas, you were currently as drunk as a fish swimming in a lake of booze, and could be nothing but honest. 

“Yeah, I do,” you admitted.

Wire glanced away for a moment, smiling. “What a coincidence.”

“Hm?” You relaxed somewhat when his eyes left you, only to tense up when they met yours again.

“I think you’re cute.”

The heat that flushed through your body could have been blamed on the alcohol, but the force with which your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs could not. You were almost afraid that he’d be able to feel it. Not that it mattered–you were sure your face was an open book. His thigh, as big as your entire torso, pressed lightly against yours. For a second, you didn’t know what to say. Then you returned his smile, though yours wasn’t nearly as confident.

“That’s a relief. I get self-conscious sometimes.” You looked away, now shy even in spite of the alcohol–he just had that effect on you. “Hopefully I’ll remember that in the morning.”

With one massive finger under your chin, Wire gently turned your head to look back up at him.

Your breath caught in your throat. Wire leaned over you, filling your vision, probably not intending to block out the rest of the room, but unable to help it with his size. It meant you could see nothing but him now. Smell nothing but him, with his cloak wrapped around you. He bent further, getting closer, and you vaguely wondered if it hurt his back given the distance between the two of you, but if it did, he didn’t complain. He just kept getting closer.

“Really cute,” Wire murmured, his face now inches away.

You could barely hear him over the sound of blood roaring in your ears. Wire’s other arm was still slung around your shoulders, and he rubbed your arm slowly, leaving goosebumps. His finger never left your chin as he closed the distance.

Wire’s lips pressed against yours softly. Your entire body seemed to ignite, every cell alight and buzzing all at once. His lips were as warm as the rest of him, but what struck you was how gentle he was, kissing you so delicately it made you dizzy. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered shut, and when you felt him start to pull away, you followed. Now certain you wanted it, Wire found your lips again.

Your hands came up to hold his face, just in case he was thinking of pulling away again, your thumbs tracing the markings on his cheeks. Wire sighed into your mouth, and the tiniest moan escaped yours. He hadn’t even used his tongue, but you were suddenly aware of the growing wetness between your legs–something that never happened to you from just a dry kiss.

The realization was sobering, a voice screaming in the back of your head now: Stop! You’re too close! This is all temporary, remember?!

You broke away from the kiss, eyes opening to see that Wire had never closed his. Had he watched you the whole time? There was a slight panic in your mind now, along with two certainties now made clear: 1. It was too late to deny it–you had feelings for your superiors, and 2. If you stayed there, you were absolutely going to fuck him.

That was a line you couldn’t let yourself cross. It was in the interest of protecting yourself: Getting too close only to have to leave would have hurt, simple as that. But, god, the way he was looking at you now, with a slight sense of awe and pupils blown wide. He wanted you, maybe as badly as you wanted him.

Before you made a decision you’d regret, you stood up, taking a step back. Now away from the cover of his cloak and the warmth of his body, the coolness of the air only contributed to the prickle of goosebumps on your skin. Your hand came to touch your lips, still tingling with the sensation of his.

“Um,” you said dumbly, then tried again, “Wire... Thanks for the chat. I have to, uh. Go to the bathroom...”

It was with the willpower of a thousand Buddhist monks that you forced yourself to leave, not looking back, afraid to see his expression.

You could only pray that he had drunk enough that he would forget about it the next morning. You certainly didn’t, the memory of the kiss fresh in your mind when you next opened your eyes. But Wire never brought it up again, nor did he treat you any differently, leading you to think that he must have. You tried to ignore the disappointment that arose–it was for the best, you told yourself.

You put more effort into staying emotionally distant after that, but it was difficult. Staying in an enclosed space for weeks at a time meant there was no avoiding those four. And aside from them, there was no doubt that the rest of the crew considered you a friend as much as you did them. Vicious battles with other pirate crews or Marines, perilous weather, long hours of work–nothing was able to drag down your mood for long, because at the end of the day, you had fun. It was just fun to sail with them, simple as that. 

You were enjoying yourself enough that you almost forgot about your revenge, your reason for joining Kid the first place, until the day came when it stared you in the face. You heard from the natives of the island you had docked at about the other crews currently there, and the name spoken of that pirate, your friend’s killer, was like ice on your skin and in your heart. Finally, after all those years, you would have your opportunity.

You found him. Both crews were there, but this was personal–you wanted to face him one-on-one. He agreed, the cocky look on his face a familiar indicator that he was underestimating you. That was fine. It would only make things easier. You didn’t need an epic battle, you just needed him to die.

With your trusty knives sharp and ready, and your heart crying out for blood, you fought him. You were far stronger and faster than you had been when you first left your home island, a result of the frequent training with the Kid Pirates. The pirate was strong, but not nearly strong enough. When it became obvious he was going to lose, he cowardly called out for his crew. For a moment, seeing the swarm of pirates rush to his aid, you thought you would die there. Then, to your surprise, the Kid Pirates surged forth to intercept them, letting you finish your fight without interruptions.

You slayed the man who killed your friend. Those of his crew that were still standing, now demotivated at the sight of their dead captain, made a hasty retreat. And as you stood there, panting, blood dripping from your knives, you realized that the mission was finally complete. You no longer needed the Kid Pirates. It was over.

Kid approached you. And you? You cried like a bitch, tears streaming down your cheeks at the thought of finally saying goodbye. It was the first time you’d ever cried in front of them like that, and it was not a pretty cry, either.

Kid leaned over you, like he did when you first met. But this time, he was wearing his unique look of annoyed concern. “You got what you wanted after all this time,” he said gruffly. “Why the hell are you crying?”

“I… I…” You fought to keep your voice steady. “I don’t want to leave! I want to keep sailing with you and the crew. I really,” you sniffed, “really enjoyed spending time with everyone!”

“Then stay, you big fucking crybaby.”

You wiped your face on your sleeve and peered up at him. “...I can stay?”

“Did you think you were getting kicked off?” Kid scowled. “You’ll always have a place onboard the Victoria Punk.”

That only made it worse, a fresh wave of tears pouring out, and you couldn’t find the words to respond, only a pathetic sob.

“So quit blubbering and pull yourself together, alright? This is embarrassing,” Kid said. “You’re a Kid Pirate, aren’t you? Act like it.”

Warmth spread through your chest, light and bubbly, a sense of camaraderie so strong it was almost euphoric. You smiled through the tears, the cry turning into a laugh of pure joy.

“Yeah,” you said, standing up straighter, “I am a Kid Pirate.”

The crew threw a party that night in celebration of your achievement. Seeing the reverie, them all having fun for your sake, made you emotional, and when they toasted to you, you cried again, earning their teasing. It didn’t bother you one bit. This was your life and these were your people now, and you wouldn’t change it for anything. You asked Hip, a former tattoo artist, for a certain tattoo later, once you were all sober, and she eagerly agreed.

As soon as the following day, you bore new ink. Situated in the middle of your upper back, right between your shoulder blades, was the Kid Pirates’ secondary jolly roger: Four inches across, a perfect circle of glittering black ink with a row of spikes, and a skull in the center. It wasn’t visible when you were dressed, as you liked to be able to blend in with the general population, but you couldn’t help smiling like an idiot whenever you looked at it in the mirror. Kid made it obvious that you had been one of them since the beginning, but this made it feel official.

The energy on the ship seemed different after that, but it might have been your imagination. You felt closer to everyone than ever before, after all. Maybe it was the symbol you now carried on your back. Maybe it was the memory of the whole crew rushing in to fight for you. Or maybe it was the fact that there was no more reason to keep your distance from those four, a thought that reared up with increasing frequency nowadays. Still, you kept it in your pants, so to speak, mostly because you were afraid of what you would do if you crossed that line. You weren’t sure if you wanted them to find out just how far your craving went, not wanting to appear desperate.

After circling the first half of the Grand Line, Kid decided a break was in order, and so the Victoria Punk headed for your home island to kick back. You were excited, naturally, eager to show the crew the very best Mesiba Island had to offer, local digs and spots that weren’t as well-known to outsiders. You were also planning something else, something you didn’t get to partake in much since you left home.

“I’ve been in contact with one of my buddies. I’m gonna hook up the whole crew,” you told Kid.

“What makes you think I’d smoke your hometown’s mid-tier garbage?” Kid griped.

You weren’t phased in the slightest, well-used to his attitude. “Oh Captain, dearest Captain. You have no idea what you’re in for,” you smirked. “My friend’s a Devil Fruit user! Some ability affecting plants, I don’t know the specifics. Produces nothing but gold, though.”

“Bullshit,” Kid said. “I bet he says that to drive up business.”

“She actually keeps that part quiet, to avoid trouble. But we’re close. So don’t tell anyone I told you that, okay?” You patted his shoulder.

Kid glared at your hand, but you didn’t move it until he replied. “Fine. I’ll judge it for myself, then.”

“We haven't gotten to smoke in a while,” you withdrew your hand, “same with most of the crew. If you’re not careful…”

“I know what I can handle, pipsqueak. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sure, of course. Whatever you say.”

Kid turned his glare to you, but you were already leaving, needing to write another letter to your dealer friend to get the goods prepared.

The first two days on Mesiba Island were less eventful, you taking the time to visit friends and family while the crew relaxed. On the third day, you had met up with your Devil Fruit-using buddy, and, as promised, returned with copious amounts of the highest-quality weed for everyone to enjoy. The crew stayed at one of your friend’s taverns, and you pulled aside Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire.

“Listen. There wasn’t enough of this particular strain for everyone, but I wanted to share it. Don’t tell the others, okay?”

You had gotten a nice deal on rooms from your friend, and the crew had splintered into various groups to partake in the drugs. It didn’t take much convincing for the four to join you in a separate room, curious about the special strain. You pushed the bed to the side and dragged out extra chairs, arranging them in a circle.

Almost everything had been set up ahead of time. Bottles of water and snacks lined the small table in the middle of the room, along with a rolling tray, an ashtray, and all the papers and tips you could possibly need. You put on gloves before grinding up the bud, chatting while you worked.

“It’s okay to smoke in here?” Heat asked.

“Remember what island you’re on,” you said, sprinkling the herb on the blunt wrap you were currently working with. “Not only is it okay, but we’re going to hotbox the room.”

Kid eyed the row of perfectly rolled blunts that you had already finished preparing. “You were a regular stoner, huh?”

“Have you considered that maybe I’m just good with my hands?” You glanced at him while licking the blunt wrap, which might have been a mistake, because he stared in a way that made your heart skip. You folded the blunt wrap closed. “But, yeah, I used to smoke all the time.”

“What’s so special about this strain?” Wire asked.

“It’s my favorite! Best of the best out of what my friend grows,” you smiled proudly as you dried the blunt with your lighter. “A well-balanced hybrid with a good flavor. Really nice, lofty high without knocking you out too much to enjoy it. Not that the crew got anything mid! This stuff is just even better, but she only grows it in small batches. I bet it’ll even chill you out, Kid.”

Kid shot you a look that you ignored while Wire nodded, saying, “I see. What’s it called?”

“Magenta Mountain.” You set the finished blunt at the end of the row to finish drying. The first ones were ready by now.

You plopped into your chair, lit the first blunt, and made sure it was burning evenly before taking a small hit to start with, to adjust to the feeling of smoking again. It didn’t take long, the hot smoke in your throat and lungs pleasant rather than irritating, and your second hit was deeper. You exhaled slowly, watching the milky smoke curl and expand, then coughed a few times before passing the blunt to your right, where Killer sat. Next to him was Kid, then Heat, and completing the circle, on your left, was Wire.

You expected Killer to lift his mask an inch, like you’d seen him do occasionally for certain foods. Instead, he stuck the blunt in one of the lower holes of his mask to take the hit, and when he exhaled, smoke came out of all the holes in the mask.

“Once the blunt’s gone around a few times,” you said, “that’s gonna be hilarious.”

“It’s hilarious now,” Heat grinned.

“You’ll get over it,” Killer said, passing the blunt to Kid.

“Just don’t get mad if I laugh,” you said.

“I won’t.”

You debated lighting a second blunt and having two going around at once, but ultimately decided against it. There was no rush, as the rooms were rented out for the entire night. Conversation started to flow, interspersed with the occasional fit of coughs, and by the third time the blunt passed your hands, you were starting to feel its effects. The first thing you noticed was the warmth around your eyes, gradually spreading to the rest of your face, and then to your entire body.

“How’s my hometown treating everyone?” you asked, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it onto the bed behind you.

“No complaints here,” Heat said before taking a large hit off the blunt, and you watched with some fascination. Every hit he took was a huge one, and he never coughed once. It must have had something to do with his fire-breathing ability, being used to smoke.

“I liked the restaurant from yesterday,” Killer remarked.

“Oh, you mean Papa’s? I thought you would. Their pasta rules.” You paused, remembering something, then snickered.

“What?” Kid asked, his tone already far less harsh than usual.

“It’s fucking stupid,” you grinned, “but, growing up, my friends and I would call it ‘Daddy’s’ as a joke. Someone would order spaghetti and meatballs, and we’d immediately pile on about them having ‘daddy’s balls’ and whatnot.”

Kid must have been feeling it now, too, because instead of rolling his eyes like he usually would, he cracked a smile.

“Told you it was dumb.” You leaned back in your chair–no, you melted into it. There was a haze in the air now, thick smoke hanging around the room as you hotboxed it further and further. There was also a haze in your head. Different from the kind you would get from alcohol, this one made you feel light and floaty.

The weed was well established in your system now. There was a slight head rush at first that had since settled, leaving you with a gentle sort of drifting feeling. Your heart rate picked up slightly, even as your breathing slowed. A sense of calm settled over you, both in your head and in your body. Muscles loosening up, you relaxed further, everything seeming to move a little bit more slowly. Your senses seemed to heighten, particularly your sense of touch. You could feel the air itself wrapped around your skin, like you were underwater without the water. A faint, soothing pressure.

You didn’t feel the world around you. You experienced it.

Along with the physical sensitivity came an almost spiritual one. Not in the religious sense, or even in the out-of-body sense, but in the way you felt connected to your surroundings. The pressure of your feet against the floor was grounding, and when you closed your eyes, you felt like you were a part of the entire island. When the others talked, you felt connected with them too, like you were locking onto their energy. That closeness was one reason you loved smoking with friends, so it was nice to share it with them, but it wasn’t your favorite thing about being high.

The best thing, you thought, was the way your negativity seemed to dissolve. Fears and doubts subsided, making way for a simple appreciation of existence. It seemed more important to focus on enjoying things in life rather than lamenting the broken state of the world.

You looked around the room and took in the state of your companions. Everyone except Killer had settled back into their chairs, the latter instead leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. But you could tell that even Killer was unwinding. Your gaze slid over to look at Heat, and when the two of you made eye contact, his eyes widened.

“Your eyes are really red,” Heat said.

“Everyone’s eyes are red, my guy,” you replied, then glanced at Killer. “Well, Killer’s might not be. We’ll never know.”

You and Heat giggled.

“And I’ll never tell,” Killer said solemnly.

That got everyone laughing, you covering your mouth until the fit calmed.

“When I first joined the crew,” you nodded at Killer, “I was dying to know what you looked like under the mask, but I’m over it now.”

“No, you’re not,” Wire accused.

You were a bit taken aback that he read you so easily. “No, I’m not,” you agreed.

Kid waved his right hand vaguely. “You’re not missing out on anything. He’s an ugly motherfucker.”

You gawked at Kid in shock, but Killer burst out laughing, the first time you’d ever heard him do so, head hanging down and shoulders shaking. It was a weird but adorable laugh, and you calmed down–it seemed that sort of thing was fine if it was coming from Kid.

“No way,” you said, relaxing once more. “I bet he’s cute.”

Alcohol made you honest due to a lack of judgment. Weed made you honest because you didn’t care otherwise. You knew what you were saying and it was okay because the world was good, and your friends liked you and all that mattered was being in the moment.

“You sound so certain,” Killer said once he caught his breath, a playful lilt to his tone lingering from his laugh.

“I can feel it in my gut,” you said assuredly.

“I could have a facial scar.”

“Kid has a facial scar, and he’s cute.”

Kid looked at you in surprise, and where you would normally smile back with your high confidence, you now deftly avoided eye contact as you were rapidly becoming aware of a new effect of the weed on your body.

Sometimes weed had the effect of raising your libido, and Magenta Mountain had occasionally done so in the past. Maybe it was the increased circulation, you didn’t know. You had considered that it might happen, but it was never enough to be distracting, so you hadn’t been worried. The rest of the effects of the weed were so nice, it was well worth the discomfort of possibly being a bit aroused in the presence of others, you had figured.

But you were not a ‘bit’ aroused. You were burning up, slowly but surely, tingling and hypersensitive all over until there was a growing dampness between your legs. And the others around you were all men you had a raging, years-long crush on. Beneath the carefree optimism of the high was the dawning sense that something was off.

“This shit is amazing. What did you call this strain?” Heat asked, plucking the weed container from the table to look at the label.

“Magenta Mountain.”

“Huh…” His squinty eyes narrowed further. “This says something else.”

“What?”

Heat tossed the container to you. You fumbled it in your intoxication, bouncing it between your hands until it clattered to the floor. The others laughed, and you did too as you reached down to pick it up. Your laughter died as you read the label.

‘Red Sky At Night.’

A weight settled heavily in your stomach as you realized what’s been happening: your friend gave you the wrong strain. Not only that, but you were very, very familiar with what you–and the others–had been smoking all this time.

‘R-SAN,’ as you and your friend had dubbed it, was specifically designed to increase arousal, focusing on blood flow and sensitivity far more than other strains. You knew this because you were the one your friend used as a lab rat when developing it. The information sank in slowly as it dawned on you–you’d unintentionally given you and your superiors a mild aphrodisiac. And you, as the one it was tested on, would be affected by it the most heavily.

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up. The others were looking at you with some concern.

“You good, or did we just smoke the wrong weed?”

“We’re good!” You replied a little too quickly, voice a little too high-pitched. “She gave me the wrong strain, but it’s fine. I mean, I feel fine. Do you feel fine?”

Heat and Killer shrugged, Kid grunted an affirmative, and Wire nodded.

“I will admit,” Kid said, “whatever this is, it’s some pretty good shit.”

You lifted your chin. “T-Told you so. My friend grows good herb.”

The others lounged in their seats quietly, soaking in the high. Meanwhile, you wanted to scream. The current blunt in rotation was the third one of the night, and you had already smoked too much to be able to come down anytime soon. Not to mention there were four more blunts left that the others would likely want to go through. That meant a lot of time stuck in your worked-up state. If you rejected any more, would it be suspicious? Especially after you went to the trouble to set all this up? You weren’t sure how much more you could tolerate. Already, you wanted to run off and touch yourself until you had sated the blazing urge inside you.

It was imperative, for the sake of your sanity, that you did not let your imagination run away with you.

You tried to think about tame things, and not how you could feel your pulse between your legs, or how wet you were already, or how attractive the men you were sharing space with were. At the least, it was easy to be introspective when high, so you were able to force your thoughts into the sentimental, rather than the physical. You thought about the warmth of your friends–not that kind of warmth, damn it–but how the way they treated you changed since you first met them. Yes, focus on that. Focus on the beginnings, how initially standoffish everyone was. You considered the time when you first met the crew. There had been something odd about your battle with the First Mate…

“Killer,” you said, “remember when we first met? How we fought?” You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side, exposing your shoulder to show the scar that ran from there to your clavicle. At 6 inches long, it was your biggest scar, but you didn’t hold it against him. Focused on Killer, you missed the gazes of the other three settling on your bare skin.

“Yeah,” Killer replied.

“You were going easy on me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Until you stabbed me.”

That was what you had suspected. The sudden increase in his speed during the fight didn’t make sense otherwise. You tried not to sound smug. “Why is that? Why didn’t you try to kill me, Killer?”

“I almost took your head off,” Killer said plainly.

“No, I’m talking about before I stabbed you. You held back,” you pressed.

Killer paused. “...You want the truth?”

“Yes?” You sat forward, intrigued.

“When you approached us years ago,” Killer interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, “your eyes were all swollen like you’d been crying for hours. I assumed it was over the friend you wanted revenge for–I realized you came straight to us not long after you’d found out. That kind of determination, that kind of love for a friend, it’s something I value in an ally. That’s why I hesitated.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, unexpectedly touched. That was honestly very sweet, so much so that it was making you self-conscious, so you added a playful, “guess that all went out the window after my knife slotted between your ribs, eh?”

“Mostly,” Killer said. “I was kind of into it, though.”

Your eyes widened, and you grinned nervously. “Shut the hell up. No you were not.”

Wire chuckled, a deep sound that practically gave you goosebumps in your current state. “Well, knives are sexy, and Killer has a ridiculously high pain tolerance, so I can see it.”

No matter what you did, it seemed that the conversation kept circling back to indecent places. You mentally floundered for a moment before quickly spouting, “Too bad for you guys. Killer got soft, and now you’re stuck with me.”

Killer’s head snapped to you at the accusation, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the weight of his glare. You met it (kind of) in challenge. Despite the slight sense of warning you were getting, you continued to run your mouth.

“You could have killed me if you really tried, you know–back then, you completely outclassed me.”

“I still completely outclass you,” Killer stated.

Your look of indignant shock sent the other three into a laughing fit, and your face burned in embarrassment. Even high, you still had your pride as a fighter, which was now thoroughly bruised. “Excuse me?” you fumed. “I’m way stronger than I was years ago! I can fucking take you!”

Killer stood up suddenly, the warning in your head becoming a full-on alarm when he stalked over to you. You scrambled to your feet, but the weed slowed your reaction speed, and before you could do anything about it, Killer grabbed you.

Maneuvering you as easily as a child would a doll, Killer pulled you toward him so your back was against his chest, snaked one beefy arm under yours and around the back of your neck, and locked you into a half-Nelson, all in the span of a second. Then he stood up straight, and you were brought off your feet. With your head being pushed down, you couldn’t gain any leverage, kicking and struggling to no avail. He was a solid wall of muscle, and with only one arm, he had you completely helpless. After another fruitless minute, you gave up, going slack in defeat.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you mumbled, making the other three laugh again.

Point now proven, Killer set you on the ground. It took everything in you to keep your legs from shaking. Arm wrestling with Kid that one time had been bad enough. Being locked against Killer, totally unable to fight back? Feeling the firmness of his torso against your back, the power in his arm? You weren’t just wet anymore–you were completely soaked. You only prayed it wouldn’t get bad enough to show through your pants.

Sinking into your seat, you tuned out the others for a minute, all comments fading into the background. You tried to focus on breathing slowly, to ease the frantic pounding of your heart, to ignore the aching need between your legs. Zoning out was impossible with the raging sensitivity of your body, but you could at least ground yourself enough to make it through the evening. After this session, you would duck into a private room and take care of yourself. Just hold out that much longer, you thought.

They must have moved on from ribbing you by the time you focused once more. You hadn’t heard any of it, though you were sure they had. At least, Kid would have. Now he was talking about something else, finishing a story you had entirely missed.

“It was a pain in the ass,” Kid paused to take a hit, exhaling before he continued, “but right now? I don’t give a shit anymore.”

Hearing that, it was hard not to feel smug. That was the exact reason you had brought weed for everyone (and why you were in your current predicament.) All for the opportunity for your friends to relax.

“See, I knew it’d mellow you out, Kid,” you said, coming off a little too pleased with yourself and making him glower.

“You didn’t know shit. Mind your tongue,” he said, though the effect of his words was ruined by how tranquil he sounded. “You aren’t getting any free passes because of this.”

You hid a grin. He may have said that, but you knew him better. One of Kid’s better traits was to pay back what he was given, good or bad. You knew for a fact that he would go easier on you for a while for having set everyone up for the night.

“You don’t scare me, Kid. I know you care. Mr. You-will-always-have-a-place-onboard-the-Victoria-Punk.”

“Shut the hell up, Y/n,” he said with no real venom, although you did not miss the faint tinting of red on his cheeks. “Don’t make me put your valuables on the top shelf.”

“Go ahead,” you shrugged. “Wire will get it for me.” You turned your gaze onto Wire, batting your eyelashes cartoonishly. “Won’t you, Wire?”

It looked ridiculous coming from you, and had the desired effect of making him giggle, his face lighting up in a way that tugged at your heart. He smiled down at you fondly. “Sure.”

“Are you whipped?” Kid grumbled. “Don’t tell me you two fucked.”

“We did not,” you interjected before anyone made a dumb comment. Unfortunately, you thought to yourself.

“You did kiss me, though,” Wire said casually.

Oh–so he hadn’t forgotten. The man had no idea what kind of bomb that was to drop on you now, of all times.

“Wire!” you shouted. “That’s–”

“What?!” The other three yelled in unison.

“–not how it happened! You kissed me!” You tried to shout, but no one was listening because the other three, even Killer, had rounded on Wire for some reason.

“You kissed her?”

“I thought we had a deal, you scumbag!”

“When the hell was this?”

“Wait, hold on!” you cried. “What did you say?!”

They were not listening.

“With tongue?”

“You’re a fucking traitor, Wire.”

“Here I thought you were the one with self-control.”

“Will you morons shut the fuck up!” you roared.

They finally went quiet, all staring owlishly at you now.

“Did you–did you say you had a deal? What the fuck does that mean?” You said hotly, glaring at each of them in turn, awaiting an explanation.

Kid gave nothing away, but Wire was blushing, Heat looked guilty, and who knew what Killer was thinking.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” Kid said lightly, waving it off like it was nothing.

“I’m supposed to pretend like I didn’t hear that?” You were feeling distinctly less chill now, trying not to get swept up by the implications. There was no way. They couldn’t be…

“You’re better off not knowing,” Kid proclaimed. “You couldn’t handle it.”

That kind of pissed you off. He didn’t know what your life was like before you joined his crew, nor all that you had gone through to make it as far as you did. What you had to endure. Even what you were currently enduring. 

You licked your lips, thoughts slipping into the red again. “You have no idea what I can handle, Captain.”

Kid was stunned for a moment, not responding right away, and you could audibly hear the slow breath he sucked in. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

You swallowed and looked away quickly, heart pounding a dent inside your chest. “F-Fine. Whatever. Keep it to yourself. Like I care.”

Kid kept watching you, but you didn’t notice, your eyes fixed on the ground now as your imagination spiraled, thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the fuck had they been talking about? There was no way. No possible way they were all interested. Wire, maybe. He had kissed you, though he had also been drunk, so there was no guarantee he was even attracted. But all of them? All four? It couldn’t be. You had to be reading into it. Right? 

Right?

You pushed your feet into the ground, anxious for a sense of stability, trying and failing to tune the others out this time. Weed affected everyone a bit differently, but there were some constants. How much of what you were feeling was also being felt by them? If you felt a sense of connection, were they experiencing it as well? Could they sense your energy? 

Did they know? 

For a brief, terrifying moment, you had the paranoid thought that they could read your mind. Then you pushed it aside. It was impossible. All in your head. Just make it through tonight, and don’t think about it. Don't think about it.

But the universe was a cruel place, or maybe some god above was playing tricks on you. You were certain some higher being was laughing at your expense, because the conversation turned into a discussion of the mens’ past encounters. You could only sit there as Kid and Wire offhandedly commented on particular dalliances while the more reserved two opted to listen. They weren’t detailed, keeping things vague, but it didn’t matter. Your brain grabbed the barest descriptions and drew out a whole movie in your head, filling in the blanks and imagining the events in graphic detail. At first you pictured a random person as their partner, but then it immediately switched to putting yourself in their place, visualizing yourself getting dicked down by your crushes.

You dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to stay cool. It was a mental chess game to function at this point. You analyzed your every action with militaristic scrutiny, frantic not to give anything away, to not appear like the smoldering ball of lust you were. Was your posture too tense? Were you avoiding eye contact too much? Don’t act off. Don’t stay silent. Say something, join in the conversation.

“You guys don’t know how good you have it,” you said carefully, fighting to keep your tone neutral. “I can’t fuck strangers. I just can’t.”

Kid gave you a look of disbelief, which was fair, considering where you were from. “Wait. Have you really not had any since you joined us?”

“She hasn’t,” Wire answered for you, “she told me.” He shot you a devilish smirk. “Right before devouring my mouth.”

“Not how it happened!” You said brusquely, wanting to throttle him right then. “Shut up, Wire!”

“Why don’t you come over here and shut me up?” He challenged coolly, and the slight drop of his eyes when he looked at you told you he had glanced at your lips.

A fresh wave of heat flared under your skin, and you mentally cursed him. Why did he have to be like that? Why now? You scrambled to come up with a retort, but only managed a lame, “Like I could even reach…”

Wire simply bent over in response, hunching down until he was at your level, cheek resting on his fist and a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

Kid clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Knock it off.”

“What?” you snapped at him, not meaning to lash out but feeling like you were rapidly losing control–of the situation, of yourself, of everything. “Are you jealous or something? You want a kiss, too?”

“Oh, please, Y/n,” Kid said, unbothered. “If I wanted a kiss from you, I would have just taken it for myself by now.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the image his words conjured, and you gaped at him for a moment, for once in your life getting a taste of your own medicine as you were rendered speechless. Losing the mental battle of wills, you found yourself unable to maintain eye contact, giving away your timidity by looking away.

Kid studied your reaction, but by some grace, elected not to comment on it. Not that his choice of words was any better, because he asked, “You haven’t cum at all? For years?”

“Of course I have,” you huffed, “given the shared sleeping quarters, I have to take care of it in the shower like everyone else.”

“Is that why your showers take so long?” Heat stated more so than asked.

It was.

“No, it’s not!” you yelled, further revealing how flustered you were by the conversation. The others dissolved into laughter. Heat was grinning, pleased to see you on the receiving end for once. 

“Besides,” you muttered, “it only helps so much. Even with toys.”

“You have toys on the ship?” Kid asked, surprised for some reason.

“Half the crew does, Kid,” you said. “I bet you do, too, so don’t say stupid shit about it.”

Kid smirked, caught. “And it’s still not enough for you, huh?”

This had to be some kind of torture, because every time you thought you were in the clear, things continued to escalate. You would have fled the room if you could live it down, but alas, the others would never let you forget about it. Stuck in a mess of your own making, all you could do was continue the conversation.

“A toy can’t hold you or kiss you,” you said, ignoring the weight of their gazes. “Can’t talk you through it, can’t bite or suck on anything–oh, god damn it.” You dropped your head into your hands, fire billowing in your body as your thoughts surged into overdrive once again. Your fingers curled in your hair and you pulled lightly, seeking any sort of counter-stimulation to bring down the heat. “Ughhh.”

They all watched as you groused, lifting your head with a hopeless sigh. “Fuck, I need to get laid.”

“Dibs,” said all four of them at once. They all looked at each other in surprise, then burst out laughing, curling over themselves.

You experienced the unique sensation of being stunned silent while also wanting to scream, the burning of your flesh now that of embarrassment as well as need. Their laughs would actually be very nice if it wasn’t at your expense, and everything felt so crushingly unfair right then that you growled at them. “Really, guys? That was not an invitation.”

All bullshit, of course. You would have slept with any of them even without the influence of the weed. And now the pace of your heart kicked up, because they had confirmed what you had suspected, but couldn’t quite believe–they were interested. All of them. It wasn’t your imagination.

“Well then, Y/n,” Kid said, “consider this an invitation.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” Kid took a hit off the blunt, then leaned forward and exhaled the smoke in your face, the rude action only riling you up worse. “You want a big dick to ride? All you gotta do is ask.”

The fire inside you blazed larger and hotter, and you were aware of your breath coming out shorter. You dropped your gaze to the floor, gritting your teeth. After everything–all the years getting to know them, all the suggestive conversations, all the times you had craved them–after all the longing you pretended wasn’t there–now Kid was laying it out on the table, a clear offer to sate your desires. You could have what you wanted. All you had to do was accept.

Every cell in your body yearned for it, and yet a part of you still resisted, the part that still wanted not to appear desperate. You fought not to stay composed, masking your nervousness with attitude. “Who’s got the big dick, though?”

Kid scowled. “Watch it, little girl.”

The words had an immediate reaction deep in your gut, because Kid had never called you that before. He looked you in the eye while he said it, too, and you knew you failed to hide the momentary panic in your eyes. You ripped your gaze away, hands balling into fists.

At that point, you were so worked up and so wet that you couldn’t move without feeling it. The lightest shift in your seat had your lower lips sliding against each other slickly, the hypersensitivity from the high meaning you felt it like sparks. Even the fabric of your bra against your nipples was overwhelming.

“Are you okay?” Heat asked, and you realized you were trembling.

“All good,” you bit out.

“You’re sweating,” Wire said.

“And you were worried about me overdoing it.” Kid tsk’d. “Handle your shit, Y/n.”

“It’s handled,” you insisted. “I’m fine.”

“You sure about that, princess?”

He knows! You thought in a panic. If Kid’s words didn’t make that obvious, the curl of his lip certainly did. Your thoughts descended into near-hysteria, like a beehive had been upended in your head. Through the chaos was also the bemoaning thought that he was such an asshole, messing with you like this.

“Poor little Y/n,” Kid continued, smirking. “So pent-up. So many years without getting fucked.”

“Kid…” You nearly whined, voice quivering as much as your body was.

Movement in your peripheral vision made you glance to the side, just in time to see Killer reaching out to touch your arm, the contact like pure electricity on your skin. You jerked your arm away and grabbed his wrist, fingers unable to wrap all the way around, tightening your grip in warning.

“Do not–do not fucking touch me right now. Don’t tease me,” you hissed.

“You’re a real idiot sometimes, you know that?” Kid griped. Your resulting glare was offset by how you bit your lip, and Kid rolled his eyes. “I know you want it. That you’ve been wanting it. And yet you always hold yourself back. You’ll say the nastiest things while looking us dead in the eye and then just disappear. I don’t know if it’s some sort of pride you’re clinging to, or if you’re secretly shy underneath it all. But for fuck’s sake, Y/n, it’s getting hard to watch. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and just indulge? Let yourself have something nice, for once.”

Your jaw dropped further and further as he spoke, gawking at how he mercilessly called you out. Then you shut your mouth, swallowed a lump in your throat, and dropped your head, covering your face.

“You want to get fucked tonight, don’t you?” You heard Kid say.

“...Yes,” you mumbled into your hands, but the room was so quiet now that you were sure everyone heard.

“Then get over yourself, pick a guy, and go to another room.”

He made it sound so simple. 

Maybe he was right. Why were you making it more complex than it needed to be? Why couldn’t you just let yourself have this? But even if you succumbed to your desires, there was another problem.

“But… But, um,” you stammered. “How could I possibly choose? I lov–I like all of you!...”

A humiliating slip-up, one you expected them to tease you about, but there was only silence. You braved a peek at them from between your fingers. All eyes were on you–the pointing of Killer’s mask in your direction left no doubt–and then the guys glanced at each other, exchanging looks you couldn’t quite decipher, but that made something curl in your stomach anyway.

“Maybe,” Kid said slowly, gauging your reaction, “you don’t have to.”

You felt something change in the room. Like the air got heavier, though it could have been the smoke–although the group’s pace had slowed, the blunts never stopped their rotation. You weren’t sure which one you were on anymore, only that there was something else drifting alongside the undulating smoke, something that tingled like the air before a storm.

You lowered your hands so you could look at Kid clearly, keeping your mouth covered. There was no playfulness in his expression, only an ardent luster to the black of his eyes, the gold of his irises constricted into a thin band.

“Kid?” You only said his name, but the full question was implied. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

“I’m serious. You could strip down right here, and we’ll figure something out,” Kid said, “if you really think you can handle it, like you so claimed.”

The challenge went over your head. You were too distracted by how your fervent body roused at the notion, every aching cell screaming at you to accept, any opposing thought quickly drowned out by sheer, unbearable need. You had been gradually wound more and more taught throughout the night, and the last threads of resistance were beginning to snap. 

You lowered your hands, so your consent would be fully comprehensible, but you were cut off before you had the chance to respond.

“Wait,” Wire said, the concern in his tone grabbing everyone’s attention. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

The swell of disappointment within you threatened to be crushing. You couldn’t keep it out of your voice. “Oh… You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to, dummy,” Wire said, “but, Y/n. You’ve never slept with any of us before. To jump into doing something intense like this? While we’re all under the influence? There are risks.”

“I really don’t care at the moment.”

Kid smirked at your eagerness, but Wire wasn’t amused. “Have you ever been with multiple partners?”

“I’ve been in a threesome!” you said quickly. “I can handle it, Wire!”

“Mm… I dunno,” Wire considered. Heat passed the blunt to him right then, and the pause in which you had to wait for him to take his hit was agonizing. Wire watched the smoke he exhaled rise before meeting your eye again. “There should at least be a discussion first. About limits and stuff.”

“Please, I can’t wait anymore!” Keeping your voice down was its own trial. You could have cried from frustration. “I fucked up, okay? I got the wrong strain, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve been practically edging on the spot, and you four are just sitting there, all relaxed and having fun and unfairly hot…” You resisted the urge to cover your face again, but couldn’t help avoiding eye contact while admitting it. It surprised you, then, to hear who spoke up next.

“We could start slow,” Heat suggested, a blush coloring his face, “one person at a time. Discuss anything else as we go.”

You glanced at Wire hopefully, and found that everyone else was doing the same. In the back of your mind, you vaguely wondered why the decision seemed to hinge on Wire rather than Kid, but you didn’t question it in the moment.

Wire passed you the blunt, the mere slide of his giant fingers past yours as he did enough to make you shiver. He watched your reaction, then assessed the other three in the circle, one at a time. By the time he looked back at you, you had taken your hit, and your eyes met as the smoke flowed from your parted lips.

“Tch,” Wire’s shoulders drooped slightly in defeat. “Alright. If you’re gonna look at me like that. But at least choose a safeword.”

“I don’t care,” you said.

“I do,” he snapped, the stern rebuke going straight between your legs, “pick something.”

“Fine...” It was a struggle to come up with anything with the prospect of having them so close by, and you raced to think of something. The reason for your current state flashed through your head. “Red Sky?”

“Works for me. Everyone hear that?” Wire questioned, waiting for verbal confirmation from the other three before he nodded his approval.

You passed the blunt to Killer, pressing your thighs together in anticipation. “Um… How are we going to do this?”

Kid’s smirk widened, as fiendish as you’d ever seen it. “I think we should pass her around like a blunt.”

Once more, you found yourself gaping at Kid, slack-jawed at the lecherous idea. It was depraved, it was objectifying, and you were, truth be told, not the least bit opposed–you would have had them any way they offered at that point. Anything to ease the fever.

“Y/n,” Killer said firmly, making you tense, “come here.”

He had said it like a command, tone no different than if he were giving orders on the ship. You responded instinctively, drawn to Killer like a magnet, feeling as if your body wasn’t yours to control anymore. His mask dipped as you stood before him, looking you up and down.

“Sit.” Killer patted his lap. “Facing them.”

You swallowed and turned, perching on Killer’s knee. He grabbed your hips, making you gasp, and dragged you back until your back touched his chest, situating you directly over his crotch.

Killer’s hands never left your hips, your skin buzzing where he made contact, even through your clothes. His chin rested on your shoulder, deep voice murmuring into your ear. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. The other three leaned forward in their seats, making you realize rather belatedly that everything that was about to happen would have an audience. You had never been watched before, and you didn’t know how you’d feel about it. But that thought, and any others, promptly flew out the window when Killer’s hands started their slow slide up your body, curving to the front and cupping your breasts.

You pressed yourself back against his chest, breaths coming out shaky. He was only squeezing and massaging gently, but after everything you had to endure so far, as roiled as you were, it was enough to send pleasant little shocks throughout your entire body.

Little shocks immediately turned into powerful bolts as Killer started teasing your nipples, your body jerking in response. You were sensitive enough there without the weed factoring in–as high as you currently were, it was overwhelming.

“Ah! K-Killer!” You pulled at his hands. “Please, slow down! I’m extra sensitive there, and the weed makes it ten times worse, so you gotta go slow…”

“You are, huh?” Killer hummed, flicking a nipple just to make you yelp.

“I thought you could handle this, Y/n,” Kid taunted.

“Whatever, Kid! You can watch, but I don’t need your lip,” your snarl didn’t sound nearly as threatening when it came between breathy pants. “Wait your turn and–nhh!”

Killer chose to resume touching you right then, rubbing your nipples at an appropriately slower pace. The tingling went straight to your cunt, and you threw your head back onto his shoulder, whimpering.

“Better?” Killer asked softly, and at your hasty nodding, you felt his chuckle against your back.

As incredible as it felt, it only made the need worse, the burning of your flesh intensifying under Killer’s touch. You writhed in his lap, desperate for stimulation between your legs, but you weren’t at the right angle to grind your clit against anything, and Killer was pressing your torso to his to keep you in place. Held against him and unable to escape, you could only take it, able to feel the calluses on his fingertips even through a shirt and bra. Killer let out a pleased growl at the sensation of you squirming over his growing bulge, the sound making you clench around nothing.

“Damn,” Wire muttered. “Look at her writhe.”

The other three were now sporting obvious erections, Wire and Kid idly palming at themselves while Heat elected to just watch.

“It’s the weed,” Kid responded, smirking. “I’ve been half hard ever since the first blunt, but I didn’t think much of it until she got all cagey about the strain.”

“The name is obvious enough,” Heat agreed.

So Kid had you figured out all along. Go figure. You weren’t paying much attention to that right then, though, not under Killer’s cruel assault.

“Please, Killer,” you whined, “stop teasing!”

“Gotta make sure you’re ready, first,” Killer said. “None of us are average, Y/n. I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I’m ready!” You almost sobbed. “I–ah!–I promise, I’m wet!”

Killer paused, mask tipping down over your shoulder. “You don’t say.”

You followed his gaze (so to speak) to see a damp spot on your pants–you had soaked through both layers. “See? I told you, I’m ready!”

“Soon,” Killer assured, resuming his slow teasing of your chest.

Every time you thought you had adjusted enough to keep from making noise, Killer would switch it up, circling or skimming over the pert buds, drawing more whimpers out of you. He played you like an instrument, a steady chorus of your soft cries in time with his fingers, and the other three were as enraptured as if it was a song. All your nerves ablaze and still being denied what you needed, you looked to your audience for help. Kid and Wire weren’t moved by your plight, but as soon as you locked gazes with Heat, he rose to his feet as if you had called out to him.

Heat crossed the short distance and sank to his knees in front of you and Killer, resting his hands on your thighs.

“What happened to one person at a time?” Kid grumbled.

Heat ignored him, leaning in to kiss you but pausing before he made contact. “Can I–” he started to ask, but you grabbed his face and pulled him in the rest of the way, crushing your lips against his to really get across the kind of state you were in. Just to make sure he understood, you shoved your tongue past his lips. Heat’s small moan of surprise was muffled, but then he eagerly reciprocated.

Heat matched your pace, returning everything you gave him with equal passion, and you quivered in anticipation as his hands slid up your thighs. Instead of going between your legs, though, they went to the hem of your shirt, and as Heat moved to kiss your neck, you realized he hadn’t come to help anyone but himself.

“Heat?” you inquired.

“Lift your arms,” he instructed, ignoring your question.

“But–”

“Lift your arms.”

You clenched at the command, not expecting it from the normally laid-back man. He was still blushing, but there was an intensity in his tone that had you complying right away, though not without an irritated huff. Heat nipped at your neck as a reward for listening before he pulled your shirt off.

Killer’s mask touched the back of your neck like he was kissing it. “Kid’s gonna like that tattoo,” he whispered as he unfastened the clasp of your bra. You barely paid attention to the comment, helping him remove it and tossing it onto the nearby bed.

Heat stared, transfixed, at your breasts. When no one made a move to continue, you started to consider violence. “Heat…”

“You have cute tits,” Heat said.

“Whatever!” You were about to strangle him, and not in a sexy way. “Would you just hurry and–”

Heat cut you off by kissing your nipple, making you gasp, and when he took it into his mouth, your back arched into him. “H-Heat!”

Killer’s prior touches might as well have been through a heavy blanket. It didn’t compare to the wet warmth of Heat’s mouth directly on your sensitive bud, nor the velvety texture of his tongue running over it. You reached to bury your fingers in his hair, but then Killer grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your back. The ache between your legs magnified at the restraint, and you didn’t think it was physically possible to be any more worked up, but then Heat proved you wrong by starting to suck.

You twitched and writhed, pulling weakly against Killer’s iron-like grip, helpless under Heat’s assault. He switched from one nipple to the other, bringing his hand to play with whichever his mouth wasn’t currently on. It felt like live wires had been laid through your body, running straight to your cunt, making you want to cry with how empty you were. You clenched and flexed your pelvic floor muscles, desperate for sensation, and somehow, you felt something start to build, as steadily as if you had been playing with yourself. You had never come without touching your clit before, but now you understood how it was possible, your cunt so sensitive that clenching alone brought sufficient stimulation. But right when you thought you could see the peak, right when you were certain you could make it, the build stopped, leveling off and leaving you stuck. Even the scrape of Heat’s teeth against your nipple, though maddening, wasn’t enough to get you there.

“Please!” You cried out in frustration, on the verge of tears. “Please touch me, Heat, Killer, anybody! Please!”

“You’ve endured it for so long, haven’t you?” Killer said huskily, moving your wrists to one hand, resting the other on your hip and squeezing hard. “That’s okay. We’re gonna take care of you…”

You were about to snap at him that no one was taking care of shit, but your remark caught in your throat when Killer’s hand slipped under your pants and underwear, inching forward until he was finally, finally reaching where you needed it. His wide hand parted your thighs, going straight for your slit, the brush of him over your clit along the way making you buck.

“Wow,” Killer said as he felt the evidence of your need, everything between your skin and clothes down there a thick, slippery film. “I thought you were exaggerating about how riled up you were. But the weed’s really done a number on you, hasn’t it?”

There was no resistance when he penetrated you with a thick finger, and you bucked your hips again with a sharp cry. “Oh! Oh, fuck! Killer!”

“Never seen anyone this wet before,” Killer mused, stroking a few times before inserting a second finger. His thumb found your clit, rubbing in little circles.

Heat’s messy slurps combined with the squelches of Killer’s fingering only amplified the experience. After everything you had gone through, it didn’t take very long, especially with the two of them working together. Killer added a third finger and curled them insistently as he went, and you came hard a few seconds later.

You shut your eyes from the intensity, hips grinding furiously into Killer’s hand as you rode it out, whimpering with every wave that rocked your body. He never stopped probing his fingers against that spot, working you deftly through it until the fluttering of your walls finally stopped and you slumped against his chest, panting.

Heat kept on sucking on your nipple, the stimulation rapidly becoming overwhelming in the wake of your orgasm. “Heat–Heat, Heat!” With your head fuzzy with dopamine, you couldn’t form a better sentence, higher functions temporarily absent.

Luckily, Killer had been able to feel everything. He let go of your wrists to push Heat back by the shoulder, the pop of his lips disconnecting making you twitch. You twitched again when Killer pulled his fingers out.

The residual throbbing of your clit lasted longer than it ever had, aftershocks of an orgasm while high spreading through your body like lightning branching through your nerves. You didn’t open your eyes for a minute, chest heaving. When you did, the first thing you saw was Heat’s look of adoration. Behind him, Kid and Wire were burning holes through you with their gazes, both of them red-faced and awestruck. It dawned on you that you’ve cum in front of four guys. In front of your superiors. Your friends. And yet, instead of shame, instead of self-consciousness, the pulsing within you subsided and left behind a fervent hunger in its place.

Again. You needed it again.

Killer brought his hand to your mouth, fingers glistening with your slick. You parted your lips without hesitation, letting him in. The tang of your fluid on your tongue reawakened spent nerves, making you sensitive all over again. Killer let out a soft curse when you sucked, tongue sliding between his fingers to get every drop. Your eyes fell closed again, focused wholly on the act of cleaning up your own mess.

Killer peered down at your face and hummed. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at them.”

You obeyed, making eye contact with each of the other three while you sucked your slick off Killer’s fingers, fresh heat searing through your body at how they marveled at you. Kid had started stroking himself through his clothes with his flesh hand, his expression in particular full of dark intent.

“There’s a good girl,” Killer praised, “see what you do to them…”

You pulled Killer’s hand out of your mouth. “Killer,” you whined, grinding your ass against him in a clear signal to go further.

Cumming in Killer’s lap and sucking on his fingers had its effect on him, because he was harder than before, pressing stiffly into your ass cheek and breathing heavily by your ear. So it came as a shock when he raised his head and said, “Kid. You can go first.”

“Nah, Killer, you go ahead,” Kid said, waving his metal hand. “According to the sounds she just made, you earned it.”

“You go first. I know you’ve wanted this for a while,” Killer insisted.

“I don’t care who goes first!” you yelled, the revelation of Kid’s interest fading into the background in your desire. “For fuck’s sake, just whip it out!”

They all laughed at that, which only pissed you off further. Then Kid’s voice echoed across the room, sending a pleasant chill down your spine.

“Pass her here.”

Killer scooped you up and leaned over, holding you out to Kid like you weren’t a whole adult. The chairs were close enough together that Kid could reach you without getting up, merely holding out his metal arm and letting Killer drop you onto his palm. His arm didn’t even dip with your weight.

Kid tipped his hand suddenly so you fell into his lap, momentum throwing you against his chest and making you instinctively grab him for support.

“I get it, Y/n. You’re desperate. But you don’t have to grab me over it,” he jeered, and not for the first time in your life, you seriously contemplated striking your captain.

“Hold on,” Wire said, patting his pockets and frowning. “Does anyone have condoms?”

“Not an issue,” you said abruptly, “I’m set on birth control.”

“I thought you didn’t get any,” Heat asked, now back in his chair.

“There are other reasons to take birth control. It makes your menstrual symptoms less severe.”

“I knew that,” Wire said, sounding proud of himself.

”No one cares! Get on with it!”

Kid looked thoughtful, smile faltering as he deliberated over something. “...Wire may be right, actually.”

“What?” You stared at him.

“I mean, four guys, after you haven’t had a partner in years? It’s far too much. You could end up hurt.”

You searched his eyes, trying to figure out where this sudden change of heart came from. It was so unlike Kid that you didn’t even protest at first, bewildered.

“I wouldn’t want you to walk away from this with regrets, Y/n,” Kid said gravely. “You’ve come once already, so that should be adequate. End the night on a good note.”

“No! No, I can keep going! Please, please!” you bid urgently.

Kid’s somber look broke at your plea, his lip curling like he was trying not to smile, and you realized that he was messing with you. Arousal flipped into anger in an instant.

“You’re such a dick!” you cried. “I can’t believe you! I know you want it too, so stop fucking with me and start fucking me already!”

Kid’s infuriating smirk grew wider. “Beg for my cock.”

“Ugh! Fine, you jerk!” You ground your hips into his bulge to help make your point, face flushed hot as you glared at him. “Please, Kid! I–I need you. I need to be violated in the way that only a ruthless pirate captain can.”

It was kind of stupid, but Kid was vain enough that the words got to him anyway, his nostrils flaring with the steep breath he took. “That easy, huh? I always knew deep down, you were a slut.”

You slapped him, hard. The slap echoed as the room fell quiet, and though Kid was momentarily stunned, you felt his dick twitch through his pants.

“You’re the one making me beg–” you started to say, but Kid grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in for a rough, possessive kiss. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth with his tongue, probing it deep to wrap around yours. You moaned into his mouth, grinding on him for some much-needed friction. Kid pulled back, but you followed, straining forward to kiss him again.

The fingers of his flesh hand curled into your hair, gripping tight and forcing you back off of him. The slight pain pulled another little moan out of you, and Kid grinned.

“One more time. Tell me how bad you need it,” he said huskily.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t,” you whined.

“Good girl.”

He prompted you to lift your hips so he could reach his pants, undoing them and finally, finally pulling out his cock. You pulled your own pants and underwear down before Kid could think to rip them, not keen on doing a bottomless walk of shame in front of the crew later. Kicking off the garments, you repositioned yourself over Kid. He groaned when you wrapped your hand around his thickness to line yourself up.

“Fuck,” he husked. “If your pussy’s as small as your hands…”

“Wait, Kid,” Killer interjected. “Make her face us.”

“Why?” Kid asked, but you had already started to turn around in his lap to comply with Killer’s wishes. Kid’s voice suddenly dropped low, heavy with interest. “Oh.”

“What?” You glanced over your shoulder, where Kid’s eyes were boring into the spot right below the back of your neck. You realized he had never seen your tattoo before. “Oh, my ta–ahh!”

Kid slid two fingers up through your slit, finishing with a little circle around your clit that made your legs weaken. “Now when did you go and get that done?” he murmured.

“Fewmonthsago,” you slurred. “Kid…”

He grabbed your hips, positioning you over his cock. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long if I had known. You’ve been dedicated all this time, haven’t you?” He guided you down slowly, thick cock parting you gradually.

You bit your lip and nodded, that aching within you finally eased. Kid’s grip tightened as your hips met, digging into your skin.

“Shit,” he cursed. “You’re really wet. Killer wasn’t joking. Now, face forward.”

You turned your head back to look at the other three. Everyone else had taken their dicks out at that point and were stroking themselves, Heat’s free hand holding a still-burning blunt. You glanced between them–all eyes were on you, making you burn up even hotter. Their gazes felt like a physical sensation on your skin. Your own gaze faltered, though, when a harsh smack landed on your ass.

“Ah!” you yelped, the sting both grounding you and riling you up worse.

“Captain, at least ask if she likes it first,” Wire admonished.

“She got tighter, Wire,” Kid responded, groping your ass cheeks. “I think she likes it just fine.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, starting to move. With your feet unable to touch the floor, you had to use your thighs to squeeze Kid’s lap and lift yourself up and down, but you had plenty of stamina to go at that point and a monstrous, intoxicated desire spurring you on. You set a quick, needy pace, fucking yourself on his rigid cock so he hit all the right spots, making whimpers slip out between your panting breaths. You rolled your hips whenever they met Kid’s, grinding him into your g-spot deliciously.

“Fuck,” Kid groaned, and smacked your other ass cheek, making you moan. “Look at you go, princess. I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t calm down.” He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in tightly, forcing you to stop. You cried out in protest, your pleasure mercilessly cut off. “Kid!”

Kid leaned in and kissed your tattoo, moving your hips up and down at a cruelly slow pace and ignoring your cries.

“Kid, go faster! Please!” you begged.

“No,” he said, and even without facing him you could hear the grin in his voice. “You have to earn it.”

“How?!”

“By being honest, for once.” He kissed your tattoo again, and this time let his tongue drag over the inked skin, making a shiver run down your spine. “Did I hear you correctly earlier, Y/n? You haven’t just been flirting with us for fun…” He pulled you down on his cock, holding your hips down and rolling his up into you. “You’ve caught some feelings as well, so say it again.”

“What do I say?” you whined, too needy to remember.

“You said you love us,” Wire said smugly, now in possession of the blunt.

“Oh!” you said, both in surprise and because Kid was fucking you slowly and deeply now. “I…b-but…”

“Shy now?” Heat chuckled.

“That’s so embarrassing, come on,” you protested, “just hurry up and go faster, Kid!”

Kid’s lips pressed to your tattoo again, and you could feel his lips curl into a smirk. “No.”

“I don’t think that pace is gonna change until you say it,” Killer mused.

“Fine!” you huffed, then lowered your voice. “I… I love you…”

“What was that?” Kid asked.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Killer said.

Wire grinned, and Heat shook his head. “Me neither.”

Your face burned. “I love you,” you said again, though it was still a bit quiet in your embarrassment.

“Louder,” Kid commanded, slowing his pace even further until tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Kid, please. I love you.”

“You can do better than that. Tell us how you really feel.”

“I love you!” you whined. Kid picked up his pace ever so slightly.

“And Killer?”

“Y-Yes! I love him too!”

“And W–”

“And Wire and Heat! All of you!”

“Say it again!” Kid smacked your ass.

“Ah-! I love you!” you cried it out, again and again, and Kid did not fuck you properly until you were screaming it. Only then did he give you what you needed, bouncing you on his cock fervently with his metal hand. Everyone watched, enraptured, three pairs of eyes on you, on your bouncing breasts, on the point where your body met Kid’s.

“My loyal girl,” Kid praised, tongue on your tattoo again, “you like getting fucked by your captain?”

“Yes!”

“Wanna be shared by everyone?”

“Yes! I’m, I’m gonna cum-!”

“Who do you belong to?”

“The Kid Pirates!” you cried.

“Good girl. Now, cum on my cock for everyone to see.”

You came hard, orgasm hitting you like a battering ram, making your body tighten and lock up. Kid held you down as you pulsed around him, cursing as he tried to keep himself from tipping over the edge along with you.

For a minute, there was nothing but the soft sound of slapping around you as the other three jacked off to the sight of your bliss. You went limp against Kid, panting.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Heat muttered. “So fucking hot.”

“Have some discipline, Heat,” Kid said above you, “you’re next anyway.”

“Ugh, I hate edging.” Heat let go of himself, holding his hand away.

“It’ll be worth it,” Wire said. “Don’t let the weed make you finish early.”

“Easy for you to say, Wire. You do this kind of thing all the time.”

As your fuzzy brain started to grasp cognitive thought once more, you wondered if that was why Wire seemed to be in charge here. You always knew he was kinky, but never realized just how much experience he had.

Killer, who’d been holding onto the blunt while Kid was occupied, now passed it to Kid, who took a deep hit before offering it to you. You held up your hand in refusal, needing to catch up on oxygen first.

“How you holding up, Y/n?” Wire asked.

“Fucking fantastic,” you said earnestly, making them all laugh.

“Who’s great idea was this, again?” Kid asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you said, shifting and dismounting off him, making him grunt from the stimulation. You pecked him on the lips, silently grateful that he had pushed you past your nervousness. “Thanks, Captain.”

Kid smirked proudly as you started to slide off his lap, and he grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking away. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re passing you around, remember?” With that, he pulled you back into him and picked you up, making you squeak in surprise, before stepping over to Heat and setting you down onto his lap.

Heat’s blush deepened as you immediately recovered and hooked your arms around his neck. He parted his lips when you leaned in to kiss him, his tongue sliding over yours, gently stroking and intertwining, making you moan sweetly. He started touching himself again, which you noticed once Heat started to gasp into your mouth.

“Heat, wait,” you said. “Let me.”

Heat moved his hand away, and you replaced it with your own. The feeling of something metallic and hard against your palm made you pause, pulling your hand away to look. Heat had his dick pierced, a frenum ladder–a set of parallel barbells going up the underside and stopping at the frenum.

“Oh, wow,” you said, running your thumb down the underside of his cock to feel the metal underneath. Heat groaned, his dick twitching. “Is it sensitive?”

“Yes,” he hissed, closing his hand around yours and making you start to jerk him off. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Says you! You were the one who tormented me earlier!”

“You look good when you’re needy,” Heat bit out, thrusting up into your hand. “I couldn’t help it. Now squeeze harder.”

“No, I wanna try something else,” you said, stopping. “I want to know what it feels like in my mouth.”

“Nope, sorry. I’ll come too quickly and have to sit out the rest of the session.”

You frowned. “Fiiiine. You’d better make up for it, then.”

Heat’s brows raised, then his eyes narrowed, and suddenly you felt as if you possibly made a mistake in your choice of words.

“Uh oh,” Wire said, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Make up for it?” Heat sneered down at you. “Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Heat,” you tried to placate him, but his tight grip on your hips told you that you were in trouble.

“Come here,” he snapped, pulling you to hover over his dick. “I don’t have a metal arm like Kid to toss you around with–so instead, you’re going to do what I say.”

It was so unlike Heat that you found yourself complying right away, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Or what?” you teased.

“Or we’ll find out your limits the hard way, regardless of what Wire says,” Heat lined himself up with your entrance, “I get the feeling you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“How should I know? I’ve never tried–oh…” You lost your words as Heat guided you to sink down onto his length. He was thicker toward the base, letting you feel each one of his piercings slide along your sensitive insides. “Oh, fuck, that’s–that’s good...”

Heat smirked. “Like the piercings?”

“Yes!” You rolled your hips to feel them move inside you, your eyelids fluttering shut. “Fuck.”

“Eyes on me, babe.” Heat instructed, and you snapped your eyes open to see him looking at you intensely, the hunger in his gaze sending prickles all over your skin. He slid his hands up your sides to your front, groping your breasts, pulling a moan out of you when he rubbed your nipples with his thumbs. You look down to watch him do it, contracting around him at the sight, and Heat corrected you with a harsh slap to your ass.

“Ah!”

“She does tighten up,” Heat grinned, his arm muscles flexing as he delivered a second firm smack.

“Heat!”

“Eyes up.”

You kept your eyes on him this time, even as he teased and tugged at your nipples. Gripping him tight, you rolled your hips again, the combination of the piercings and your chest being played with nearly making your eyes roll back. “Oh, fuck. Spank me again.”

Heat grinned. “Ask nicely.”

“Please!”

“Attagirl.” Heat smacked your other ass cheek, making you cry out. “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you!”

He chuckled. “You’re cute, you know that?” One of his hands snaked its way up your chest and around your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck.

Wire spoke up, his voice a firm admonishment. “Heat.”

“M’not squeezin’,” Heat said, pulling you in for another greedy kiss. You eagerly reciprocated, sucking on his tongue and making him groan. “Fuck…Come on, ride me.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. You planted your feet on the floor and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock, whimpering at the unique sensation of riding a pierced dick. Heat was already filling you up, to feel the barbells stimulating you on top of it was almost overwhelming in your intoxicated state.

“There’s a good girl,” Heat moaned. “Oh, fuck. Look at you.”

Heat fondled your chest as you rode him at a brisk, even pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit into him. You felt yourself rapidly approach the edge, until he pinched your nipple a little too hard, and the pain brought you out of it with a yelp.

“Ah-! Too hard, Heat,” you whimpered.

“See?” Wire said. “This is why you have to discuss these things. We really should have started by now.”

“Isn’t it too late?” Kid asked.

“No.”

“Where do we start, then?” Killer wondered.

“With what she wants out of this,” Wire said. “If she can even focus right now.”

You could not, especially when Heat chose right then to smack your ass again, which brought you right back to the edge. “Fuck, Heat!”

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Heat whispered huskily.

“Yes! I’m close!”

“That’s too bad–I want you to slow down.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” Heat lifted his legs so you could no longer reach the floor, your riding stopped in an instant.

“Ahh, no no no, Heat! Don’t stop!” you protested, trying to stretch your legs to reach the floor again, but he was much taller than you were.

“Only if you agree to slow down.” Heat said, massaging your breasts. “Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything, just let me keep going, please!”

“Then ride me, slowly, and pay attention to what we’re talking about.” Heat lowered his legs again, graciously letting you reach the floor. “Otherwise I’ll just stop again when you’re about to cum.”

You nodded, slowly working yourself up and down his shaft. It was torturous to go at that pace after all you had been treated to, but the moment you sped up, he would just stop you anyway.

The blunt was passed to Heat at that moment, and he took a deep hit. With his other hand, he pulled you closer to him by the neck, sealing his lips around yours. You followed his lead, inhaling as he exhaled, filling your lungs with smoke.

Heat didn’t force you to take his entire hit, knowing he could handle bigger lungfuls than you could, and you both exhaled at the same time. He passed the blunt to Wire and placed both hands on your face, pulling you in again for a kiss that tasted of smoke.

“You listenin’?” Heat asked. He was looking at you with adoration now, and you nodded, wanting nothing more than to please him. “Wire asked you what you want out of this.”

He went back to massaging your chest the way you liked, playing with your nipples more gently while you rolled your hips and whimpered, trying to think while being teased. Your brain was already high on weed and dick–what more could you want? If you could do absolutely anything more than this, what would you do?

A mental image suddenly came into your mind. Of course. The only thing better than being used by all of them would be being used by all of them at the same time. You pictured it vividly, taking them in all three of your holes at once, and the thought turned you on so much that suddenly you were at the edge again. It only took one more roll of your hips before your orgasm snuck up on you, making you tremble all over as you choked on a gasp.

“She’s cumming,” Heat announced as you fluttered around him. “Fuuuck.”

“From that pace?” Killer asked. “Is she reaching her limit?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Kid said.

“I’m with Kid. It’s something else,” Wire said. “Come on, Y/n, use your words.”

You sagged against Heat as your orgasm pulsed through your insides, muttering against his chest. Heat laughed. “She said she knows what she wants,” he said. “I think she just had a nice little mental image to get off to.”

Heat rubbed your back as you came down, then had you dismount him. He picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, stepping over and letting you fall into Wire’s big arms.

“Well?” Wire said, repositioning you so you were sitting and facing the group. He rubbed your hips fondly. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll make it happen.”

You turned to look at Wire’s dick up close. He was proportional to his height, twice as big as the others at least. There was a single frenum piercing that you immediately went to touch.

“Pay attention,” Wire said, though he made no move to stop you.

 At that point, you had not an ounce of reservation or shame left to be found. “I want everyone at the same time,” you said. “All holes.”

“Ohh?” Wire said. Kid whistled, and Heat chuckled in surprise while Killer leaned forward in interest.

“I’ve…I’ve always wanted to try something like that,” you admitted. “I can handle it.”

Wire bent down to kiss the top of your head. “Alright. We’ll work up to it, but first things first. Sorry to ask, but when was the last time you went to the bathroom?” After you told him, he nodded. “Then we should be fine for anal.”

“And in the meantime…” you said, lifting up on your knees and going to straddle his cock, but Wire turned you back around to face the group, pressing down on your shoulders so you were forced to sit further up on his lap. “Wire?”

“You’re not ready for me yet,” Wire said. “Maybe after another rotation.”

“What?! Come on!”

“Hush.” Wire pulled you back by the hips so you could feel his big cock nestled against your ass, an unfair tease of what you could potentially have had he not been so damn concerned for your well-being.

Before you could protest, Wire ran his huge hands down your body, one of them spreading your legs. Two thick fingers burrowed their way down and penetrated you, the length of them making it easy for him to reach your g-spot with a slight curling motion.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasped, squeezing around his fingers.

“Let’s get this started. For your sake, I’ll condense what we need to go through as much as possible without you getting hurt. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“There’s my good girl.” Wire rewarded you by rubbing your clit with his thumb, making your toes curl. He stopped far too soon as he began his questioning. “Now, what are your hard limits? The things you will absolutely not do?”

“Mm, fuck…Hard limits?” you echoed, trying to think while he had two fingers massaging your g-spot. “Um, um… No watersports. And, no calling me really mean things? ‘Slut’ and ‘whore’ and stuff are fine, though, but I don’t want to be actually insulted.”

“You prefer being teased about what you like, right? Rather than being told you’re only good for sex, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, you understand. I don’t like being called stupid or useless.”

“Fair enough,” said Killer, one hand on his dick while the other held the blunt to a hole in his mask. “I don’t like that kind of thing either.”

“You can call me a dumb slut any day,” Heat muttered, surprising you and making Kid laugh, “but I get it.”

“And I don’t want to be throat-fucked really hard,” you said. “I want you to use my mouth, but only go into my throat at the end to cum. Actually, I’d rather you came in my mouth than on my face–hhn!”

Wire resumed rubbing your clit again as a reward for your honesty, short-circuiting your brain until he stopped. “Deepthroating once is okay, only at the end. No finishing on your face. What else?”

You continued that way, detailing your limits while getting fingered, with Wire teasing your clit every time you finished answering a question. Wire added a third finger inside you once he moved on to asking you about positions, and by the time the safety discussion was done, he didn’t let up playing with your clit, either. His fingers curled and rubbed against your g-spot in perfect rhythm with his thumb, his other hand teased your chest, and, legs shaking, you came hard into his hand a few blissful minutes later.

“Aw, my sweet little girl can’t stop cumming for her superiors,” Wire praised, turning your head to kiss you. “Love how you use that crazy stamina of yours for us.”

“I’d do anything for you,” you said earnestly, a little drunk on the rush of your orgasm.

Wire blinked for a moment in surprise, then smiled, running his other hand over your head adoringly. “All the more reason you deserve this. Now, clean up this mess you made,” he said, holding his slick-coated fingers to your lips, “and I’ll pass you to Killer.”

You held Wire’s hand in your smaller ones as you licked and sucked on his fingers. He probed inside your mouth teasingly, rubbing your tongue and feeling around, working you back up so you’d be nice and needy for Killer. As if that would be an issue–with the Red Sky in your blood, you knew you could go all night. You wanted to go all night.

“Don’t miss a single spot,” Wire muttered in your ear, and you complied, tongue weaving in-between his fingers obediently. “Do you like how you taste?”

“Uh-huh,” you said honestly, sending a noticeable wave of excitement through the group.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Heat groaned, letting his tongue loll out as he stroked himself.

“She sure makes it look good, doesn’t she, Killer?” Kid grinned. “Why don’t you eat her out later?”

“Yeah,” Killer replied, a breathiness to his voice, fisting himself faster. “I intend to.”

Letting you cool down this way gave you the chance to really focus on watching the others, and you never realized how tantalizing it was to watch the three men you crushed on jack off at the sight of you. Thrilled and impatient, you pulled Wire’s hand away. “I want Killer now.”

Killer growled in excitement at your words, sending a shiver up your spine. Wire took mercy on the both of you, deciding you had done a good enough job. He scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style, and handed you off to the masked man.

Killer, eager to have you to himself for a little while, opted to have you facing him. 

“What the hell, man? Face her forward,” Kid complained.

“No,” Killer said, “I want to see her face when I make her cum.”

He didn’t miss how you squirmed on his lap at the statement, a rumble in his chest. You didn’t know which you preferred–both watching the others and having one-on-one attention was elating, but it would have been better if you could see Killer’s expression. You supposed him wanting you this way would have to be enough for now, though you still longed to kiss him. It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Killer,” your purr was just on the edge of a pouty whine, “won’t you kiss me? Please?”

Killer hesitated just a moment, prompting the others to speak up.

“She’s been so good, Kill, don’t you think?” Wire said.

“Go on, we won’t look,” said Heat.

“No pressure,” Kid added.

Killer’s mask tilted down, and you knew he was looking right at you. “If that’s what you really want.”

“I’ve wanted that for a long time,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance.”

“Can’t say I ever thought I’d get to either.” His large hands rubbed up and down your sides. “Didn’t think any of this would ever happen. You were so…”

“Yeah?”

“Awkward.”

The other three barked out laughs, and you pouted. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“But even before that…” Killer said, one hand tracing the scar on your clavicle, “you were quiet… lonely.” He brought both hands to cradle your face.

Though only faced with the mask, you felt like you could see through it to his eyes. “I’m not lonely anymore,” you whispered.

One of his hands shifted to cover your eyes, and you held your breath in anticipation. A moment later, you felt the soft, smooth warmth of his lips pressing to yours. The kiss was hesitant, uncertain, but heavy with wanting; you parted your lips slightly to give him silent permission to go further. When he didn’t, you poked your tongue out to trace his bottom lip, testing, and Killer responded with a soft groan. He pulled you closer with his free hand, deepening the kiss and finally tasting you, his tongue meeting yours. The touch of the wet muscles released some sort of floodgate within him; suddenly he was kissing you fervently, all that wanting let loose onto you. You felt him pull away, only to press a kiss to your jaw, then your neck, working his way down to your scar, which he dragged his tongue across.

You whimpered, reaching up to dig your fingers into his hair and hold on, core aching with need as he kissed down to your breasts.

Suddenly you felt yourself tipping down, yelping as Killer flipped you lengthwise, your chest in his lap and your legs in the air on either side of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your lower half, firmly holding you in place. There was no warning before he pressed his face into your cunt.

“Ah, K-Killer!” you moaned as he lapped and slurped at the sensitive flesh, tonguing between your folds and into your center. He ate you out with all the fervor of a man starved, his goatee rubbing into your clit as he went.

“That’s one way to cure cottonmouth,” Heat said, prompting Kid to lean over to high-five him.

“Don’t be lazy, Y/n,” Wire tutted, “suck him off.”

“Yeah, suck his dick!” Kid encouraged, tongue sticking out.

“Fuck, o-okay,” you breathed, bracing yourself against his muscular thighs with one hand and wrapping your fingers around his cock with the other. You guided his leaking tip into your mouth. It was warm and smooth on your tongue, the salty tang of pre-cum leaving your head spinning. You couldn’t really bob your head from that position, but you did your best to try and please him, though you felt too distracted by the way he plunged his tongue inside you. Killer, on the other hand, didn’t seem thrown off by the added stimulation, merely moaning into your cunt and continuing his assault on your senses.

“Attagirl,” Heat praised. “Take him deeper.”

“Watch us while you do it,” Wire commanded.

Killer had a slight upward curve to his dick, so from that angle, you found that taking him further into your mouth wasn’t so difficult. As long as you braced yourself, you could handle it without choking. You strained forward, letting him deeper into your mouth, eyes flicking up to meet the others’ gazes as you did. The eye contact tightened the building tension within you even tighter, and your moan was muffled when Killer started sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, there you go, princess,” Kid said.

“Mmff-!” you pulled off of Killer’s dick, gasping. “Gonna cum! Killer!”

Just like that, Killer manhandled you to flip you back the right way up, pulling you down onto his cock all the way to the base. He had his mask tilted partway up, beautiful blue eyes cast in shadow barely visible, but fixated on you. He started bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing, fingers sinking into your hips, the muscles of his arms and abs flexing. Killer gritting his teeth, too lost in the euphoria of fucking you to worry about his face being visible.

“Killer!” you moaned, holding on for dear life, his handsome face in view as you felt yourself climbing to yet another dizzying orgasm. You trembled as it washed over you, and Killer growled when he felt your walls spasming.

“You cumming on my cock, pretty girl?” he said huskily, holding you down and thrusting up into your g-spot.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” you whimpered–somehow, even being the fifth time, it was just as strong as the first. You slumped against Killer, resting your hands on his chest and catching your breath. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before lowering his mask. 

You were still feeling the waves of it by the time Killer lifted you off of him, a rope of slick connecting your cunt to the tip of his dick.

“Do you need a break?” Killer asked, rubbing your back.

“I don’t know? Maybe?” you said. “I’m a bit tired, but it’s weird. No matter how hard I cum, I still want more.”

“At least drink something,” Wire suggested.

“Like cum?”

That earned you a few giggles from Heat and Kid. Wire picked up one of the water bottles on the table and tossed it at Killer, who caught it one-handed and offered it to you.

After rehydrating, you were passed to Kid. Despite his earlier protests to Killer, he faced you toward himself this time. At first you thought this was to torment you more, as he seemed eager to make you say embarrassing things so he could commit the look on your face to memory.

“Who’s your captain?” Kid demanded as he fucked up into you.

“You are!” you cried.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“Ah! Y-You are!”

Afterward, you realized he just wanted to make out while you rode him. Or maybe it was both things, but you weren’t about to complain. It was hard to tell which of you was more greedy; him for offering up this situation in the first place, or you for accepting it enthusiastically.

Heat opted to take you on the ground for his turn in the rotation, pushing you onto your hands and knees and giving backshots that had your toes curling. Finally, Wire agreed to let you ride him, facing you toward the group and letting you lower yourself onto his cock at your own pace. It was a tight fit, he was the biggest you had ever taken, but you had been fucked so thoroughly and came so many times at that point that you didn’t need any extra preparation. It only took a little bit of working yourself down to take him all.

“Theeere you go,” Wire praised as he bottomed out. You shivered at the sensation of being filled so full. He was pressed firmly against your g-spot without even needing to move or angle himself, all it took was you clenching down on him to feel bliss. He chuckled when he felt you doing so repeatedly, bending down to whisper into your ear. “How’s that big dick feel?”

“So good, Wire,” you sighed, resting your hands over his on your hips. The final blunt in the rotation was passed to Wire, and after taking his hit, he held it to your lips so you could take a hit, too.

Wire passed the blunt, then moved your hands to your lower stomach, making you feel the pronounced bulge that was there. You clenched up again at the feel of it. “You know,” he murmured, “I always had a feeling you could take all of me. That you were made for taking cock.”

“Let me see,” Kid said. 

Wire moved your hands away to show off your belly bulge. “You guys wanna take a closer look?” he asked with a lazy smirk.

Before you knew it, the other three had come over to see the spectacle up close, whistling and cooing. You flushed hotter as they felt it for themselves.

“It’s like you were made for us, babe,” Heat said. He stepped even closer so he was right in front of you, then took his cock and rubbed the tip against your clit, making you gasp. It was smooth and slick against the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Heat!” you moaned, hands twitching, but Wire held them firmly at your sides, not letting you move.

“What?” Heat said. “After everything, you can’t take this?”

“S-Sensitive! It’s–oh god, fuck…”

“Her hands are free,” Wire pointed out to the other two, holding your hands out. Kid and Killer didn’t hesitate, positioning themselves at your sides. Wire guided your hands around their cocks, helping you jerk them off. The group forced you to stay trapped in that position, Wire rocking his hips all the while. Your eyes rolled back; the build was steep and intense, causing tears to form at the corners of your eyes. The others praised you while you whimpered.

“Did you think about us? When you were alone in the shower?” Wire muttered into your ear.

“Yes! I’m, I’m cumming,” you whined. None of them let up, pushing you over the edge yet again.

“How many times is this?” Kid grinned as you gasped and shuddered.

“That makes six,” Killer said.

“About to be seven,” Wire said, reaching around to rub your clit in expert circles. 

“Wire!” You immediately twitched and writhed, but couldn’t get away. “It’s too soon, it’s too soon!”

“You can take it,” he assured, thrusting up harder. Before he was mostly still, this time his massive cock slid in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. You didn’t think you could cum again so soon, but the overstimulation soon went from maddening to euphoric under his experienced touches. Only another minute of you keening, and then you came again.

“Told you,” Wire said as he finally released your hands. “Seven.”

You fell back against Wire, feeling a bit light-headed. Heat patted your cheek and Killer ruffled your hair.

“Still good to keep going?” Wire asked, grinding his hips against yours to draw out your orgasm. You didn’t respond, too fucked-out, still riding the sensation of the little pulses shooting through your core. “I’m gonna need a response if you want this to continue, sweetheart.”

Your voice was small and shaky. “Don’t stop.”

“You heard her,” Kid grinned.

“What do you think, then, Y/n?” Wire asked. “You ready for all of us?”

“Y-Yeah…” you said. “Just…gimme a minute.”

“And everyone else? You all still in?”

The rest of the group gave eager agreements. Wire helped you dismount from him and let you rest against his broad chest. In the meantime, he started directing the others to set up. There wasn’t much to do, just taking the blanket from the nearby bed and putting it onto the floor for some extra cushioning. Everyone took a drink break, and the last blunt was stubbed out on the now-full ashtray. You went to sit in the center of the blanket, and the others followed. There was a brief discussion on how to make the positions work, you were given another check-in to ensure you were okay with the setup, and anyone who hadn’t fully disrobed did so.

Killer laid down on his back, taking your hand as you crawled over him. You mounted his cock eagerly; despite all the prior attention, you were finally getting to try acting out one of your fantasies, and had perked right back up at the chance.

“Nervous?” Killer asked as Kid took up position behind you.

You shook your head. “You know I trust you guys with my life, right?”

“That’s right,” Kid said, pressing a kiss to the tattoo on your back. Then he placed a hand on your back and pushed you forward to expose your cunt to him. He positioned his cock right up against Killer’s, pushing against it and forward to stretch your cunt until it gave way to his, too. You bit your lip as you were filled by both men simultaneously–the stretch was just like taking Wire.

“Who fills you more?” Wire questioned as he took place at your side, taking your hand and putting it on his cock. “Our captain and first mate, or me?”

“I can’t really tell,” you answered honestly, wrapping your hand around the base of him.

“I guess we’ll just have to give you more practice, then,” he grinned.

Heat stepped over Killer, standing in front of you. “Open wide, babygirl,” he purred, and you did so, tongue sticking out like a landing strip for his cock. He eased himself into your mouth gently, cursing when you started to suck on him. The feeling of his piercings on your tongue was fun, a little sensory treat for you to play with.

Kid started to thrust first, Killer waiting a bit to pick up on Kid’s rhythm before he joined him. He timed himself so you were never left empty; if Kid was pulling back, Killer was thrusting in, and vice versa. The two of them were in perfect sync like they’d done this before, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if they had. Between Kid’s grip on your hips and Killer’s hands on your waist, you were held steady so you didn’t rock too far forward, keeping you feeling the full brunt of their combined attack.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” Heat said, placing a hand on the back of your head and starting to thrust shallowly into your mouth. Now that you had been pushed to make eye contact so much during the rotations, there was no more hesitation from you as you looked up through your eyelashes at Heat, who cursed at the sight.

“Oh, fuck, you look good like that,” he muttered, “sucking my cock while getting railed. You feel so fucking good, shit.”

“Isn’t she just perfect?” Wire cooed, guiding your hand to pump his cock. “Servicing us all with those slutty little holes of hers, and doing such a good job of it, too.”

Your moans were muffled by Heat’s cock, but the sound made the others’ grip on you tighten, their thrusts increasing in force. It was almost everything you had wanted, their cocks a drug to you as much as the weed was–you didn’t think you could feel any better. But even then, with three of them inside you pounding you into oblivion, you still wanted more. During the discussion, Wire made you agree to show you could take double penetration before trying triple. You had no choice but to comply, but like you had told Kid earlier, they had no idea just what you could handle. 

You gave the safety signal with your trembling free hand, holding up three fingers. Wire immediately barked at the other three to stop, and when they pulled out of you, you felt emptier than when before you had started.

“You okay? What’s wrong?” Wire asked. The whole group was alert and focused on you now.

“I took two, like you said!” you cried out. “I don’t want to jerk you off, Wire, I want you all at once, like you promised!”

Wire started to laugh while the others relaxed.

“That’s all?” Killer huffed. “I was worried for a second.”

Kid smacked your ass. “That’s my girl! A true Kid pirate.” He pulled you up by the neck so your chest was flush with his back, growling into your ear. “You’re just a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Need us all right this second, hmm?”

“Fuck, yes, just hurry up,” you whined.

Kid held his hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he commanded.

You spat into his palm, and he stroked his cock with that hand. “Alright, boys, let’s rearrange. Wire? What do you think?”

“I’ll take her mouth,” Wire said. “Too big for triple. Otherwise, first choice of ‘loot’ goes to the captain.”

“Her ass is mine.”

“I’m good here,” Killer said.

Heat joined Kid and Killer behind you while Wire took his place in front. He had to sit up on his legs for his cock to be at the right height to line up with your head.

“First Killer and Heat start, then Kid, so I can keep an eye on her. Once I think she’s good, I’ll take her mouth,” Wire directed.

Killer and Heat penetrated your cunt at the same time, hilting themselves before Kid pressed the head of his cock against your ass. The weed had relaxed your muscles enough so that there was little resistance, but you still closed your eyes at the unique feeling of him entering you there. It had been a while since you played with yourself anally, so adding it to the mix of sensations was a thrill. As Kid filled you up, Heat and Killer noticeably tensed in pleasure, the space inside you growing even smaller with the third addition.

“Tight,” Kid muttered, pulling out slightly before pushing in even further, making you moan as you were stuffed to the brim.

“But she did it,” Wire noted, looking proud. He stroked your cheek. “Sorry to have underestimated you.” You responded by opening your mouth, and Wire grinned. “Little slut. Alright, here I come.”

You could only really take the first two inches of Wire in your mouth, but that was enough, you swirled your tongue over his frenum piercing as you sucked him off. The other three took that as a signal to start. Kid went at his own brutal pace, steady but harsh, while the other two were more gentle as they figured out a good rhythm. At first it was disorganized and more uncomfortable than you had expected, until Wire directed Kid to slow down, and suddenly the other three fell into the perfect pace. At that point, you feared you had no rational thought left, every bit of cognition fucked out of your body. A warm, thick haze fell over your mind as they ravaged you, some part of you finally feeling relief from being used so thoroughly by your superiors. It was the satisfaction of your deepest fantasies coming true. Every nerve in your body was attuned to the feeling of their skin on you, against you, inside you. 

Their desire for you was evident in their desperation, in their hands all over your body, in their praises and groans and whines of your name. At the center of their carnal affection, you finally felt whole.

Wire dug his fingers into your hair, grunting that he was close. You were, too, but you couldn’t tell them as you were. The other three figured it out when they felt your walls flutter around their cocks.

“She came.”

“Fuck, she came again.”

“Good girl, good girl.”

You could barely tell who said what, but the following curse of “f-fuck!” came from Wire, and a moment later, a salty, slightly bitter taste coated the back of your tongue. You swallowed it down without a second thought, fully in subspace and never happier.

Heat came next; you couldn’t really feel it, only noticing once he pulled out and you were suddenly, tragically emptier.

“Just you and me, Kill,” Kid said.

Wire pulled out of your mouth, and you collapsed forward onto Killer, fingers scraping against the curly fuzz of his chest hair.

“Easy, just–mm–relax,” Killer grunted, hands traveling up your sides. “Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you panted. “Keep g-going.”

You rested your head on Killer’s chest as they double-teamed you, content to lay there and be used. It came as a surprise when you felt fingers rubbing your clit–Kid had reached around to tease you.

“One last one, princess,” he said.

“Ah, Kid! I don’t think–” you started, but Kid smacked your ass hard and made your words end in a yelp.

“Trust your captain.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You hung your head down, breaths coming out short, putting all your focus on your lower half.

“Just a bit more,” Killer urged. “Just a bit–fuck, I’m at my limit.”

Killer emptied inside you with a low groan. Kid didn’t let up, rubbing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, pushing you to the edge with that sheer, brutal determination that he approached everything in life with.

“I’m almost there,” Kid promised. “Cum for me, Y/n, cum for your captain.”

“Kid!” you cried, “Kid, Kid, Kid–!”

You both hit your peak at the same time, you with a tired whimper, Kid with a throaty groan. You felt like you had dissolved into a billion little sparks, unable to do anything but pulse and twitch. Then you went limp, all energy seeming to drain out of your body at once.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Wire asked, and you responded with a weak grunt of confirmation.

Kid and Killer pulled out, the latter sitting up and supporting you against him.

“Just rest,” Killer said. “We’ll take care of everything.”

“Wait. One last thing,” Kid said. He spread your ass cheeks, a smirk etching itself across his face when he saw the cum leaking out of your holes. “Yeah, that’s good. Nicely done, princess.”

You just pressed your face into Killer’s chest and grunted again. The four men chuckled.

“Let’s get her cleaned up,” Kid said, holding his hands out to you. Killer picked you up for one final pass to Kid, who stood you on your feet and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You look like a fucking mess.”

“Mm,” was the only noise you made, though it still managed to sound sarcastic, and Kid laughed. He detached his metal arm, setting it on the ground, then supported you with his remaining arm as you walked on trembling legs to the bathroom.

Kid started the shower, stepping inside it with you to make sure you wouldn’t collapse. You leaned against him, sighing as the hot water soothed your tired muscles.

“I guess I lived up to my hometown’s reputation after all,” you mumbled into his chest.

“No one gives a shit,” Kid said. “You should be happy you got to do this.”

“I am,” you grabbed the soap and started scrubbing your front. “I just think it’s funny. After all that time, you know?”

“Yeah.” He spun you around so the water hit your front. “After all that time. You were so cold before. I always figured you’d leave after your business was done.”

“I thought so, too,” you said, reminiscing. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

Kid helped you lather soap on your back, then spun you around to let it rinse off. You looked up at him. He was standing over you not unlike that day all those years ago, when you had marched up to him and demanded to join his crew. Except instead of a sneer on his face, there was only a soft look.

You felt yourself tear up. Kid’s expression changed to one of alarm. “Woah, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“You sure? You don’t regret this, right?”

“No. It was exactly what I wanted.” You smiled up at him to show you were fine, even as you sniffled.

“Okay. Good,” he said, looking relieved. “It was what I wanted, too.”

You hugged him tight. “I do have a question, though.”

“What?”

“What was the ‘deal’ you guys were talking about earlier?”

Kid snorted. “Ages ago, we talked about which crewmates we hadn’t fucked yet, and all of us agreed that we would have smashed you if we had the chance. So we decided that none of us would make a move until you did.”

“Is that all? Then why did you get mad at Wire?”

“Because we all know that he’s a huge flirt. None of us believed that you made the first move.”

You thought back to when you kissed him. “We were both drunk, but–yeah, he kissed me first. Despite what he says.”

You and Kid chuckled. After getting cleaned up, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went back out. The others had all redressed by then. You were about to flop into your chair until Wire held his arms out to you. You drifted over and let him pull you into his embrace, resting against him while he massaged your thighs.

“If you want to talk about any of it, just say so,” he said. “Questions, comments, concerns.”

“I just want to eat something that’s not cock,” you said.

The others laughed, except for Heat, who shouted, “Fuck!”

“What?”

“I wasn’t hungry until you said something, damn it.”

You and the other three laughed again, this time at Heat’s expense.

“I could eat all of Whole Cake Island,” you said.

Heat started rummaging around the cabinets in the dresser. “There’s gotta be a list of nearby places to eat–huh?” There was a pause, and then Heat turned around. “Why are there a bunch of condoms in here?”

“Amenities, obviously. Remember what island you’re on,” you said. 

Wire’s hands froze where they were on your hips. “Y/n?” he said, the tone making you nervous.

“Now, listen, Wire–” you started.

“Don’t ‘listen’ me,” he said thinly. “You knew there were condoms and didn’t tell me?”

“Well, you know, I’m still good on birth control, and, uh,”

“It still matters–” Wire realized something, then grabbed your shoulders. “Did you fucking lie so you’d get creampied, you fucking slut?”

The other three howled, and you shrank in his lap, even as you squeaked out, “I’m not sorry.”

“I guess you’ll have to punish her, Wire,” Kid grinned.

“Just let us watch when you do,” Killer added.

“What did you have in mind?” Heat asked.

“Oh, I’ll come up with something.” Wire said. He tickled your sides, making you flail in his lap until you begged for mercy.

“That settles it, then,” Kid said. “Y/n? Before we leave this island, make sure you go get a big bundle of Red Sky for us to take with us.”

“Aye aye, captain,” you said, heart already leaping at what the future would hold.

Pasodoble

Word Count: 2K+

Contents: Your boss, Sir Crocodile requests that you attend a gala as his plus one so he can look less suspicious while spying. Feelings bubble to the surface in a night filled with extravagance. (Sir Crocodile x reader, pining, confessions, possessive Crocodile)

Notes: I love this man I really do. I'd do anything he asked me to.

//

“You want me to what?”

Crocodile looked up from his papers, “I want you to accompany me to a gala so I can gather some intel.”

You paused for a moment and then pursed your lips.

“You want me to be your plus one to a party so you can spy on people.”

“Problem, darling?” Crocodile smirked.

“Not with the spying part,” you waved your hand. You’d been Crocodile’s personal assistant for several years now. You knew what to expect from your boss, and a completely honest man he was not. 

“Then what’s the issue?”

“It’s a party for people like you,” you gestured to him. “Extravagant rich people who live luxury lives with fine jewelry and fine clothing…Not a party for normal people like me.”

Crocodile raised an eyebrow, “Normal people hm? Well this isn’t a request. It’s an order.”

“Why can’t you go alone?”

“Too suspicious.”

“Well can’t you just hire someone?” You protested. “I’m sure there are loads of women who’d love to hang off your arm at a fancy party for a night.”

“I don’t trust some cheap escort. I trust you,” your boss levelled you with an even gaze as he lit up a cigar.

You sighed heavily.

“This is really non-negotiable, huh?”

“Afraid so, darling.”

“Fine,” you furrowed your brow, “but I’m taking the rest of the day off to go shop for something suitable to wear.”

Crocodile huffed, a cloud of smoke floating out from his mouth.

“There’s no need for that. I’ll have something sent to your apartment this afternoon, but if you want to take the rest of the day to work up the nerve to attend the party with me then go ahead.”

You rolled your eyes at the teasing tone of his voice and simply waved as you left his office.

//

You stood by the front door, anxiously fussing over your appearance in the mirror. 

Crocodile would be arriving soon to pick you up, and even if you’d spent a few hours getting ready, you still didn’t feel prepared.

You looked in the mirror, sliding your hands over non-existent wrinkles in your dress. Someone else from Crocodile’s office had dropped it off that afternoon, and you knew from the brand label on the garment bag that it was expensive. It was breathtaking. Soft, emerald coloured velvet reaching down to the floor, hugging your curves in all the right places. A long slit ran up the side, exposing your leg and the gold heels that had been delivered to you with the dress.

With your hair done up, and a bit of subtle work with your makeup, you’d never felt more extravagant. Or more unfamiliar from your own reflection.

The colour scheme of your outfit was also not lost on you, and you were certain that Crocodile had grinned smugly when picking it out.

You sighed as you examined your appearance again. Just as you were wondering if you could pretend to be ill, you heard a knock at the door.

After another deep breath, you opened it. Crocodile was standing on your doorstep, filling the entire space with his presence.

He didn’t comment on your appearance as you stepped out to meet him and closed the door, merely giving you a quick once-over and huffing his approval. He offered his arm to you, and no sooner had you taken it that you both dissolved into sand, scattering away and reforming on the grand steps of a large estate.

You brushed stray grains of sand off of you as Crocodile smirked slightly.

“I hate when you do that.”

He chuckled lowly and started walking up the stairs, “Come, we wouldn’t want to be late.”

“Sir-”

“Lose the sir.”

You looked up at your boss, who was paused on the steps ahead, looking over his shoulder at you with an expression you couldn’t place.

“You’re not my assistant tonight,” he said softly, before continuing toward the entrance. 

You stood frozen on the steps for a moment as your heart clenched before hurrying to catch up with him.

As you walked through the grand doors, Crocodile tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow. 

“Wouldn’t want you getting lost now would we?” He said lowly, guiding you through the main foyer.

“How in the world would I get…lost…” you trailed off as the two of you stepped into a magnificent ballroom filled with an extravagantly dressed crowd. 

Men in finely cut suits and women wearing exquisite gowns and covered in jewels mingled and laughed. Several waiters weaved through the party, handing out flutes of champagne and hor d'oeuvres. Large granite pillars lined the marble-floored ballroom, and works of art hung from the walls. Across the ceiling, masterfully painted frescoes were illuminated by large chandeliers dripping in crystals.

Crocodile gave you a pointed look and began to lead you through the crowd as you looked around in awe. Somewhere along the way he managed to snag some champagne for both of you, handing you a glass as he whisked you through the crowd.

“So, is this the kind of extravagant luxury you were expecting?” He asked, sipping his champagne.

“Not quite to this scale,” you said, still taking everything in. You took a sip of your drink. “It’s…a lot.”

Crocodile chuckled, “Don’t worry, darling. Just stick with me and everything will be alright.”

As he tucked you into his side and ushered you off into the crowd, you had the feeling things would be much less simple than that.

//

You were bored.

Even with all the sights and the glamour around you, you’d lost interest in the party after the third conversation that Crocodile had toted you along for, and that was an hour ago. Needless to say, you were done mingling for the moment.

You tapped Crocodile’s bicep as you left, and he nodded without breaking his conversation. Then you drifted over to a less crowded part of the room, grabbing another flute of champagne as you went. With your back pressed against the cool, smooth marble of one of the pillars, you let out a soft sigh of relief. 

Despite your outfit and date for the evening, as you gazed out at the crowd, you still felt like a stranger in a new world. A thought briefly ran through your head, of Crocodile with a date much more suited to this extravagance than you. The idea made your stomach churn. Your boss was a busy man, often with little time left for the frivolities of finding a lover, but there had been a few times when he’d ushered some finely dressed woman away to private rooms at the casino. Each time it had not failed to make some twisted jealousy curl through you, immediately followed by guilt for wanting possession over a man you had no romantic claim on.

As you sat there stewing, a space was cleared in the centre of the ballroom and a band settled on a balcony overlooking the floor. Soon after, a dark waltz was floating through the air.

You sipped your drink as you watched couples take to the floor, a presence coming up behind you your only indication that your boss had left his conversation to join you. Crocodile’s hand settled on your back as he took your empty glass, passing it off to a waiter.

“Your mother used to dance, didn't she?” his voice rumbled.

You nodded, your eyes still on the dancers spinning around the floor, “She did.”

“Did she teach you?” Crocodile asked.

“Yes, but that was a long time ago…” 

Crocodile leaned in closer, his voice dropping to near a whisper. “Try to remember…for me.”

A strange feeling came over you. Perhaps it was a combination of the sultry music and the low pitch of his voice as he loomed behind you like a cloak of darkness. All you could do was nod, and let him take your hand as he pulled you out of the crowd.

The feeling of his hook settling around your waist made you look down, and you realized that it wasn’t the one he usually wore. This hook pointed outward slightly at the end, as opposed to his normal hook which followed one continuous curve.

“See something interesting?”

You glanced up, and the neutral expression on his face almost fooled you into thinking the switch was a coincidence. But Crocodile was far too cunning to not have everything worked out beforehand if he could help it, and the calculating look in his eyes told you this was no accident. 

He had planned on dancing with you, so he’d chosen a different hook to ensure he wouldn’t hurt you with the sharp curved tip.

And he knew that you’d figured it out.

Not for the first time that night, words eluded you. You shook your head, and Crocodile merely hummed in response, pulling you a bit closer as he began to lead the two of you around the room.

“Are you enjoying your evening, darling?”

“I am.”

“Good. I know you were concerned about fitting in, but I knew you’d do just fine. You’re with me after all.” 

You could hear the sly smile in his voice, but it didn’t stop you from briefly imagining what it would be like to be Crocodile’s lover. 

It wasn’t the first time that such a thought had crossed your mind. There had been moments in the past when a brush of hands exchanging papers lasted a bit too long, or a shared look had felt a bit too intimate. Crocodile often doted on you, citing your hard work and loyalty as his reasons to send you gifts. 

You’d be lying if you said you harboured no feelings for him. You kept all that tucked carefully away, though, knowing you’d surely be cast off from his side if he ever found out. And yet, in private moments, when you knew you were able to safely think about your desires, his face would cross your mind.

You could feel your cheeks burning a bit, so you focused your gaze on Crocodile’s chest, trying to keep your face from heating under his gaze.

“Mm, took you long enough to reveal yourself.”

Your head shot up, thinking you’d been found out, only to find Crocodile staring out at the crowd. You followed his gaze, seeing two men in sharp suits exchange whispers and begin to head away from the group and down a hallway.

You sighed and shook your head, your boss’ shifted attention allowing you to refocus on what your role was in his life. The song ended, and Crocodile pulled away, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a light kiss to your knuckles.

“I’ll find you when I’ve gotten what I needed, darling.”

“Yes, yes, go do something illicit,” you waved him off, deciding to go get another drink. Whether to clear your head or distract yourself, you weren’t sure.

You slid onto a stool at the bar counter, ordering a drink and taking a long sip once it was served to you.

“Get a hold of yourself,” you muttered quietly, rubbing your temple and squeezing your eyes shut. Regardless of who you were posing as tonight, you were Crocodile’s assistant, not his partner. 

With a heavy sigh, you downed the rest of your drink and ordered another.

//

It had been a decent amount of time since Crocodile had gone off. 

You’d remained at the bar, observing the crowd and watching for the return of your boss, but had yet to see him. You were beginning to wonder if you should go look for him when a man slid up next to you, far too close for comfort.

“Now what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone at the bar,” the man cooed, and you cringed.

“Just having a drink and waiting for my date.” You turned away, hoping it would dissuade the stranger.

“Your date left you alone? Damn he must be stupid. I’d never leave such a beautiful woman to sit by herself. You never know who could come along and steal her away,” the man said, leaning in closer.

You leaned away, calling over the bartender to settle your tab before you were pursued further.

“Bet I could treat you better than your date.”

“Sorry, I’m not interested,” you said, trying to be polite in the face of the stranger’s inability to read your cues.

You slid off your stool, making to walk away when a hand grabbed your wrist, tugging you back toward the bar.

“C’mon, doll. Give a guy a chance won’t you?” He whispered into your ear.

His hand grazed up your arm, stopping cold when a gold hook yanked him by his tie away from you and toward the snarling expression of Sir Crocodile.

“That’s not yours,” he growled, the stranger’s eyes widening in fear and recognition.

The man struggled as he was held aloft, your boss being a good two and a half feet taller. “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t know she was yours! I’ll leave her alone I promise! Let me go, please!”

Crocodile merely sneered, “You think begging will save you?”

You could only stand there frozen and watch. The wrath on Crocodile’s face was something you usually only saw directed at his enemies, but now it was being used in your defence.

No, not just in your defence, out of possessiveness. 

The sound of the stranger continuing to plead for his life took you out of your stupor.

“Crocodile,” you hissed at your boss, watching your surroundings as people started to notice the commotion. “You’re making a scene.”

Your boss finally tore his eyes away from the vicious glare he had been sending the other man and looked down at you. He held your gaze for a few moments before exhaling and dropping the man unceremoniously. Then he stalked over to the balcony off to the side of the ballroom.

You followed hurriedly, nearly jogging to catch up to Crocodile’s long strides. When you emerged, he had already shoved a cigar between his teeth, though he was still frowning as you set your hands on the railing next to him.

The night air was cool, and you tried to take a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart, but all you could focus on was your boss fumbling with his lighter next to you and mumbling curses under his breath. He was angry, and anger made him unfocused. 

You sighed and turned to him, grabbing a hold of his collar and yanking him down a bit so you could reach his face. You took the lighter from his hand, feeling him watch your every move as you easily struck it up and held it to his cigar.

Crocodile’s eyes met yours as the cigar lit, and he held your gaze as he took the first long inhale before straightening up and tilting his head slightly to exhale a cloud of smoke.

He grunted out a thank you, and you nodded. You let him smoke in silence for a while, allowing the nicotine to settle into his lungs and ease his tension. Once you’d decided he’d calmed down enough, you looked up at him.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” 

“Well too bad,” You said, frowning at him a bit. “What was that back there?”

“He had no right touching you,” Crocodile muttered around his cigar.

“And that gives you warrant to end his life?” You asked, frustration and confusion tinting your voice.

“It does because you’re mine, and nobody touches my things,” he growled, turning his gaze to you.

The fire in his eyes should have been frightening, instead it only made a flicker of heat go through you. 

Crocodile reached out, grabbing your cheeks with his hand. “Sometimes I wonder whether you are truly human, or whether the gods sent you to me as punishment for the deeds I’ve done.” He tilted your face back and forth, examining you. “You bring out a weakness in me I am unable to control. A primal desire to claim you and let no one else have you.”

At this point, you were sure your cheeks were red, and eyes wide from the confession.

“Such a pretty thing, so loyal,” Crocodile murmured, “Forgive me for wanting to keep you all to myself, darling…I’m only a man, and a selfish one at that.”

“Sir,” you whimpered softly, “What does all this mean?”

Crocodile released your face with a sigh and took another puff from his cigar. “It means that I need to face the feelings I’ve been so desperate to quell and ask politely if you’d allow me to court you.”

You stood there in shock, your mind unable to comprehend that your deepest desires were being offered to you freely.

“You…you want to court me?”

“Yes. I want to spoil you in any way that I can and give you everything you want,” Crocodile said earnestly. “I understand this is out of the blue, you can have some time to consider my offer if-”

“Yes.”

Crocodile’s hand paused midway to his mouth, the cigar nearly slipping from his fingers.

“Yes. I want that…I want you,” you said softly, reaching out and gently tracing your fingers across his jaw.

The man let out a pleased hum, stubbing his cigar out and tucking you into his side. “Good. Then let’s leave this stuffy party and go somewhere private. I need a drink, and to properly explain my intentions to you.”

As he whisked you through the ballroom and out of the building, you bit back a smile, content at how he held you closer than he had before, and excited for what was to come.

Sleepyhead

Word Count: 400+

Notes: Just really needed soft Paulie in my life so this is short and sweet

//

The sound of your alarm woke you from a peaceful sleep. 

Your eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the sunlight streaming in through the crack of the bedroom curtains. You reached over, silencing the alarm and taking a few moments to fully wake. 

With a yawn, you made to get out of bed, but strong arms caught you, pulling you back in. A scruffy chin settled in the crook of your neck.

“Paulie, baby, I have to get up for work,” you said softly, trying to maneuver out of his hold. 

His arms tightened around you. “‘S the weekend, we got the weekend off,” he mumbled groggily.

“It might be the weekend for you, but I still work a half-day today, remember?” You squirmed a bit, your efforts futile against your boyfriend’s arms. “After today I have the weekend off. Just need to go to work this morning and I’ll be back in the afternoon, I promise.”

It felt like Paulie was pulling you further and further into the bed, so you shifted, turning to face the man. Your eyes softened at the sight. 

Paulie’s eyes weren’t even open, his barely conscious self moving mostly on autopilot to try and keep you with him. His blonde hair was messy, and his lips parted slightly, with a bit of drool escaping the corner.

Paulie had never been a morning person, usually needing at least two strong cups of coffee before he was ready for work. Since you usually started before he did, you’d prepare it for him, leaving the first mug steaming on the bedside table for him, and the rest sitting in the coffee pot for when he dragged himself out of bed. You’d always press a kiss to his lips before you left, your lover barely stirring when you did. With both of you being promised some time off, though, it seemed he wanted to make up for all the mornings he hadn’t been able to spend waking up with you.

“Just a few more minutes, angel, then you can go. You’ve got a few more minutes for me, right?” He mumbled, blonde eyelashes fluttering as they desperately fought to open up.

You didn’t have the heart to say no.

“Okay…yeah I can stay for a few more minutes,” you murmured, unable to stop a small smile from growing. 

Paulie bundled you back into his arms, settling with a deep exhale. You felt a warmth in your chest, and suddenly found yourself wishing that you didn’t have to work a half day today. 

If you were smiling and blushing while you ran into work just at the right time, nobody needed to know the reason. You knew you had the next two days to look forward to, with the luxury of lazy mornings with Paulie. 

what a great way to end the night *explodes*

Possessive

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,900+

Synopsis: Rob Lucci was obsessed with you the moment the inner beast caught your scent in Galley-La. Now all alone after trailing you for a month, he finally manages to catch you and make his desires known.

Themes: yandere!rob lucci x gn!reader, yandere, dub con, mentions of beast (leopard), half-shifted lucci, feral lucci, hunting, tracking, nudity mentioned (reader and lucci), kisses, confessions of love, biting, licking, marking, leaning into a little bit of monster-loving, sfw - no smut, I think hybrid au? Hybrid nature, mentions of 'mate'.

Edit: shifter Rob Lucci, not hybrid 🖤. Thank you anon!

Notes: Yandere Rob Lucci has been on my mind lately. He needed to get out.

Tag list: @gingernut1314 @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @feral-artistry @sordidmusings @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @i-am-vita @sunflowersatori @extremely-ashtridic

His eyes snapped shut as a deep shudder coursed through his body, tingles shooting sparks of ignition down his spine and up to his head. He parted his lips and inhaled a sharp, hissed breath as his canines extended, his eyes reopening and slitted pupils expanded to eclipse his irises with a feral animosity. Your sweet scent swelled his heart, his lungs ignited as his blood began to pump at the thought of the hunt recommencing. 

It had been months of withholding you from his thoughts, pushing his urges for you down as he focussed on his missions and orders granted to him from Cipher Pol. After finally being granted a small reprieve between assignments, he allowed himself the luxury of beginning his pursuit of your trail once more. 

He left Hattori behind at his base, truly not desiring the pigeon to witness his carnal desires overcome his usual stoic and cold nature. Never truly giving into his Zoan Devil-Fruit, he usually has the beast lingering and lurking beneath the surface. In truth, he had never truly desired to give in to the animal nature, desiring to remain cool and level headed in his ruthless brutality.

Until that one time your sweet scent shot through his nose and ignited his feral need to state a claim for another being. 

Meeting you and the rest of your crew at Galley-La, he was struck by your appearance and that gentle laugh you offered the sniper, Usopp, when he recounted a tale of his youth at Syrup Village. Everything seemed to slow in motion, his heavy breathing and dilated pupils were the only sounds within the crowd as he lay struck and fixated on every movement. 

He was struck dumb by your laugh, the smile held him hostage as it softly spread up your lips and painted your cheeks with your joy. It almost made him wish to fling his plans of betrayal to the wind and sink his claws and teeth into you and hold you close. His needs tugged at his heart, his instincts and animalistic nature keening and screaming at him to give in and claim you as his. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply and committed your fragrance to memory.

The taste of your skin on the wind propelled him to drive harder, push his body further, and fully give in to his cravings for you as he felt his skin shift and split to make way for fur and claws. Rolling his shoulders back, the muscles compacted first before straining to enlarge with his beastial form. 

His legs picked up as the wind brushed past his face with quickened pace. Each stride had his blood boiling, his heart soaring at the knowledge that you were getting closer and closer with each feral leap and spring he made. Another factor he took into consideration was ensuring you were far enough from your crew to not call for help. The scent of the Straw-Hats were no longer lingering near you, and he was desperate in wanting to claim you as his all alone.

Slowing to a soft prowl, his eyes finally met with your form. Stooping low, you filled up several cantinas of river water and placed them within a wicker basket to return to your crew. He inhaled deeply to catch your sweet scent on the wind, his purred growl exiting his lips with a lengthy exhale to process it. 

Head snapping upwards, you attempt to locate the source of the guttural sound. The small twitch has Lucci’s stomach coil tightly and jaw falling slack at the sight. You were just a meek little thing. So defenseless and unprotected. 

As you return to your duties of filling up the final cantina for your crew, he watches as you take a moment to look around for any danger before stripping yourself down to your undergarments and retracting your towel from the basket beneath the water containers. His breath hitches as you strip yourself bare and slip into the reeds, all exposed for him and relaxed beneath the sun. 

Laying flat on your back and remaining buoyant and floating in the freshwater, he remained helpless and observant in knowing you had stretched far from his reach at this moment. His devil-fruit had claimed his ability to swim, but his need and desire for you only grew the moment your warm flesh lay bare before him. 

He made himself small, lowering himself to the ground and his claws dug into the ground the longer you eluded him. If you would venture closer to the bay, he could easily capture you in his clutches and tug you away from the shore. 

Lucci was a patient man, his work undercover in Galley-La for five long years was a sentiment to his persistence and perseverance. His body began to slowly rock from side to side, pacing as his muscular shoulders rolled with each crouched motion as he lay fixed on your form. Nothing could break him away from this concentration, you were the only thought occupying his mind. 

The moment your hand brushes with the side of the floral riverbank, Lucci pounces. His half-shifted body springs forward, capturing you from the water and tugging you towards the ground cover of underbush. His hand finds your lips, clapping his palm over them to stifle your muffled scream. 

The panic is written on your face as Lucci cages you beneath him, ensuring your legs remain well hidden in the shrubbery by tucking them beneath his thighs and wrapping his patchy tail around them. His dangerous, golden eyes beam down at you, his canines extended and his muzzle-like jowls pull back to reveal his pointed teeth to you. 

Fear tainted your scent, the air tasting bitter and tart mixing with your natural sweetness the longer his beastial form pinned you beneath him. He could see in your eyes, and feel the vibrations of your whimper beneath his palm, that you expected to die at this very moment. He leaned down further, hovering his open mouth over your jugular and feeling your throat gulp back and stifle your shock. 

Clamping your eyes shut, all of your thoughts are on your crew. You were foolish to assume you could ever have a moment of peace while traveling with the Straw-Hats. Thinking you could indulge in your desires for a short dip in a warm ravine, you truly had no idea that your day would end like this. 

The sworn enemy of your captain, a dangerous Zoan-Fruit user taking shape in his leopard half-shifted form and caging you beneath him. His breath felt hot on your neck, and his teeth threatened to puncture the skin and claim your life as his trophy. As you prepared yourself for your final moments alive, you furrowed your brows and reopened your shocked eyes.

A coarse tongue lolled out and grazed your throat with a slow and deliberate flicker. You gulp back your shock as another intentional stripe was made against your pulse, his teeth now nuzzling you with his snout and huffing your flesh like an addictive fragrance. Your body shook in shock as he pressed more of his body against yours, his radiant heat keeping you warm as he licked off the dewed droplets of water from your skin. 

The clawed hand began to caress your cheeks beneath his grip on your lips, his tongue and teeth continuing to grind against your pulse and taste your flesh. Your body responded to him by arching your back and betraying any thoughts of attacking him as he savored your flavor with a purred hum. You bit back a gasp as his teeth begin to mouth at the sensitive point beneath your ear, gently biting and marking you as you lay captured beneath him.

“Finally alone,” he purred against your skin, nuzzling his muzzle against your skin, “Finally within my clutches.” He licked a long stripe up to your chin and flicked his coarse tongue over it. You shudder, shivering as you unintentionally hide your body beneath the warmth of his larger frame. You round your eyes, looking up at his face as he hovers over your own. 

His eyes hold a possessive and captivating aura within them, your breath stolen from you as his human form begins to return to his features. His eyes remain slitted and blown with desire, but his body falls back to the form you are more familiar with. Slowly removing his hand from your lips, his gaze focuses on the way they part and gasp for air beneath him. Each soft inhale had a whimpered exhale, your fear still evident in your face as his bare skin warms your own beneath him. 

“If you are going to kill me, kill me, Rob Lucci,” you whisper, darting your eyes between his and hardening your resolve. His chest rumbles with a growling purr as he rests his elbows by your chest and slowly slots his arms beneath your shoulder blades. 

“Kill you?” he whispers, hovering his lips over yours and breathing in your air, “Whatever drew you to that conclusion?” He captured your lips beneath his in an open and possessive kiss, stealing a moan from you as he pressed his body flush with yours. The scrape from his cropped beard over your chin tickled against your flesh as he parted his lips and hummed into yours. 

Blinking back your shock, you apprehensively hook your arms over his shoulders and hold him against you as you return the desperate and feverish kiss with a sweetness and timidity he was not expecting. The softer you returned his kiss, the more brutal he pressed his lips and tongue into you. If you attempted to retract from his lips, he simply arched his back down into you and pressed his entire mass flush against you. 

The fact that you were both naked beneath the foliage cover had you feeling more anxious and concerned about being found. For Lucci, it felt as natural to him as sitting in the sun and enjoying it's warmth.

He enjoyed your touch so much so that it came to him like a breathy release of built up tension. His lips continued to mouth at you, his tongue caressing and grinding against yours as he claimed your desires and ignited his own desperation with each motion. 

Finally pulling away from your lips, his eyes grew half-lidded and blown as he looked to the saliva connecting your parted lips to his with lust written in his blown pupils. He shuddered out a low and powerful groan as he looked to where his lips, tongue and teeth marked over your neck while in his beastial form. 

“Mine,” he uttered darkly, slowly pressing his lips against your neck and holding them firmly against your skin, “Only mine.” You gulped, blinking back your shock as he continued to ravish you beneath the shrubbery. His lips felt desperate and warm, his voice now chirping and chittering as he happily lapped at your bruising and made them deeper in hue and rise higher in swollen texture. 

The beast within him was chanting a single word alongside your name with glee, enjoying how your arms continue to hold him against you softly. Purring against you, he finally vocalized the word with a possessive growl against your skin.

“My mate,” he breathed out through his nose, lips continuing to press against your pulse as you freeze up beneath him, “All Zoan-Fruit users have one, and you?” he pulled away, hovering his face over yours with his eyes darkening, “Oh you, sweet thing.” 

Nuzzling his nose against yours, he cooed and purred down at you while his eyes remained feral and possessive. Your own eyes widened as he uttered two words that would change your fate forever. The two words that had you screaming internally to flee and return to your captain, but your heart swelling and yearning to make those words true. He spoke them with such sincerity, you almost swooned at his immediacy. 

“You’re mine.” 

HHHHHHHHH damn damn damn

Do you have any drabbles or HC of Crocodile or Smoker being an “ass” kind of guy or loves grabbing ass?

I have a problem. I say "Drabbles" and "HCs", then suddenly it ends up as a full fic. Smoker is an ass man. I don't make the rules, he just is.

It's A Need

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,400+

Synopsis: you were caught out of wearing your government official uniform, and your superior noticed. He pulls you into his office to give you a formal reprimand.

Themes: Smoker x reader (written with afab! in mind, but no gendered terms), MDNI, 18+, ass grabbing, ass kissing, ass worship, lingerie mentioned (thong), pet names: doll, established relationship. superior x underling, no smut, just suggestive.

Notes: He's just been on my mind lately, and nothing can stop me writing about him at this stage. Do what makes you happy - Smoker certainly is.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The initial invitation into his office with a gruff, barked order had you immediately standing to attention. Following behind him with your head affixed to his back with every step, you remained truly unprepared for what was to come. 

“Strip,” he grunted, sitting on his desk chair in a heavy thud. His knees were parted, his boots laying perpendicular to his desk chair legs. He reclined with a soft cough, looking up at you through his eyelashes with his gaze feeling both menacing, punishing and possessive.

“Excuse me, sir?” you responded, your eyes widening in shock. He reached for his cigars, placing two between his teeth and igniting them with his flintlock lighter. 

“You always question your orders from your superiors?” his growl flew from the reserves in his chest, the crackled exhale of smoke clouding the room with wispy vapors. 

“No, sir,” you retorted, immediately reaching for your jacket and uncinching them from their holes. You place your jacket on the chair by the door, noticing he had locked it behind you both once you entered. 

Your boots were next to follow, placing one after the other beside your uniform jacket with your socks hanging limply over the ankle holes of your shoes. Remaining in your undershirt and pants, you lace your hands behind your back and look up at him. 

“Did I tell you to quit strippin’?” he inhaled a mouthful of cigar smoke, holding it for a moment before exhaling, “I said ‘strip’, not ‘stop’.”

Wincing a little at his words, you unbutton your pants and remove your belt before hoisting the cotton shirt over your head and to the side over your jacket. Just as you hooked your shaking hands in the waistline of your pants, he stopped you. 

“Turn and face the wall,” he commanded, leaning back in his chair, “And then keep going.” You swallowed, nodding your head before turning around and meeting your gaze with the plaster wall in front of you. 

Slowly inching your pants over your ass, you heard an audible click in your superior’s tongue and the shuffle of his seat rolling back behind him. Your pants pooled at your ankles, urging you to step out of them and stand to attention with your hands behind your back. 

Standing with legs parted and shoulders arched back, your undergarments left very little to the imagination and barely shrouded your ass as the material collected itself in the center and hoisted sinfully over your hip bones. 

“Just as I suspected,” his voice called from the other side of the room, the sizzle of his cigars slowly being pressed into his copper ashtray had the room begin to smell of stagnant smoke. “You're not fully dressed in your uniform today. None of that is World Government issued.”

“I can explain, sir,” you manage to stutter out, halting as you hear his boots begin to approach you. 

“Explain why you're wearing a thong in lieu of your uniform?” he snickered, finally approaching you and hovering his form behind your back, “Now, this I gotta hear.”

You inhaled a shaky breath, feeling flustered about standing in practically nothing while your superior examines you. His powerful aura intimidated you, especially knowing he was so close to your body and likely to give you a more formal dressing down the moment you attempt to speak. 

“It was laundry day, sir,” you began, prompting a small ‘mmhm,’ from behind you, baiting you into attempting to explain yourself further, “I lumped mine in a shared basket with some of my barracks’ men, and they got lost in the sorting piles.” 

“They got lost, hm?” his rumbled voice growled at you. You felt his hand gently grasp at your hips, hooking the small piece of material within his index finger and flicking it back at you, “And you thought wearing this, instead of wandering into the uniform office on the first floor and gettin' yourself another couple backups, was a viable solution.”

“I didn't want to disappoint you, sir,” you admit with a small squeak at the flickered material, “I know how you despise tardiness more than you conduct uniform checks. I-...” his hand traveled over your ass and gently grasped it within his splayed fingers, “...I wasn't expecting you'd be looking close enough to notice, sir.”

He hummed behind you, gently drawing up his other hand and caressing your flesh within both of his hands. 

“You think I wouldn't notice how fucking good your ass looks in your uniform, that it?” he gave your ass a light slap, soothing over the sting immediately thereafter with a coarse rub, “Think I wouldn't see how it bounces with every step? How it looks grinding against the fabric?” 

Another heavy slap clapped against your skin, prompting you to suck your lips into your mouth and bite down to stifle the whimper from tumbling over your tongue. 

“Nothing to say for yourself?” he whispered, his lips grinding against your shoulder and threatening to kiss it, “After all these months of seeing each other, you thought I'd let it slide? No fuckin’ way.” 

You keep your eyes firmly fixed on the wall in front of you, gently focussing your breathing while your partner, and superior officer, manhandles you in his office. 

“What do you want me to do about it, sir?” you kept your tone steady, unwavering and attempting to remain as unemotional as you could while he rakes and scrunches his broad hands over your ass. You stifle a moan as he slaps the flesh hard, hearing the rumbled groan falling from his lips at the sight of your exposed flesh jiggling in front of him. 

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, doll,” he whispered beneath his breath, “Legs a little wider for me.” You obeyed, inching your heel and toes to the side and bending a little at the knees, and arching your back. The huffed whisper of, "Fuck, just like that," fell from his lips as he tapped and wiggled your flesh in his hands, prompting you to draw a soft smile up your cheeks. 

“I'm not going to get any work done dressed down like this, sir,” you warn him, still ensuring you use his appropriate title in his office.

“You're not gonna get work done, period,” he growled, the scrape of a chair moving behind you had your smile draw up further as you fought the urge to shake your head. 

He sat on the seat behind you, gently kneading and tugging at the flesh of your ass, his voice growling with soft huffed moans each time he witnessed the flesh jiggle. 

“It’d be easier on the both of us if you just move in with me already,” he growled, reaching down with his face and pressing it to the middle of your lower back. He circled his arm around your thigh, reaching to cup and cradle your body against his face while his other hand groped and cupped your ass cheek.

“While it would make our little trysts more convenient, it would make it harder to accept away missions from headquarters, sir,” you affirmed sternly, prompting him to growl against your skin before pressing a trail of firm kisses down your coccyx and pulling you closer. He took the material of your thong in his teeth, tugging it outwards and watching it snap back against your flesh.

“It would ensure your uniform remains undisturbed and unscattered,” he hummed against your skin, moving his other hand to join the other snaked around your thigh, “And it would also mean I’d get to see your ass as soon as I need to.” 

“As soon as you need to, sir?” you hum back your tease, feeling the way his teeth and lips began to enjoy your ass.

“It’s not a want anymore, doll,” he whispered against your skin, a soft groan in his chest, “It’s a need. Move in with me and let me worship you. I’ll treat you right, just-...” he kissed just above the material of your thong before tugging you down to sit on his lap, “Just move in with me already, or I’ll have no choice but to take you into my office and spank you whenever my craving for you gets too damn much.” 

He pressed his lips against your neck while he dug his hands into your thighs, motioning you to grind your ass against his already swelling cock beneath his uniform pants. 

“Alright, fine,” you whine, already feeling worked up by the way he manhandled you earlier, “I’ll move in with you.” 

“Knew you’d see it my way,” he muffled into your skin, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your neck while grinding his clothed cock between your ass cheeks, “Now let me have you once before you get back to work, alright?” You lulled your head back into his chest, managing to whisper through your desires.

“Aye, sir.”

YALL 👀👀👀

Aokiji for Kissing Booth please :3 (first time ask omg I just had to)

The Kissing Booth: Aokiji Kuzan for Skullfacedlady

Word Count: 700+

Notes: Your first time requesting, my first time writing for Aokiji. Wooh, I'll be writing for him again. His kiss had me feeling some kind of way, not gonna lie. Come and get a kiss, Skullfacedlady!

The crumbles of wafer-thin paper rustled into the jar beside your seat. The air around you began to grow unnaturally cold at a rate that raised alarms within you internally. You hastily sought out the source of the draft by gesturing your head from side to side, your silken blindfold prohibiting you from locating it more accurately. 

A deep rumbled chuckle hummed in front of you, as you heard your new guest place themselves on the seat in front of you. 

“Sorry, sweetheart. Sometimes I can’t control myself,” the smooth baritone hummed at you, his cadence soft and teasing, “Referring to the cold, that is.” You inquisitively cocked your head to the side at his confession and furrowed your brows beneath the material shroud. 

“You’re cool?” you ask him, a soft smile forming behind your pursed lips. You jolt upright at the feeling of an icy hand gently caressing your hand, the shock at such a temperature drop shaking you and puckering your skin with each subtle touch.

“Cool as they come, baby,” he offered you with a soft hum in his flirtatious tone. You felt him lean in, his glacial radiance biting at your skin before he drew himself closer. “May I?” You nod softly, fixing your posture to sit upright as he coaxes you into himself. 

His hand came up to gently cradle your face, gently smoothing over the skin at the apple of your cheek before lowering to caress your jaw. His touches felt soft, deliberate and sultry: his fingers dipping up further to touch over your lips. 

The featherlight touches from his fingers were gently replaced by his lips molding and caressing your own. His lips were cooler than his fingers were, a pleasant shock to your senses as you leaned into his touch. He gently mouthed at you, sensually and slowly coaxing more of you to open up to him. A pair of glasses brushed with your silken blindfold, almost catching the seams of the material shrouding your vision.

Intertwining fingers with yours, he gently raised your hand up to his neck and held it there with his, the other finding your hip and gently tugging you in closer to him. His kiss felt as if he was savoring every moment, no action rushed as he gently romanced you with his lips. 

Slowly drawing out his tongue, he switched angles and gently brushed his muscle with yours. At each moment, you truly felt like you were falling in love with his lingering touch, the coolness of his kiss had each fiber of your hair follicles standing to attention. 

The lingering effects of the cold touch began to numb and swell your bruised lips. With a soft groan of disappointment, he pulled away from you and assessed your lips. Clicking his tongue, he attempted to warm your lips by placing the heel of his palm against your skin. 

“Sorry, baby,” he hummed at you, chastising myself, “I find it hard to control myself around such beautiful people sometimes. Seems you’re no exception to the rule.” He pulled his hand away from your lips, witnessing the smile drawn up over your lips. 

“I don’t mind,” you exhaled in a breathy pant, a puff of cool vapor exiting your parted lips with every word, “I find your inability to control yourself alluring, honestly. Makes me feel special.”

“Oh, you are special, sweetheart,” he chuckled down at you, gently giving you a chilly kiss on the cheek before retracting himself from you completely. “You’ll still be here in an hour?”

“I’ll be here for another hour or so, yes,” you nod in confirmation, a soft giggle fleeing your lips at the admittance. He mirrored your expression, reaching down and giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

“I’ll see you again on my way back then,” he uttered to you in a slow and laid-back tone. You reclined in your stool, pursing your lips to stifle your smile from rising on your cheeks further. 

“Looking forward to it,” you confessed, feeling his aura retreat with him and reignite your body in the natural warmth of festival air. Your lips still tingled with the lingering numbness of his icy lips on yours, a beautiful memory and promise of what's to come swelling your cheeks in a flush of warmth in anticipation.

I am a selfish woman but it’s so worth it this is adorable 💕 thanks a bunch

Smoker for Kissing Booth please? 💕🌻

The Kissing Booth: Smoker for Sunflowersatori

Word Count: 850+

Notes: I hope you enjoy some dad-jokes. Ever since I saw the pants and the ice-cream, I couldn't stop slipping some cringe humor into his kisses. I hope you enjoy your kisses from the vice-admiral, sunflowersatori!

The corner of your lips upturned as you heard a small child cry out in glee at winning a prize. Humming briefly, you shake your head and deeply inhale through your nose to take in more of the surroundings. 

Caramelizing sugars in the heated cylindrical dome rose towards you, as did several meats and vegetables smoking over an open fire. As you continued your analysis, you could almost smell your next guest before you heard him approach the table. The sour scent of cigars caused you to recoil slightly, shaking off the heady scent of tobacco-laden nicotine. 

Several leaves were placed beside you in the glass container, a gruff cough grunting out as you heard a larger body sit themselves down on the wooden stool in front of you. Alongside the cigar scent, the lingering woody scent of pine and oakmoss aftershave caused your brows to furrow inquisitively. 

“M’sorry to do this to you,” the rumbled baritone called in front of you, the stool scuffing the floor as he inched closer to you. “My-... uh-... underlings decided to force me to come to your booth. Not somethin’ I’d ever seek out for myself.” You sink back in your seat, pursing your lips and folding your arms together in disapproval.

“No, no, no. Not that I don’t think you’re-...” he trailed off, attempting to back track his words while growling under his breath, “...I’m just gonna dig myself a hole no matter what I say now, aren’t I?” 

“Seems that way, yes,” you admit with a small scoff. You heard him chuckle in response to your retort, his body beginning to descend closer towards you. He placed his hand over yours, drawing your digits up to his face and permitting you to dance your digits over his cheeks to map his face before your kiss.

“Just so you know who your kissin’,” he whispered, his face near inches away from yours as you rolled your thumbs over his face. His heady aftershave swirled your mind as you flicked over the coarse skin on his cheeks and chin. 

“Thank you,” you whispered in response, gently lacing your fingers over his cheek to card through the cropped hair at the nape of his neck, “Very considerate of a man who was priorly digging himself such a deep hole.” 

“What can I say?” he whispered, his breath tingling your lips due to his close proximity, “I’m a kind and considerate excavator.” You fling a carefree giggle in the air before finally pressing your lips to his.

His lips felt chapped, subtle creases in his upper lip that indicated the puckering grimace of a nicotine addict. He drew his broad hand down to cup your thigh as he dominated your lips with his almost immediately.

Circling his chin and changing angles of his kiss, he hungrily sought out more of your lips and mouthed at you to open yourself up to him. His tongue darted out to dance with your own, the slow grind atop your own tongue holding a lingering taste of sour smoke. 

You continued to press lengthy movements of your lips on his, slowly dragging your hands at the base of his neck and raking your digits down towards his chest. He hummed into the kiss, his nose brushing against yours as he switched angles once more before ending the engagement. 

Pulling away from your lips, he softly rumbles a soft chuckle. Reaching his hand up from your thigh, he slowly thumbs over your bottom lip and caresses your cheek gently. 

“I’ll, uh…” he sheepishly chuckled with a breathy sigh, “I’ll be back to plow you some more later.” You immediately furrow your brows and downturn your prior smile and clench your teeth. 

“Excuse me?” you recoil away from his grip, sitting back against the barstool. He immediately staggered over his words, coughing before reaching into his jacket pocket and rustling his hand around.

“I just meant, from our earlier hole digging-...” he trailed off, prompting you to shake your head and huff out a small laugh. He joined your laughter with a chuckle of his own, flicking back the metal flint to spark the heat of a small flame. He rose to his feet, sliding back the barstool and sighing deeply. 

“Enjoy taking your quarry somewhere else for a couple hours,” you giggle at him, your tight-lipped smile withholding your more unbridled laughter, “I don’t mean to bore you, but I’ll be planted here for a little while longer.” 

“Oh, you’ll be mine soon enough,” he chuckled in response, reaching down and grasping your hand, raising it to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss on your knuckles. He turned away from you, walking back over towards his subordinates and verbally chastising himself. 

“I’m a kind and considerate excavator?” he growled, sucking in a heavy lungful of his twin cigars, “What even is that?” Shaking his head, he spared you one last glance over his shoulder, noticing your kiss-bruised lips and subtle fluster on your cheeks. He can’t wait to see you again, if that’s at all something you would want from him.

just finished rick and morty....i know he's like way older but good lord

holy shit i just googled his age, he's fuckin 70💀....my opinion hasn't changed I've just been made slightly more aware that my tastes are questionable.

anyways, anyone know any good rick and morty fics, i dont mind what kind, it can be just a character one or x reader. i couldn't really find much.

also fuck jerry, i can see why people get annoyed with him in the show.

just another trope I'd like to see more of.

feral person A with leash holder person B, except, hear me out, it's not in the 'i own you' or 'i control you' kinda way.

it's in the way where person B is fully aware of how feral person A is...and simply shows them who to direct it on, gives them something to protect, gives them a target, the leash is just for show, just to let people know where the demon person A was sent from.

imagine in a fight or something and person A is holding back either not fighting and being somewhere else or not fighting at their full ability, only to get a nod from person B and everyone just goes "oh...shit" and person A is just like a switch, the leash has been dropped but in all honesty the leash was just there for show, for person A to find their way back like some giant bloodthirsty cat dropping off their prey proudly. and person B? you'd expect them to give person A a telling off, a lesson on morals at least...but no, they pat A's head proudly and praise them, tell them that they did such a good job

"look at you! you only killed five of the guys we needed alive!"

Everyone be lookin at person B like ' bitch get yo dawg' while person B is actively encouraging person A to be even more feral. (they probs think it's hot)

Late night thinking pt3/?

this was in my drafts and the number yall chose was this one soo....enjoy?

To love someone...

To love someone so much, to the point you change yourself for their sake.

It could be the normal, improving yourself, making yourself just that little bit better, someone they can be proud of, giving to charity more often, having better manners, saving more time for your partner.

But this is inspector me's late night thinking so as nice as that is, no.

To love someone so much that you change yourself...you change your very essence, if you could you'd turn yourself into an energy so they themselves could continue to be...them.

You'd change yourself into something thats no longer human, a tool, a monster, a shadow.

You dont want anything other than for them to thrive, you love them so much.

When i think of this all i imagine is the humble shadow. You'd changed into mere wisps, you swirl and sway around your lover, constantly in contact with their skin. No one expects you to be there but you don't care, as long as you are there...for them

You move quickly around them, you protect them from harm, turning into a weapon at their whim.

You move slowly around them, so soft, so slow. giving a cold comfort, covering their body entirely in yourself, your new form as a shadow allowing you to engulf them in a way you wish you could have done before.

I've got a shit ton of drafts so would y'all be interested in seeing them, i think most of them are done. None of them are like character x reader, they're just random drabbles and thoughts. so uh I've got five i think, so you lot can just pick a number and I'll post that one lol

love at first sight? nah fuck that, gimme love at first fight >>>>

imagine arguing with someone, expecting it to go exactly like all your other attempts of sparking a good fight where they'd back off after seeing an unsettling, eager, glint in your eyes.

But not them, they don't back down, they see that glint and challenge it head on.

imagine everyone else terrified watching you two, thinking you're about to kill each other as your words get sharper and sharper, vile words that would make soldiers cry being spat in a back and forth.

No one is too surprised when you two end up on the floor, but what does surprise them is the fact that even though both of you will definitely have black eyes in a few minutes and someone's bleeding, maybe it's both of you no one can tell, you both have shit eating grins, like children playing.

Because the two of you have finally found your match, someone who can take those venomous words and give something even more potent back, someone you can kick just to end up with a gut punch. It's like a game, a conversation for you both, your own language since everyone else thinks they need to call the police because they can't see that you're perfect for each other in all the worst ways.

help me find this song plz!

ive got this song stuck in my head and i cant find it anywhere!

it kinda sounds french with a woman singing it and she says something but i cant make out what maybe something like "it's you"?

and then it goes really soft, almost classical?? think uhh a drawn out violin sound?

la la la laaa lala la lalala la

kinda like that if it makes sense lol like they are saying the "lala"

Priest!Johnny, Incubus!Ghost, Succubus!Reader has been mentioned in a convo of my friend and I when we were discussing Johnny's catholic upbringing. So Ghost and the reader tempting him into submission?

(I know incubus and succubus don't mean gender)

from my brief research an incubus is a male demon that fucks sleeping women and a succubus is a female demon who appears in dreams to seduce men....so there's a theme going on here lol. also a disclaimer, i know fuck all about religion, i may have gone to Catholic schools but it went in one ear and out the other so the religion part is probably really vague to avoid offending someone.

suggestive themes ahead read if you want, if not, scroll.

im imagining that ghost does all the work during the day, leaning against the poor priest who is trying to do his job, giving speeches and sermons, chest against his back as he whispers some of the filthiest things imaginable.

Johnny trying to give a speech "and then god said-"

only to hear ghosts grumble behind him

"fuck me till the sun comes up"

Johnny definitely halts and stutters, he knows he shouldn't but damn, he could feel the heat radiating from ghost behind him and that voice of his wasnt helping.

You and ghost are like a tag team, once Johnny settles in for the night ghost gives you a high five and goes to rest while you have your fun.

You switch his dreams from the usual ones of his family or pets or the occasional nonsensical dreams to ones including you, telling him to do whatever he really desires, and it almost worked if it weren't for the slip up of you mentioning ghosts name, after that he woke up and refused to go back to sleep.

You and ghost keep at it, day and night, trying to wear the stubborn priest out until one day you both appear in front of him, or rather, you on one side and ghost on the other, warm breaths against his ears as you both whisper to him and he finally cracks, it feels so good and yet he knows it's wrong, but he can't think for long when he has both you and ghost on him like animals.

i dunno how to end this one sorry, i feel like i didn't do the idea as much justice as i could've but i don't have much experience with religion or religious guilt so my apologies if this one turned out crap

Would thou write a little accidentally shrinking Simon's mask in the washer 🗣️

yes, I shall write a tibbit of shrinking the scary mans mask.

You had been trying to do him a favour, seeing him return with blood all over the damn thing. You'd had to practically peel the mask away from him even after he'd reluctantly agreed to let you wash it. Your efforts, while valiant, halted when you realised doing it by hand with an old toothbrush and wet sponge was getting you nowhere. So, after cursing whatever material he uses for the skull, you put it in the washing machine, thinking nothing of it...until you were met with a glowering ghost, towering in the doorway which would almost be horror movie gold if it weren't for the fact he was stood with a mask that clung to his face, the holes for his eyes were strained, making them look almost comically large. You could see the shape of his nose and how it was being pushed down, almost flat. You hold in your fit of laughter and end up in a staring contest which definitely did not help your composure. "Y/N" He growled, but instead of responding with fear you sputtered out a laugh, the way his mask clung to his mouth muffled his voice more than usual and you could the fabric straining against his mouth, reminding of you of those sheet ghost costumes but drenched in water. And so you ran for your life. Simon was never going to let you wash his mask again.

(this was my first ask! i hope i did your idea justice!) :]

please send me asks ;-; i wanna prod yer brains.

I'll do drabbles, one shots or whatever. you can even just say hi god this sounds really desperate

I'll literally write for anything, or just random writing (like my random thoughts very short series)

Thomas shelby x male reader drabble thingy idk

I've started watching peaky blinders and Im ill which made me think of this and it wont go away so now it's everyone else's problem too.

I've only watched one season so far so might bot be accurate to his character but im trying ;-;

warnings?: mentions of war, scars (not SH), possible PTSD stuff?? violence, alcohol, swearing...im really bad at warnings but i think that's everything unless you need a warning for the french too (jk)

Thinking about Thomas Shelby who owes you a favour. You own your own little group of miscreants but you dont deal with guns or betting, you grew a hate for guns after the war and made a rule to anyone who entered your pub that no guns were allowed. And you didn't do betting because there was too mich competition and dick measuring going on.

What you did deal in and make a living off of, was information, connections, you knew how to get things and what people had done behind closed doors, you were the eyes and ears in the walls. So of course Thomas had come to you for information, but he knew you wouldn't give it for free which is why he offered you a favour.

"anythin you want...any time, just for the information on the blokes I wrote down on that paper"

He says to you, and you take the offer, having the favour of a peaky blinder was valuable.

But what you weren't prepared for was how you'd use this favour.

It's late at night, your group had gotten into some trouble, a fight with another group that you'd prodded the bear with too much. You loose a few of your men, and that bothered you but what shook you the most out of your calm composure was the use of guns in that fight, the ringing was still in your ears as you stood outside Thomas Shelby's door.

When he opens the door you dont even greet him, just blurt out.

"im cashing in that favour. "

To which he raises an eyebrow but lets you in anyways, waiting silently as he tries to neaten his hair, messed up by a rough sleepless night.

"fuck......can i stay?...just for the night?"

You quickly realise how that sounds and sigh before trying to fix it.

"shit, not like that...i just...i just need to hear a heartbeat that isn't my own"

And somehow you got the great Thomas Shelby to agree on your favour, he convinces himself that it's just a favour, that it doesn't mean anything. But the fact you came to him instead of anyone else almost warmed his cold heart. He knew how it felt when the war wouldn't leave, when it made a home in your head and buried itself deep into your bones so that when they creak all you remember are the cries of your comrades.

So there you are, settled on his bed with your head on his chest, listening to the soft thuds of his heart. Your arms are tucked closely to yourself, trying to have the only contact being your head on his chest because this was humiliating enough as it was.

Your eyes close as you focus on the sound of his heart, it drowns out the sound of guns from both today's fight and the war, the sound of your own heart beating too fast because your body seems to still think there's a frenchman nearby and waiting with another gun.

You don't even realise you fell asleep until you wake up to the unfortunate reality that people tend to move in their sleep, finding your arms entwined around Thomas, your legs tangled with his.

Thomas himself was just as surprised when he hadn't heard any shovels that night and then awoke to see his hand ever so gently cradling your head to his chest, almost as a reflex he brushes his thumb across your shortly cropped hair. His eyes trail down, only now noticing the scars from war across your back and arms, he almost touched them and would've if he didn't know that it would probably wake you up.

You both untangled yourselves and lay apart and in silence when you were more awake.

"....this never happened."

You both agree in silence, knowing what would happen if anyone found out as well as the risk of getting attached which was never even thought about by either of you.

It was never spoken of again, both of you going back to just business, you almost forgot about it too.

Until you were sat in your pub, drinking peacefully with the chatter of the men, only to be disturbed when Thomas Shelby walks in, looking more unnaproachable than usual, he makes a beeline for you and murmurs something you weren't expecting.

"i need a heartbeat"

and it clicked, it was like an accidental secret code because no-one else knew what happened that night.

thinkin about ghost....again

this ones a little nsfw?it's not like...staight up porn but theres like suggestiveness, so just to be safe minors be gone. im serious 😑 like, you can read anything else on my blog but stay away from this okay?

Ghost who matches readers freak. He'll wake up in the mornings with small bites littered across his arms or you squeezing at his chest.

Ghost who absolutely melts when you play with his chest, at first it may be a somewhat innocent action but after a while he'll let out the most pathetic whine because you've accidentally worked him up, which means it's your problem to fix.

Ghost who you'd expect to not want any roughness after his harsh job but when it's you he loves it. He'll offer up his hand or arm instead when he sees you biting at your nails or peeling the skin.

Ghost who's grown to love that gnawing sensation when you just needed to feel a certain pressure on your teeth. He won't admit it but he loves it when he looks down and sees his chest and neck covered in bites and bruises.

Ghost who knows you're not trying to hurt him or cause him pain (at least not too much)

Ghost who will gladly let you tackle him to the ground and do a bit of roughousing with you because god you look hot when you're staring down at him with that grin. so to no one's surprise your little wrestling match on the floor escalates.

Immortal souls ch1

CW: uhh...this shits kinda sad ngl, death, details of injuries and said death, swearing, dont think there's anything too bad but let me know if there is

The day was bright as you lay in the field, the grass swaying softly against your face, exhausted from the day spent running around, completing errands for the villagers and then proceeding to goof off with simon. Simon, who was currently beside you in the cool blades of grass, your pinkie fingers hooked together, too embarrassed to properly hold hands. You both speak soft promises into the sky above, the blues and pinks of the lowering yet still bright sun being covered by the patchy pattern of leaves from the tree that you and Simon had taken shelter under, being the witness to your words.

The two of you began your daily walk back, all laughs and jokes, smiles and subtle flirts.

"hah! you should have seen the fruit stall owner! the way he was chasing after me just for a simple apple."

Simon recounts his adventures of the day before you had met up for the afternoon. You sigh playfully at your thief of a friend.

"honestly, si....what am i going to do with you, hm?"

Simon smirks, loving the sound of your nickname for him on your tongue, the way you shortened his name sounded so much better than the harsh way that everyone else says it. He's about to make a crude comment most likely but you both get interrupted as you see flames and hear the distant yet deafening cries of the fellow villagers that echoes through the once peaceful afternoon.

The two of you run, as fast as you could, desperate to help, lungs burning as they frantically search for oxygen in the thick smokey air. You frantically search for your family, friends or anyone who could explain this sudden chaos.Y

Through the smoke of your burning village you and Simon come across a group of men holding torches, wearing odd metal masks, armed with blades, arrows and spears, things you'd hardly seen before in the shelter of your peaceful village. Though you both knew that it could be nothing good.

You pause, never having been in such a life threatening situation before, your instincts and common sense weren't quite up to par and why should they be when all you've known was peace, the only chaos was when Simon stole something from the market.

"um...escuse me gentlemen? Do you know-"

Your polite and timid words are abruptly cut short as they shoot an arrow, the metal tip barely missing your widened eyes and instead causing your cheek to bleed. You were frozen, you felt like crying, being sick and running away all at once. The overwhelming feeling of having danger so suddenly thrown in your face. Luckily for you, Simon managed to snap out of his own trance, grabbing you tightly and pulling you along.

"come on! we need to go!"

You run to the forrest in hopes of losing the men, weaving through the old and and sturdy trees, memories of the times you and Simon would spend hours up in the branches briefly flash in your mind before being promptly tugged again by Simon to the side, your eyes catch a glimpse of the spear that had just about missed your head.

The heavy breathing of you both echoes through the darkening forrest, your warm breath creating clouds of vapour in the air, your lungs sting with the sharpness of adrenaline and exercise.

The strange men clad in metal and weapons can be heard, their chasing relentless, voices yelling at each other to guide more of them towards you. It goes silent for a few minutes, the only noise in the seemingly empty forrest being you and Simon's heavy breathing which you both desperately tried to quiet.

You and Simon turn to each other, a smile of relief on both your faces. You were finally safe, you began to think of all the ways to save the villagers, maybe you could find a nearby lord? Or maybe they'd just leave on their own?

But it doesn't take long until everything around you seems to go dull, that relief you felt just moments ago going cold, as you watch the spear tear through Simon's chest, the cracking noise of sharpened metal breaking bones and flesh of the man you adored embedded in your memories forever. You fall to the ground with him, almost as if you had been wounded yourself. The strange men seemed to believe so anyways as they left, not even checking if you two were dead, almost like this whole thing was just for their own sick enjoyment, enjoying the pain of families watching each other die, their only relief being the hope of seeing everyone in the afterlife.

As you fell to the floor everything felt dark, dull, an empty feeling of loss covered you. The moss on the forest floor was cool against the heat of your living body. You could see the way his eyes were fading, that beautiful brown that made you think of nature and warmth, going a ghostly grey. Your hands grasp onto him.

"no...no,.no, no... si! Please dont, you have to stay with me. Im begging you! I cant be without you...si, please"

A tight feeling in your heart takes away the rest of your breath, you can't speak properly anymore, only managing garbled pleas as if that would save the dying man in your arms, as if that would get rid of the spear in his back that pierced through his chest. Through your begging you still couldn't manage to utter those three words that you'd both been hanging off the edge of your tongues, those three words that was so obvious between you yet because they were never spoken neither of you dared to go further than friends.

The trees suddenly felt like they were watching, mocking you for your feeble love, laughing at how easily he was dying. They loomed over you, the bark twisting into cruel smiles as you begged Simon to stay with you.

He tries to brave a smile, barely breathing as he gets out his final words.

"god....I love it when you call me that"

And with that you saw the playful light drain from his eyes, that oh so beautiful brown gone pale.

You cried, you don't know for how long but you remember seeing the sun disappear in the corner of your eye more than once. As you cried your grip on Simon's icy body only got tighter, as if you could transfer your warmth to him to bring him back.

Thinkin about ghost....

Ghost who sleeps with his back pressed firmly against the wall because he's been shot in the back one too many times, leaving it unprotected while he sleeps feels like a death wish to him

Ghost who bundles up his blanket to cover his front. The last thought before he sleeps is 'i hope the blanket is thick enough to stop a knife at least.'

Ghost who sleeps facing the door and with the window in a few short steps at most. He watches the door until the very last second, until sleep overpowers his eyes and they fall shut.

Ghost...who when he shares the bed for the first time practically uses you as a shield since you insisted on sharing the blanket. So of course you are now the substitute for his blanket shield. perfectly reasonable.

Ghost who, one night, falls asleep with his back facing you, not pressed up against the wall though he's still facing the door because someone needs to keep both of you safe.

Ghost who would never admit that the feeling of you pressed against his back was a lot more pleasant than the hard, cold wall, maybe even comforting.

Ghost who now can fall asleep so easily next to you, belly exposed like animals do to show trust, because he knows when he wakes up the worst thing you've done to him is draw on him.

Ghost who feels safe enough to lower his guard while sleeping.

Immortal souls

I know i should be writing my other fics but...i got a new idea so here, have some scraps

Simon and you who were bonded a long time ago, long before kings and knights. You spent your childhood together and grew up eating fruits off of trees from strangers land and it wasn't long until love blossomed just as the flowers on the trees did

However, flowers dont last forever and neither does love...or does it?

War breaks out in your small and isolated haven, both you and Simon tried to escape but the enemy was relentless.

it wasn't long until you sat there on the mossy bed of the forest, the smoke of your village being set ablaze slowly inching closer just as the claws of death were grasping for you and simon.

Unfortunately for you it turns out you're immortal, you dont know how and dear god you've tried to find out how.

Whatever cruel curse had been put upon you and simon that night, it took a while for you to figure it out but you seem to be immortal while Simon....simon wasn't, but don't fret, he got revived eventually. However his memories were long gone, barely being lost in time because you cling so desperately to them.

And now you stood in front of your one and only true love, time to relieve this hearwrenching cycle until the cruel gods take mercy on your human souls. Except...it's no longer your Simon, it's ghost now, even more broken than the last incarnation you saw of him. He speaks up, oh how accents have changed over time.

"sorry...who are you?"

should i make this into a proper fic?