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#i think a lot of this also has to do with being firmly in the post kenobi show era and trying to figure out how to move on from that

b0r3dtod3ath · 1 day

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Hello hi!

Can you do a challengers fic?

Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.

(lots of groveling)

Thank you!

Thank you for the request!

Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words.

You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is.

Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.

You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".

He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.

The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion.

The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance.

A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display. The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to.

Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down.

You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night.

For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged.

He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.

As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around - a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.

April 29, 2024

#writers on tumblr #challengers imagine #challengers x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson x reader #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you

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lilysundragon · 20 hours

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The Quality Dip in Enstars' Writing

Enstars' writing quality has always been a little up and down. I've read through a decent chunk of Basic not ALL of the stories are bangers but the ones that hit, they hit hard. There's a reason we all still talk about stories like Meteor Impact or Checkmate or, hell, my personal favorite: Requiem.

Although I think there are some really strong stories in Music like Sudden Death and Obbligato, I think that for the most part we can all agree that the writing isn't up to par. I think the first warning signs any of us really got that things were going into the shitter tho was Mad Tea Party. KnightsP kicked up a fuss about the continuity error but despite that little controversy, the errors in the stories just seem to be growing worse. From massive character pivots like Kuro suddenly treating sewing like it's just a cute little hobby to Natsume acting completely out of character in Switch climax, it seems like the writers have stopped treating the stories with the same care and attention to detail that the major stories in Basic era had. And it's really sad.

The Enstars writers have announced that they'll no longer be credited on stories (source), I think it's pretty obvious WHY they're doing this. People were NOT happy with the new Alkakurei event and leaving out the names of the writers working on the stories will certainly mitigate the harassment. I want to firmly state that sending death threats is NOT and will never be okay but I do think that it's a little alarming to know that the Enstars staff don't seem to be learning from the mistakes of the past year.

I'm a KnightsP. I'm highly biased. Although I do not condone the actions of fans who took it too far (again sending death threats is NOT the answer) I had hoped that the fuss would discourage Happy Elements from being careless with the stories in the future. People are so, so attached to these characters. The fans are passionate, motivated, highly creative people who have kept this franchise alive for NINE years. It's important to listen to their feedback so long as it's reasonable and calmly stated. I had hoped that the KnightsP were big enough that they could prevent other units from suffering a similar fate. It's kind of obvious that it isn't going to happen though. Stories continue to release that completely contradict previously established lore and mischaracterize the idols we've come to love.

I know it's hard to the writers to heed every single story ever written. There is a MASSIVE amount of lore to Enstars that has occurred over the past nine years. I also think however that just putting in the effort would go a long way to appease fans. Right now it feels like some of the writers are doing the bare minimum research for a franchise that used to have a lot of love and care put into it. If fanfic writers who put all this love and creativity into the world for free can afford to have beta readers I think Mr. Happy Elements has the means to do it too.

TLDR: I guess what I'm saying is, I've been disappointed by the quality of story writing this past year and I don't see it improving without Happy Elements taking in constructive feedback. I sincerely hope the new change in anonymity allows the writers more freedom to be creative and expressive but I don't think that will be the case.

#apparently i miss university because this is a whole ass english essay #no one's going to read this #just wanted to express my disappointment #enstars #ensemble stars

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r0semultiverse · 2 days

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Qrow’s Semblance is Fortune! 🐦‍⬛

I talked about this briefly before, having speculated that Clover’s pin carries on his good luck after death or that Qrow has just done a lot of training mentally and/or physically. @benevolentslut had some amazing additions as well & I want to sum up this theory for you as best as I can as we reached similar conclusions even before I had read her reblog.

Qrow has only been in the negative all his life, mentally and emotionally.

This man has had barely any positivity in his life.

"His whole life he's been the epitome of cynicism and pessimism." - @benevolentslut

Qrow grew up under constant stress & threat of those around him.

Needless to say, but I don't think he could trust anyone he grew up around except maybe Raven.

Then he has to constantly worry about being found out by the other huntsmen! Also growing up with the threat of huntsmen and Grimm the entire time!

Then Oz drops the whole Salem problem on him & I'm sure that didn't help his mental health in the slightest!

"His sister leaves him and their team, and then summer disappears." - @benevolentslut Yeahhhh he is losing everyone close to him in one way or another! That cannot be a fun experience!

This look like the face of a guy that's doing okay?

I'm just going to copy paste this here as I hadn't noticed it & it feels worth noting that the intensity of his misfortune seems to increase with the increasing mental strain.

While we don't know for sure that all of these things are a byproduct of Qrow's misfortune semblance, it certainly isn't out of the realm of possibility. Notice the worsening of his mental health resulting in potentially more disastrous outcomes. 😰

"we see him blaming himself constantly for everything that goes wrong, and it only causes that to become more true." - @benevolentslut

She lists a lot more examples of where Qrow's semblance has potentially worked this way in the original post. Clover comes along & starts lifting him up, giving him actual hope. He now has a little seed of hope planted in him. 🍀

Wow, Qrow is doing so good for himself lately! I sure hope nothing-

Oh... oh no. From his perspective Ruby & Yang could literally be dead. He is stricken with grief as he watches it all unfold & probably sunk back down into a negative spot mentally. He may even blame himself in some way.

When you're this low, there's a saying that goes "nowhere to go but up."

I firmly believe that Qrow would see things that way, especially after reaching his lowest point. He can only do his best to help those around him. Though he's the most alone he's ever been, he's becoming a part of a new community where people help one another. In that sense, it's impossible to be alone. In spite of it all, he slowly finds his mental health improving! Ruby's message to the world is bringing people together! 🌹

"and we see him take up clover's role, both in terms of how he's helping out around shade, and more literally, in the unmissable parallel where he catches the guy who trips." - @benevolentslut

Ruby & Clover have both filled him with hope & he's more optimistic than he's ever been, which results in bursts good fortune! ✨

There's also already a premise for shifts in mental health and trauma resulting in semblance evolution.

Cinder betrayed Neo & so she winds up in the Ever After & through her form changes is showing us that she now has negative feelings towards Cinder.

She's so upset that her semblance starts to make multiple clones of her which it has never been able to do before. Her Overactive Imagination semblance has evolved due to the state of her mental health.

Her semblance begins to evolve so much to where she can create entire architectural structures and buildings out of it!

She can even use it to talk through the people she recreates, something she's not physically capable of herself.

While we do have to take into account that the Ever After plays by rules that are a little bit different at times; this absolutely confirms that semblances, much like people, can change & grow! 💪

My conclusion: Volume 10 & beyond will show Qrow's personal semblance evolution as he finds out that his power is actually Fortune itself & the ability to control it, good and the bad.

#oh god I have to compress the gifs so much because of tumblr's gif size limit 😩#thank you for the theory fuel & the supporting points you gave!#maybe I'll do a youtube video on this topic when I come off of my semi-hiatus #wow I told myself I'd keep it brief but here we are; I'm procrastinating packing my bags & making rwby theories #I just think Qrow is a very fascinating character & if we are right about this; he will be an important player in volume 10 & onward #imagine having a guy who can manipulate fortunate on your team; that's actually so powerful as an ability if he can master it #It's not so much that the Clover ebi pin is good luck; but that Qrow himself is becoming a beacon of good fortune #Fair Game lives on in his heart & the hope he's been given even if Clover isn't here to see it #please let me know what you think in the replies; reblogs; whatever; if you have anything to add I'd love to hear all about it!#rwby theory #rwby volume 10 #rwby volume 9 #fair game #qrow x clover #rwby #qrow branwen #greenlight volume 10 #mine #op

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pandora15 · 6 months

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I wonder if I'm getting a bit sick of star wars

like there are the things that make me happy about it, especially obi-wan and the prequels and tcw but also like

I'm frustrated about what they did with ahsoka, and then I'm also just not finding fic that I can vibe with and the fandom just feels so…empty?

which is wild because it's definitely got bigger since I joined, but idk, it just feels like in the obi-wan fandom circles, it just feels like it's shrinking. and I think part of it is everyone being really busy with irl things (myself included) and then whatever is left in the sw fandom in general is just stuff i don't vibe with

but then I keep seeing it over and over and over again so now it's just irritating to me

like. yeah there are ships/tropes that I don't vibe with at all and I usually try to steer clear of them when looking for fic to read, but these days it feels like that's all I can find. so now I'm frustrated and tired and not really getting the fic fix that I want

and normally my solution to this is to just write what I want to read, but I don't have the mental space to do it, so I'm just. stuck.

a part of me feels bad to complain about this, but idk I'm gonna put it out there anyways. it's just like the fandom feels completely different than it did when I first joined, or even like 2-3 years ago, and I'm not sure if I'm happy about it.

#i think a lot of this also has to do with being firmly in the post kenobi show era and trying to figure out how to move on from that #like i don't feel much excitement for any upcoming sw content now #that might change depending on what they announce yet but. idk the ahsoka series really put me off #like idk if i'll continue watching mandoverse stuff. kinda feel like i'm done with that stuff #i'll definitely watch andor s2 and i'll definitely play the third jedi game #and then when it comes to fic i think it'll help once i have the brainspace to write #but i feel like i'm right about finding fic to read #which to be clear is no one's fault exactly #people are gonna write what they wanna write and they SHOULD #but as a reader i'm also gonna read what i feel would appeal to me most #and right now it's very difficult to find anything that does #even when it doesn't feel like i have a lot of things that i'm looking for maybe i am? without realizing it at least #idk #anyways #i have a weird relationship with sw. moral of the story #pandora's ramblings

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marshmellowtea · 1 year

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idk i guess my philosophy when it comes to damien and mark has always been like.....damien isn't a bad guy, really, i do think he has good intentions most of the time, but given the environment he's in and how much money and power he has access to, it makes sense to me that he'd occasionally stoop to underhanded or scummy methods to get what he feels like he needs or deserves. meanwhile mark is also not a bad guy—though he certainly tends to be more selfish than damien—but he's been severely hurt and has never been properly supported through all of it due to a combination of the time period he's in, the people he's around not fully understanding him, and his own self destructive tendencies. oh, and house entity also. that's very much a factor here.

#markiplier #who killed markiplier #actor mark #damien the mayor #marshy speaks #....does it surprise anyone i still have a lot of thoughts about this series? it's kind of surprising me ngl #i'm firmly in lila territory interest-wise but wkm is always going to occupy a special piece of my brain ig #anyway once again 'actor has trauma from even before wkm' truthing #as well as 'damien is not super innocent' truthing #i wish i had something to say about will here to complete the trifecta but idk i guess he just doesn't feel super relevant here #and besides i never really did figure out what i was doing with him character wise #even with all my thoughts about his and mark's tumultuous love-hate filled brotherhood #i think he's also. primarily traumatized. as a motive to why he's Like That #along with the stress of being outside the class that his friends are in #i'm still a 'will was a child of one of the iplier servants truther' as well i really think that makes the most sense #anyway i guess i'm getting sidetracked. just. yeah.

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stevenose · 29 days

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disarm (18+)

contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina; reader is called ‘girl’ once; sexual tension; drunk!flirty!steve; lil bit of inspection kink; size kink; teasing; no smut just whorish vibes

author note: i hope you folks like it! i won’t be doing a part 2 of this one, but hope you enjoy the tension :)

Steve’s always saying weird shit to you when he’s drunk.

You know he’s just uninhibited. That if he were sober he’d be so embarrassed. You keep telling yourself that, at least.

The first time he approaches you like this, he asks, “What color underwear you got on?”

You humor him, tipsy yourself. “Take a guess.”

Steve really looks like he’s thinking, dilated pupils staring deep into yours. “Red?”

“Nope.” you can’t stop looking at him, and he isn’t looking away either. “They’re blue, actually.”

“How’d you know that’s my favorite color?” he asks, voice low, leaning forward to rest his palm on your knee.

“Oh, you think I wore them for you?”

“I wish.”

He’s easily distracted and the conversation goes no further. It’s easy to shrug him off. You know he’s a whore, anyway - have to hear about his most recent date every time you see him.

But then it happens again.

Steve stops you in the hallway at the next party, his warm hand curling around your bicep gently. Makes you stop walking to look at him.

“Havin’ fun?” he asks. His t-shirt is cut low - your eyes are drawn to the dark patch of hair on his chest.

“I think so.”

He grins, borderline diabolical. Teeth straight and white, blunt edges that could bite bruises into your skin. “There’s a free bedroom upstairs if you wanna have more.”

“Huh?”

“I said -“ he leans in towards you, until the tip of his nose touches yours, “- there’s a free bedroom upstairs if you want to have more fun.”

He doesn’t stay very serious, however. He giggles, pulls away from you and winks before continuing on his way. You roll your eyes after him, trying to brush off the way he made your stomach flip. He apparently doesn’t fuck without a first date, anyway.

And then it just sort of keeps happening. Sometimes he’d just stare at you, mouth slightly agape, watching you from the other side of the room. Or he’d make sure his palm presses firmly against the small of your back as he “squeezes past” you to grab another drink, despite there being a five foot clearance.

One night, when he’s more drunk than usual - something to do with a bad week at work - he goes a lot farther than he has. He finds you in the corner of the living room, looking at the lines in your own palm.

“Hey,” he says, quite loudly, startling you.

When you look up, he’s extremely close to you. Eyes soft, but staring into yours. He smells like maraschino cherries, no doubt from the strawberry daiquiris he won’t admit he loves. “Hi,” you breathe, trying to look at his eyes, but they keep moving languidly from your eyes to your lips to your chest. Your breasts peak out from the scoop-neck of the baby tee you’re wearing. And, okay, it’s baby blue - you may have worn it just to see what he’d do.

“Can I help you?” you ask.

He nods, nose slanting downwards towards your tits. “Y’never really wear stuff like that.”

You shake your head. “Not really.”

“Why not?”

You grin. “Because pervs like you will stare.”

He scoffs. “That’s ‘stactly why you shouldn’t be wearin’ it here.”

Your eyes narrow at him. Now he’s just being annoying. “Oh, are you mad?”

“A little.” He licks his lips, tongue stained red from the mixer. “You should only be wearin’ somethin’ like that when you’re gonna get fucked.”

Your eyes widen, heart hammering in your chest, enough to feel it in your throat. He’s never been so forward before. And he’s backing you into the wall, trapping you in - very deliciously.

He tilts his head, highlighted hair bobbing over his forehead. “Are you gonna get fucked tonight?”

You swallow hard, blood icy cold. You’re not used to this tango, not with him. “You tell me.”

Steve blinks like he’s also shocked, goes a little slack jawed. He looks down at your tits, then back up. “I think you should get fucked tonight.”

Your hand clenches around your drink, threatening to fall to the floor. You’re weak, sore and needy between the legs.

Perhaps he’s willing to make an exception for the date rule for you.

“Will I?”

“With tits like those?” He nods down again. “Bet you’ve got the sweetest nipples. You like havin’ ‘em bit? Sucked?”

You wonder if he feels the heat radiating off of your face. “Steve,” you say, trying to give him a warning. You can’t breathe, knees beginning to shake. “What kind of friend asks that?”

His jaw clenches, then unclenches. “So you just see me as a friend?”

You bite your cheek. “That’s what you are, aren’t you? Or do you know something I don’t?”

“I -“

You’re both startled by the sound of champagne popping, shrieks and woops breaking you out of whatever you were just entangled in. And Steve, so easily distracted, groans and marches towards the kitchen, shouting, “I told you to take that shit outside!”

You inhale deep, thumping chest caving in, collarbones turning sharp. It’s suddenly so cold without him in front of you. You run a hand through your hair and look around, spotting Robin grinning at you from ear to ear. You roll your eyes at her and move through the living room to get some water and air.

You wonder if he’ll even remember when he’s sober. If he’ll apologize for asking something so insane. But he either doesn’t remember or wants to forget, because when you’re back to return tapes two days later he acts completely normal. It isn’t a bad thing - it’s a bit fun to play with him in such a non-serious way. Though you do find his hands gripping the next tape you rent for a bit too long, shoves your change into your hand and lets his palm linger against yours.

Another get together - you can hardly call it a party when there’s only ten people present - brings you back to his apartment two weeks later. It’s much more low key and he, in turn, drinks much less. He still gets drunk, though - laughing loudly, freckled neck on display. Does things he gives Robin shit for. You laugh beside her when she scoffs at him, throwing a pillow across the way to hit him in the back of the head.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” she says. “Do you want one?”

You tell her you’re okay and she’s off, leaving the couch beside you empty. Which Steve notes. Immediately.

“What’s a place like you doin’ in a girl like this?”

“You invited me,” you remind, the couch dipping as he sits beside you.

“Ohhh. And why’d I do that?”

You hum, trying to suppress a smile. “I don’t know. You must like me.”

He narrows his eyes. “You know I do.”

You’re already getting horny again. “Because I leave big tips for you?”

“And what do you know about big tips, huh?”

You laugh, a little shrill, feeling very much on the spot. Then he grabs your hand, pulling it up against his. You assume he’s comparing the size - a clear flirting tactic - and you watch him with much adoration as he examines them together. His first knuckle is able to come down on your finger tips and he grins. “You’ve got small hands.”

“Maybe yours are just freakishly big.”

“Wanna know what else is?”

Which, truly, in any other situation this would be funny. But it so isn’t. His words are deathly serious to you.

“Well, it can’t be your brain.”

Steve scoffs again. “Oh, funny.”

Out of nowhere, you’re doused with something cold. Robin’s tripped on the rug, spilling her wine on you. You gasp just as she says, “Oh, shit!”

“Rob-in!” Steve sounds more than exasperated with her, but it’s hard to take it seriously when he’s slurring.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry - I got - I tripped - with my big clown feet - oh my god, are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” you promise, despite the huge red stain on your white shirt. It’s still dripping down you, onto your skirt. Drenched. “Uh, let me go to the bathroom.”

“I’ll help,” Steve says, stumbling when he stands, helping you off the couch. You’re certain he won’t be much help but you accept his assistance anyway.

You’ve noticed how Steve gets into these dad modes. Like, one time Robin choked on a lemon seed that was in her water and Steve wouldn’t let her drink without him checking her cup for two months afterwards. And there was the time that Eddie, clumsier than Robin, tripped and scraped his knee, and Steve acted like Eddie was five. So now it’s your turn, ushered into his bathroom while he props you against the counter and scrounges around for a towel.

“It’s okay,” you say, “I’m just wet.”

“I got it,” he assures, running a washcloth under the tap. You’re sure he thinks he’s helping, as much as he can when he’s inebriated, but you’re very certain a wet washcloth won’t help. He swats your hands away when you try to take it from him, and he starts blotting the wine.

His hair in your face smells fruity, like his hairspray. “Steve, I don’t think this is doin’ much.”

His brows are knitted in concentration. “‘s almost out.”

You look down. It is not.

But you let him feel important anyway. Watching as he dabs and dabs and dabs over your sternum. His breath tickling your neck. And now that the shock has worn off, you’re getting turned on again. By his attention, how he’s trying to help, how his big fucking paws are right there. You’re practically begging god to make him do something when his hands start wandering.

Steve brings the towel over your breast, blotting as usual, then slowing. Like it’s clicking what he’s doing. And then he presses a little harder, lingers for a while. His palm touching you more than the cloth. His eyes drift up to yours as he moves towards the other. And instead of blotting, his hand cups it.

You simply let him.

The cold has made your nipples perk up under your bralette. Steve’s thumb swipes over the hardened nub. You both stare at each other, willing the other to do more, but it’s left in a stalemate. Steve throws the washcloth in the sink, lets his hand slide over your heart.

“Heartbeat’s so fast,” he observes softly. “What’s that all about, huh?”

You swallow hard. “Lot of excitement.”

His eyes drift down. “I can tell.”

You take a big breath, looking away from him. “Do you have something I could borrow?”

“Like what?”

“Like, a shirt?”

Steve blinks, looking sad. “Oh. Yeah, yeah, prob’ly.”

As you walk behind him to his room, you decide you’ll throw him a bone whenever the opportunity arises. You certainly can’t have him thinking you don’t like his attention. You watch him clumsily rifle through his closet before he finds a black sweater that’ll match your skirt well enough.

It makes you dizzy how it smells like him, even freshly laundered. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.” Steve simply stands in front of you, hands on his hips, lips pulled in tight. Looking at you like he’s thinking really hard.

You bite your lip, heartbeat fastening again. You turn from him to place the shirt on his bed, which seems to snap him out of whatever stupor he’s in. He clears his throat and turns to leave, but you call after him.

“Steve?”

He turns, brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

You inhale deep before slowly peeling your shirt off of you. Taking your time, letting it catch on the curve of your breasts. You let it slip to his floor and you continue watching him. Watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, his nostrils flaring, chestnut eyes staring right at your bra-clad chest. You’re so hot you’re beginning to sweat - and then you reach behind you to unclasp your wet bralette.

Steve’s jaw drops comically slow as it joins your shirt on the floor. You can’t help but to smile.

“What do you think?” you ask quietly.

He shakes his head slowly. “Think you’ve been holdin’ out on me.”

You press your tits together with your arms as you shrug at him, turning around to fetch the sweater he’s given you. You figure it’ll be enough for him to know you’re wearing his shirt, chest bare underneath, but then he says, “Your skirt is wet, too.”

You don’t turn to look at him as you grab the fabric, leaning forward for it. “Don’t suppose you have one for me to borrow?”

You didn’t even hear him walking up behind you. You’re suddenly pressed into the bed, his hand pushing down on the space between your shoulder blades to keep you against the mattress. Your breath hitches, stomach flipping. You feel how hard he is against your ass, and he grinds once before sliding down to kneel behind you.

“What are you doing?” you breathe.

“Checkin’ out the damage.” His hands push your skirt up, up, up, until it rests above your ass. You feel his breath fanning across the back of your thighs. “Y’know,” he continues casually, “since you said you’re wet.”

Your breaths turn shallow. Steve’s hands, warm and soft, run up the backs of your thighs slowly. You part them for him. Heat rushes to your face when he laughs behind you, but he doesn’t say anything. Must just be overjoyed that you’re letting him do this.

His hands move to your hips, squeezing them slightly before tucking his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You’re so dizzy it almost makes you sick - but you wait patiently as he slowly pulls them down.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding,” he observes quietly. Lets your underwear hang around your knees. “All this for me?”

“Yes,” you whine. “Been - you’ve been working me up for weeks.”

“I know.”

You want to call him a bastard, but you’re stunned into silence when he parts your folds. The sound it makes is embarrassing to you, but Steve coos at it. “You’ve got such a pretty pussy. Knew you would.”

You exhale shakily. “Steve….”

“Fucked my fist to it,” he admits. “But I didn’t think it’d be so tiny.”

And then one of his fingers presses against your hole. Just enough. You short circuit, electric running through you, knees going weak. Steve’s free hand steadies them, fingers splayed out along your skin.

“Can you even get any fingers in here?” he mumbles. Circles your little hole, your eyes crossing. “Know your hands are so tiny, too.”

“No,” you force yourself to say. “Not really.”

He sounds contemplative. “Just one of mine would split you in two.”

His finger trails down, resting at your swollen clit for a few short moments before he pulls away, yanking your underwear back up.

You feel more than upset. Devastated that he’s pulled away. You want to grab him, cunt hurting from the teasing with no relief.

“Steve-“

“You know I don’t fuck without a date first,” he grins. As if he didn’t just ruin your life with whatever that was. Like he didn’t just turn you into his cock-dumb whore. Jesus Christ, if he told you to spend the rest of the night topless, you would. “So here’s what’s gonna happen, okay?”

Then he’s back, leaning over you, pushing you into his bed. His cock really straining against his jeans while he presses into your ass. He puts his lips right up against your ear. “You’re gonna get dressed ‘nd we’re gonna party, ‘kay? Then tomorrow I’m gonna pick you up and take you for breakfast.” He ruts himself into you and you moan. “Sorry, sweetheart. ‘m usually a dinner guy but I can’t wait that long to have you. How’s nine sound?”

“You… there’s n-no way you’re going to be up at nine.”

He scoffs. “‘ve got an alarm clock.”

You press your ass back into him. “You’ll forget.”

“Haven’t forgotten you so far.” Grinds against you again.

“You remember when you’re sober?”

“Honey. You’re all I’ve been able to think about.”

Then he’s off of you, leaving your tits pressed to his mattress, overwhelmed. He walks towards his desk while you desperately try to stand - your legs are still shaking. Your fingers curl around his sweater just as he comes back, arm marked up with a pen.

BREAKFAST AT 9 WITH HOTTIE :)

“See? Won’t forget.”

You’re still not so sure - you’ll have to wait and see. As you finally start pulling his sweater on, he grabs your bra, tucking it into his back pocket. “I’ll wash it for you,” he says, patting it.

“Yeah? After you cum in it?”

Steve smiles deviously. “You wanna watch me do it?”

#steve harrington smut #steve x reader #stevenose writes #ns/fw #robin tripped on purpose. btw

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seasonal-brotp-prompts · 2 months

Text

A friend of mine asked me once how I could tell the difference between experiencing romantic and platonic attraction. I'd like to restate my thoughts here, since I think they could be useful for some people!

First of all, Intensity =/= Romance. Platonic feelings can be just as strong as romantic ones, although the amatonormativity we live in pretends otherwise. Because of that, I used to often wonder if my squishes are actually crushes. Nowadays, I just go through a series of questions and feel much more at peace afterwards!

"Do I have a crush on this person?"

Ask yourself:

Do I want to kiss them?

On the mouth? With tongue?

Do I want them to kiss me?

Do I want to go on dates with them?

Alone? Would I like it more or less in a group setting with other friends?

Do I like the idea of being seen as a "pair?"

Do I want to live with them?

Forever?

Do I want to marry them?

What does an ideal wedding look like, in my head?

Do I like the idea of them confessing to me?

If I have any interest in children, am I interested in raising children alongside them?

Do I want to exchange gifts with them annually on dates like Valentine's and/or an anniversary?

Do I (in general) enjoy traditional romantic gifts like flowers or jewelry?

Would I enjoy receiving those gifts from the person in question?

If they told me they just got a new partner, would I feel negatively about that?

Do I feel that same negativity when other people I'd never be interested in romantically (family members, etc.) announce they have new partners? Or is it just the person in question?

If sex is a romantic thing for me, do I want to have sex with them?

Answering "yes" to a single one of these questions doesn't mean I have a crush. But answering "yes" to many of them would indicate romantic feelings.

For me, this is a relief, because when I apply these questions to my friends and squishes, I typically react with disgust and RESOUNDING "no"s. Kissing, dating, annual gift obligations, marriage, and co-parenting all squick me out and make me recoil.

A lot of aros (especially baby or questioning ones) might also answer "yes" to a hypothetical they haven't experienced themselves, but then change their answer to "no" later. I know I used to think being confessed to would be flattering (even by someone I didn't reciprocate), but now that it's happened to me a few times, I know how awkward and awful it is. Same with kissing; I thought I'd like it because everyone in media likes it, but actually trying it (with girls and boys) has firmly cemented me in the reality that I just hate mouth kissing.

But, I still thought it might be useful for some aros who struggle with their identity due to all the arophobia and amatonormativity trying to make them question their feelings!

(It might also be helpful for someone trying to figure out if they're gay/bi and have a crush on someone, idk)

#aromantic #lgbt+#queer #queerplatonic #crushes

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ambrosiagoldfish · 2 months

Note

Can you write more Adam fics plz there so freaking good

Benefit of the Doubt PT.2

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff to Angst to comfort, General Adam TW’s, Reader lowkey-highkey has a complex about being loved, Panic attack (I’m not even sure if this is correct term or not), Adam is afraid of heights (makes sense in story) This is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader (Y/n is once again not used lol)

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 3136

A/N: Hi! I’d like to Thank you all for the love and support on Part 1! It means a lot that you all enjoyed it as I loved writing it! I’d also like to apologize for this being a week late, I honestly had 0 idea on how to start this one and then a bunch of stuff in my life happened, so it was a mess.

So as an apology I tried to make this one longer than the first! (I seemed to go a little overboard but it’s fine)

Anyways I hope you all enjoy part 2 to ‘Benefit of the doubt’ and as always, if you do, please tell me if want another part in replies/requests/DM’s!

Proofread but of course could have missed something

Tags: @tired-of-life-86

To think love could feel this good.

You were made for it, to give it, receive it… You’ve waited your entire existence for this love, This closeness. It doesn’t even feel real now, even as you’re walking down the golden lined streets of heaven with his arm wrapped around you, all while you’ve been showing him around. The best places to eat, entertainment, or just a nice park. You made sure to show him all of it.

He kept his wings tucked to his sides, the gold contrasting with the white of his robe. The feathers at first glance looked sharp, but now, being so close to him, you could see each of them individually and how soft they must be.

“Hey Sweetcheeks, my eyes are up here”

You jump slightly “Sorry… Adam.” You avert your eyes away from him and focus them in front of you.

Adam laughed “I didn’t say you had to fuxkin’ to stop”

His wings truly were beautiful. It was hard to keep your eyes off them. Adam had only got to heaven recently, it made you wonder if he had the chance to use them yet. You remember when you were first created, wings took forever to get used to. You crashed and fell so many times before you figured out how to use them

Properly.

“Ok seriously, you keep staring, what the fxck is up with you?”

“It’s nothing, just…. Have you tried out your wings yet?”

“Uh, yeah totally, they’re rad as hell” Adam’s voice drifted off, the LED eyes of his mask looking away from you as you both walked. Was he… lying? Why would he lie?

You quickly walked in front of Adam, leaving his warm embrace, gently you took his hands as your wings picked you off the ground. The gust of wind with each flap softly blew around you.

“Well, come on, it will be faster than walking.” Your voice was soft and airy. Slowly, so very slowly, you lifted yourself higher from the ground, Adam’s hands locked firmly in yours, as he was pulled with you in the air.

“W-Wait a- shit- Wait a- motherfuxking second“ Adam yelled strand after strand of curses as you both lifted further and further into the air. His body flailed and his legs kicked against nothing. You pull him to you, his arms quickly snake around your waist, holding on for his dear After-life.

“Adam… did you lie to me?” Your voice was still so soft, so calm, so sweet.

“Fuck- yes I lied, I’m sorry, so put me the fuck down you crazy asshole-“ Vulgar as ever, his voice had fear in it, the LED eyes were forced shut and his grip around you was getting tighter and tighter.

Your arms wrapped around Adam’s head as you laid back, letting The wind breeze from the air pull and push you along its path with your wings soaring through the clouds..

“Adam, it’s ok, I promise you’re fine, all you have to do is open your eyes.”

You pet the back of his neck trying to sooth him which seemed to work after a few seconds. Adam didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to open his eyes. But the longer he kept them close, the more you would whisper soft words of encouragement to him. Eventually, his eyes slowly but surely opened.

“See? There is nothing to be scared of. I’ve got you.”

You hold him closer in your embrace. Adam looked below, the white vastness of heaven’s clouds beneath you both felt unreal, but as amazing a sight it was, Adam’s grip on you didn’t loosen.

“So… I’m guessing you don’t know how to fly yet?” You laugh a little, rubbing a spot on his back, just between his wings comfortingly.

Adam huffed and looked away “oh! I couldn’t fxcking see that!”

You held him close to you. The embrace seemed never ending, and you loved every second of it. Feeling the warmth of his plump body next to you was like a dream come true.

“Here let me just…”

You moved your hands slowly down his arms, caressing the soft flesh as they moved to eventually be at his hands behind you. You began to leisurely undo the grip he had around you.

“What do you think you're doing-“

“Shhh, relax, just trust me, ok?”

With each finger being removed from you, the grip lessened bit by bit, until eventually his hands were fully in yours. Your face leaned closer to his,

“Come on, just give your wings a good flap, trust me.”

“Ugh…. Fine but I swear to god if you let go-“

“I won’t.” Your voice was firm, yet still remained reassuring.

Adam didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t want to. But what other choice did he have? He gruffs and extends his wings from his body. The wind brushed and tickled at his feathers. The way the light hit them caused a glare of gold to be cast from them, enveloping you both. Then, he gave two hard flaps of his wings, he lifted up slightly before quickly falling back to where he was.

“There you go! Now keep doing that.”

Adam continued, his wings slowly pushing him up and up before being sent back down when he stopped. This repeated for a few minutes until he finally got a grip on it. The entire time, you were laughing. Pure unadulterated laughs of joy.

Truly, to think love could feel this good?

“See? You're a natural!”

“Of course I am! I’m the Original Dick, obviously I’d… be good at this… flying… shit.” With all the parading he was doing he kept forgetting to use his wings causing him to fall. ‘A natural’ may have been an overstatement on your part, but hey? At least he hasn’t fallen flat on his face yet!

Gently, you led him through air, giving him reassurance every few feet you flew, never letting go. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours. Before you knew it a brisk orange sunset encased you both with its hue. That’s when you realized just how long you both had been flying.

“You must be tired with sightseeing all day… I think it’s time we go home and rest, yeah?”

“Home?” Adam’s voice sounded for a moment genuinely confused. Had he not been told he’d have a place to live in heaven? As much respect you had for Sera, you’ll have to file a complaint to avoid this with future souls.

You gripped his hand and opened your wings letting the wind lead you through the clouds and above the city. The angels below look like ants at the height you both were. It was peaceful, the flight back home. But it did seem… off? So… quiet? You couldn’t put it together, at least not at the moment, But Adam hadn’t spoken a word since you both left.

Adam, while yes, he was initially confused, it made sense to him, why wouldn’t heaven have a place for its people, a place for each of them to relax, to feel safe, happy, at home.

Home was such a weird word for Adam. Has he ever felt like a place was his ‘home’? The closest thing to it was the Garden of Eden but even that proved to be anything but a home for him. Ever since that snake entered his garden.

No. He can’t think about that now. He doesn’t want to have to think about that again. But oh-do thoughts love to worm their way back into your mind when you least want them to. He’s snaps out of his thoughts when your voice picks up

“Ok, we’re here! Just get yourself settled in and I’ll go make us something to eat. I didn't really know what food you’d like so I mainly just have junk food… I hope that's ok.”

Adam nods his head nonchalantly

You smile, waking him over to the small, plush couch in the living room and handing him a blanket and some pillows. Telling him to wait a second as you fetch some food, leaving him alone.

Adam thought your house seemed welcoming enough, ‘well… our house’ Adam thought. The living room was dark aside from a few luminous lights around the room as well as the small blue gleam from the windows from the night sky.

The couch was comfortable and the pillows just as much. And the blanket you gave him was soft and warm. This really was heaven, huh?

His thoughts are, once again, interrupted by your voice, “Ok here we go, I’ve got snacks and some soda” you say, handing him some of the many food you ravaged from your fridge and sitting beside him, wrapping yourself in the shared blanket.

Grabbing the remote lying next to you, you flick on the TV flipping through the channel before ending on a cheesy sitcom, you keep the volume low wanting to enjoy any conversation with Adam. Except… he never started one. So that’s what felt off.

The entire time you flew back home, got snacks and found something to watch. He hadn't said a word. You may not have known him long but even you had already picked up that he was an advid talker in a conversation.

“Is… everything ok Adam?” You whispered, not want to scare him with your random words.

“What kind of question is that, I’m fxcking fine… I’m fine.” His voice trailed off at the end almost getting as quiet as yours.

“Are you sure cause-“

“I said I’m fuxking fine!” His voice roared through the dark room. Gritty and callous, but you could tell it was meant to hide something. Something he didn’t want you to see.

“I’m sorry…” you paused. What did you want to say from here? What could you say? You took a deep breath and tried to continue. “I… I know I said this earlier… when Sera left.”

Adam’s LED mask looked away from you half shut eyes and a frown forming a scowl on it, but still he let you continue.

“But I’m going to say it again anyways cause… I mean it. I’m really happy to have you here. To finally have you home” you place your arm around Adam’s back rubbing it soothingly as let your head slowly lax onto him, gently cuddling close to him.

That word again… home. That’s all he could think about ever since he first heard you say it. Why? Why couldn’t he get it out of his head? His breathing was becoming unsteady with each new thought and image his brain made. Lilith and Eve, they were made to be apart of his home, for him to be apart of their homes. So why? Why did it end that way?

Suddenly Adam leap from the couch as fast as he could, the shear force knocking you to the other side of the couch, sending the food to scatter and drinks to spill to the floor.

“Adam!?” Your voice was frightened at the sudden movement. Adam looked just as frightened as you, at least from what you could tell through the LED mask. He suddenly began running, where? he didn’t know, the rooms in the house looked the same. But all he knew is that he needed to be away from you. You followed quickly behind him and pleaded for him to tell you what was wrong, but eventually he ran into a room and locked the door.

He looked around, already out of breath. He was in a bathroom. He felt his knees give out under him as he tried to slowly sit down by the tub. His breath heavy, it was hard to breathe, this stupid mask. He needed it off. But just as he went to do so,

*rattle rattle rattle*

The doorknob began to move followed by frantic knocking on the door.

“Adam! Are you ok?!” Your voice pleaded through the wood of the door.

“Fuxk- I'm fine! How many times do I have to tell you that shit” his voice cracked a few times followed by a strand of curses leaving his lips.

Home. The word repeated like a mantra in his head. Like it was mocking him. Was he not meant to have a place he called a home? To have someone to return to, who would tell him “welcome back!” Without even being told to?

Lilith hated him, Eve betrayed and hurt him like no one else before, ever. They were made to be with him, one was literally made to be his other half. The garden, his home, was taken from him because of something, someone he couldn’t control. it all comes back to him. That albino snake in the grass.

Lucifer, ‘The dreamer’… was this some sort of game to him? To toy with his emotions, treat him like some kind of plaything to mess with, to screw over? What kind of life was it? To have every opportunity and opening be broken down by him, And Adam being powerless to stop it?

“Adam! Please open the door!” Your voice was even more frantic now, knocking every few seconds before it quickly quieted down. Your body slumped against the door.

“Adam… I’m sorry if I hurt you or… or if I was going too fast… I didn't mean to… I’m so sorry…” your breath hitched with tears.

And then there was you.

You have been nothing but kind to him since you met him. You showed him around heaven, taught him how to fly and welcomed him home without having being told to. You were so different. So, so very different. Adam figure that out a while ago now. But in reality, it’s exactly why he was terrified.

To have someone who loves him so... unconditionally.

*click*

The sound of the door unlocking drew your attention and was followed by it slowly opening from Adam on the other side, still on the floor.

“Adam!” Your voice was low, already tired from crying. You crawled your way toward him before stopping in front of him, tears still falling from your face, “I’m sorry Adam, I’m sorry-“ you were cut off by a quick movement.

Warmth enveloped you, clouding your senses as a soft weight laid onto you. Arms wrapped their way around you in an embrace.

“Shit- it's not your fault, it was never your fault…” Adam’s voice was surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his regular tone. Sincerity evident with each word. All you could do was hide into his large frame and cry at the words.

Adam was never good at comforting people. He himself was never comforted, so the concept was more than a bit foreign to him. But even still, he tried. Slowly he helped you both up from the bathroom floor and made your way back to the couch.

The floor was covered in the discarded food you both left behind. The spilled soda is now dried and sticky. Crumbs everywhere.

“Here.. let me get a mop and broom-“

“No just sit down, I’ll clean up the shit I made” you lay down on the couch and watched as Adam swept and mopped the mess from the floor. The entire time the silence hung in the air by a thread. Neither of you wanting to be the one to snap the string and speak.

Finally Adam got done cleaning the mess and made his way to the couch. He sat down and gestured for you to come closer. Crawling over to him, he wrapped the blanket around you both allowing you to snuggle into him.

“Do…” your voice barely audible “Do you want to talk about it?”

Adam looked hesitant but nodded.

“You know about everything, right? About… what all happened in Eden?

You nod against his chest content on listening.

“When… When Lilith left me, I thought I didn't care as much as I did. I thought she was a bitch and that was that. And it didn’t help that as soon as she left, I got Eve…”

He paused

“Then, when I found out about that shit between Eve and Lucifer… I didn’t care then either, but I didn’t understand why…” his voice hitched “but when I ate that damn apple… I realized how hurt I should have been. All the concepts of right and wrong, good and evil, learning all of it through that fruit, I realized one shitty truth… that the one I loved betrayed me.”

You hugged him tighter softly, your hands caressed his stomach as some form of comfort before he continued.

“For the same person- Both of them for that snake…”

“Adam… I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“And that’s why… I’m scared. Scared that I will fuxk up again and get… attached to you. Because every. single. time. He ruins it. And I don't want to see that happen with you.”

Your heart ached for him, the saddening look of his LED mask as he talked only furthered your emotions. Slowly your hands made their way to his face, he looks at you confused, your fingertips crept under the mask before his hand shot up and held your wrist slightly, carefully not holding it too tight.

“Sorry fuck- I’m.. I’m not ready.”

You smile and nod understanding “Adam. I love you… with all of my heart. And I would never do what those two done to you. “

Adam thought for a moment deciding what to say.

“Promise?” was all he could think of, his voice, mind, and body were all too tired to speak more about it.

You slowly remove your hands from his mask, instead taking one of his hands into yours.

“I promise, I would never betray you, let alone talk to that man” ever-so lightly, a soft golden glow burned between yours and Adam’s hands, the gold flame was warm and comforting to both of you as it rose and grew in strength.

From the flame, a string wrapped and warped itself around both yours and Adam’s pinky fingers. The string tightened and loosened as it moved, before finally melting away leaving only two solid gold rings behind, One on Adam’s finger and the other on yours.

“What the hell was that?” Adam’s voice was filled with bewilderment

“A deal- or I guess a promise. In this case”

“Shit, You didn’t have to do that-“ this time it was your turn to interrupt him. You bring Adam’s hand to your lips, and give a kiss on his newly formed ring before lying down and cuddling into Adam.

“I know.”

For once in his life, Adam felt at ease with love. How easy it was to fall for you.

Is this what home feels like?

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nanaslutt · 3 months

Text

NSFW alphabet w/ Hiromi Higuruma

ft. fem reader ^.^

MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

A- Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

I think Higuruma takes a long time to recover after sex. I don't think he has a ton of experience so after he cums, especially from your manipulation, it takes a lot out of him and makes him go braindead for a bit. Once he recovered from his high, I think he'd be super attentive. Clinging to you and burring his head in your neck, asking you if anything hurts. He would insist on carrying you to the shower or bath and bathing you, washing your hair and body, etc, making sure you were all clean of your shared mess before taking you back to bed.

B- Body part (their fav part of their own, and their partner's body)

This one might be obvious, but I think he really likes his nose. I suspect he might've had insecurities around it before but once he figured out how much you loved it, both in and out of the bedroom, he grew to love it. How he can put a body part such as a nose to benefit your pleasure makes him ecstatic beyond belief. As for your body, I think he really loves your waist.

Higuruma gives me the vibes that he's not huge on PDA, but he loves holding your waist as you stand in line for a treat. His hands seem to find the slope of your waist so naturally whenever he's on top of you and kissing you. His grip tightens as the kiss grows deeper and hotter. It's just a comfortable place for him. Your waist also gives him the perfect leverage to pull you down on his cock, immobilizing you when you try to run away from his deep thrusts.

C- Cum (anything to do with cum)

Higuruma cums a loottttt. I think it ties in with him being so sexually inactive for so long, so when he finally gets to put his cock to good use, he cums thick, long loads. He leaks a lot of precum too. Whether your kissing, or you graze his hand underneath the table at dinner with friends, rubbing his cock over his clothes while you kiss, getting him fully hard- he's always leaking. This leads to frequent boxer changes and an impressive stash of boxers, but he can't help it.

As for his favorite place to cum, all over your pussy or on your face. Those places are his and his alone, and he loves to see your most intimate spots covered and marked by his seed. He's not the type to take pictures in case his phone gets hacked, but every time he shoots his seed over your folds and inner thighs, he makes sure to spread you open nice and wide while he rubs his cum around on your sensitive cunt, memorizing how pretty it looks.

He craves the desperate and needy look on your face when he cums there. You always look too eager to pleasure him and aren't shy in the slightest about showing that. Your disheveled appearance is only enhanced in beauty by his white ropes of cum. The way you look at him as if he hung the stars in the sky like he isn't painting your face white makes his cock throb, ready to give you another load. He just can't fathom someone as perfect as you craves him so bad, it makes him feel hot all over.

D- Dirty secret

Higuruma is a panty sniffer 100%. You're constantly wondering where your new panties go and you never guess it's your loving, sweet boyfriend who's stealing them. He loves eating you out, and when you're too busy working, too tired, or out of the house, what better way to simulate eating your cunt than placing your panties over his mouth while he jerks himself off.

He would be so nasty with it too, licking and sucking your wetness against the fabric, trying to taste you with his hand firmly around his cock, eyes shut as he tries to picture you sitting on his face, suffocating him with your thighs as he licks and slurps up your arousal greedily. He also loves jerking himself off with them, especially if your panties were recently removed, so he can still feel you. But the harsh rubbing of the cloth on his cock can get a bit obnoxious, and nothing stimulates his cock more than your scent, so he prefers the first option.

E- Experience (do they know what they're doing?)

I don't think he has much experience at all, if any. Maybe after a long day, he went to the bar to drink away his worries after a hard trial, and some girl ended up wrapping herself around her arm and persuaded him to take her home, but I can't see him having done anything more than that.

Despite his lack of experience though, I think he knows what he's doing fairly well. He kinda wings it, using his arousal and excitement to lead him in doing whatever feels right, but it ends up working for you and him both.

Higutuma is a very good listener, and he's extremely attentive and has an amazing memory, so whenever he finds a spot on your body that makes you tick, you better bet it's engraved in his brain and it's not going anywhere. When you two first had sex, he was so excited and it clearly showed in his actions. He's had so much he's wanted to try with someone, and now that he finally had someone to try his fantasies with, he was going a bit crazy.

He was grinding himself against you while kissing you in a frenzy, loud breaths and deep groans mixing into the kiss. He was sucking at your neck and trailing his kisses down to your chest, where he made sure to abuse your nipples thoroughly, so much so they were sore the day after. When it came to working you open for him, Higuaruma was so excited. He always knew he preferred giving pleasure over receiving, the majority of the porn he's watched being guys eating their girlfriends out and things of that nature.

So when it came to you, put his very small amount of knowledge to good use. He knew what and where the clit was, but he underestimated just how good it made you feel. He got a bit pussydrunk as he was eating you out, rapidly shaking his head back and forth against you, sliding his tongue over your folds wherever it could reach, licking and slurping on you impatiently, and it always worked for you, leading to the most mindblowing orgasm every single time.

F- Favorite position

Missionary or mating press. It always starts as a missionary, but quickly leads to your body being folded into a dizzying position when he gets carried away, lost in how good your cunt feels wrapped around him. I think he's really into cuddlefucking too. He wakes up with a boner nine times out of ten and always relies on you to help him get rid of it, suggesting the interaction by slowly humping his hard cock against your ass while he wraps his arms tightly around your body, his head buried in your hair.

"I'll go slow, you can go back to sleep if you want. Just need to cum, 'm so hard." He whispered quietly. His filthy admission never fails to leave you a leaking mess as you nod, giving your consent. He thanks you plenty with his words and with his cock as he pulls your panties to the side, sliding his cock inside your cunt, stretching you open. He's so lazy with it, groans and gasps tickling the back of your neck as he humps into you, his head still foggy with sleep. A few times he's actually fallen asleep mid-thrust, waking up properly to his softened cock, stuffed deep inside your walls.

G- Goofy (are they more serious, or humerous during sex?)

Higuruma is not afraid to crack a joke. We already see a teaser of his horrible humor with Yuji in the manga, and I think that can very well translate in the bedroom with you if the time calls for it. I think for the most part, he's serious, but if he accidentally tickles you while he caresses and kisses your body, or his cock slips out while he's trying to put it in, you two will share a laugh, maybe followed by a horrible joke from the lawyer, which only makes you laugh harder, pulling him closer to you affectionately.

H- Hair (Are they well groomed? Does the carpet match the drapes?)

I can see both being true, he keeps himself clean, or he lets himself grow out a bit. I think when he gets busy with work, his hair down there gets a little long, but he'll gladly clean it up for you if you say something about it. I believe he keeps it relatively trimmed though, and he makes sure to keep his happy trail visible for you, ever since you voiced your liking to the trail of dark hair.

I- Intamacy (how are they in the moment? The romantic aspect)

Higuruma can get a bit nasty sometimes, especially when he's eating you out or fingering you, but he makes sure to praise you and express his love for you throughout it with his shameless words and actions. Most of the time sex with him is needy and carnal, but filled with love and admission of it. During more serious times, say if either of you needed comfort or if you two were celebrating something special, the moment might slow down and be more romantic and slow, and have more soft moments, giggles, slow kisses, etc.

J- Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He's horny all the time, like all the time, but before you he suppressed it a lot, being so busy with work and all. I can see him thinking about sex and getting off a lot, but the actual act of masturbation being a bit less frequent, maybe a couple of times a month. Since he met you though, he's had no reason to suppress his sex drive and now gets off with you multiple times during the week if possible.

A lot of the time when he gets off too (before dating you) he would be too worked up to put on porn, more focused on getting his hard cock out of his uncomfortable work pants and getting his hand around his cock than finding the right video to get off on. His imagination is great for a virgin/ someone with little experience, and usually, his fantasies with a faceless person will have him cumming in a few minutes.

I think when he met you, while you two were in the early stages of your relationship, or maybe even just when getting to know you, he would pump his cock to the thought of you quite frequently. Now that he had a face to go with his fantasies, he could cum in under a minute, pumping his cock over a piece of tissue in the bathroom or in the shower, needing to get his cum out of his heavy balls to the thought of you.

K- Kinks (one or more of their kinks)

Spit, 100% spit. Higuruma loves spitting on your pussy, pulling back after he's been eating you out for a while to spit your own weness back on your pussy before he dives back in and licks it all up. I also can see him spitting on his own cock before he slides it inside you, despite how wet you already are. Something about it is so hot to him, and you certainly aren't complaining when he does it.

When he first watched you stick out your tongue before he came on his cock, a brief image of him spitting in your mouth flashed through his mind, so he made sure to bring it up the next time you fucked. Once he got your consent, as he was balls deep inside you, tip abusing your g-spot, forcing your mouth open, he gripped your chin and told you to open your mouth, showing you further by opening his own and saying, "ahhhhh."

He smirked before closing his mouth and wadding up his spit. His cock twitched inside you at the mere thought of what he was about to do. Pursing his lips together he spat right into your mouth, his face heating up at the filthy action he had just done. "Good fucking girl." He praised you when you eagerly swallowed it up, a proud smile gracing your features after you swallowed everything and stuck your tongue back out to show him.

L- Location (favorite places to do the do)

I can't see him liking any other place but the bedroom/ your house. Anywhere with four walls where he was secluded from other people hearing or seeing you he we comfortable with. That doesn't mean he doesn't like a little teasing here and there in public though.

Your foot slides up his leg, slowly pulling the ankle of his slacks up before it drops and you continue in your pursuit. He always stopped you just before your foot reached his cock, swiftly paying whatever bill he owed before driving you home hurridly and pounding you into the sheets.

M- Motivation (what turns them on/ gets them going)

It doesn't take much to turn Higuruma on. It could be something as little as you interlacing your pink finger with his, to you straight up whispering in his ear you wanted to have sex, and everything in between. He loves it when you initiate things though, especially when you tease him as he's working, or send him a dirty text or picture, begging him to come home because 'you need him.' Higuruma is a simple man at heart though. A good ole fashion sexy lingerie under a robe will have him hard in under a millisecond, his cock inside you the next.

N- No (something they wouldn't do)

Anything too extreme or taboo... use your imagination with that as you will. Besides a few things I don't want to go into specifics about, I can't see him being opposed too much. His main priority is making you feel good, so I think he'd be willing to try a lot of different things.

O- Oral (preference on giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I already briefly talked about this, but Higuruma is a munch till he dies. There's nothing he loves more than watching you squirm on his tongue and fingers. When you sit on his face and suffocate him as you bump your clit on his big nose, his eyes roll back in his head and he busts straight away in his pants. He gets so aroused from bringing you pleasure it makes him go crazy a little.

Once again, what he lacks in skill he makes up for in enthusiasm, sucking your clit, shaking his head back and forth, running his tongue along every single inch of your folds- anything to make you cum all over his face. Higuruma loved getting his cock sucked though. He insists quite often that ''It's not necessary'' or "You can do it next time" Simply because he puts other things above getting oral, but when you force him to sit down or corner him while he's working and leave him no choice but to get his cock sucked, he fucking loves it.

His toes curl and his eyes roll back in his head each time his fat tip bobs against the back of your throat. He sometimes finds it hard to relax as he's worried about your comfort, but he gets over it when you look into his eyes and nod at him, hiding your gags and chokes as you try to reassure him you like this, you want this, to let you make him feel good. And each time he surrenders, spilling his seed deep down your throat or all over your face, and he always makes sure to reward you by eating you out till you squirt.

P- Pace (are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

Most of the time it's fast, rough, and loving with Higuruma. He's so sensitive and wants to be inside you so bad. He can never get enough of how warm and wet you feel around him, your pussy is just so inviting, he gets carried away often. His sweet aftercare makes up for it but in the moment he always turns into a completely different person, fucking you carnally.

The sound of your skin slapping against his and the squelching from between your legs only spurs him on, making him want to go harder, faster, to make you cum more, cry his name louder. He's so greedy, but when your pussy pulses around his cock and your body is wracked with pleasure, the same pleasure plastered all over your face, he can't find it in himself to slow down.

Q- Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

I think quickies happen fairly often considering his job (set in a modern au) but he's not always a fan of them. As I've mentioned, Higuruma is greedy, he rarely gets satiated after just one round, let alone one short round. Sure, he could make you both cum in under a few minutes, but he might almost regret it more than just toughing it out and fucking you how he really wants to later.

Once he's finished fucking you and filling you with his seed, he doesn't want to leave you, he wants to cum inside you again and again, then take care of you afterward. So it always sits wrong with him that he has to leave, and it always leaves his cock and balls throbbing harder than they were throbbing before he fucked you.

R- Risk (are they game to experience? do they take risks? etc.)

Okay, so you know how I said Higuruma only likes fucking at home? Well, balcony/ window sex is included in that. He lives in a penthouse high above everyone else, with no taller buildings surrounding him, making it perfect for when he's feeling a little risky and wants to rile you up a little.

He would fuck you against his freezing floor-to-ceiling window wall, a hand gripped around your neck, the other rubbing circles on your clit as he fucked into you slowly, making you feel every inch of him. "You think anyone can see you up here? Huh? Can see how you're getting fucked dumb on my cock? I bet they're so jealous they're not the one fucking you, god... they should be fucking jealous. Pussy is mine, watching is the closest they'll get to you, isn't that right?"

He knows no one can actually see you, but his words still rile you up regardless. He gets so possessive when he initiates something like this, only causing him to fuck you harder, better, making sure to ruin you for anyone else.

S- Stamina (how many rounds can they go, how long do they last?)

Higuruma's stamina is unmatched, even when he's tired he still has the need and will to fuck you till he can't move a single muscle. The first few rounds are spent working you open on his mouth/ tongue, and when he finally gets to the main course, he's full of energy and lots of cum to give you.

Most times you have to tap out and cut him off, and when I say most times, I mean every time. Higuruma gets drunk on seeing you orgasm, so unless you tell him "enough, no more" He'll keep going till one of you passes out, and if it's you who passes out? There's no guarantee he'll stop (with your prior consent ofc.)

If he's not actively trying not to cum, he usually only lasts a few minutes, under a minute, but he can stave off his orgasm to make you cum first most times. That's also why he makes you cum plenty of times before he fucks you though, because he can't always guarantee he'll last all that long when he gets inside you. That's where his stamina comes in handy though, once he bounces back he can cum over and over again. I think after his first orgasm he lasts a little longer, maybe going from 2 or 3 minutes to double digits, getting higher and higher the more he cums.

T- Toys (do they own any toys? do they use them?)

Higuruma has owned a pocket pussy before but likely doesn't have it now that you're together, seeing as he has no use for it. I think he was curious as to what it felt like to cum inside someone, so he bought the toy, but nothing could've prepared him for what it really felt like. I think he owns a few things like handcuffs, a blindfold, a shibari, a basic vibrator, candles, and the essentials in case you two are feeling up to something a little different.

He was actually the one to introduce the idea of a vibrator, a courtesy of one of his perverted fantasies. He doesn't use it often, but it's fun to fuck you while he holds the pretty blue vibrator against your clit, the vibrations often being able to be felt from inside you, bringing him more pleasure as well. You've used it on him once, but his cock is pretty sensitive so it was a lot for him, he prefers to use it on you.

U- Unfair (how much do they like to tease)

I'm on the pussy inspector Higuruma agenda, so I think he can be a bit of a tease. I don't think he's super into orgasm denial, seeing as how much pleasure it brings him, but I think before he's had a taste of you, while he's still in his rational mind, he likes to spread you open and sniff you, tap your clit and watch it twitch and your little hole clenches around nothing.

He often frotts his cock against the outside of your cunt, making his tip kiss your clit over and over before he fucks you, sometimes making you cum just like that. Higuruma also loves fucking you with just his tip, pushing it in before pulling it fully out, biting his lip as you whine and beg for more, it drives him crazy, but your begs always get to him, breaking his resolve sooner than he'd like.

V- Volume (how loud are they? what sounds do they make?)

Loud. So loud. He groans and whines against your pussy while he eats you out, curses and groans against your lips and the crook of your neck while he fucks you, he's so shameless. I think Higuruma is so good at dirty talking too, and he didnt even do it for your pleasure at first, it was just truly what he was thinking and he needed to say it out loud. Once he learned how much you loved it, it only made him that much more excited each time he spoke, knowing how much of an effect it had on you.

examples:

"You're so wet" ,, "Does that feel good? Yeah? You like my tongue that much?" ,, "Let me cum inside you, please, please let me cum inside." ,, "Right there? This ''ur good spot?" ,, "Take it, baby, fuckkk take what you need."

X- X-ray (let's see what's goin' on under those clothes)

Fairly trimmed, slightly tan shaft with a slightly lighter tip that gets flushed red the hornier he gets. 6.7 inches, girthy as fuck, fills you so nicely each time he fucks you, he leaks soooo much precum, it looks like he already came before you even took his boxers off (sometimes he does heh.) Uncircumcised, massive, firm balls that are extremely sensitive, he loves when you suck on them while giving him a blowjob, arguably more than he likes when you suck his cock.

Y- Yearning (how high is there sex drive)

I've already answered this heh (see letter J for more)

Z- Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep after)

Higuruma can and will not rest until he knows you're alright and relaxed. If you're cuddle fucking, he'll fall asleep instantly after cumming inside you, as do you, as for normal fucking otherwise, he's pretty good at staying awake long enough to change the sheets and wait for you as you shower (if he doesn't help you.) He might get a little sleepy but Higuruma is a bit clingy, he doesn't like to fall asleep without you by his side so that keeps him away till you're by his side and snuggled up with him.

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #hiromi smut #hiromi jjk #hiromi x reader #higuruma hiromi #higuruma x you #jjk higuruma #higuruma smut #higuruma x reader #jujutsu kaisen higuruma #higuruma headcanons #jjk x reader smut #jjk x you #jjk #hiromi higuruma

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 3 months

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David and Michael talk about the S2 Finale 🥺

David and Michael interview with Kim Roots from TVLine, about the S2 finale. July 2023 [S2 Promo: C: I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team, a grou p. And we spend our existence pretending that we aren't.]

KR: What happens in the finale between Crowley and Aziraphale is something that some fans have been yearning for a very long time. Was there a pressure? Did you have any conversations about what this might mean to the fandom? Talk to me a little bit about like when you found out this was going to happen and kind of your initial reactions.

Michael: Well, you know, the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley, obviously, is something that the audience seemed to really warm to, and obviously was part of why the idea of doing Season 2, you know, seemed like it could be something that could work. Following how that relationship develops has been something that the audiences have really got into. So we've taken that very seriously, and Neil takes it incredibly seriously. So tracking that relationship and that journey between them, because obviously on the surface, they seem like they're complete opposites, and yet clearly, they're kind of compelled towards each other in all kinds of ways. And now that they've been being cut off from their respective head offices, they only have each other, so that pulls them together a lot more, doesn't it? And the stakes are always high around them, and they sort of end up going on a journey together, but it takes them to different places and where we leave things at the end..

David: Well, that's the thing. Nothing is resolved. So whatever happens and whatever you may have seen at the end of Episode 6, it's also important to note that that doesn't finish the story. In fact, that just sor of ruptures things.

Michael: It's the start of another story.

[S2 Promo: A: I forgive. C: Don't bother.]

David:I think you have to be careful if there is something delicate that has generated a lot of excitement about where will that end up. As soon as you end up there, as soon as you finish that story, it's all over, isn't it?

Michael: You don't really want to find out who killed Laura Palmer. [Twin Peaks series plot]

David: Yeah, exactly. Exactly.

KR Like you said, David, there is no resolution, which made me very happy because this feels primed for a third go-around at some point. Have you had any conversations about that with Neil about possibly keeping the story going?

David: Well, if you've seen where Series 2 ends, there's certainly the teasing of further tales to come, isn't there? Whether we will ever find out what those tales are is in the lap of... well, certainly not on our lap.

Michael: No, it's on the laps of the audience.

David: Laps of the audience, yes.

Michael: We are sitting firmly...

David: In the tops of the audience as it streaming.

Michael: Yeah, it's not in my lap. I know that. When we first started Series 1, we always knew that the story went a lot further because Neil and Terry had talked about it. They just hadn't written it down, but we knew there were ideas, and we have not yet reached the end of those ideas.

David: No.

Michael: You know, if we get a chance to tell more of this story, it does already exist.

David: Yes.

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spacingstars · 1 month

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Sometimes, I find myself breaking down Kix’s character, turning over his traits, his patterns and behaviors… and more and more I find the personality construed by fandom for Kix to be so wildly jarring from what we do have of Kix.

Kix has, roughly, 17 minutes of screen time across the entirety of TCW, which, when compared to the likes of Fives and Rex, who clock much more screen time than most other clones, this doesn’t seem like a lot—but when you factor in most clones' screen time, we get a lot of Kix, and there’s a lot you can learn about him if you pay attention to the moments he does have on screen.

And to illustrate my point, and because I genuinely love Kix, I’m taking it upon myself to examine what we do have of Kix—both for my own purposes, creatively, and because I also happen to enjoy being neurotically intense about my favorite characters.

From “The Deserter” (S02:10) which is also Kix’s debut episode:

1. Kix speaks with a softer and gentler affliction in his voice compared to other clones (as seen with Jesse, who debuts alongside Kix and contrasts him in being more assertive.) I generally extrapolate this to be reflective of a softness that underscores Kix’s mannerisms. 2. When confronted by Suu, Kix doesn’t react with aggression of defensiveness (even if he’s also escorting an injured Rex and has a rifle pointed at him,) instead he opts to gently, and slowly, explain the situation, (in fact, Suu cuts him off and it is Jesse who has to explain, Jesse, who speaks quickly and in a more assertive manner than Kix did.) Kix’s tone is also likely influenced by caution. 3. The most notable scene in this episode that Kix appears in is when he’s tending to an injured Rex—I say notable because I think it informs much of how Kix treats his patients, even when they’re being uncooperative. Because in this scene, Kix is nothing but gentle an caring towards Rex, even when Rex tries to order Kix into letting him back into the fight despite the nerve damage he’s taken from the shot to his chest. When he pulls rank on Rex it is done so firmly, but kindly, and his face is one of sheepishness. If this scene shows anything, it’s that Kix is patient.

From Kix’s debut episode, what can be described about his character is that he’s much more reserved and gentle in comparison to the much more assertive personality of Jesse—from his mannerisms to the tone of his voice. He will be firm, but he is not unkind. He also shows patience towards his patient, even when said patient is, initially, being uncooperative.

From Umbara (S04:07 - S04:10) which is when Kix gets the most screen time:

1. The first moment of note Kix appears in is when he raises concerns to Rex about the pace Krell has had them marching at, that this pace is taking its toll on the men and they need to rest. Kix raises these concerns respectfully, secondly, Kix is doing his duty as a medic, which, is fundamental to his character, finally, Kix cares about those around him and he does what he can to ensure the welfare of these men. (And also, I think it’s quite telling that Kix doesn’t press the issue after Krell scolds them for it, as noted before, Kix does not have an assertive personality.) 2. When Kix is taking care of an injured clone he’s dragged into cover Kix retains his professionalism and keeps himself together even under stress. Kix comforts his patient instead, and I think it speaks of that gentleness I keep mentioning that Kix says, “You’re gonna be okay, buddy, this’ll ease the pain.” Kix is comforting, and he holds himself together under stress because he has his brothers to take care of. 3. I think it’s also notable that when Torrent is starting to express their distrust in Krell, though you can tell Kix is beginning to get frustrated with the treatment of the men (expressing that with Krell’s plan, casualties will be high,) his comments are not nearly has harsh as those of Tup or Jesse. Once again, Kix is shown to be more reserved, and I see it as him maintaining his professionalism in raising these concerns, even as he is beginning to grow frustrated with this poor treatment. 4. The note of Kix beginning to grow frustrated with the treatment of his brothers will be expanded upon throughout the Umbara arc; especially in light of Kix taking his frustration and horror out on the wildlife of Umbara for feeding on the corpses of his brothers. If I am to extrapolate, those dead clones serve as a reminder to Kix; a remainder that he, more and more, has been unable to properly care for all his injured brothers. These clones are a reminder to Kix of the brothers he could not save. This is the first crack within Kix, due to the stress of Umbara, and I have to emphasis, this is not Kix’s normal pattern of behavior. 5. Continuing the thread of Kix beginning to crack under the pressures of Umbara, there is a moment in Umbara where Kix is tending to an injured clone—one that’s in his arms, and this clone gets shot to death in Kix’s arms. This is directly Kix being unable to save a clone’s life despite being right there, because Umbara is that overwhelming—to such a degree that he’s forced to leave behind the injured in this moment, even if he can save them. And this is another crack in Kix’s composure, because he snaps at Rex, he drops his professionalism and his respect, and even resorts to barbed comments against Rex for ordering him from tending to the injured because Torrent needs Kix alive. This is not Kix’s normal behavior, this is Kix, stressed and crumbling under the weight of Umbara. 6. The last notable scene Kix appears in, and this is the moment where Kix finally breaks under Umbara’s pressure—it’s the moment where he starts haphazardly firing his blaster at the enemy. This is intended to be shocking—because this is not how Kix nominally acts, he’s in immense distress, and it takes Tup pulling him into cover to get him to calm down. Kix holds his composure for so long, and when he does break, he breaks hard. 7. To cap off the Umbara thoughts, though Kix does have more scenes, he is relegated to a background character for the most part—but, I can only imagine what was going through Kix’s head when he had, under the orders of Krell, fired upon other clones, it is completely counter to who he is, both as a person and as a medic, and I imagine it cuts deep—as it did for all clones involved in that moment, but for Kix… some of that hurt I imagine would be coming from how he’s meant to save his brothers lives, he’s the medic… and yet, in that moment, all he did was take theirs.

Umbara shows that Kix—who has been shown to be a respectful, kind, and helpful clone who just earnestly wants to do his duty in providing his brothers with the care he needs—is broken by an inability to help.

From the Chip arc (S06:01 - S06:04):

1. Not much to be said about some of Kix’s first appearances in this arc, as Kix is doing what he does as a medic (and expressing concern for Tup.) But the scene where Tup is in the infirmary, and Kix is confused about what’s wrong with Tup, I do think that Kix being willing to say that he can’t figure out what’s wrong, and that if they want answers, he’ll need to be sent back to Kamino, is indicative of Kix is aware of the limitations in his knowledge and is willing to humble himself. 2. This is more light-hearted scene (at first, anyway,) and is mostly conjecture on my part but I find it too amusing to leave out. That is the scene in which Kix is checking himself out in the mirror at 79’s. I do not think this is indicative of Kix being conceited about his looks—rather, I think it’s indicative of something else entirely in light of how he also talks in this scene. When he realizes someone else walks in, he talks with a deeper tone that I can only describe as Kix trying to present himself as being cool and mysterious. All the while he’s nonchalantly brushing his shoulders off. It’s so funny to me, especially when he realizes it’s Fives who just walked in, and immediately he tone switches to his typical inflection—and his mannerisms return to the typical ones we’ve seen of him. (Yes, I also think Kix had the haircut he does because he tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, I imagine he grew embarrassed by this insistence given he grows it out later on—Kix is a dork, I said what I said.) 3. And yes, Kix immediately jumping to concern, before offering his help to Fives—even if his duty would insist that he turn Fives in because of the attempted assassination—I think, this is because Kix fixates on Fives’ distress, and he focuses on how to alleviate that stress, so even as it’s clear he’s confused by what Fives has gotten himself into, Kix still offers his help, and gives it freely in getting Fives in direct contact with Anakin and Rex at his behest. It’s a strong moment for his character, and his face when he asks what he can do to help… it’s so earnest. He’s loyal to his brothers.

And finally, there is the Echo arc of season 7, (S07:01 - S07:04):

1. When their gunship gets shot down, Kix is the first to notice that Cody was injured in the wreck and is trapped; I put this down to Kix being attentive and keeping track of the head count of the party he’s with, something done because he is the team medic and he is responsible for the well being of those around him first and foremost. 2. Then there is the scene at the campfire, which, firstly shows the bond Jesse and Kix have given the ease of banter between them and the comfort between them in their interactions. Secondly, I find it interesting how when Wrecker strangles Jesse, while Rex resorts to more direct action (trying to pull Wrecker by his collar,) Kix kind of just hovers, it’s a pretty… non-violent action when Rex and Jesse both jump to the defensive with the batch (Rex, even more directly, later on, when he actually punches Crosshair.) Similarly, even when Crosshair shoves Kix away, Kix shoves back before getting stuck in a headlock, and even after getting out of the headlock, at most he puts his hands on Crosshair to keep shoving him away. Generally, Kix is a lot less confrontational compared to either Jesse and Rex are in regards to the batch—which, circles around to my point of Kix not being as assertive, neither will he be overly aggressive towards allies. (This may be extrapolated as Kix refusing to take more direction action against another clone, given Umbara. But, that’s just extrapolation; a theory, a musing on motives.) 3. (Also yes I am aware that Kix makes jabs about the batch and I mostly construe this to be that Kix can be judgmental about others when he’s skeptical of them, I have my reasons as to why I’m not putting a lot of weight on this but it’s tied to a critique of the arc’s writing, which is not what this is about.)

In summation, Kix is shown, repeatedly, to be someone whose kind and helpful—what matters most to him is the care and well being of his brothers. He’s earnest in that care, and he’s got a softness that underscores a lot of his mannerisms and speech. He does his best to hold himself together for the sake of his brothers. He gets frustrated and breaks down in the face of mounting casualties and an inability to help his brothers. He’s respectful and professional in how he conducts himself as a medic, and even if he pulls rank, he’s firm but kind about it—he expresses patience in how he handles those under his care. Additionally, and in my own conjecture of his character, Kix tries to present himself as cooler than he actually is, suggesting a level of dorky insecurity to him. He’s also shown to lash out and make barbed comments when he’s incredibly stressed, and Kix carries judgment towards others when he’s skeptical of them.

What Kix is not is a hard ass medic whose sick of everyone’s shit, who berates and scolds his patients relentlessly—complaining about how they make his job harder. He is not quick to anger nor does he easily take his frustrations out on those around him—especially those under his care. He does not constantly throw his rank around to get those under his care to do what he wants.

It is a far cry from Kix’s character, and I think it’s a damn shame Kix’s actual character gets ignored in favor in fanon, because honestly, Kix as he is in canon is incredibly interesting—carrying a host of traits that can be explored and examined in their own right.

(Also, in quick references, I’ve narrowed down two videos that compiled Kix’s screen time across TCW, this one which clocks at ~14 minutes, and the second one with clocks in at ~17 minutes.)

#help I'm star wars posting #Clone Medic Kix #Star Wars #Fandom Stuff #Long Post #Space's Fandom Stuff #do I need a meta tag now #Space's Chatter #<- edit: I have a meta tag now lol #technically?#Fandom Salt #Fandom Nonsense

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standfucker · 11 days

Text

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.

#eustass kid x reader #killer x reader #heat x reader #wire x reader #one piece imagines #one piece smut #x reader #zen writes

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thekeeperof-thefandoms · 14 days

Text

I asked a few of my favorite hazbin writers this and only one answered and it was ok but I felt like it could have been expanded on so here's my take

Vox, Val, Alastor, and Lucifer react to your love language being baking/cooking

Vox

(Starting with him because he's the one thaf inspired this).

Vox came from the 50s and even though I firmly believe he is past all the ingrained gender roles and homophobia I think he still has some internalized misogyny. He wants to be viewed as the man in the relationship, the breadwinner, the provider. He can cook for himself but it's pretty basic food (except steak. Like every other man since the invention of the grill how to bbq has been hardwired into his brain. If his partner also grills ya'll fight over whose turn to cook out it is)

(Unrelated but as a lesbian who loves to grill, and is the designated grill bro, butch lesbians or cookout lesbians are some of Vox's favorite type of gays to chill with)

I firmly believe that's why even though he's a sub, it's so hard and would take time and trust to get him to let you top and enjoy it. He's so worried people will find out and judge him, that you'll judge him. His ego can be very fragile.

Especially if we go with the Vox used to be a cult leader theory. His power, image, and success are linked to his ability to appear in control. To appear to have all the answers and take responsibility. It's going to take a lot of time and patience to unravel all that and help him seperate his personal and professional image.

That being said, a partner who uses acts of service as a love language is perfect for him. He's a busy man, so he tends to be a gift giver type. The gifts are always well thought out and expensive. He wants it to be something you need, want, can get a lot of enjoyment from, and be worth the money spent, so he puts time and effort into them. Unless he's just showing off by giving you his card and telling you to go nuts.

So you taking time to make his coffee for him the way he likes, ordering lunch from his favorite places and having it sent to his office so he remembers to eat, or just texting him reminders to drink water or eat/take breaks throughout the day makes him giddy.

If you're his assistant or something, (and I believe Vox absolutely would have his partner working for him/with him), then it's even better when you take on extra work to try and help him. Organizing his schedule, sorting emails/mail, and proofreading things. Any small act you do for him, because you want to and care about him, makes his heart rate pick up.

It'll really make him overheat, glitching slightly, literal heart eyes, if he comes home after a shitty day and you're cooking for him.

His internal monologue is absolutely raving about what a good housewife you are for him, a hard working husband.

Bonus points if you cleaned too! Either way, he adores you even more now, letting you fret and coo at him, removing his jacket and tie, pouring him a drink and telling him dinner will be ready soon and you made his favorite. He's so tempted to bend you over the counter right now, but that would ruin dinner. After you guys eat though, he's having you for dessert. Man's gonna make sure you know how much he appreciates this by turning your knees to jello, good luck walking tomorrow, doll.

If you bake treats and bring them to VoxTek he's gonna brag so much. Literally the embodiment of John Mulaney's, "That's my wife!" If you bring them just for him, he's defending his treats like they're the last ones in Hell. He has literally hit Val with a fly swatter for even asking if he could have one.

(Unrelated but like, chubby vox maybe? You're cooking is too good)

Valentino

Val wishes he could cook better. He's some kind of latino, so I feel like the fact he can't cook very well is a sore spot culturally. He can make the salsa and chips and like, help with stuff, he knows how to wrap tortillas and tomales (I picture him as like Mexican or Puerto Rican but that's just cuz the town I grew up had a large Puerto Rican group).

It doesn't help that his eyesight is even more shit in Hell. He can't see what he's doing hald the time. It ruins his art hobby too. He's overall just more easily frustrated with his bad eyesight.

I don't imagine you guys dating per se. Maybe you're his sugar baby, maybe you're someone he hired to help him do stuff like clean and organize and you just sorta start doing other things to help him. (Again I'm not saying it excuses jackshit, but as someone who worked with bipolar people and people with mood disorder I kinda see the fan theory in him, either way I think all the Vees could be sort of trained to be better people, but especially Val. We already saw Vox do it.)

After all, he's usually in a much better mood if you do and that means less outbursts. The first few times you cook him something he teases you about being his housewife, tries to make it sexual. It's not really something he clocks as being an act of love because I don't think you'd realize it yourself at first. I think the more you got to see him when he wasn't stressed, lashing out, being abusive, you'd start catching feelings. ("I can fix him", delulu asses)

He loves to be in the kitchen when you cook once it starts becoming a regular thing. He can't see clearly what you're doing but the way you move around the kitchen and get what you need, even if you're an ADHD mess and do steps out of order or at random, he can tell you know what you're doing. He likes to smell the food too while it's cooking.

He will ask you to try and make some spicier/more traditional foods he grew up with, but he doesn’t remember all of the ingredients, and it just gets him more frustrated he can't tell you. If you look them up and surprise him with it it'll probably be the most genuine, human response you get from him.

He's shocked, silent, standing frozen in the penthouse as familiar smells waft around him. You present him a plate nervously, practically shaking hoping it's good enough. The first bite nearly puts him in tears. No one's done anything this nice for him? Why would you? Lowkey thinks you want something from him. It's gonna make him paranoid for a while so don't expect a verbal compliment but he eats it all.

Eventually though, one day when you're in the kitchen cooking, humming softly and swaying your hips, one set of his arms will wrap around your waist, the other reaching around you help with the salsa, or wrap a tamale, and he'll prop his chin on your head and mumble out thanks. Some praise, maybe. Would definitely tell you stories about eating these foods growing up.

It's the first step towards having an actual relationship with him.

Alastor

This man almost always insists on cooking. He isn't much of a sweet tooth either. You tell him one night you want to try cooking for him. Tell him you understand it's an activity he enjoys and relaxes too, (especially if you know it's something that reminds him of his mother), but you want to do something for him and this is one way you show you care.

It's gonna remind him of his Mama so much that if you didn't know why he loved cooking so much before you do now. He compromises. You pick the meal and gather the ingredients and do most of the cooking and he helps prep and does dishes.

He playfully critiques you the entire time about adding some spice too it or a little southern flair. Just smack him with the wooden spoon, gently. It's gonna make him laugh because his Mama used to do that when he wouldn't keep out of the sweets, or tried to add stuff to her cooking.

Once you start it becomes habit to help each other in the kitchen every night, trading off who cooks and who preps and does dishes.

If you do find baked goods he likes that aren't too sweet and send them to him as snacks, especially to Overlord meetings, he's so fucking obnoxious about his sweet little doe (doesn't matter if you are one or not) and how they spoil him. Especially rubs it in Vox's face (not him whining to his partner so they send him with treats too so he can also brag).

Only shares with Charlie, Rosie, Niffty, and sometimes Zestiel. If he's feeling generous, Husk can have a bite.

Low-key also has a thing for his partner behaving domestically even if he isn't exactly invested in traditional marriage.

Favorite activity though is dancing with you in the kitchen to jazz while dinner cooks, holding you close, in his room usually, so he can hear the sounds of the bayou. If he closes his eyes he can pretend this is how his life went and that his Mama is in the corner or sitting in her chair, watching him, happy to see him find someone.

He will literally kiss Vox willingly before admitting that last part though.

Lucifer

It's not that he can't cook, it's just....it's easier to just snap his fingers and make food appear. He's been in a depressed slump for decades man, he's lived off of the 'want food, no cook, only eat' mindset.

When you come into his life it's a complete overhaul. Despite what issues you have yourself you can recognize someone in worse state than you and immediately categorize and prioritize. First thing first, get this man's duck collection/obsession organized, thinned out, and under control.

Second, help him work through his issues with Lillith and Charlie. Encourage therapy, be a mediator between him and Charlie (and trust me she appreciates it. She knows her dad struggles, didn't know how bad, and still feels awkward). Help him socialize more, rebuild his connection with the other sins.

Get this man a work schedule!

Then it's on to personal habits. You help him get out of bed, you're both probably a little helpless in the sleeping on time category though. Help him get a routine again to keep out of his funk. Then you start cooking for him. It just happens naturally. You enjoy cooking, you enjoy showing people you love how much you care by providing good meals.

At first he's gonna resist and tell you he can handle that, you already do so much for him. He can cook or better yet he can just make it appear and you laugh and tell him it tastes better when it's made with love. He brushes it off as a joke too, you're both just being silly and obviously you said that to get him to quit fussing. Except, unholy hell does it actually taste so much better.

Lucifer hadn’t realized how bland and unsatisfying just materializing the food was. Maybe that's because he was so depressed and uninterested in what he ate, maybe not. Either way, your cooking is so much fucking better. He actually looks forward to eating now. If he gets caught up in work or has a bad day, you make sure to always bring him something, leaving it as an offering of sorts. It almost always works and entices him to eat at least once.

You cook, he does dishes, and he will not budge on that rule. He wants to be a fair man. He occasionally boots you out to do dessert, though. Apple pie is his bitch and you've never tasted one as good as his. He also makes good pancakes and some absolutely orgasmic angel's food cake.

Ironicall, devil's food cake is one of your go to recipes. Sometimes you both make a cake and take it to events just to watch people get confused as fuck when it's revealed the literal Devil did not make the devil's food cake.

Everyime you're in the kitchen together it's a disaster, you're both to silly and chaotic. You were making noodles one time and he threw flour at you so you smacked him with the noodle you were holding, leaving a line of flour and a speck of dough against his cheek. From there it escalates. It happens every time. Making cakes together, you're smashing frosting on each other. Making cookies, you're fighting each other to stop eating cookie dough.

Once, after you get fed up with him stealing her spatula to lick the chocolate off of, hovering above you with his wings, you pout and bat your eyes, asking him sweetly to please give it back. He swoops down in front of you, booping your nose to smear chocolate on it and leaning in to kiss you, letting you have a taste of the chocolate batter you were mixing for brownies. While his tongue is in your mouth, drunk off the taste of you and chocolate you smash an egg over his head and let out a triumphant cheer, snatching back your spatula.

He's so stunned his wings disappear and he drops the last few inches to the ground while you cackle. His heart is pounding, his ears are ringing, and his chest feels like it's gonna explode. His eyes are literal sparkles. He hasn't felt this much joy, wonder, and love since Charlie was born. It feels like witnessing creation all over again, of the breathlessness he felt when he first saw Lillith.

You're laughter stops when you realize he's just staring at you awestruck and you smile, asking if he's ok.

"For once...yeah..Yes. I'm ok." He responds, genuinely. You kiss his cheek and resume baking. He watches you from the counter now, dreamily, thinking about how he's gonna marry you someday.

#hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #vox x reader #valentino x reader #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader

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