“Are you sure you don't want a cup of regular coffee? It’s way better,” Wire drawled, standing in your way as you tried to move around him. He was bugging you about drinking decaf, just like he had been for weeks. Normally you would have enjoyed the attention of the tall, handsome Commander. But Wire insisted on hanging out in the kitchen teasing you while you were working and making breakfast for the crew. It was flattering, but annoying, as you unsuccessfully tried to rid yourself of the Commander.
You’d joined the Kid pirates a few months prior and had quickly figured out one fatal flaw in their operations. Namely, none of the fuckheads in charge liked to get up before noon. They were generally a good crew, and you felt that Kid was an acceptable Captain, but it was near impossible to get anyone out of bed in the morning.
You were a natural early morning riser, so you’d made a deal with Killer. He cooked lunch and dinner and in exchange you made breakfast for the crew and acted as the morning supervisor. The system worked out for everyone – the crew now had a hot meal and someone to bitch to, and you had your afternoons and evenings free. You made all the coffee, cooked an early and late breakfast and fucked off for the rest of the day. It was a great system.
Except Wire had found out that you only drank decaf coffee and he wouldn’t let it go. Like a dog with a stick, he insisted on talking to you about it every single day. And yes, you enjoyed being teased as much as the next girl, but it was grating to hear the same exact thing every single day particularly while you were cooking his fucking breakfast.
Wire had even started getting up at the very early hour of 10 AM for the privilege of annoying you in the kitchens as you made a second breakfast for the late rising crew. And you certainly didn’t mind flirting with him any other time of day, but Wire lingered in the small kitchen, taking up valuable space and time while you were actually busy.
Wire prided himself on being some kind of coffee connoisseur, always spending a ridiculous amount of money on coffee beans during every restock. He had lectured you endlessly on how to prepare the coffee too, as if you hadn’t been doing it for years. It seemed like your affinity for decaf was a personal insult to him, something that he needed to fix. He prattled on and on about how decaf tasted flat, how the process ruined the beans, how the beans were over-roasted because they were poor quality blah blah blah. You’d tried telling him that regular coffee hurt your stomach and gave you the jitters but he was immune to your logic.
“C’mon, have a sip of mine. You’ll taste how much better this shit is,” he purred at you, pushing his cup towards you. You gave him an incredulous look – you were carrying pans of muffins to the oven.
“How? My hands are full,” you scoffed, kicking him in the thigh with your boot to get him out of the way in the small kitchen. He scooted over but didn’t offer to open the oven.
“I’ll do it for you, Ma. Open up,” he said, his eyes going half lidded. You squinted your eyes at him as you handed him one of the pans instead.
“No,” you said, opening the oven and popping the trays in. “Regular coffee hurts my stomach,” you explained for the millionth time.
“I seen you drink six shots of vodka back to back,” Wire said, taking an exaggerated sip. You tossed him another annoyed look before wiping your hands on your kitchen rag. Wire was standing in the small space between the kitchen island and the counters. You squeezed past, purposefully rubbing against him a little. You were determined to be just as bothersome as he was.
“Alcohol doesn’t have caffeine, duh,” you said, taking a sip of your own. You’d been a decaf drinker for a long time and no one had ever given you as much shit about it as Wire had. You were guessing he thought it was some kind of inside joke, but you were tired of it.
So you had done the only reasonable thing.
You switched all the regular coffee on the ship for decaf.
All week everyone had been drinking exclusively decaf, and no one had noticed a thing. The first day Kid had complained about a headache, but you told him he was dehydrated and to drink water. After that, if anything, you’d gotten more compliments than ever on your brew. Killer was the only one to limit his consumption but even he had a cup a day.
“A little won’t hurt you,” Wire said, watching you take off your apron.
“You’re right, it won’t. Gimme some,” you said with a bright smile, extending your hand for his mug. Wire gave you a smirk as he handed you the cup. He was too good looking for his own good, you thought as you held the warm ceramic in your hands and took a long sip.
“Knew you’d come around. Whaddya think? Better than that trash you drink,” he said smugly. “And you’ve been using those expensive beans I got at the last island, I can tell,” he said, his grin growing wider.
“It’s a special brew, that’s for sure,” you said, handing him back his mug. “It’s good,” you said evenly, gathering pots and pans to put in the sink for the washing crew.
“I knew I’d get you in the end, Ma,” Wire said, coming to stand near you.
“Something like that,” you agreed easily, piling the bowls and utensils you’d used into the sink. One day you’d tell him the secret to your amazing coffee, but for now he could suffer.
“We’re docking later today, lemme take you out to coffee now that you can have the real stuff,” Wire said silkily, leaning on a forearm next to you.
“Hmm. It’s a thought,” you replied airily. Killer appeared in your peripheral vision, the first mate up earlier today than usual. He reached for a mug, inspecting if it was clean before looking at the coffee carafes.
“Is there any coffee today?” he asked, pointing at the carafe.
“Yeah, she hooked us up good. Even tried it herself for once,” Wire said proudly, pouring more from the carafe into his mug. He tried to pour some for Killer but Killer covered his mug with his hand.
“No, I want real coffee today,” he said. Wire raised a brow at Killer.
“This is real coffee. The decaf shit she drinks is over there,” he insisted, pointing at your carafe with an orange lid. You smiled to yourself, not saying a word.
“It’s all been decaf this week. I thought you were a coffee guy, Wire. Can’t you taste the difference?” Killer asked. You laughed loudly as Wire’s face went through several stages of suspicion to surprise to annoyance. Even Killer chuckled as Wire’s face heated. Wire looked at you, but you just smirked and shrugged as you took a sip of your coffee.
“Yeah, I knew-” Wire tried to play off the situation, but you weren’t going to let him off the hook.
“You didn’t,” you objected, making the Commander’s face flush even further. “But we can still meet for coffee on that island if you want. We might learn something,” you said, flipping your kitchen rag off your shoulder to smack him in the face gently with it. You sauntered away, laughing as Wire continued to watch you incredulously.
Summary: A recent encounter with Admiral Kizaru—who has the stronger version of your devil fruit—leaves you shaken. The others don’t realize how deep it goes until you’re even distracted in the bedroom. Rather than ending the session, Shanks and Benn have a different idea to work through your issues.
Ao3 Link
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“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Shanks demands.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Shanks demands.
“I did,” Ben grumbles as they head to the deck. “At least, I tried. You looked me right in the eye, said 'I understand,’ and then went back to sleep.”
“Why did you listen to me?!” Shanks cries, picking up his pace.
The island they were currently docked at had a town famous for producing bamboo liquor. Rice wine was injected into living bamboo stalks, infusing the liquor with the bamboo sap during the aging process. Shanks had been eager to try it out, but the town was located high up on a mountain in the center of the island, only accessible by hike. Wary of the heavy Marine presence in those waters, Shanks chose to stay with the ship, sending a few crewmates out earlier in the week to retrieve some in his stead: Bonk Punch, Monster, and you.
The three of you had returned early this morning. It was only now, a few hours afterward, that Ben elected to tell him that your group had run into Admiral Kizaru.
“S’not my fault you can’t wake up like a normal human being.” Ben grabs Shanks’ wrist, stopping him. “Relax. They’re all fine, even Firefly.”
‘Firefly’ was one of your nicknames. The main ability of your Devil Fruit, the Flash-Flash Fruit, gave you the power to emit light from your body. It was the inferior light-based power compared to Kizaru’s Glint-Glint Fruit—something that he gleefully held over your head from day one.
You and Kizaru had a long history. Your life as a pirate started young, as did your first encounter with the then-Vice Admiral. He had chased you throughout your entire career (half-heartedly, Shanks suspected, or you would never have survived.) And while you were leagues stronger than you were as a kid, strong enough to hold your own among the other senior officers, you still couldn’t beat Kizaru one-on-one. Shanks knew that fact ate you up inside. Your mood always soured when the Admiral was mentioned, or worse, encountered.
“Why do I doubt that?” Shanks mutters. Ben releases his hand and the two resume walking.
“It can’t be helped, Shanks. Their feud started long before Firefly joined us.”
“I just wish it wouldn’t bother ‘em so much.”
“I know,” Ben says. “Best thing is to make them vent. They’re going to want to keep it to themselves, you know how they are. So get them to talk, then be supportive. And don’t make a stink about them coming home empty-handed.”
“They didn’t get the liquor?!” Shanks’ head whips to Ben.
“Obviously not! And you know how they hate letting you down, so don’t bring it up.” Ben gives Shanks one of his pointed ‘I mean it’ looks, and Shanks holds up his hands in a conceding gesture.
The two ascended the stairs to the deck. Most of the senior officers had gathered around you, concerned after hearing about your encounter. You’re sitting in a heavy wooden chair, occasionally wincing as Hongo, crouched in front of you, massages your feet.
You let out a small groan of pain as Hongo kneads a sore spot, one that sounds so much like your bedroom noises that Shanks would’ve teased you if the circumstances were different.
“Sorry,” Hongo says.
“No, it’s fine. It’s a good hurt,” you reply. “This is helping…thanks, Hungo.”
“Stop calling me that.”
Despite your lip curling up, Shanks can feel your tension with his Haki, a prickly and acidic energy which emanates from your being. He tries to seem lighthearted as he approaches, concealing his worry.
“If I had known foot massages were being given out, I’d have gotten up sooner,” Shanks says, smiling at your resulting pout.
“Next time, you can hike for three days in each direction,” you retort. “My feet haven’t hurt this bad in ages.”
“My feet don’t hurt,” Bonk Punch says.
“You’re twice my height, BP!” you snap, “I’m walking double the distance you are. And Monster rode your shoulders the whole time, so I don’t want to hear it from him, either.”
Gab, closest in height to Bonk, starts to snicker, but clams up quickly at your deadly side-eye.
Shanks touches Bonk Punch’s arm, then goes to pat your head, his hand sliding down to cradle the side of your face. He smiles when you lean into his touch. “Welcome home, you three.”
“I’m home,” you whisper automatically, and Shanks feels some relief–at least you were feeling well enough to say it aloud. The reversing of the traditional greeting had become a sort of ritual for you.
Before you met Shanks, you had survived entirely on your own. Foolish crews sailing the Grand Line at night would be drawn to a mysterious light that hovered over the water, one you emitted from your ship. Once they got close, you would use your secondary ability—the ability to steal light from other sources—to snatch the lights from their ship and snuff them out, plunging both ships into the pitch blackness of the open ocean. With the crew blinded and panicking, it was easy work to board their ship, take out the sailors, and raid their supplies. This hunting method earned you the nickname “Angler,” and you embraced it, as proven by the anglerfish tattoo on your shoulder.
Shanks recruited you shortly after you had tried and failed to use that tactic on the Red Hair Pirates. Though you had accepted his offer, in the early days, you were doubtful of your place on his crew and didn’t dare consider his ship home. And even years in, even while being a loyal crewmate, you were guarded and distant, never offering so much as a greeting after being separated. Shanks always made sure to say “welcome home” anyway, always kept a hand extended. Over time—a long time-–his gentle persistence paid off, like a river shaping stones smooth, and you started to respond. I’m home.
You already got along well with the crew, so it was inevitable that the very moment you opened up, you got sucked into the senior officer polycule. Once you had adjusted, you thrived with the newfound support, your formerly aloof disposition gradually becoming something as sunny and bright as your Devil Fruit power. Very few things dragged you down, and even fewer things affected your confidence. Facing Kizaru, unfortunately, was one of those things.
“Captain,” you mumble, eyes still closed.
“Yes, bug?” Shanks replies.
You wrinkle your nose. ‘Bug’ was short for ‘lightning bug,’ a nickname you frequently complain is too cute for you. Your energy softens for a moment before becoming sharp once more, smile fading. “Ben told you the gist, yeah?”
“He did,” Shanks says, “but I’d like to hear it from you.”
You open your eyes. “There’s nothing more to it than what Ben said. We made it to the village, went straight to the bar, and found every seat inside taken by a Marine.”
“Including Kizaru,” Bonk Punch adds helpfully.
Yasopp flicks Bonk Punch on the back of the head, who yelps. Monster chitters irately at Yasopp in turn.
“Yeah,” your jaw tenses, “including Kizaru.”
Hongo finishes his massage, so you shift forward to put your socks and shoes back on. Shanks waits patiently, as always, for you to go on.
“A fight broke out,” you explain. “The rest of the Marines were green, not an issue. Commanders and lower. BP and Monster handled them while I got into it with Kizaru.”
When you don’t say anything else, Shanks gives you a verbal nudge. “And?”
“And what? The same thing happened that always happens: He taunts me over having the weak version of his Devil Fruit, then kicks me at the speed of light. I was barely able to guard in time.” Your face twists into a grimace as you recall his words, your voice changing to mimic Kizaru’s whiny intonation. "Ohhh? I guess your Haki has to be strong to make up for having such a useless devil fruit."
“Ah,” Shanks says, feeling your energy twist and writhe like a wounded snake. “What else did he say?”
You breathe in deep through your nose, nostrils flaring. “There was a lot of collateral damage. A civilian almost got killed, so we mutually agreed to stop fighting. The Marines stayed behind to rebuild, and we left.”
Your blatant avoidance of the question makes it clear to Shanks that there’s more going on, as does the fact that you stand from your chair, intending to leave. You freeze at Shanks calling your name. “Tell me what else he said.”
“...He talked about my ‘Angler’ days,” your voice wavers before it explodes into a shout, “he called my tactics cowardly!” You start to pace around your chair, fists balled up. “I laughed and said, ‘do you think I’m afraid of you?’ And that slimy, scum-sucking bastard smirked at me and said, 'I know you are.' Ugh!"
You grab the chair, raise it over your shoulder, and chuck it with a frustrated snarl, a flash of angry light pulsing under your skin. The crew watches as the chair sails into the far distance, becoming a tiny speck before splashing inaudibly into the water. "I'm not scared of him! I'm not scared of anyone!"
“Y/n…” Lucky Roux says, but you ignored him.
"Didn't I learn how to take advantage of my useless devil fruit?" you shout.
Gab goes to comfort you, but Ben stops him, shaking his head—it’s better for you to get it all out.
“Didn’t I master both Colors of Arms and Observation, which I had to figure out for myself, without a teacher? Didn’t I get by, alone, facing entire crews on my own?” Your voice rises as you resume pacing, fists balled so tightly now that veins pop out on your arms. There’s an empty bottle laying on the deck; you kick it into the distance as you pace. Only a shred of restraint keeps your stomping from cracking the wood of the deck.
“Didn’t I become a legend? A cautionary tale whispered among sailors, the scourge of the night sea?” You unclench your fists, fingers curling like you were mentally strangling someone, then you throw your arms down with an aggravated cry. “Why aren’t I stronger?!”
There it was.
"You're too hard on yourself, Y/n.” Yasopp says. “He's older and more experienced. That’s all it is."
“No, it’s more than that,” Ben says. “You’re as strong as any of the senior officers. The only reason he keeps winning is because he knows how to get under your skin.”
You open your mouth to protest, but Ben holds up a hand. “You were a child when you first met him. That changes things, get me? There’s no way you were unscathed from that experience. If I were to guess, I’d say this: Mentally, you’re in a place where you’re a frightened kid on the run and he’s an adult—one with a monstrous reflection of your powers. That’s why you can’t see past your first clashes with him.” His face softens. “You’re not weak. You’re just at a disadvantage.”
You’re quiet. No one says a word. Your face is carefully still, like you’re trying to hold something in, and at first Shanks thinks you’re trying to quell your rage.
Then, the slightest waver of your lower lip catches his attention, because you never cry. The only time you ever let yourself cry in front of anyone is during aftercare.
Your Haki shudders and twists. Shanks narrows his focus on it, until he can finally detect what feeling bleeds through. Once he picks up on it, it’s suddenly overwhelming: a pungent, malingering sense of shame that permeates your energy. Benn must notice it, too.
How Shanks’ heart aches, seeing you fight to keep your composure. He wants to throw his arms around you, but decides against it at that moment. You’re too close to tipping over into actually crying, and if that happened, he knew you’d just leave for your cabin. It was better that you stayed around the crew right now.
Shanks grabs your cheek suddenly, pinching and pulling.
“Ow! The fuck?” You wince, more out of surprise than pain.
“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he coos.
“I am not cute—stop that,” you swat at his arm as he switches to smushing your cheeks together, garbling your words. “You’re trying to distract me.”
“Yes, but it’s also true that you’re cute.” Shanks lets go of your face and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. His voice softens as he looks down at you fondly. “I missed you, Firefly.”
Some of the tension eases from your shoulders, and you sigh. “Me too.”
He leans down so he’s speaking right above your ear. “You want a kiss?”
“You can’t kiss this better, Shanks,” you say, then pause, avoiding his eye as your voice softens, “but I want one anyway.”
Shanks chuckles and cups your cheek, pressing his lips to yours. “Bet I could,” he says, and his next kiss is on your jaw. Then on your neck. “I bet I could make it real better.”
“Don’t be a tease.”
“Doesn’t have to be teasing. If you want to vent your frustrations…”
“Maybe later.” You gently push his face away. “I’m not in the mood.”
He turns his head to kiss your palm. “Alright. But stay up here with us for a while, at least.”
“I will—if you promise to have one of the big guys carry me next time.”
“Deal.” You shake hands. The small smile that finally graces your lips feels like victory to Shanks. You turn to head elsewhere, but he stops you with a hand on your shoulder, looking serious. “One more thing, bug.”
He looks you in the eye. “I don’t care that you came back empty handed. I’m just happy you came back. Thanks for keeping Bonk Punch and Monster safe.”
The sincerity clearly flusters you, as you avoid eye contact for a second. Then, to his surprise, you grin. “Empty handed, Captain? Whoever said I was empty handed?” You pull a small green bottle out of your pocket, smugly holding it up to his face.
“Ahh!” Shanks’ face lights up a split second before he grabs you, spinning you around in triumph and all but tossing you into the air. “You little bastard! You did it!”
“You’re gonna make me drop it,” you protest sheepishly. You only say it because you’re embarrassed at his grandiose reaction—nothing on Earth could make you drop that liquor.
That single bottle was the only one that you could nab during your retreat. On the way back, Bonk Punch offered that you both could split it, given all that you’d dealt with, but you had staunchly refused.
The look on the Captain’s face made it all worth it.
“I have the best damn crew in the world,” Shanks gushes, just to fluster you a little more. Predictably, you start to squirm.
“Put me down, you goof.”
“Alright, alright. But try some with me first.”
He has a crewmate bring him a sake cup and stands next to you at the table. Shanks pops the bottle and pours it delicately. None of the crew asks to try—this is the Captain’s privilege, and he chose only to share it with you. While you’re not as interested in liquor as he is, you appreciate what that means to him. You’d drown in booze if it meant making Shanks happy. That trait was why you fit in so well with the other officers. In turn, Shanks took good care of you.
“To us,” Shanks says before tipping the cup back to his lips.
You realize you have no cup and no way of returning the toast. “Hey, you forgot–”
Shanks grabbing your face is your only warning. He kisses you, holding you steady while he lets the liquid flow into your mouth. You relax and accept, your tongues bathed in liquor as they touch, strong and earthy and burning. He tips you back slightly and you grip his shirt, sparks dancing through your body at the way he pushes your tongue up with his, coaxing you to swallow. You let the liquor trickle down your throat, leaving a warm trail down to your belly. He’s greedy; he holds you in place to make out with you for a little longer. You’re not sure how long, it feels so good you don’t really keep track. By the time he pulls away, you’ve definitely changed your mind about fooling around.
“Wow,” you say breathlessly, too high on the moment to be embarrassed.
Benn laughs from where he’s perched on the ship’s rail. “Shanks, come on. You’re going to make the crew think you play favorites.”
“I don’t play favorites,” Shanks says, then looks at you with bedroom eyes. “Want another taste?”
“Sure,” you reply.
Shanks takes another swig and kisses you while Benn rolls his eyes.
The liquor is strong, and you feel yourself get a little tipsy by the second swallow. Shanks has a big dumb grin on his face at the sight of your half-lidded eyes.
“Aw, you’re tipsy just from that? You’re so cute,” he coos.
“Am not—hrk!” You get yoinked by Shanks mid-sentence, the larger man wrapping his arm around your waist and tucking you under like one might carry a small dog.
“Are too~.” He marches off with you to the other commanding officers, one by one, holding you up and asking, “look how cute. Right? Right?”
The other officers chuckle at your expense, heartily agreeing with their captain while you huff and grumble. You really do like when he humiliates you, but you don’t have the guts to be honest about it outside the bedroom.
Shanks gets the agreement of Bonk Punch, Hongo, Gab, then Building Snake. He gets to Limejuice, the only one not really paying attention with his nose buried in a book.
“Isn’t Firefly cute, LJ?” Shanks asks.
Limejuice doesn’t look up.
“LJ? Hey.”
Still no response. You tilt your head up the best you can to see, but you already know what Limejuice is reading. At the last island the Red Force stopped at, there was a library with an extensive adult section. Limejuice found some kind of kink manual. You read the bondage chapter when he loaned it to you—the book was half discussion, half instruction.
“You’re reading that fetish book again?” Shanks says. “What’s got your rapt attention there?”
“Oh, sorry, Captain. It’s… It’s this idea for a game,” Limejuice answers. He’s stoic as ever, but his normally-pale cheeks are tinged with pink.
“Oh?” You and Shanks say at the same time.
“An edging party where the first person to cum gets gangbanged.”
That got everyone’s attention.
In the end, a considerable amount of the polycule was both in the mood, and able to get cleaned out in time.
The ship’s dungeon had a king-sized bed in the corner, some specialized furniture, and plenty of extra blankets, cushions and towels. Stools were brought out for everyone to sit on, arranged in a circle so you could all see each other.
Everyone was in varying degrees of undress. Benn was on your right, and counterclockwise from him was Shanks, Hongo, Limejuice, and Lucky Roux on your left. You’d participated in group play before, but it always made your heart race. They were all so handsome, each body a little different, but brimming with power. Furthermore, all of you were competitive to varying degrees.
You stretched your arms one last time, already flushed warm from head to toe from the anticipation. The multiple sets of eyes on your breasts didn’t help that, either.
You ogled them right back, though. When your eyes settled on the impressive specimen between Hongo’s legs, he whistled at you.
“My eyes are up here,” Hongo smirks, then sticks his tongue out. “Well, if you like it so much, why don’t you help me get hard? Wanna come over here and put those pretty lips on my cock?”
Yes. You absolutely do. But the rules are…
“No touching others,” Limejuice instructs.
“I’m not really good with just my own hand, though,” you say. “Can I use a vibrator?”
“Hm…I don’t see why not. So long as you’re just using it on yourself, it still counts.”
You go to the toybox to select a simple wand while the others start touching themselves. Lewd slapping echoes around you, making you bite your lip as you perched back on the stool.
Rather than putting the wand between your legs, you set it on your right nipple first to warm up. With your other hand, you put some pressure on your clit. The vibrations tingle through your nipple, helping your clit swell under your fingertips. With the buffet of handsome men fisting their cocks before you, it doesn’t take more than that for the pleasure to build.
“You’re all so hot,” you say huskily. “I don’t know which one of you I want to lose.” You already have a strap-on in mind to use on the loser.
Lucky Roux clicks his tongue. “Right back at’cha, beautiful. But the loser won’t be me.”
“You sure about that? Cuz if you lose, after I peg you, I’m gonna ride your face until you drown.”
“A noble death, were I to lose. But we both know that’s not gonna happen.” He sticks his large, wonderfully thick tongue out. “More likely I’m gonna eat your pussy ‘til you’re cryin’. Make sure you get nice and wet for me, okay?”
Your core clenches at his words. Between the two of you, Lucky Roux did have the better control. But you were highly determined, and had better stamina.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, Roux.” You tense your core and grind against your fingers, already feeling the pleasure start to be distracting.
“Confident as ever, aren’t you?” Benn hums.
“Today’s my day. I just feel it.”
“You’re gonna feel this dick in your mouth,” Hongo grunts. A few of the others chuckle.
“Says the guy who got hard first,” you taunt back. Hongo’s cock is fully erect, standing straight up and leaking generously, a delicious sight that has your blood pumping hot in your veins. Like you, he was more sensitive. “I bet you’d love choking on my strap.”
“Would I,” he groans, pumping himself faster. “You little demon.”
Limejuice looks down at you from under his sunglasses and clicks his tongue. “You don’t even have the vibrator on your clit.”
Shanks ‘tsks’ at you. “No one likes a cheater, bug.”
“Trying to get the upper hand on your crewmates?” Benn says.
“You guys are pathetic. I’m not gonna fall for that,” you say. Those clowns knew you were sensitive and were looking for an easy win.
“I want to see the wand on your clit,” Limejuice says, direct as he always is. “I want to see the face you make.”
“I won’t make a face,” you say.
“Prove it, then.”
You set the tip of the wand on your clit, the vibrations rumbly and deep. Though you try to keep your expression neutral, your lips are pressed tightly together at how nice it feels.
“What’s wrong?” Benn asks. “Thinking about getting that tight little pussy of yours stuffed?
Well, you are now.
“Nuh-uh,” you lie, picturing it vividly.
“You’re making a face,” Limejuice smiles.
“And you’re blushing,” you shoot back.
All of the men were flushed red except for Hongo, who was a little too tan for it to show. How couldn’t they be? Everyone was exposed and hard and wanting, little grunts and pants permeating the room.
“I've been eating fruit like crazy,” Limejuice says, “so whoever loses is gonna gobble this dick.”
“Then I’ll make sure to go down on you while the others take your ass,” you tease, feeling a little satisfaction when he bites his lip at the thought.
You were all getting really worked up now. Despite your confidence, you had to pull the wand from your clit because you were getting close, needing time to come down. A few of the others did similarly, taking a quick break to back away from the edge.
You close your eyes and breathe slowly, trying to ease the rush of your blood. That’s when you feel hot breath on your ear.
“Getting close, hmm?” Benn whispers. He had moved his stool to be closer to yours, leaning over you.
“Touching is against the rules,” you say.
“I’m not touching you, am I?” he says. “But I will be soon.”
He’s up to something. You narrow your eyes at him, but go back to touching yourself. A minute later, he’s breathing into your ear again.
“Bet you wanna ride this dick, huh, baby? Want daddy to stretch you out?”
“Benn,” you moan. It was supposed to be an admonishment, but his voice has the need in you growing faster than you intend.
“You wanna cum for me, don’t you? Wanna cum on daddy’s big cock?”
“Benn!” you gasp, not realizing everyone’s watching you now. You’re getting close again thanks to him, too soon. But you know you can hold out, as long as no one touches you.
“Don’t think about it too hard, love,” he says. “Don’t think about us taking turns filling you up. Holding you down, breeding you full.”
You don’t want to lose. You don’t want to lose. Focus, focus on keeping yourself steady, ignore him. As long as he doesn’t touch you, it doesn’t matter how close you are.
Then you feel Benn’s lips brush your ear as he whispers, “I’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.”
Suddenly he’s pinching your nipple with one hand and rubbing your clit with his other. You didn’t even see him get up, but he catches you so off guard there’s nothing you can do to stop yourself.
You cum. And while you’re not vocal about it, the involuntary flashing of light makes it obvious, ribbons of light pulsing through your body from between your legs like silken lightning.
You shut your eyes as it washes over you. When you open them…
“How should we do this?” Shanks says.
They’re all standing in front of you now.
“Wait, hold on, Benn didn’t—” you start to say, but several hands pull you off the stool impatiently. They’re touching all over your body, grabbing every part of you, and you’re moved and angled around a bit as they figure out how they want you.
Limejuice is able to position himself behind you first, grabbing your hips and penetrating your cunt without hesitation. He sets a quick and firm pace, reaching around to rub your clit. It’s a lot after you’re still feeling the waves of your last orgasm.
“Too much-!” you gasp, grabbing his wrist, but he resists your pulling.
“You’ll have to fight harder than that. Or beg me,” he says, pushing your back down while Hongo positions himself at your mouth. “Better do it before he takes away your ability to talk.”
The struggle is working you up again, even so close to your last climax. “Please! Please don’t rub so hard!”
Limejuice eases up on your clit. Hongo takes your jaw in one hand and lines himself up with the other.
“I’m starting to think you lost on purpose,” Hongo says, teasing his cockhead on your lip.
“No, it was Benn! He cheated!” you cry, right before Hongo pushes himself inside your mouth.
Shanks and Benn high-five while the others laugh. Pirates weren’t known for playing fair, after all.
“Let me get in there,” Shanks says to Limejuice, who stops to angle himself so that Shanks can press his cock into your entrance as well.
“Mmmf!” you moan around Hongo’s cock as Shanks stretches you out even further. The three men inside you start to thrust, perfectly coordinated as only a crew with their experience can be. Benn and Lucky Roux take your hands, closing your fingers around their cocks and making you stroke them off.
“Aww, look at them.”
“So good, so fucking good.”
“They’re so tight.”
“Are you nothing but a hole to fuck? Just a willing receptacle for my cum?”
Their perfect teamwork has you quickly building to another orgasm, goaded on by their moans and coos and filthy words. You’re not paying what’s being said all that much attention, too caught up in the heavy sensations, until the next thing spoken echoes something painfully familiar.
“Aw, sweet thing, is this all you’re good for?”
Shanks is the first to notice. Though you don’t react—can’t react—your energy changes. You go a little more still than he’s comfortable with, so he calls out to Hongo. “Hey Hongo, get out of their mouth for a second. Firefly? You okay?”
Hongo complies, and you don’t respond, even after Shanks calls for you again. When you don’t, he stops completely, his tone sharp and clear.
“Overboard!” he calls.
All activity stops immediately. Everyone pulls out of you, and Hongo pulls you by the arms so you’re standing, checking your face. Your eyes are unfocused.
“Firefly?” Hongo says.
“Sorry, I’m sorry,” you say, shaking your head. “I blanked out. I’m—I’m okay.”
But you don’t feel okay, Shanks can sense it. Your energy is writhing like it was earlier, that black shame oozing off of you.
“I don’t believe you,” Shanks says. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Nothing is wrong!” you respond a little too forcefully. “I’m fine!”
Benn crosses his arms and gives you a look, one that always reminds you that he’ll find out eventually.
“It’s…it’s just…” you say.
“Come here,” Benn says, taking you by the shoulder and walking away from the others, toward the bed. Shanks follows him. “Everyone else, give us a few minutes.”
Benn points to the bed. “Sit.”
You sit down, rubbing your arm and avoiding his eye.
“You gonna tell us what’s going on?” Shanks asks, not unkindly.
“I…I don’t want to talk about it right now,” you say.
“But whatever’s going on is causing problems right now,” he replies. “I’m not letting you go through a five-person gangbang after you blanked out, if you don’t tell me why.”
You hang your head, sighing deeply, resigning yourself to your confession.
“A few days ago,” you start. “That fight with Kizaru.”
Shanks and Benn perk up, immediately concerned.
“There were other things he said. Stuff about how weak I am.” You avoid their eye, remembering it clear as day.
Kizaru’s light sword was stuck into the rock next to your head. Its light threw shadows over the older man’s face, flickering in his glasses. “Why would Shanks make someone so weak an officer? You’re not at their level,” he sneered. “I bet it’s because of your body. They’ve all had a turn, haven’t they? It’s all dead weight like you is good for…”
“He called me dead weight. And I hated it, I hate what he said. But…” Your eyes well up with tears. “He grabbed my neck, and I…and I…” you shut your eyes, the next words escaping as a sob. “I was so turned on.”
Silence. It only lasts a moment, but you can’t stand to hear it.
“I’m sorry,” you hang your head, voice wavering and high pitched. “I was scared, terrified, but also…” you hiccup, the tears break from your lash line. “Like it was you, Shanks, or Benn. Or any of the others. It’s not fair. I hate it. I hate myself.”
You sniffle, breathing short and punchy as you try to rein in your crying.
“Oh, Firefly,” Shanks says, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you into his middle. “That doesn’t mean anything. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
Benn nods. “Shanks is right. We’re not upset with you, so you shouldn’t be upset with yourself.”
“But I am!” you cry. “My body is…is wrong.”
“Stop that,” Shanks chides. “No it’s not.”
Benn hugs you from your other side, the two of them patting your back and petting your head while the tears stream down your cheeks. They give you a few minutes, and you calm down some.
“I think you should sit out this session,” Benn says after a while.
“What?! No!” you cry. “That’s not fair! You’re punishing me for this?”
“You’re not in the right headspace. It’s not safe,” Shanks says.
“But I worked so hard! I hiked for days! I want to blow off steam.”
“I’ll fuck you one-on-one,” Benn says.
“No, I want to play with everyone!” you demand.
Shanks and Benn exchange glances. They don’t want you to feel punished, but they’re worried about you. You hadn’t blanked out during a session in years.
“Hmm,” Benn says. “Well…”
“Well what?” Shanks looks at him in surprise. “What are you thinking about?”
“I have an idea,” Benn says. “Shanks, come with me. Let’s ask the others if we can change up the session.”
“Change it up how?” you ask.
“You’ll see,” Benn says. “If you want to play, it has to be under certain conditions.”
The two of them go back to the others. They talk in hushed whispers, not loud enough for you to make out what’s being said. The men glance at you now and then, making you feel exposed. While they talk, you go get some wipes to blow your nose and clean your face.
After a few minutes, Shanks returns to your side at the bed. “Here’s what we’re gonna do. You can still be the focus, but maybe not in the way you think you want.”
You frown. “What does that mean?”
“It means we’re going to do a little roleplay.”
You instantly know his intentions, the exact idea Benn has in mind. You expect your first instinct to be repulsion, but frustratingly, the idea of them roleplaying Marines turns you on so badly you can’t even refuse right away. Instead you stare at him, heat burning in your cheeks.
“What do you think?” Shanks says.
“No, I—um. I mean. I…” you’re trying to protest, but Shanks gives a little smile, figuring you out as usual. You know hiding it never works forever, so you give in and be honest. “I don’t want to like it, but I’m really turned on right now. Though I’m a bit nervous. It might be a lot.”
“It probably will be, but nothing you can’t handle,” Shanks says it like it’s a concrete fact. Like the sky is blue.
It makes you want to cry and scream and jump his bones. It makes you want to follow him into hell. You had initially joined him because being part of a powerful crew offered protection. But that affect he had, that gravitational pull on your heart was the reason you stayed.
Someone fetches a bunch of stolen Marine uniforms from a storage room, and you tap your feet nervously as they get passed out. Most elected just to wear the shirt and cape, or even just threw the capes on and nothing else, but it was still making you feel some kind of way. Small. Outnumbered. Lesser. You weren’t sure how this was supposed to help you, but you’d play along if it meant you got to play at all.
“You’ve been fighting Kizaru since you were young. Before puberty, right?” Benn said as he buttoned up his shirt. “Going through that development while being hunted… Could it be, maybe you’ve had nights where you fantasized about him taking advantage of you?” You can’t look Benn in the eye, and he nods to himself. “Thought so.”
“Come here,” Limejuice says, and you get off the bed and go to the middle of the room, knowing that it was about to begin.
Limejuice grabs your hair at the roots, pushing you onto your knees. He smiles down at you, slapping his cock against your cheek.
“What? Embarrassed that you want Marine dick?” he says. “Don't be…you should be honored to take what I give you.”
Hongo takes your wrists and forces them behind your back. Shanks grabs one of your shoulders and Benn grabs the other, iron grip pinning you on your knees with no hope to escape. Lucky Roux holds your jaw and wrenches it open.
Limejuice pushes into your mouth, cock still wet and warm with precum. He grips your hair tightly and starts rolling his hips back and forth, grunting.
“Oh, fuck, it’s perfect! Ah!” he cries. “Such a good little toy, you feel amazing!”
You struggle, but can barely move with all of them holding you down. There’s nothing you can do to stop Limejuice’s cock violating your mouth, sliding against your tongue and tapping the back of your throat.
“Just as I thought, your mouth fits me perfectly. I wonder if your throat will too?” He croons. “You won’t fight back if we let you go, will you? Haven’t you been waiting for this? To get caught by us?”
On cue, the others let go of you, but your first instinct is to pull back and fight, so they grab you again and force you still. Your shins hurt from the force of it.
“Tsk tsk tsk,” Limejuice tuts, “wrong choice. Now I have to punish you. Angle them forward, men, I’m going to get in that little throat.”
They do so, getting you at the perfect angle for Limejuice to push his way into your throat. You’re held in place while he thrusts in the delicate space, moaning.
“Oh, fuck. I’m close,” Limejuice whines. “Just a little more. I could finish in your throat, but I won’t.” His fingers tighten in your hair painfully. “I think I’ll fill your mouth instead. I want you to taste me.”
He fucks your throat for a little longer, then pulls back. A slightly sweet taste spreads through your mouth as he cums, groaning deep.
“Swallow every drop,” Limejuice commands.
You close your mouth, and swallow thickly. He sticks his fingers in your mouth and pinches the tip of your tongue, pulling it out to check, and grins when it’s clean.
Benn crouches down and sticks his hands between your thigh. You gasp as a finger dips into your folds. “They’re dripping,” he reports.
“Permission to use them, Admiral?” Lucky Roux asks.
“Granted.”
The thought that Benn’s decided to take on the role of Kizaru is immediately dumped out of your mind when your world goes upside down. Lucky Roux’s grabbed you by the hips and effortlessly turned you over, bringing your cunt to his mouth. He sits down, your body supported by his belly. There’s little you can do as his tongue tastes in and around your folds, tracing their shape in between licks to your slit. His tongue is so wide, each lick brushes your clit and makes you squirm. He eats you out hungrily, sucking and kissing every inch of your vulva until your legs quiver.
“Slow, slow down,” you whimper, but he doesn't slow his assault.
Hongo crouches so his face is in front of your upside-down one, admiring your expression. Then he grabs your head to hold it still so he can forcibly kiss you.
Your toes curl as you're tongued from both ends, a helpless noise slipping from you.
You nod quickly, the blood rushing to your head and clit simultaneously, winding you tighter and…
“No, you're not,” Benn says.
On cue, Lucky Roux stops, pulling away. You're frustrated, but not enough to voice it yet. You squirm a little as Roux passes you to Hongo, who stands you upright only to push one arm behind your back to keep control of you.
“I'll only let you cum next if it's on a cock,” Benn says, then gives a harsh slap to the side of your ass, “and only if it's in your ass.”
Genuine hesitation creeps into your gut. You've never cum from just anal before, and you really don't want to get edged within an inch of your life.
“Don't look so nervous. You don't have a choice, after all. May as well relax.” Benn looks at the rest of the group. “Line up, men.”
Hongo shoves you onto the ground. You barely catch yourself on your hands and knees. He bends over and grabs your arms, yanking them behind your back, where Limejuice ties your wrists together.
You try to look over your shoulder and manage to get a quick glimpse of the other men forming a line, right before Benn steps on the space between your shoulders, pushing your torso to the ground. Pinned below his foot, your head is turned to the side, cheek to the ground, unable to see who's currently behind you, but able to see the rest of the line.
Limejuice is at the end of the line, jerking himself back to attention. After him is Lucky Roux and Shanks, which means–
A huge cock enters your pussy without warning, pushing in all the way to the hilt. Hongo grabs your hips and starts railing you, his head thrown back in ecstasy.
“What a hole!” he groans. “Thanks, Admiral!”
You struggle against Benn's strength, but with the addition of Hongo's bruising grip on your hips, and the pleasure he's driving into your core, it's hard to fight back. You're stuck under them, given no mercy and no reprieve, just pounded until the pleasure is about to burst.
Hongo stops just before you cum, leaving you on the edge.
“What are you doing?” you pant.
“Sharing in the spoils,” Hongo replies, pulling out of you and spanking your ass so hard it rocks you forward, making you yelp. “We’ve got a lot of pent up soldiers, you know.”
Another swat of your ass causes you to grunt in pain. All the men know how much you can take, and they’re not shy about pushing you to the limits with their strength. A third spank, then the fourth makes you gasp at the hot sting.
“A few more should reset them,” Benn says, and Hongo swings another heavy spank to your ass.
“Reset me? Ahh-!” Your question is cut off by Shanks entering you in one firm thrust. “Ah, ah, fuck!”
“That’s right, keep moaning for me,” Shanks croons. “Tell me how good it feels when I fuck this tight little pussy.”
He fucks you like Hongo did, setting a brisk pace from the beginning and giving you no rest. You try in vain to repress your moans, seeing the other men in line jacking themselves off to the sight.
Shanks doesn’t hold you in place, letting Benn’s strength hold you down for him, and instead using his hand to rub your clit. He grins when it draws a long, low moan from you.
You shut your eyes, quickly feeling the sensation build again, especially since Shanks knows exactly how to play with your clit.
You try not to voice it, you try to just let the orgasm sneak in, but at that moment you’re about to climax, Shanks stops, pulling out and leaving you frustrated. You realize Benn’s using his Observation Haki to read your energy, and signaling to the men to stop when you’re close to orgasm.
“Don’t edge me, damn it!” you protest.
“We’ll consider letting you cum,” Benn says, “if you admit you like being raped by Marines.”
“What—no!” you shout. Immediately a harsh spank stings your ass. “Fuck!”
“Then we’ll keep going.”
Shanks’ power means that getting spanked by him is closer to being whipped. You grunt in pain at the next few spanks. They hurt more because you can’t see them, can’t anticipate them coming.
Smack! Smack smack smack!
“Ahh!” you cry, tearing up as the stinging is contrasted by an especially thick cock spreading you open. Lucky Roux is next, massaging your burning ass cheeks as he starts to fuck that massive cock into you.
He doesn’t even need to touch your clit, he’s so big you know you’re going to cum if given a few minutes. And for those few minutes, it’s bliss, especially with the lingering sting of your rear. You tear up at how good you’re being fucked, only starting to panic when you get close to cumming.
“Please don’t stop, please don’t stop!” you plead, but it doesn’t save you from being edged again. “Fuck, no!”
“Admit it, you love this,” Lucky Roux husks, pulling out.
“It’s not true!” you protest, only to get your ass smacked hard again, burning worse with the prior spankings.
“If it’s not true,” Benn muses, “why haven’t we needed to bring out the lube yet? Hey, someone go get that.”
“On it,” Shanks says.
“It’s true!” Lucky Roux says. “Their pussy’s so wet, even with us taking turns!”
“I’m not doing it on purpose,” you whine, only to yelp as Lucky Roux spanks your sore ass a few times before going to the back of the line.
Limejuice positions himself at your entrance and starts thrusting hard.
“Maybe we should fuck em two at a time,” he suggests, only to groan at your body’s response. “They got tighter! You want that, do you?”
“Then let’s not, it’ll be harder to edge them,” Benn decides.
“Please, don’t!” you moan, Limejuice targeting your g-spot perfectly.
“Why not? I thought you didn’t—like—this?” Limejuice taunts, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.
They take turns railing you for what feels like hours, stopping when you’re on the edge and spanking you until you come back down, only for the next man to take his turn. The person in front goes to the back of the line, repeating the cycle, extending your torment. No amount of begging stops them, not until you say what they want to hear.
You think you’re going to lose it. You almost admit it with your next edge, crying out when you get denied again.
“Okay! I like it!” you cry. “I like it, so let me cum!”
Benn sneers. “Say you like—no, say you love being used.”
“I love…I love being used.”
“By who, again?” Hongo asks as he thrusts in deep. You’re close again, you need it, you need it so badly.
“By the Marines!”
And yet, despite your plea, they deny you at the edge once more.
You sob. “Why?!”
“Who specifically?” Benn asks.
“I want Admiral Kizaru to use me!” you beg. “Please!”
Finally, Benn smirks to himself in satisfaction. He walks over to the toybox, pulling out a condom and bringing it back to you.
“Open it,” he says.
“But my hands are—”
“Tied, yes. Use your teeth.”
He holds the condom wrapper to your mouth. Face flushed in embarrassment, you bite the edge and pull until it tears open, then spit out the plastic.
“Now put it on me,” Benn instructs. “I’m going to fuck you anally. Later on, I’ll fuck your pussy. So you better do a good job if you don’t want an infection.”
“You’re a real gentleman, aren’t you,” you say sarcastically. “How am I supposed to…”
Benn responds by taking out the condom, holding it up to your mouth with one hand, and holding his dick in place next to it with the other.
You burn with humiliation, angry tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Carefully, you use your tongue and lips to place the condom over the head of his cock, its shape spreading your lips open as you roll it on delicately. You have to push with your lips on the condom’s outer edge to get it to unroll, taking him into your mouth as you go. Benn’s big enough that you’re nearly deepthroating him to put it all the way on.
“Wow, look at you. You’re a natural,” he taunts as you lift your head, coughing a few times but otherwise successful. “Remember that you begged for this. I’m being kind enough to grant your request. Say thank you while I take your ass—or I’ll never let you cum.”
Benn grabs you suddenly, using his body weight to force you back to the ground. You hear the click of the lube bottle before the cold, wet sensation of his cock head touches your ass, pushing until he’s rubbing at the ring of muscle.
“What do we say?” Benn prompts.
“Th-thank you,” you stutter as he penetrates the delicate hole slowly, pulling back out to pour on more lube before pushing back in again. After being edged for so long, your entire pelvic floor is sensitive, so the feeling of his cock spreading out your ass is pure euphoria. Your eyes roll back when he reaches the hilt. “Thank you, thank you…”
He starts fucking you in earnest while the others watch and jerk themselves off, a twisted symphony of wet squelches and smacking skin. You barely notice the sound above the feeling, so good and so raw that you can only hang your head and whimper.
“You always knew it would come to this, didn’t you?” Benn says, panting. “All those years, all that running. Isn’t it so much easier to give in?”
Your legs shake, only held up by his position now. You moan like a whore.
“Isn’t it so much easier to be my plaything?” he asks.
It causes you to sob a little, combined with the pleasure. It was easier. It was so much easier, and felt so much better…
Benn fucks your ass for as long as the men were taking turns with you earlier. All you can do is moan and feel it. It doesn’t matter—you won’t be able to cum from that alone, even pushed this far. You just can’t. That’s why he was taking you like this, after all. Hands tied behind your back, your only option is to beg.
“Please…” you whimper. “My clit…please, touch me there! Please let me cum! I really, really need to cum!”
“Of course you do,” Benn tuts. “And you’ve been so good. Why is that? Have we broken you? Well?”
“Y…Yes,” you admit, hiccuping. “So, please…I’ll do anything.”
“Say you’ll be our toy for as long as we want. Say you won’t fight back.”
You groan. His balls are slapping against your vulva, his hips smacking into you with every hard thrust. “I won’t fight back. I’ll be your toy for as long as you want.”
“You sure sound good begging under me,” he says. “Now, thank me for making you feel so good.”
He reaches around to touch your bulging, engorged clit, and you scream. “Thank you! Oh! Oh fuck, oh my god!”
Benn pushes your head into the floor as he increases the force behind his thrusts, growling in pleasure while you cry out repeatedly. You’re going to cum and it’s going to be a big one.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! Ahhh!”
The world seems to stutter as your orgasm hits you like a freight train. The sensation between your legs explodes, rocking your entire body with intense, euphoric waves that leave your head spinning. You arch and cry out as it pulses through you. Like before, light flashes and glows from your body, a deep golden color this time rather than the usual white.
“Their color’s gotten deeper,” Shanks muses. “Haven’t seen gold all that often.”
Benn rubs you through your orgasm, pressing kisses to the back of your neck as you ride it out. Your clit is still throbbing when he pulls out and peels off the condom to toss. You anticipated more of a reprieve given the intensity of your still-pulsing orgasm, so you’re taken by surprise when he pulls you upright, untying your wrists only to secure your arms with his muscular ones.
Shanks mounts your legs, heavy cock in hand, and you start to squirm.
“What are you doing?” you squeak, high-pitched and uncertain.
“This,” Shanks says, and rubs his tip against your clit.
The feeling is severely intense, you immediately yelp and struggle against Benn. “No, no, wait! It’s too soon, too soon!”
But your pleas fall on uncaring ears as they work together to overstimulate you. The blunt, wet head of his cock rubs your clit mercilessly until you’re sobbing again, jerking and writhing to try to get away in vain. You expected cruelty when you gave yourself over to them, and you had to take the consequences of giving in.
Hongo takes your left leg and Lucky Roux takes your right leg, spreading them apart and holding them still so Shanks can get closer. Shanks starts thrusting along your vulva, your folds lubricating his cock while his tip bumps your clit with each pass. This way it’s slightly less intense, but only barely.
“Tell me,” Shanks says, thrusting leisurely, “when you fantasized about Admiral Kizaru fucking you, how rough was he?”
“He was…he was…” you pant, overwhelmed. “Rough enough to hurt. To leave bruises.”
“Is that what you want?” Benn asks.
“Yes, it is…”
Shanks slaps you across the face, not as hard as he spanked your ass, but firmly enough for a deep, lingering sting to burn your cheek. You grunt at the pain, and he slaps you again on the other cheek. Then he grabs your face and kisses you roughly, biting your lips.
Benn licks your neck before biting down hard, the pain making you gasp into Shanks’ mouth. “You wouldn’t bruise if you had my logia fruit…what a shame.”
Shanks or Benn must have used some signal between them, because they both stop their assault while the other men let you go. Shanks caresses your cheek, looking into your eyes.
“Firefly, love? I’m breaking scene for a sec. You doing okay?” he says.
“Huh?” You hadn’t used the safeword, nor had you been in a bad space, so you realized Shanks was the one who wanted to check in. It made sense, he did hate striking your face, even if he was willing to do it for a scene.
“I’m okay. Do you need a break?” you ask him, covering his hand on your cheek.
“I think I’ll take a few minutes. Don’t like hitting you,” he says, kissing you gently this time.
“Should we wait for you?” Benn asks him.
“No, you can keep going. I’ll jump back in soon.”
You nod. “You don’t have to slap my face if you don’t like it. Bully me the way you want to next time.”
“Alright, I will,” Shanks chuckles, going to get some water.
“I’m taking a break too,” Benn says, putting his hands on your shoulders. “You men enjoy their body for a while.”
Benn pushes you into Lucky Roux, who picks you up over his head, shouting triumphantly. “All right! More for us!”
“Hey!” you yelp, but Lucky Roux tosses you onto the bed.
Benn goes to check on Shanks while Limejuice jumps on top, grinning wickedly down at you.
“Hey, sweetness. Ready for round 3?” he asks. To your right, Hongo’s climbing onto the bed, his left hand closed around something that has wires coming from it. You recognize the bullet vibrators and feel yourself clench in anticipation.
Lucky Roux leans over your other side, body tape in hand. Limejuice holds you down while they tape the bullet vibrators to each of your nipples. Your back arches when they turn them on, sending deep vibrations into your sensitive nipples.
Then Lucky Roux positions himself at the foot of the bed, pulling your legs apart so he can eat you out again. He dives in without pause, wetly lapping at your center before he penetrates you with his big tongue.
“Luckyyyy,” you moan, forgetting the scene.
“Aren’t you?” Limejuice teases, pushing down on one of the vibrators so you squirm. Then he positions his cock on your chest, pushing your breasts around his length and starting to thrust.
Hongo perches next to your head, tracing your lips with his first two fingers before pushing them into your waiting mouth, cooing praises when you accept him. His other hand takes one of yours, holding it so you can squeeze the safe signal if needed.
“Good little prisoner, suck on my fingers like you’re gonna suck my cock later,” Hongo praises. “Maybe I’ll let you cum for being so cooperative.”
Focus is a challenging thing to grasp when you’re being eaten out by the hungriest man on the Grand Line, especially when his buddy is titfucking you with vibrators attached. But you do your best to lick Hongo’s fingers obediently, being the good toy you had agreed to be. Hongo massages your tongue with his calloused fingertips, thrusting them just a little deeper into your mouth.
“How’s it feel, sweetheart?” Hongo purrs, pulling his fingers out to hear your response.
“Feels good,” you moan. “I’m gonna cum soon.”
“Say when.”
“No,” you protest, “you’ll edge me.”
“I won’t edge you longer than a second.”
“Promise?” you say nervously.
“I promise,” he says.
Lucky Roux’s tongue keeps thrusting, his nose pressing against your clit, and combined with Limejuice groping your breasts, you cant last much longer.
“I’m close,” you moan into Hongo’s mouth.
Hongo pulls away. Your orgasm crests, just on the cusp of breaking.
Then Hongo rips the tape off your nipples, making you shout at the sharp and rough sensation. It’s just enough to pull you back from the edge.
Without waiting, Hongo sucks on your stinging nipple, and you almost shout again at the warm, buzzy, nearly painful feeling. It’s like he pulls the orgasm back to the brink with his sucking, and climax soaks into you a second later, rolling through you from one end to the other, your limbs going slack for a few moments as the bliss spreads.
“Fuck, oh fuck, thank you,” you whimper.
“They remembered their manners,” Limejuice chuckled. “Cute.”
Slowly but surely, they’re waning down even your impressive stamina. The three barely give you any time to rest before they’re moving you again, positioning you however they please.
Limejuice puts on a condom, slathering his cock with lube before pulling you to lay sideways with him. He guides his cock into your ass, rubbing your back as he spreads you open.
“Relax, there you go…just let me in, that’s it…” he purrs.
Hongo crawls to lay at your front, nudging his cock between your folds and thrusting up into your cunt. Once he sinks in, he rests his hands on your breasts, squeezing and massaging them.
Lucky Roux repositions to be next to your head, tilting it up to look at him.
“Open wide,” Lucky Roux says, fingers at your lip to encourage you. Then he helps guide his fat dick into your mouth, filling you so well you have to consciously relax your jaw to fit him all.
Hongo and Limejuice grind into you with collaborative precision. It’s like they make a game out of getting you to moan into Lucky’s cock.
“See, you have more fun when you do as you’re told,” Limejuice murmurs in your ear.
“I think I’ll reward you,” Hongo says into your other ear, then looks over your shoulder. “What do you think, Lime? They deserve to cum, right?”
“Oh, most definitely. Let’s see if we can make ‘em squirt.”
“You got it,” Hongo agrees, pressing hard into your g-spot.
“Mmf!” you groan as Limejuice starts teasing your nipples, rubbing them back and forth and pinching gently. “Mmmmf…”
“That’s right, just keep moaning like a good toy,” Lucky Roux praises, caressing your cheeks and looking down at you fondly. You moan again, and Lucky coos. “Ya gonna cum? Gonna cum with three cocks in you?”
If the way the the tension coiling within you is any indication, you will soon. And Hongo is determined to make you squirt, his hips snapping into yours so hard it makes Limejuice grunt in pleasure behind you. It takes a lot of g-spot pressure to get you to squirt, and Hongo goes after it brutally, bullying the spongy, sensitive area.
You can feel the tightness just below your clit, those particular muscles tensing. He’s going to do it. He’s going to make you squirt and there’s nothing you can do to stop him.
“All over me,” Hongo says. “Cum all over me, I want you to gush until you can’t look me in the eye.”
Lucky Roux pushes your head further down on his cock, and you orgasm shortly after, tension snapping. You squirt a rush of warm fluid all over Hongo, Limejuice, and the bed. Lucky pulls out of your mouth so they can hear you gasp and cry, the unique orgasm shivering all throughout your cunt. Ribbons of light flash through your body as always, though the gold has deepened to a light orange color.
Then the three of them keep fucking your holes, not giving you even time to ride out the orgasm, and it shudders and shifts into a second one before you can process it. Your glowing body flashes with the color of a sunset, just on the cusp of redness. You nearly lose your perception, senses hazing over with the intensity of your muscles contracting and your nerves going haywire.
When you perceive reality once again, Shanks and Benn are standing next to the bed.
“Good work, men,” Benn says. “You got ‘em warmed up for us.”
“Warmed up?” you squeak. You’re not sure you can take much more of this. When would they end this game? They were able to last because they could alternate when one of them got close, but you had been edged and double-orgasmed back to back. There were bruises on your body from their rough treatment, bruises on your knees and bite marks on your neck.
And you still weren’t sure how this was supposed to help you. You supposed admitting your feelings and being rewarded for it was healthy. But you had a feeling there was something else. An ace up their sleeve, like always.
You should have known.
Hongo and Limejuice pull out, and they and Lucky Roux get off the bed to make room for Shanks and Benn, who immediately cage you between them. Shanks puts his hand on the back of your neck and bends you over, thumbing your folds open.
“Right here, Admiral,” Shanks says.
“Don’t be shy, now,” Benn says as he lines himself up, “why not join me?”
They both guide their cocks into your cunt at the same time, spreading you wide around their dual thickness. Benn repositions to get under you, finding your clit and starting to rub with a calloused finger.
You should have known.
It feels too good. They’re too lenient. Your pleasure builds too fast, and soon you’re on the edge of another orgasm.
Naturally, they edge you again.
Full stop, leaving you teetering on the brink.
“No, not again!” you cry. “I’ve said everything! What do you want me to say now?”
“Say that you’re good,” Shanks says as if it’s obvious, taking off his Marine cape and throwing it behind him.
“What?
Shanks grins. It’s one of his mean ones, one when he knows he’s making trouble. “I want you to say that you’re good, and strong, and deserve to cum. I want you to say that you’re valuable.”
“I can’t do that!” you say immediately. Now you know why he’s grinning like that. He knows that’s a tall order for you.
“Aw, come on. Sure you can. You’re just gonna keep getting edged if you don’t. Not by the Marines this time, but…” he jerks his thumb at his chest. “By the Red Hair Pirates.”
You look at him with betrayal. Whatever the Marines could do, the Red Hair Pirates would do worse.
“Don’t give me that look. I’m trying to help you. And what could help more than a little team-building exercise?”
The other men chuckle, discarding their Marine clothes and circling around you again.
“What do you think, Firefly? You gonna tell me what a good baby bug you are?” Shanks tilts your chin up with his first two fingers.
“I can’t,” you whine.
“Then I guess we gotta keep going,” he grins. “Hey, boys, a question: any of you ever notice how their light will start to get more gold or even orange the harder they cum? I have a theory…If we fuck them good enough, I bet we could make that light red.”
And so, the next few hours become a blur, waves of pleasure that build and crest and edge, then wane as they wait for you to come down. Over and over, build, build, edge, wait.
You’re flipped onto your stomach and Shanks starts railing you. You get edged.
They take turns double penetrating you, the condom pile on the floor growing bigger over time. You get edged.
You warm Shanks’ cock while the others kiss and lick and suck on your body, especially your breasts. You get edged.
Over and over, until you wonder hazily what’s wrong with you. Why can’t you just say it? They wanted you to believe it so badly, didn’t they? What would it hurt to say out loud? Hadn’t you worked hard to get here? Maybe you deserved to feel good.
You open your mouth, getting close again as Hongo sucks on your clit while you’re impaled on Benn’s cock. But all you can say is “w-wait!” and it doesn’t stop them from edging you again.
You think you’re going to go crazy.
Three times in your life, you’ve questioned Shanks. Three times, and then never again.
“Why do you want me in your crew?” you had asked.
“You’re a good sailor,” Shanks said simply.
Limejuice and Lucky Roux suck on your nipples while Shanks fingers you.
You get edged.
“Why do you want me to be a commanding officer?” you had asked.
“You’re a good friend,” Shanks said.
Benn puts you in a mating press and you think you’re going to squirt again—only, of course, to get edged.
One night you storm away from a party in the galley, marching up to Shanks standing by the railing. You’re flustered from Benn having flirted with you again.
“Damn it, Shanks, I’ve had it up to here with you and your slutty crew hitting on me left and right!”
“You seem more bothered by it than usual,” Shanks said.
“It doesn’t make sense! Why do…why do you want me?” you questioned him, for the last time.
Shanks laughed. “Because we love you, Firefly.”
They passed you between them, your body nearly limp in their careful hold.
What was the point of it all? You couldn’t stop anything. You couldn’t resist anything. You could only change your situation if you said what you were the most afraid to say.
“Come on, baby, you can do it,” Shanks says, fucking you in missionary now.
Years you had been hunted. The child with no value except their bounty. That no one wanted. The bad child. The blinding child, the glowing child who was too much. Who, even while running from the law, wanted to be good. For a while, you forgot that was a part of you. Didn’t see what Shanks saw in you, why he kept you.
“Say you’re good.”
Not until years later, until that idea he had planted—that you were good, and loved—sprouted.
“I…I…” you stuttered.
Shanks kissed your chest lovingly, and the edge came once more, and you broke.
“I am good!” you cried.
“Yes!” Shanks hisses, then laughs and kisses you. The men cheer in triumph, exchanging high fives and pats like they had finished a football game.
“Then, just a few more times,” Shanks says, “Give us a few more, let us reward you, let us show you how much we love you, let’s cum together.”
You’re handed to Lucky Roux, who lowers you onto his cock, moving you as easily as if you were a toy, fucking you onto him.
“I am…good!” you cried, body tense and taught from all the previous edging.
Lucky Roux finally lets himself cum with you, finishing warm in your cunt.
Then it’s Limejuice’s turn, who fucks you against the wall until you’re moaning over his shoulder. “I deserve to c-cum!”
Limejuice climaxes hard, spurting inside you. He holds you close before passing you to Hongo.
The doctor bends you over, rubbing your clit as he pounds away from behind. “Keep talking sweet, baby bug,” he purrs.
“I’m strong as—fuck!” you nearly growl at how good it feels, your body hurtling toward the edge so hard you’re afraid you’re going to pass out.
Hongo releases inside you, grunting into your ear.
Benn picks you up next, going over to Shanks so they can double penetrate you for the big finish. They both enter you vaginally, their favorite way to share you.
“Say what we wanna hear,” Benn husks into your ear, kissing the back of your neck.
“I am valuable!” you cry.
“Ahh, that’s so fucking good,” Benn growls as he cums.
Then it’s just you and Shanks, who holds you close, kissing you passionately before making the final request.
“Tell me who my favorite is,” he says.
He thrusts steadily, bringing you to the peak you’ve so desperately waited for. Finally, toes curled, legs tensed, back arched, you straddle the edge one more time, and then...
You cum hard, and scream.
“I’m Shanks’ favorite!”
Deep, ruby red light pulses from your body, throwing scarlet shadows around the room. You see stars, everything else fading behind the sheer, brilliant euphoria that explodes every nerve ending between your legs. Your heart pounds so hard you think it’ll pop right out of your chest. Faintly, you hear Shanks whispering praises into your ear as everything pulses and throbs. You can’t make out what he’s saying, just that he’s happy.
“Shanks,” you cry softly, and feel his arm tightening around you.
“Right here, my love,” he says.
When you’re able to piece your world back together, you find yourself lying on your back on the bed. Shanks is lying next to you, holding you to his chest. Benn’s on the other side, one hand resting on your hip.
For the first few minutes, you don’t say much aside to assure them that you’re okay. Water gets passed around, and the men wipe up the worst of the messes on them, intending to get the rest in the shower. You’re far too exhausted to even consider it. Luckily, they’re all well aware.
A towel is wrapped around you, and more dab at your body, wiping between your legs. You’ll be showered properly later, but for now you need to lay still and rest.
“Wanna talk about it?” Benn asks you gently. “Any of it?”
“No,” you say. “I mean… no, I don’t think so. I just need to cry a little, but it’s not coming out yet.
“Take your time.”
“You did a good job in your role,” you say to Benn, smiling slightly. “I was picturing him.”
“Yeah, Benn is really good at being a bitch,” Shanks says, only for Benn to pull his ear like an unruly schoolboy. “Ow ow ow sorry.”
You giggle and settle between them. Your giggle turns into a small sob. Then the tears come, taking you a bit by surprise. You don’t fight it, don’t over think it, just let yourself cry it out. It all wells up and spills over, all the height of your emotional energy brought to the surface and ready to release in one go.
Shanks kisses your forehead, petting your head. “You did great. Just like I knew you would.”
You cry, because they were right, and you needed this. You cry because Shanks and the other officers love you. You cry because Shanks saw the real you before you even did. Shanks brought back the goodness in you that had shriveled in the face of hardship, and made you blossom into the best version of yourself.
Benn and Shanks soothe you and pass you tissues, letting the cry run its course. Then you sink into the bed, thoroughly exhausted. You close your eyes to sleep, planning on cleaning the sheets some other time.
Throughout the day, different officers come in to check on you. When you next wake up, Shanks and Benn take you to the showers to wash you, massaging your sore body and peppering you with adoring kisses.
You rest for another whole day. Then you eat like crazy, your appetite briefly rivaling Lucky’s.
A few days later, you’re headed to dock at one of the islands in Shanks’ territory. A call comes in on the ship transponder snail from the coastal town’s mayor. He’s leaving Shanks a warning that a naval vessel was spotted offshore, and to be on guard if he comes to dock.
Shanks brings his commanding officers together to discuss what he wants to do.
“Five warships,” he says. “Not a problem, though Admiral Kizaru is rumored to be with them.”
“They must have been heading in the same direction as us from the last island,” Building Snake says. “After all, this one is the next logical stop on the way.”
“Think they’ll dock on one of our territories?” Yasopp questions.
“They probably thought they could get away with it to resupply quickly,” Shanks nods, and then grins, “we better show them why that’s a no-no.”
Benn glances at you. “What do you think? Want to get a little revenge?”
“No,” you say simply. The others stare. “What?”
“You don’t want to fight Kizaru?” Gab asks.
“Oh, him. I can fight him if you want me to, Shanks. But I don’t need to.”
“Oh, really?” he says, smiling. He waggles his eyebrows at you. “What changed?”
You chuckle. “I’m sorry to disappoint, but I don’t care that much anymore. It’s not a big deal. You want his head on a stick? I’ll get it for you. But only if you desire it.”
Shanks drapes his arm around your shoulders, laughing. “Okay, Firefly. No heads on sticks for now, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You smile as Shanks starts giving out orders. The plan is to intercept the Marines, scaring them away from shore and preventing them from docking. You take your usual position in the crow’s nest, keeping an eye on the horizon with your spyglass and relaying what you see.
And when you eventually get close enough to see Kizaru, you smile.
Nothing he can say, nothing he can do can bother you, if only for the simple fact that Shanks thinks differently of you. The way Shanks sees you is how you’ll see yourself—no one else’s opinion mattered. You had Shanks and the commanding officers, and they held you out of the reach of your past.
Because to Shanks, you weren’t a monstrous anglerfish, but a precious firefly, a thing to cup delicately in your hand so you can see it lighting up your palms like magic. And that was all you ever needed to be.
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