'Playfully Begging for a Kiss' Headcanons - Straw Hats, Whitebeard Pirates
Ao3 Link
After writing this prompt for Namur I wanted to do a HC set for more characters.
“Help!” You shout, running over and collapsing into their arms. “It’s critical! Quickly! I need…a kiss!”
Luffy: Big, dramatic “What?!” He immediately grabs your face and gives you a kiss, looking worried when he pulls away. “Are you okay now?” Yes, Captain, you certainly are now.
Nami: “It’ll cost you,” she says.
“I’ll pay anything! Please!”
Nami smiles and kisses you. “I’ll collect later,” she promises.
Zoro: “You won’t die from a lack of kisses,” he says. But all it takes is for you to pout or really insist that you need it to live. He’ll relent and play along, giving you a brief but earnest kiss. BUT if Sanji is watching, he’ll immediately kiss you from the start just to hold it over the cook.
Sanji: Heart eyes, blushing, he becomes a mess of adoration. All he can manage to respond is with “Of course!” before he kisses you passionately. Thankfully, he’s a good kisser even when he’s flustered. Sanji thinks about your little ploy for the rest of the day.
Usopp: Matches your energy, responding with the same dramatics. He’s also flustered, but commits to the bit. “Then count on me to provide!” he says with his chest thrust out, and then dips you back for a kiss.
Franky: “You got it, baby!” he says, and kisses you. If you hype him up with a “you saved me!” he’ll do his signature pose.
Robin: She giggles and gives you a soft, sweet little kiss. If she’s feeling frisky, you might feel another set of lips elsewhere on your body, where the crew can’t see…
Brook: “But I don’t have lips! Yohohoho!” he says, just to get you to laugh.
“Kiss me anyway?” you ask.
“Really? You don’t mind?”
You nod.
“Well, then how can I deny such a sweet request?” He carefully holds your head in his bony hands, then presses his teeth to your lips. He’s so overcome by joy he jumps up, spins around, and yohohoho’s in delight.
Jinbe: Blushes and stammers. Even if you’re already in a relationship, he’s a bit shy with PDA. It may take a little begging, but he’ll do it; your smile is worth the embarrassment.
Marco: “Actually, according to my expertise…” he cups your cheek and kisses you. “You need at least three.” He kisses you two more times, then a few more, however many it takes to make you giggle.
Ace: He blushes, but laughs, pulling you in for a kiss. Poor boy tends to easily get a hard-on from prolonged kissing, so he doesn’t let it last too long if you two don’t have privacy.
Izou: To your surprise, he kisses you without any comment. Then he keeps kissing you, turning it into an impromptu make-out session. Your surrounding crewmates will definitely wolf whistle and raise a fuss that makes you embarrassed. You try to get Izou to stop, but he taunts you that you started it, you can’t back out now. Will probably use his Commander privileges to shirk duties for a bit and take you back to his room.
Thatch: “Oh, really? Well, I guess it can’t be helped,” he says, and kisses you tenderly. Even if he’s busy, he’ll stop for a quick kiss. He’s all smiles afterward, cheered up from your antics. Be careful; he might get cuteness aggression that he’ll act out later, when he has more time…
Jozu: “Hmph.” He crosses his arms.
“Hmph?” you repeat, pouting.
“Don’t give me that look. It hurts my back to bend over so far,” he explains.
You tug on his hand until he lowers it to you, then climb up his arm and perch on his massive shoulder pad. “How ‘bout now?”
“Hmph,” he says, but leans to peck your cheek. You go “yes!” and hop back down, and he smiles when you’re not looking.
Vista: Plays along without missing a beat. “Worry not, my dear,” he says, leading you by the arms in a little spin. He dances a few steps with you, then dips you back. “You’ll never go wanting with me.” He kisses you just right, not too lewd but not chaste either, the perfect balance of sweetness and desire for the perfect gentleman.
Blamenco: Chuckles and kisses you without any fuss. He always tends to give you what you want and is very laid-back.
Rakuyo: Laughs from deep in his gut, amused. He tilts up your chin, grinning, and kisses you. “All you ever need to do is ask, baby.”
Namur: (The blorbo that prompted this whole thing, has his own ficlet here.)
Blenheim: Very pleased to have been chosen for one of your silly games. He picks you up and pecks you on the lips. “Need me to kiss anywhere else?” he murmurs with a waggle of his eyebrows.
Curiel: To your surprise, he kisses your neck, open-mouthed and hot. You gasp and clutch the fabric of his coat.
“Curiel!” you whine.
“Is this not what you needed?” he teases.
Kingdew: Blushes deeply, hands held up defensively. “But I…I can’t…But you…” You keep looking expectantly, and he finally gives a swift kiss to the top of your head. “There!” He says and hurriedly leaves in a flustered mess.
Haruta: Blushing, his tone is accusatory. “What are you up to now?”
“Hurry, Haruta!”
“But—!”
“I won’t last much longer!” you insist, tugging on his puffy collar.
He grits his teeth, glancing aside. Finally he presses his lips to yours. You repress a laugh when he does; his kiss is soft and gentle, a dead giveaway to how much he likes you.
“You’re welcome, brat,” he says, crossing his arms and pretending he didn’t like it.
Atmos: He smiles wide, giggling nervously. But he picks you up and smooches your cheek. Brags about it for the rest of the week.
Jiru: Before you can even finish what you were saying, he kisses you firmly with a joyful “mwah!” He’s very good an anticipating you, from your actions to your needs.
Fossa: Surprisingly shy, but he doesn’t blush, just grunts at you. “Right here?”
“Right here, right now!” you demand, taking his cigar.
“Good grief, you’re spoiled. Alright.” He rolls his eyes and rests his hand on the back of your head, tilting it forward so he can kiss your forehead.
“That’s all yer gettin’,” he gruffs.
Sebastian makes a deal with Innovation Inc. and they’re able to make him human again, but humanity isn’t everything he hoped it would be.
~
Sebastian waved off another group of expendables, rifling through the stack of research they’d left with him. A lot of classified files–that was probably good. It had to be good, right? Knowledge was power, and this information was the only power he had when it came to negotiating with other labs.
Urbanshade couldn’t fix what they’d done to him; his own file had made that clear. But that didn’t mean it was impossible. All the other top secret research labs out there had plenty of scientists and researchers of their own, and they'd be able to find a way to make him human again. They had to be able to.
He added the new files to the waterproof crate he’d been filling. It was almost full, a solid 50 pounds of confidential Urbanshade research and samples, a tantalizing offer to any of their competitors. He hoped. It wasn’t like he had many other options but to hope, and to keep sending updates over the radio.
He was already reaching for the radio when it came to life, a message cutting through the static.
We’d like to make you an offer.
~
Since he was first taken there, Sebastian had never been more than a few hundred meters from the Hadal blacksite. The closest thing to freedom he got was working on maintenance, able to swim out in the open ocean, but with a heavy collar locked around his neck and armed guards watching his every move. He’d never had the chance to cross a large body of water, and therefore he had no idea just how fast he could be.
Every little flick and twist of his tail rocketed him forward, and it only took a few minutes for the blacksite to be entirely out of sight. The ocean was dark, the only light out here what he himself provided, and he was lugging a waterproof crate stuffed with fifty pounds of classified data and P.AI.nter’s computer mainframe, but he felt freer than he had in over a decade. For the first time since his arrest, there was no one here to guard him, to tell him what he could or couldn’t do. He could go anywhere, he could do whatever he wanted!
Just for the hell of it, he looped into something like a backflip, cutting through the water with ease. The Urbanshade guards would never have allowed it on a maintenance run, and the Hadal blacksite pools weren’t big enough to accommodate this type of movement, so he’d never gotten the chance to try it before, but it felt so natural. He couldn’t help but grin as he took a second to corkscrew through the open water. For the first time in a decade, he was in control of himself, and he was happy.
~
“I need you to hold on just a little longer, Sebastian,” the woman in the white lab coat said. Even though he knew she wasn’t one of the scientists that had done this to him, that she was helping him, he still had a hard time caring enough to remember her name.
Of course, the pain made it hard to care about much at all.
It had been painful growing to the size he was now, but as it turns out, growing bones was a lot easier than shrinking them. The chemical cocktail burning through his veins was supposed to eat away at his bones little by little, letting them shrink down to the size they were supposed to be while his reconstructed DNA worked on remembering just how big that was.
His first session, he’d grabbed the metal table hard enough to dent it while trying to ride out the pain. Now, as hard as he gripped the edge, it didn’t budge. Slowly but surely, the treatments were working.
If only they didn’t hurt twice as bad as everything Urbanshade had put him through.
It felt like days before the last of the chemical was flushed from his system, though the clock on the wall proved the whole round of treatment hadn’t even taken an hour. The woman flipped through his chart, scribbling notes with a pen.
“Good news,” she said. “As long as your body keeps responding as well as it has been, you should only have four more rounds left.”
Sebastian leaned back against the table, staring up at the ceiling light until spots danced in his eyes–just two of them, now, the third surgically removed and the cavity packed with gauze until his skull remembered it wasn’t supposed to have a third eyesocket.
“Great,” he choked out.
~
“One more step, you’ve almost got it,” the physical therapist coached. “Lead with your shoulder, let your leg follow that movement.”
Sebastian tried to do what the PT said, just like always, holding tight to the railing as he dragged his right foot forward across the floor. His legs had only grown back to size a couple weeks ago, and they were still mostly numb except for the occasional wave of pins and needles, but the scientists had been eager to get him using them again as soon as possible. Sebastian was pretty sure he was holding himself up with his arms more than he was walking, but the PT seemed happy with his progress, at least.
It felt so slow and clunky to stumble along the rails or push himself around the facility in a wheelchair after years of slithering around the Hadal blacksite faster than any human could run, but the possibility of being able to walk on his own again was tantalizingly close now. When they’d first put him on the bar setup, he hadn’t even been able to stand. Now the PT said he’d likely be able to bend his knees and lift his feet within a month.
His knees. His feet. Parts of himself he thought he’d never have again, and now here they were.
~
Sebastian Solace left the Innovation Inc lab a little over a year after he’d entered it with P.AI.nter’s computer in his arms and a fat wad of cash in his pocket. Innovation Inc. was already seeing returns on some of the Urbanshade data he’d brought them, and he’d been well compensated for it. Innovation had helped him get set up with a new identity and an apartment in the city, and he walked out of the facility on his own two feet.
Sure, it wasn’t exactly perfect. He still had the gills that had been the point of the damn experiment in the first place, there were a few sparse patches of scales here and there that the scientists thought might not fall out, and he was still a good foot taller than he’d been before Urbanshade. No point getting hung up on that, though. He was human, and more importantly he was out. He’d be back to Innovation Inc. for a few medical check-ins, but other than that, he was done with that part of his life. He and P.AI.nter had the whole world in front of them now.
~
The apartment Sebastian moved into would barely have fit him a couple years ago, but now it was roomy. He had a bed he actually fit on, all of him and not just part of his torso, and it was soft. There was a desk in the corner where P.AI.nter’s computer sat, letting it see the whole room. He got a TV and a sofa and a table, and for the first time in over a decade he had a kitchen to cook in. Not that he had any idea what to cook, but it was nice to know it was there.
He spent the first month catching up on everything he hadn’t had since his arrest. Pizza was greasier than he remembered, but even more delicious. Fast food was more expensive, but worth every penny. He’d immediately gotten brain freeze eating ice cream for the first time in eleven years. And up here on the surface there was more than just food to be excited about. They’d made a sequel to his favorite movie, though once he tracked down a DVD of it, it wasn’t as good as the first movie had been. There were video game systems he hadn’t even heard of, whose controllers felt odd in his hands as he played.
Most importantly, the internet had come a long way. It took Sebastian a while to get the hang of it, P.AI.nter coaching him through using a phone whose touchscreen didn’t register his fingers half the time, but he found his mom, his siblings. He had a phone number for them now, an address that wasn’t the same one he remembered but was close enough to visit.
It took him a few days to work up the nerve to call, a few seconds of silence over the phone line to choke out a quiet “Mama? It’s me.” She was suspicious at first, and he couldn’t blame her, but once she came around–
He hadn’t let himself feel how much he missed her all those years, not until he heard her voice again and started sobbing.
~
Sebastian was still wary of sleeping. It felt too much like sedation for him to be comfortable with, especially in the hazy moments he was first waking up and couldn’t determine what was reality yet. Sleeping in a bed helped a little, but not enough for him to stop pushing himself to stay awake until the last moment.
When he managed to fall asleep, Sebastian dreamed of the water. There were the nightmares, of course; the suffocating feeling of breathing water before his gills were fully developed, being squeezed into a too-small tank for observation, working on wires with a heavy collar around his neck dragging him down. But those weren’t the only dreams. On lucky nights, he relived those moments after his escape, weightless and swimming freely in open water that went on forever. His body spiraled and turned on a dime with the slightest thought, his tail twisting and rippling gracefully behind him, the darkness broken only by the faint light from his eyes and his lure.
He woke up with the taste of saltwater in the back of his throat to a set of clunky legs that tripped over air and for a split second, he was disappointed. But this was what he had wanted. This was what he had asked for.
~
The city was noisy and bustling. More people lived here than Sebastian had seen at the Hadal blacksite in ten years, every one of them with a life and a dream and no idea that the person walking past them with a scarf wrapped carefully around his neck had ever been a monster. It was overwhelming to go from near-isolation to society.
He got weird looks sometimes. He walked slowly and carefully, still trying to get the hang of legs again, more like an old man than one who was thirty. He flinched at loud noises and shot to attention at flickering lights. He wore clothes that were out of style, he didn’t know technology or pop culture.
Sometimes he bitterly wondered whether people would have even stared at him any more if he was still a sixty-foot sea monster. He may have looked the part of a human, but he clearly didn’t do a good job acting it anymore.
P.AI.nter tried to reassure him that he was just out of practice, that he would get the hang of being around people again eventually. Sebastian hoped it was right.
~
Sebastian leaned out the window of his apartment, elbows resting on the sill, cigarette between his teeth. There were some things about being back on the surface that he vowed to never take for granted, and easy access to cigarettes was one of them. He sucked in a lungful of smoke and then exhaled it, watching it drift lazily away on a slight breeze.
The apartment was close to the shore, and the window overlooked the beach. It wasn’t one of those sandy, idyllic beaches where parents took their children. The waves crashed down on a sharp minefield of rocks, wearing them down too slowly to dull their sharp edges.
Sebastian had crawled up that beach, rocks scraping his scales, claws digging for purchase to pull him out of the water. He breathed in more warm smoke and remembered the chill of the ocean depths. He shifted his weight on his feet and remembered his tail coiled under him.
“You’ve got that look on your face again,” P.AI.nter said. “You can’t seriously be missing the blacksite. That place was the worst.”
“I’m not missing it,” Sebastian said, taking another long draw of his cigarette.
“This is everything we used to talk about!” P.AI.nter said. “We’re both free, you’re human again, and I get to draw instead of mining Roblux. All our dreams came true!”
Sebastian nodded in agreement. He remembered those conversations, long hours spent reminiscing about the surface world and talking about what they would do if they ever made it back. Somehow, through all those hours of talking, he had never stopped to think about what it would actually feel like to be there.
He ground the cigarette out on the windowsill even though it was only half burned. He felt entirely too warm even without the smoke.
sorry if it's short!! i had a lot of fun writing this tho
requests are still open!!!
you know the drill! this is strictly about the characters!!! this is NOT directed at the content creators at all.
pairings: c!karlnapity
warnings: none, just cuddles :]
--
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Karl and Sapnap were already in bed by the time Quackity got home. They had fallen into their respective spots on the bed, Sapnap on the left, Karl on the right, and an empty spot for Quackity in the middle.
Karl was wearing his regular hoodie. He had swapped out his jeans for a pair of sweatpants. Sapnap was wearing his classic fire emblem shirt with athletic shorts and Quackity had on a navy blue shirt and black tight fit sweatpants.
"You're home?" Karl mumbled. He was almost half asleep, Quackity could tell just by his voice.
"Yes, I'm home." Quackity smiled.
"Yaaay." Sapnap said lazily. Quackity giggled softly.
This was the best part of his day. His work was long and grueling, draining most of his physical strength. The sun was constantly beating on his back and harvesting materials was hard both above and underground. But being able to come home to his fiance's made it all a little better. The work seemed like it had purpose.
Quackity climbed into bed, Karl immediately latching onto him. Sapnap turned around to wrap his arms around his waist. Quackity buried his head into Karl's chest as Sapnap rested his chin on Quackity's shoulder. Karl giggled softly at the physical contact from his fiance's.
"You're so silly, Karl." Sapnap said.
Quackity nodded in agreement. "So silly."
Karl giggled a little harder. "The silliest one here."
"No, I might win that one." Sapnap said, smiling.
Karl and Quackity giggled.
"You might," Quackity said. His voice was trailing off, his words slurring and his eyelids becoming droopy.
Karl noticed this.
"Are you tired? Long day at work?" He asked.
Quackity nodded sleepily.
"Mmh." Karl hummed. He began messing with Quackity's hair, softly twisting it and brushing it with his fingers.
Quackity laughed quietly. "Stooop, I'm gonna fall asleep."
Karl smiled. "Well isn't that the point?"
Quackity huffed in faux annoyance.
Sapnap began drawing swirls and shapes on Quackity's shoulder. "Oh come on, you know you love us."
"How could I not." Quackity said.
He fell asleep a few minutes later, his fingers intertwined with Sapnap's and Karl's hand in his hair. They fell asleep soon after, their thoughts slowly fading into sleep.
They truly cared for each other. Karl and Sapnap worried for Quackity at work, and were always relieved when he came home without injuries. They would give him massages when he pulled his muscles and make him dinner on particularly long days. They would watch each other's favourite movies on days when one of them was upset. They would go out together and do things they knew the others would like.
It was a nice balance they easily managed to keep in check.
Tear them all to pieces and show them the true meaning of fear.
Where was this stupid voice coming from? And why wouldn't it leave him alone? Thing clutched at his hair, ready to tear a fistul out.
Do it.
The voice got louder and louder. The poor young man didn't know what was happening, but that wretched voice seemed to surround him, getting more and more frequent and forceful. He couldn't help but start to shake, as the tears started to stain his facemask.
"Stop it! Stop it! Leave me alone! PLEASE!"
Thing's voice was shaking now, he was clutching at himself, hyperventilating and sobbing. Everyone had taken notice by this point, approaching Thing with concern and empathy. Thermometer could easily overpower thing if he was quick enough, he just needed to proceed with caution. The redhead adjusted his glasses, and shakily let out a sharp breath, putting a hand on the co-host's shoulder, and he asked, "Thing?"
It was barely a second before the smaller young man spun around and grabbed the taller guy by his jaw. Before Thermometer could even say anything, before anyone could step in, Thing pulled with incredible force, and a wet ripping sound echoed throughout the field.Silence. Cursed, deafening silence. The redheaded boy felt for his lower jaw, but he only felt dampness... As his pale hands were now covered in the unmistakable substance. Blood. Everyone else finally realized what had transpired, and that silence was broken with screams of panic.
"THERMOMETER!"
"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!"
"OH MY GOD, NO!"
Thermometer couldn't even scream. It was drowned out by a sickening gurgling noise,and tears were starting to mix with the blood.He fell to the ground with a resounding thud. Everyone was now crowded around him, panicking and some even crying. Ruler dug around in his backpack, looking for his first aid kit. Speech Bubble had his sunglasses over his eyes, trying to use them to hide his tears. Picture Frame dragged Magic Wand over, demanding he fix Thermometer's Jaw immediately. It was a few silent minutes, before Thermometer's face looked normal again. Magic Wand sighed, as he snapped his fingers. Everyone, save Thing and himself, fell to the ground with a thud.
"Did you..." Thing asked, still staring at the blood on his fingers.
"Yeah. " Magic Wand bluntly responded. "They're not going to remember this. Consider this a warning." Magic Wand's voice sounded a little strained, and his eyes seemed damp. He furiously adjusted his hat and stormed off, leaving the tall man surrounded by the unconscious contestants.
Garrus had survived the apocalypse, yet the moment he stepped off the Normandy to look up and see a fleet of batarian ships descending upon them, he knew that he was about to die.
The krogan had found them, and they were angry. Moreover, their anger was justified.
As quarians around him began to realize that their skies were dotted with enemy ships, he heard cries of horror and terror. A small body pushed past him and began to issue orders so authoritatively that it took him a moment to realize that it was Tali.
“Victus, get the Council onto the Shellen . Koris, show them to the captain’s quarters and bring guards with you. James, get everyone suited up and meet us back here. Kal, get all of our soldiers equipped but keelah do not let them shoot until I say so , is that clear? We make our stand here, where we have cover.”
In that moment, Garrus saw clearly a fact that he had often forgotten: Tali’Zorah was an Admiral of the Migrant Fleet, and for a damn good reason.
With everyone given direction they parted, each of them feeling better about the terrifying moment now that they had purpose. As soon as they were out of sight, Tali’s shoulders slumped and she turned to Garrus. The Admiral’s mask -- that she had likely learned from Shepard’s Commander’s mask -- faltered, and he could see in the harsh set of her shoulders, her clenched fists, and her rapid breaths that she was terrified, too.
And that sight gave him a moment of clarity.
(Read the rest of the LAST CHAPTER OF THIS FIC I’VE BEEN WORKING ON SINCE FUCKING 2014 over on AO3.)
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
-
“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.
'Playfully Begging for a Kiss' Headcanons - Kid Pirates, Marines
Ao3 Link
“Help!” You shout, running over and collapsing into their arms. “It’s critical! Quickly! I need…a kiss!”
Kid: It’s a 50-50 on whether he’ll blush, depending on how off guard you caught him. (He’s confident, but there’s just something about you that makes him second-guess himself.) If he’s blushing, he’s more reluctant—he’ll still kiss you, but it will be more chaste and quick. He’ll probably get mad at himself for hesitating, and then pull you into a second, more intent kiss. But if he’s drinking, celebrating, or in otherwise high spirits from the start, he’ll hold you possessively and kiss you with tongue, an open-mouthed, assertive and claiming kiss.
Killer: “Eh?” Tilts his mask down at you. “A kiss?”
“Mhm. And quick, before I lose consciousness…”
“We certainly can’t have that,” he says, his tone amused.
He leans down and touches his mask to your face. You smooch his mask where his lips would be.
Killer’s powerful arms tighten around you fondly, and he stays like that for a second, enjoying the closeness.
(Only in the privacy of his own room, when you’re alone, would the mask come off.)
Wire: Secretly elated that you chose him, but he plays it off cool. “You’re dying, huh?”
“That’s right!” You place your palm to your head. “Oh, the agony! The misery!”
Wire grins. “Beg me for it.”
“Pleeaase,” you beg, batting your eyelashes. “Pretty please, Wire?”
“That’s my good Y/n,” he says, rewarding you with a heated kiss.
Heat: “Um…You want it now?” he hesitates, much more shy than most of his crewmates.
“I need it now! I’ll die! I’ll wither!” you curl your fingers through the strings of his corset and tug slightly. “It has to be from a handsome man with tattoos and sky-blue hair.”
“That’s really specific…”
“Ack! It’s happening! I’m dying!” You rest all your weight in his arms, groaning and moaning in pain. “Ohh… Need kisses… Won’t last…”
“Okay, okay.” He leans in to kiss you, but in his nervousness misses your lips, pecking your nose.
You giggle, grabbing his face and pulling him in for a proper kiss.
“Thanks, Heat!” you singsong, slipping out of his arms and skipping away.
The kiss has stunned him in place, feeling his lips as he watches you disappear.
Koby: “W-W-What?” he says, a blush lighting up his face. He’s holding you securely, but inwardly panicking because you’re in his arms.
“I need a kiss or I’ll die,” you reiterate, wrapping your arms around his neck. He reacts from head to toe, going stiff and wide-eyed in alarm.
He’s the one who is going to die, he thinks. “You’re—you’re not—but I!” he stammers.
“The sea is fading…I see a light…” You sag in his arms, closing your eyes.
“Y/n! D-Don’t do this to me! Hey!” he shouts. “I, I…!”
“If only I was so loved as to be kissed…” you murmur weakly.
IF no one else is around, that’s enough to do him in. Overcome with guilt at the idea you may not feel loved—so long as you keep your eyes closed—he’ll give you a very fast peck on the cheek, very close to the corner of your mouth like he wanted to kiss your lips but chickened out at the last second. Then he’ll very carefully let you go so you support yourself, making sure you’re steady, before he runs in the opposite direction, steam coming off his head. He will not be able to look you in the eye for at least a week or two.
Smoker: Looks down at you. The change in his expression is very subtle, just the slightest tilt of his brow, but you can tell he’s amused.
“Don’t I give you enough attention as it is?” he says.
“…No?” You say, giving him a look. “Obviously not.”
“Then I guess I’m a bad partner.”
“You might be, if you don’t kiss me,” you smile.
He rolls his eyes, but when he kisses you it’s with a hand gently cradling the back of your head, his other hands holding his cigars away from your body.
Doll: “Hm…I dunno,” she says. “Coming off a little desperate.”
“Of course I’m desperate! It’s a matter of life and death!” you insist.
“Oh, really?”
“Really! My head will explode! My guts will be everywhere! It’ll be horrible! Unless a beautiful woman kisses me!”
That makes her crack a smile. She glances aside. “Alright, alright. Come here.”
Doll kisses you only briefly, but it’s one that warm with her affection.
X Drake: His fight-or-flight response is triggered, and he freezes. The blush starts from his chest and goes up. He doesn’t say anything, and you peek an eye open. Clearing your throat, you repeat yourself.
“If someone doesn’t kiss me, I’ll die! Terribly! Horridly!”
“But,” X Drake finally says. “But. But…”
“You’re the only one who can save me, Drake!” you say dramatically.
He swallows, looking genuinely terrified by the prospect. “I, I mean… Um…”
You’ve never seen him so out of his depth, but you’re determined to try and wrangle a kiss from him.
“I need it… It’s gotta be you,” you say, looking up at him with those soul-piercing eyes. “I need you.”
He nearly passes out, his face beet red and eyes glazed over. When he gets his wits about him, he’ll run away with a hurried apology of “I’m sorry…I can’t!” over his shoulder.
Rosinante: Stares at you open-mouthed. You approached him in his own room, so the two of you are alone. You know him well enough to assume he’d never kiss you in front of the Family.
He leans you on one arm to support you, and with his other arm free, takes out his notepad, resting it on top of your head. You’re the perfect height to use as a table, it seems.
“Hey,” you protest.
He scribbles, which feels funny on your head, then holds the notepad out for you to see.
‘What.’
“You heard me.” You loll your head back against the crook of his elbow like supporting yourself suddenly got impossible. “I have a disease where if I don’t get a kiss in the next ten seconds, I’ll wither away.”
He’s quiet. You can spot the faintest blush creeping up his cheeks. You start counting down. When you get below five, you close your eyes.
“Three…two…one.” You say. You can feel Rosinante moving, and your breath holds in your lungs. Will he really…?
Softly, so softly and carefully, he presses his lips to yours. It feels like magic, ebbing between your lips. It lasts for a glorious few moments, and then it’s over.
He’s looking away when you open your eyes. He gently pulls away his support, turning away. He won’t write to you for the rest of the night, withdrawing into himself, but he will hold your hand for as long as you two still have privacy.
Aokiji/Kuzan: “My, my,” he says. “I’ll never get my paperwork done with such a distraction.”
“You’d rather do paperwork than kiss me?” you tease, knowing the answer.
“If I kiss you, I won’t have it in me to face the paperwork again.” He touches your cheek with the crook of his finger, tracing down to your lips. “Kissing you isn’t motivating…It’s all-consuming.”
“So that’s a no?” you say, looking as disappointed as you can.
“Hmm…You’re a bad influence, you know?” he says, angling you so he can kiss you properly.
Naturally he doesn’t do any more paperwork for the day, just makes out with you in his office. If he’s not feeling too lazy he might even fuck you there, but most of the time he’ll just pull you down for a nap with him.
Kizaru/Borsalino: “Ohh?” he says, tilting his head. “Now what’s this about?”
“It’s about…my impending death,” you say weakly. “Only a kiss can keep me alive…Hurry…”
“Ah, I see.” He takes off his glasses, pausing to wipe them when he notices a smudge. Then he puts them back on, looks down at you, remembers what he was doing, and takes off his glasses again.
“You took too long. I’m dead now,” you say, sticking your tongue out. “Bleh…”
“Well, that’s a shame. I can’t kiss a corpse, now can I?” He tries to set you down, but you lean your weight into him so he can’t without dropping you.
“I changed my mind. I’m alive,” you say quickly.
“That’s what I figured,” he says, and kisses you.
Akainu/Sakazuki: He’ll actually do it without much fuss if the two of you are alone. The harsh lines of his face will soften when he looks down at you, a subtle show of adoration. You’ll be on his mind the rest of the day. Be warned; he’s the type to react more so in bed, recalling how cute and perfect you were with increasing force behind his movements.
Fujitora/Isshou: He chuckles, wondering why he’s still surprised by your antics, but delighted that he is so.
“My,” he says, looking down at you fondly. “What an honor to be chosen for such an important mission.” He feels for your cheek with one hand, guiding himself down. For a moment he just pauses in front of your lips, fingers grazing the skin of your face like he’s committing it to memory. Then he kisses you sweetly.
Isshou is one of the few Marines who gives no fucks about doing this in front of people. He’ll kiss you in front of Sakazuki. He doesn’t care, he’d much rather enjoy kissing you than keeping decorum.
CW: fluff and smut, isekai, explicit NSF.W content, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, breast play, ghost sex, consensual possession
Summary: Shortly after your isekai, you ate the ghost-ghost fruit, letting you interact with the ghosts of the world and subsequently meeting Roger. He's roped you into some mission to help ghosts stuck in the mortal plane find peace. But it's been a long and grueling journey, and you just want some time to yourself to relax and unwind. When Roger checks on you and finds you wanting and needy, he decides to take some responsibility and help you out.
Ao3 Link
Your isekai was rocky.
For one thing, your inciting death was a suicide. For another, you didn’t know anything about the world you were in.
Shortly after you had woken up, you found a fruit. You were mid-bite when Blackbeard and his crew showed up. The fruit didn’t even taste good, but you were so shocked by the appearance of the giant men that you choked and swallowed the mouthful you had taken.
If Roger hadn’t appeared when he did, guiding you to a hiding spot, you would have died.
It was while you were hiding there, terrified and confused, that he chose to reveal that he was a ghost, and that you could see him because of that stupid fruit.
Apparently, you could now see all the ghosts of the world. Not only that, but ghosts could possess your body, fighting with a fraction of their former strength.
You didn’t believe Roger, nor his claims that he used to be a big deal, until he took possession of your body and defeated the Blackbeard pirates.
The days afterward were some of the scariest of your life as you confronted the new world you were in, but you had survived thanks to Roger. Really, all of the ghosts in your group helped you one way or another: Thatch instructed you through cooking nutritious meals, Rosinante and Bell-mere’s survival skills were invaluable, and Yorki’s music kept your spirits up.
Aside from Roger, the other ghosts came and went as they pleased. They had the ability to roam the world, of course. But most of the time, they merely attached themselves to you and went into some kind of torpor, essentially sleeping until they were called upon. Roger preferred to be “out” all of the time. It seemed he felt responsible for you—and rightfully so, since he was the one who roped you into this mess.
Roger wanted you to help the ghosts of this world. A great number of them were stuck to the mortal plane. For decades, they waited for the ghost-ghost fruit to be eaten. That way, a living being could bring them closure, and thus, let them move on to the afterlife.
You weren’t exactly happy to be handed such a big responsibility, especially freshly out of a mental health crisis, but you didn’t have much of a choice. You ate the fruit. It was in your hands now. You were reluctant, but Roger believed in your ability. For some reason, you wanted to prove him right.
The way he looked at you when you completed your first mission was burned into your memory. The ghost you helped was a Marine who was accidentally killed by a fellow soldier in the heat of a firefight. He was bound to the world by the depth of his desire to tell that soldier he forgave him. Once you delivered the message, the ghost passed on, bursting into beads of light that scattered like fireflies. The light reflected off you and Roger, dancing in his eyes, his grin wider than you’ve ever seen it.
“You did it, kid.”
You wanted to hear him say that again. It was one of the few things that kept you going, even when things were scary. And you were never alone. The journey was perilous at times, but the ghosts were only a call away. And Roger was always there for you, even if he caused more trouble than necessary.
Yes, Roger was always there. When you were in danger, when you were safe, when you were happy, when you were sad. Whether you wanted him there or not.
Now was one of those “or not” times.
It had been a few weeks since you last had some quality alone time. The room you rented at the local inn was clean and the bed inviting, a nice change from camping. You had just finished several days of travel, you were pent up, and you wanted to masturbate and go to sleep early. It wasn’t the first time you told Roger to fuck off for a few hours, and as usual he was giving you a hard time—batting his eyelashes with an “Ohh? What are you gonna do when you’re all alooone?”
After some more teasing, he finally gave you your space, disappearing through the wall.
You took your time getting undressed, wanting to be sure he was gone. Then you stretched, taking deep, slow breaths to unwind. Finally, you got in bed, enjoying the feeling of the clean sheets on your skin. You closed your eyes and ran your hands over your body, wondering what to think of.
Easy access to pornographic material wasn’t really a thing in this world. Or, at least, not on this island. Not that you generally needed it, but the adventure had been stressful so far, and stress made it harder for you to focus on your imagination. There was a bounty on your head, so you were anxious most of the time, even after Rosinante had scoped the place out and deemed it safe.
Besides, Roger was probably nearby, and you could always call on another ghost if you needed immediate help.
With that thought in mind, you started to let your hands wander. You warmed up with just feeling your body, light touches on your breasts, not teasing anything yet. Last time you tried to masturbate, you hadn’t really been able to finish. You just weren’t able to keep a sexy thought in mind. Which was ironic, considering you were surrounded by attractive people. Well, ghosts. The ones you traveled with were beautiful, if you could get past the haunting scars that marked how they died.
To be honest, the scars didn’t bother you. It was more so the thought that you would have to interact with them later on, knowing you had masturbated to the thought of them. Maybe you were just too shy to bother. But there wasn’t anyone else you could really bring to mind, so you guessed it would have to do.
Your hand goes between your legs, and you cup your sex, thinking about who to think about. Rosinante, Roger, Thatch, Bell-mere, Roger, Yorki…
Your brain turns to Roger again, and you frown. Roger got on your nerves more than any of them, but you couldn’t deny that he was handsome, in a wild sort of way. Still, you didn’t want to think about him like that—you spent the most time with him, after all.
You try to bring Thatch to mind as your fingers find the base of your clit and start rubbing. He was built, corded arms that flexed when he guided your hands. What would kissing him be like? Would he tip you back like a gentleman? Would he be chaste or passionate? You try to imagine it. You would stand on your tiptoes, and Roger would have to bend down far—wait, no. Not Roger.
Damn it, why couldn’t you keep him out of your mind? You already knew, deep down, that you were growing fonder of Roger than you were really comfortable with. The last thing you needed was to catch feelings. Wait. Shit. Were you catching feelings?
Nope, not thinking about that right now. Now is for jacking off.
So you try to push him out of your mind, bringing back Thatch. Or maybe Yorki, with his skilled fingers.
You rub in circles and clench, and try.
You try and try and try.
You’re practically forcing thoughts of Thatch in your mind. But it doesn’t work. He’s quickly replaced with Roger in your imagination. Any sensation of pleasure stagnates when Roger’s not on the mind and returns when he is, leaving you frustrated. If you don’t orgasm tonight, you aren’t going to get the chance again for potentially weeks.
After a while, you give up. You concede to your brain. Fine. If thinking about Roger was what it took for you to cum, then so be it. As long as you could orgasm, you didn’t care anymore.
Maddeningly, you start making progress, finally feeling some lasting pleasure. It was easy to picture his massive hands groping and squeezing your body, and it kind of pissed you off, but at least you could bring yourself relief tonight.
You lean into the thoughts. He’s so big. You really like that about him, though you’ll never admit it. It made you feel safe, and it was one of your, well, biggest kinks. Your hips lifted into your hand, imagining him fingering you with those massive hands. Imagining him easing into you with that giant dick…
“Just like that,” you mumble, “Roger…”
It’s building. You’re close.
And then, you think about him kissing you. You think about how the kiss is warm and loving. Immediately you lose all sensation, withering away as fear corners your heart. The thought that he didn’t like you that way completely killed your libido. What were you thinking? He wasn’t even alive. What were you doing, getting a crush this bad?
You sigh heavily, defeated. It just isn’t happening tonight.
“Need a little help?” Roger’s voice sounds above you.
You scream and chuck a pillow at him. It sails through his body harmlessly, as usual.
“When will you learn that doesn’t work?” he asks.
“Roger! What the fuck?!” you shout.
“Relax, I haven’t been watching you. Not for long, anyway.”
“You are such an asshole!” you grumble, pulling the sheets up to your chin. “What the fuck is your problem?”
He laughs like he always does, booming and carefree. “Relax. I just got back.”
“I told you to leave me alone for a while.”
“It’s been two hours.”
“What, really?” you groan. You had been trying for that long?
Roger floats onto his side, laying down with his head propped up in one hand. “I couldn’t help but notice that you were having some issues.”
“Shut up, you.” You do not want to talk about it.
“No wonder you’re such a grump all the time.”
“Oh, sure,” you say sarcastically. “The fate of the world’s ghosts? No big deal! It’s not getting to cum that’s gotten my panties in a twist. Thank you for the insight, Roger.”
“Hey, frustration is no joke,” Roger argues. “It’s driven grander men to do desperate things.”
“Like snoop on their friend’s private time?”
Roger giggles. Actually “tee-hee’s”. You let your head flop back into the pillow in defeat.
“Whatever,” you say. “It doesn’t matter. Clearly this is not going to happen for me, so I guess you can stay.”
“Aw, come on. Don’t give up so easily.”
“I’m not wasting my energy convincing you to leave again.”
“Who said I have to leave?” he says. “I offered my help, didn’t I?”
“You were serious?” You look up at him with a brow arched in disbelief. Ghosts could not interact with the material world, of course. But thanks to your devil fruit, they could interact with you physically, and vice versa. Still… “I didn’t know you could—are you telling me you get sexual urges?”
“Does a bear shit in the woods?” he asks, making your lip twitch at the corner. “Did you think I went decades without jerking off?”
“Oh my god.” You turn your head away so he doesn’t see you fighting not to smile.
“What? Technically, I’ve already been inside you.”
“Stop,” you said, trying and failing not to laugh.
He rolls onto his front. “You have a cute laugh.”
“Stop that. No I don’t.”
“You do.”
“You’re just trying to butter me up,” you look at him pointedly. His massive body is hovering over yours now.
“Maybe a little.” He touches under your chin. “It is cute, though.”
“Get away from me, pervert,” you say, pushing at his hand, but you can’t keep the giggle out of your voice.
Roger flashes a pleased grin at you. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
Realizing he’s serious, your smile fades. For a second, you find yourself actually considering his offer. Then you shake your head. You don’t want to sleep with him just because. The last thing you needed was for him to think you were easy. “You’re just offering to end your dry spell. You’re not into me—you’re desperate.”
“Don’t underestimate me. I can be into you and desperate.” He winks, and your face flushes hot. “Do you think I’d have followed you around this long if I thought you were boring? You’re brave, for a weak little shrimp. You’re thoughtful. You’re fun to hang out with. I’d love to have some fun with you.”
It feels like your cheeks are burning. You can hear the blood rushing in your ears. You cover your mouth with one hand and glance to the side. He liked you that much?
“What? Don’t tell me you’re shy.”
“I’m not shy!” You snap, pointing at him in emphasis. “I’m debating if ghosts can transmit diseases.”
“Hey! I was clean!”
“We both know that’s not true.”
“Come here, you!” He grabs the sides of your head and you shriek in surprise, smacking at his huge arms.
“Roger!” you laugh. “Let go!”
“No, I’m going to infect you with one of my diseases!” He leans his head down and sticks out his tongue, threatening to lick your cheek. “Blehhh…”
“No, no!” you yell, giggling and squirming. “Don’t!”
But he doesn’t stop until he’s dragged the flat of his tongue across your entire cheek. The feeling pulls a small moan from you before you can stop it. You both freeze.
“Ooh—“
“No—”
“—did you like that?” Roger teases, letting go of you.
“No!” You push at his face, but he simply turns his head and takes two of your fingers in his mouth. You feel his tongue curl between your fingers, sending prickles down your spine to your clit.
You freeze a second too long. He grins when you don’t immediately pull your hand away, taking it upon himself to release your fingers.
“I think you liked that, too,” he says.
“I think you’re a whore,” you reply, clutching your violated fingers.
“I could be your whore,” he promises so silkily you’re caught off guard. He reaches to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing the damp spot where he licked. “Just think of the experience under my belt.” He glances down at his crotch, then up at you, and smirks.
Your face burns to your ears.
“Aren’t you even a little curious?” he leans into your ear, whispering. “What it’s like to fuck the pirate king?”
“I…I…” you stutter, panicking a little. You’ve never been hit on like this in your life. “Roger?”
“What do you need?” he whispers huskily, making you clench your thighs together.
“Can you, um, can you…um…” You trail off, unable to string together a coherent thought but feeling like you’re going to melt on the spot.
“You are shy, aren’t you?” Roger looks smug, but then he chuckles. “I knew it.”
“I’m not!” you protest. “I’m just…I’m just…”
“You’re just what?”
“Okay, fine! I’m shy! Geez!” You cover your face. “I haven’t had a ton of partners. Before I met you, I wasn’t really in a good head space to be dating…so it’s been a while.”
“So what I’m hearing is, you’re extra pent up?” He tsks. “Poor thing.”
“Roger, stop,” you whine into your hands. “It’s too much.”
“It won’t be,” he promises. “Let me take care of you. I can make you feel good. I owe you that much. Don’t I?” He touches your shoulder, prompting you to look up at him. “Don’t I?”
“Yeah,” you agree timidly.
Roger smiles. You’re so flustered he wants to just eat you up, but he’s patient. He touches under your chin again. “I’m going to kiss you first. Think you can handle that?”
“I…I think so?”
He grins at your honesty, tilting your head up and leaning down to press his lips to yours.
It feels no different than kissing a living person. There’s still wetness, softness, resistance. You let him take the lead, giving back what he gives you. He starts slow, his first few kisses chaste, and you return the same. Then his tongue traces your lip, so your tongue pokes out to trace his. Your next kiss has your tongues sliding against each other.
“Mmm,” Roger purrs between kisses. “You’re tense. Relax, baby.”
“What did you call me?” you accuse him softly.
“It fits you,” he says, kissing you again. “You’re so little.”
“M’not. You,” You try to protest, but he keeps stealing your breath away with kisses. “You’re huge.”
“You know where else I’m huge? Here,” Roger’s large hands envelope your breasts, squeezing firmly.
You moan softly. “Oh, fuck.”
“And here,” he presses his bulging crotch against your leg, grinding it against you. “Feel that? That’s all for you.”
You’re too flustered to respond, but the way you bite your lip goes right to his head. Roger makes out with you while grinding against your leg, his thick thigh coming up to spread yours, pressing snugly into your vulva. His hands grope and squeeze your breasts, palms rubbing your perked nipples, and your clit throbs so fast and quick you’re moaning into his mouth to slow down.
“I’m gonna cum, Roger,” you gasp.
“I want you to, I want you to cum on my thigh, you need just a little more, don’t you?” He encourages, not pressing any harder or faster, but keeping his pace steady. You can only whimper as it builds rapidly. “You’re so close already, you needed this so much, just let yourself go for me.”
You shut your eyes as the pleasure between your legs seems to burst, orgasm throbbing in your sensitive flesh. A small cry is all you can manage, but he picks up on it immediately.
“There you go, good, just like that,” he murmurs, voice seeming to dance in between the waves of pleasure, dragging you deeper into the throes. You grab onto his arms, shuddering and panting, waiting for the intensity to wane. Roger stills, giving you time to come down.
After a while, you breathe deeply, letting out a very relaxed sigh. “I can’t believe you didn’t tease me about cumming so soon.”
“I was going to,” he assures you, “but you looked so good cumming on my thigh, I didn’t want you to focus on anything else.”
You wrinkle your nose in disbelief. “No one looks good when they orgasm.”
“I beg to differ,” Roger says, “you look beautiful when you orgasm.”
You look away in embarrassment, but he turns you back to face him, not letting you hide. “I’d like to see it again, so why don’t you pull back the blanket for me?”
Roger couldn’t interact with the physical world, but he could interact with you. That meant he couldn’t really rest on the bed the way you could, he just floated through things, including the blanket. So he didn’t really need you to pull it back—that was more so for your comfort.
You pull down the blanket and kick it off the bed. “Okay, big guy. What did you have in mind?”
“Okay, get this: A little more making out, a little more touching and tasting. Then, I possess you.”
“Excuse me?” The only time Roger possessed you was to fight. (One time you made the mistake of letting him use your body to eat, after he begged you to let him taste something again. He ate so much you ended up sick.)
“Think about it! When we’re together, I feel what you do! I would know exactly how to take care of you.” He looks up in thought, a pleased smirk on his face as if imagining the possibilities.
“You’re the most perverted man I’ve ever met.”
“Says the one who fucked a ghost.” Roger shot back. When you tried to protest, he interjected, “you came! It counts!”
“Okay, seriously—are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask. Whenever Roger fought in your body, you were extremely sore for a while after, since he couldn’t help overexerting you, even at a fraction of his old strength. Though lately, it seemed like you were recovering faster and faster, but it still worried you.
“This isn’t a fight, I don’t need to go off like that. I swear I’ll be gentle,” he promises.
“Okay…but you have to tell me before you do it. And wait for me to say okay.”
“Of course, baby.”
You stick out your tongue at him at the pet name, he immediately seizes his chance to lick your tongue, wrapping his arms around your upper body as he pulls you into making out with him. His body covers yours, shielding you from the chill. Ghosts normally felt cool against your skin. Roger seemed to be the exception, a very faint warmth emitting from his body. You chalked it up to the strength of his spirit, but you couldn’t be sure.
His hands roam your body, squeezing your breasts, thighs, ass, everywhere as they wander. He starts to kiss your jaw, making his way back to the tender spot beneath your ear.
“No marks,” you tell him.
He complies, easing up on his kisses, licking the spot more so than suckling, but it’s still enough to feel good and tingly on your skin. When he bites your neck, it’s gentle and just enough to make you moan softly.
“Touch me more, Roger,” you plead.
“As you wish,” he whispers into your ear, one of his big hands finding your clit. One large finger presses just above the base before gently lowering down to the hood, a light pressure against your swollen nub. He starts to rub softly. “How is this?”
“Just a tiny bit firmer,” you instruct, one hand going to guide his into a rhythm you like. He follows the pace you set, working pleasure into you once more. “Yeah, that’s good, that’s real good.”
You press your head back into the pillow, hands teasing your nipples as Roger nibbles your earlobe.
“It’s hot when you play with yourself,” he whispers. “I can’t wait to see what it feels like for you.”
“Why don’t you find out?” you say. “Go ahead. Take me.”
“Possess you?” He checks, making sure.
“Yeah.”
Roger grins and kisses you. Then he pushes forward, into your body. The feeling is like getting a warm IV, heat filling your blood in an instant. Then your consciousness gets heavy, almost like you’re sleepy.
The first several times Roger possessed you, you lost consciousness entirely. After some practice, you learned to stay present, though you still often chose to “sleep” so as not to experience the violence of battle.
So it took a little concentration for you. There was an intense, powerful sensation brimming out from your soul, impossible to describe. Like someone had turned up the gravity, but coming from inside of you and emanating outward.
“Oh,” Roger says in your head. “Oh, wow. What the heck is this feeling? I feel like I’m in my teens again, I’m so horny.”
“I’m ovulating,” you explain. ”It happens every month.”
”So that’s why I feel like getting bred like a sow.”
”Roger, focus.”
“Oh, I’m focused alright. Give me a minute while I figure this out—WOAH sensitive!”
He tried to grab your clit between your thumb and forefinger and it was far too intense. The sensation is a bit dimmed for you, so you’re okay, but you laugh smugly. “I warned you.”
”That’s my fault for assuming. I’m just gonna do it the way you made me do it.,” he says, starting to rub over it at a reasonable pace.
It was the strangest sensation. You could distantly feel your body move, you could feel most of the pleasure, but there was a degree of separation you couldn’t put in words.
Roger took his time figuring out your body. He experimented with different angles and pressures and speeds for the sake of his own curiosity, eventually returning to mimicking your earlier pace. He brought your other hand to flick and tease your nipples, learning what felt best there, too.
The pleasure he worked up in you rapidly grew as he skillfully deduced your body, until you felt it coursing through you even with the slight dimming effect present.
”To think, how much pleasure such a little body can feel,” Roger muses, eyes closing as he rubs. ”And I’m gonna make it even better. I can’t wait to fuck you.”
”I can feel it, Roger,” you think. ”It feels so good.”
Roger reaches down with your other hand to feel your slit. You feel embarrassed when he tries to finger you. It doesn’t feel all that better than what you can do with just your clit. The discovery disappoints him, you can tell from his tone.
”Your hands are too small! This isn’t doing it. No, you need my fingers.”
With that, Roger leaves your body, the feeling like the relief of a deep sigh. You’re immediately back in your body. Everything that felt dimmed is now present and powerful, a deep need worked up inside you.
Roger’s laying over your body again, brushing his hand over your head to make sure you’re okay. Once you make eye contact, he smirks.
“I think I know what to do now,” he says.
His thumb finds your clit and rubs in perfect little circles, the pads of his fingertips brushing against your slit. Your hips buck into his waist as his first and second fingers enter you, thick digits reaching deep.
“Roger!” You cry as his fingers curl. “Duh, don’t stop!”
“How could I when you beg so nicely?” he says, his other hand teasing your breast as he fingerfucks you. “You gonna cum again?”
“I am, I am, fuck,” you bite out, grabbing his arm, feeling his tendons flexing. His rough fingertips rub against your g-spot insistently, setting every nerve between your legs alight. Your second orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave. You gasp, nails digging into Roger’s arm.
“You’re such a sensitive thing,” he croons down at you. I wonder how many times you’ll cum on my cock?”
“I don’t think I can last more than one more,” you pant earnestly.
“Oh, come on, you big baby. We can do three more easy.”
“This was supposed to be my night to relax.”
“Two more?” He holds up his first two fingers.
You laugh. “Alright, fine, two.”
He smiles like it’s his birthday. “You’re the best.”
“I’m only being nice to you because the sex is good,” you lie.
“If I make you cum hard the last two times, will you be nice to me after we have sex?”
You narrow your eyes at him, smirking. “Maybe.”
Roger laughs and peppers your face in kisses, making you giggle.
You grab his face and pull it to yours for another proper kiss. He shifts around as you kiss, pulling his pants down. From what Roger had explained to you, the clothing a ghost wore was based on how they most commonly perceived themselves when they passed. If they actually wanted to, they could appear nude. They didn’t need to touch their clothing when they removed, it, he had said, except for when they felt so alive they forgot.
Roger kicks off his bottoms, the garments disappearing the moment they stop touching him. Then he grabs his cock and presses the leaking tip to your stomach. He nips your lower lip gently.
“Please, grant me the honor of fucking your brains out,” he says politely.
“Granted,” you laugh.
He holds your hand as he guides his cock inside you, fingers interlacing with yours. The size makes your breath catch in your lungs—if he goes all the way he’ll practically be in them. You groan in satisfaction as your insides stretch taut around his length.
“You’re so wet,” he grunts. “So small and tight for me.”
The words ‘for me’ do something to your brain, making you throb between your legs. You squeeze Roger’s hand tight. “Big, you’re, you’re big.”
“I told you. It’s all for you.” He kisses you with passion, rolling his hips into yours so you cry out in pleasure. “What a good job, taking it all. Knew you could do it.”
Your other hand tangles in the sheets. He presses his hips flush to yours, humping into you methodically while he makes out with you. A light thrust, a wet kiss, a light thrust, a gentle nip, so on and so forth until your head is spinning, consumed with him inside and out.
At this slow pace, the pleasure crests and falls like a wave. In and out, surging forward with his cock pushing in deep and falling with the release of the pressure. You don’t know how long you’re fucking like that, but it feels like it lasts forever.
Eventually he does pull away, kissing down your chest to your left breast, where he takes your nipple into his mouth and just tongues it gently.
“Roger! Ah!” Your back arches into his massive upper body. “That’s! That’s!”
“I know,” he murmurs against your breast.
Whatever you were trying to say dissolves into a moan as he thumbs your clit again. Your toes curl when he mimics the rhythm from earlier. He works you up like that, pushing you further and further to the edge.
Roger releases your nipple, using his free hand to flick the swollen tip. “You want me to make you cum like this? Or do you want me to fuck you harder?”
“Fuck me harder,” you moan automatically, making him laugh.
“I knew you had it in you.” He grips your thigh firmly, pulling it against his body as he starts thrusting, holding you securely in place. His other hand cages you in, his hand next to your head.
You grab his wrist to steady yourself with one hand, the other teasing your clit. Each heavy thrust pushes you further up onto the bed, his cock spreading you open over and over. He’s merciless, bullying your g-spot without stopping, panting and groaning into your ear like a dog.
“Fuck, fuck, you are so good,” he whimpers. “Such a sweet little thing to me, letting me fuck you like this. You gonna let me cum in your little pussy?”
“Yessss,” you moan. “Oh, god, please.”
His pace stutters for just a second as he lets himself get more into it, his thrusts more aggressive now. His arms wind around your shoulders and he hugs you close, cursing and moaning. “So good to me… I’m gonna cum, I want you to cum with me.”
You’re a little surprised, but you want it, you want to reach the edge with him. But as he grunts and thrusts and takes you both closer, a familiar fear leaves tendrils clawing the back of your mind.
“You touching yourself? You gonna cum for me?” he husks into your ear.
“I can’t, Roger, I can’t,” you plead.
“Why not, baby?”
“What if I catch feelings?” you whimper.
He only pauses for a moment before smiling fondly at you. “That’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. Even if you catch feelings. No matter what, I got you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise,” he says. “So just let go. Focus on me, and let go.”
“Okay,” you say. “Okay…Okay…!” You grip him tighter as the peak comes into proverbial view, pressing your head back into the pillow. “I’m…I’m getting close…”
Roger grins proudly, hugging you just a bit tighter, fucking you like a machine.
You cum first, a brutal release that has you gasp and cry out and go still but for the jerking of your hips as you push into each of those first few waves. Roger moans in response to the feeling of your walls clenching down on him and fluttering. He can’t help picking up his pace.
“I feel you cumming—fuck, fuck, I can’t last much longer…”
But he hasn’t forgotten about your earlier deal. Roger releases his hold on you to reach down and rub your clit like—well, like he had possessed your body and found out exactly how to touch you.
“Wait!” you pant, realizing what he’s doing. “I can’t, it’s too soon!”
“You don’t have to,” Roger says. “Just feel it. Feel me.”
With the pressure off, you close your eyes and focus on his finger skillfully grinding circles on your throbbing clit, the overstimulation spilling over into a second rising, pulsing wave.
“You’re amazing, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna—“ he groans, his orgasm slamming through him as your second one bowls you over. His thrusts turn erratic, a few more jerks of his hips with each pulse.
You reach out for him. He pulls you close. The two of you hold onto each other like that for a while, panting and coming down.
“How you doing?” Roger checks in.
“Still throbbing,” you reply, a warm haze falling over you now.
“Gaban said clits orgasm for longer. Lucky…”
You giggle at his fake pout. “Hey, did you actually ejaculate? Can you do that?”
“I can and I did, I’ll have you know,” he says. “It works like clothing, it’s more mental than anything and disappears after being separated from the body.”
“So no ectoplasm jizz is in there right now?”
“Now who’s a pervert?” he says, and you both giggle. He pulls out and flops over, laying out on the bed next to your side. You scoot forward and cuddle into his huge, hairy chest.
The post-nut clarity is a bit of a big one, but you try not to think about what you just did. What did it matter? He was right, he kind of owed you after pressuring you into this mission. But still, what did it mean for you two going forward?
“Roger, I have a question.”
“Yes, baby?”
“Okay, new rule: no using that nickname outside of sex.”
“You got it, sugar tits.”
You snorted and laughed. “Shut up! I’m trying to ask a serious question!”
He holds his hands up. “Okay, okay. I’m listening.”
“We can hook up day in and day out, but like…” you motion with your hand as if trying to pull the words from the air. “We can’t exactly date.”
He blinks at you for a second. “I could take you out on a date if you wanted. It would just have to be somewhere private, because to everyone else, you would look like a lunatic kissing the air.” He makes kissy lips in demonstration.
“Okay, sure,” you giggle and shake your head, “but you know what I really mean, right?”
“I hope you’re not asking what we have between us, because I don’t have the first clue.”
You frown, but he smiles casually. “There’s never been a duo like us. I mean, the last user of the ghost-ghost fruit was alive hundreds of years ago. There’s no way of knowing what happened.”
“I guess so…” you concede.
“But I do know this.” He brushes a hand over your cheek. “When I’m with you, I truly feel alive.”
Your eyes light up. “You do?”
“We all do. That’s why the other ghosts stick around. You didn’t know that, huh?”
You shake your head, and he smiles.
“It’s all you. Not the devil fruit, but you. You feel everything so genuinely. Life glows from within you. I can feel it.”
“That’s why dangerous ghosts get drawn to me, right?” you ask. Roger had mentioned something like that before.
“That’s right. But you don’t have to worry about that. I’ll kick their asses, dead or not. You only worry about getting rest. Okay?”
“Okay.” You roll off the bed to go to the bathroom and clean up a bit before putting the cover back on the bed and getting comfortable.
“I’ll be watching over you, so don’t worry about anything,” Roger says, smiling when your eyes slowly blink and close. “You have me now.”
