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#expecting something meaner
what-if-i-was-a-book · 5 months
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Tumblr was just like "wowzer, klara made 5 posts" and is it just me or does this sound sarcastic
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shinxeysartgallery · 5 months
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If you still like jax after this last episode i think there's something fundamentally wrong with you
Y'all are WEAK
The guy known for being an absolute menace does something fucked up and y'all lose your minds. Like, what did you expect? Were you thinking he was going to suddenly become nice and be kind to everyone? lmao
Plus, Gooseworx said herself that he was going to get worse to a point he was unlikeable, so you should've expected it. Did you think she was joking?
Personally, I love him precisely because he's an absolute menace and I live for the chaos. I hope he gets worse. <3
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rubberbandballqueen · 2 years
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yesterday at work, the kids had to like, make their own puzzles by drawing stuff on paper n then cutting them into pieces n stuff, n this one kid came up to me saying that the kid sitting next to him was saying mean things, n the second kid was like, "it wasn't me, it was him!" n pointed at the creature he'd drawn for his puzzle.
i didn't really know how to handle the situation (though thinking about it, i probably should have just said that just bc the creature was saying mean things abt his friend didn't mean he was in the right for passing on those thoughts), so i just told him i didn't want to solve his puzzle if the creature it featured was gong to be so mean to other people, and for some reason it worked??
i guess it's just easy to forget how deeply children care about what adults think bc of how we as adults have learned to not care so much abt what other people think and operate on the assumption that others don't automatically care abt our thoughts.
#the worm speaks#it felt difficult to handle in the moment bc i don't want to stifle children's compulsion to explore ideas n concepts through fiction#specifically bc fiction and fantasy are very harmless spaces; but obviously what was being made was being used as a vehicle to bully others#and that was absolutely in need of correcting#and i wasn't sure how to reprimand that w/o possibly teaching kids to conflate something bad happening in fantasy#with doing bad things to others in reality#anyway thinking abt it today when making this post helped me pinpoint how to handle it next time#i.e. that kids are agents in their own right and they have the choice to pass things on to others#whether that be something kind and true like compliments; or mean and vicious like bullying; or even literal germs and disease!!#anyway the second kid actually seemed really nice once i insisted that i didn't want to do his puzzle bc it featured something mean#n like obviously i didn't want to tell kids that the things they make up are automatically reflections of the kind of person THEY are#bc that's super not true!!! but i poked abt asking him a couple questions abt it n that's how he ended up telling me 'he told me to say it'#'he lives inside of my head' n i was like 'hmm.' bc he's pretty young... first grade i think? so maybe a reflection of meaner impulses#but i'm not him! i can't say that for certain! n i don't believe in making those kinds of assumptions about people#so i guess the way i handled it was basically saying i didn't want to interact w/people who are influenced by others to be mean#i guess i'm always expecting to be working w/teenagers who'd be like 'you don't get it! i'm gonna make my own choices!'#n i'd be like 'yep sure buddy i'm not gonna stop you! but i'm setting my boundaries right here'#i have a bit of beef with how some of my coworkers treat kids-- like none of them are outright cruel i think#but i don't think some of them are being genuinely responsible with how they interact. i think it's good that they all try to be nice#n some take that to mean 'treat them like your friends!' (proceeds to gaslight kids abt whether a certain snack was available)#(n when the kids called them out they were like 'we're teaching kids to think for themselves! n to be confident in their own experiences')#like. i don't think that picking out the snacks you like before feeding the kids is right. we are not kings; we are caretakers#n like i can see how that can be kind of a joke one might make in certain flavors of friend groups but like. certainly not to a child.#one plays obvious favorites; others place restrictions w/o explaining why they're there (bc they're obvious to adults)#n tbh i'm probably a headache myself bc i'm ~probably~ enabling kids in some way so i'm not gonna condemn the ones who#tell kids 'no you can't do that' w/o much explanation. n i think for the most part they're all trying#but i STILL disagree w/my now-gone supervisor who insisted that i treat kids the way i do 'bc it's in my nature/personality'#it most CERTAINLY is not!!!!! i was SUCH a hater of ANYONE younger than me for a LONG TIME growing up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#i had to be TAUGHT these things. i had to LEARN to LISTEN to kids and take them seriously!!!!!!!!!#a kid on friday told me he had mixed feelings abt some of his older friends possibly becoming youth workers at the camp in the summer
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latin-dr-robotnik · 6 months
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I'm impressed I uploaded a Sonic X SonAmy video to YouTube and it was both a hit and a pretty chill discussion in the comments, at least in comparison to the sheer violence in the comments section of SonAmy Frontiers videos from back then.
I mean, there's still the occasional dumbass going around with paper-thin arguments looking for a fight in the wrong place, but very few comments were caught by YouTube's filter and most of them weren't actually mean comments at all, soooo... that's a win.
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hedgehog-moss · 3 months
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I saw an astronaut walking on the side of the road today, which is the kind of thing my brain will placidly accept at first, only to go "Wait, an astronaut" a minute later once I'm done with my previous train of thought. By then I felt like it might be too late to stop my car, but I ended up stopping anyway because I didn't want to spend the rest of the afternoon wondering.
I waited for the astronaut to catch up with me since they were going in my direction, but they didn't. Eventually I got out of the car and retraced my steps, and after a bend in the road when I saw no one walking towards me I decided the visitor must have gone back to their spacecraft and I would never get an explanation for this—and then in the distance I caught a glimpse of the white space suit disappearing into the forest.
I managed to catch up with them and they turned out to be a distant neighbour of mine (let's call her M.), and what looked like a space suit when I was driving by was a beekeeper's outfit! (Sorry for the pointless suspense but I was taking you on the same little journey my brain went through.) M. was tickled when she learnt that I mistook her for an astronaut—she told me she'd borrowed her husband's too-big shoes which made her drag her feet, hence why she looked like she was having trouble readjusting to Earth's gravity.
Then she said that one of her hives had swarmed, and she was pretty sure she knew where the swarm was. I had no idea how swarming worked so as we walked in the woods she explained that when a hive becomes too crowded, the queen will get replaced by a new one, and the old queen will leave along with half of the bees. After this split, the swarm will cluster somewhere nearby and wait while scout bees fly away in search of a new hive location. "That's when you have to catch them—if you can find the swarm. But here it is!"
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I wasn't expecting quite so many bees!! I'm pretty scared of all flying creatures so allow me to pat myself on the back for what came next—I thought I was about to learn how to catch a swarm from a prudent distance, but M. asked if I could give her a hand, seeing as her husband was supposed to be here to help but clearly wasn't.
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The first step of catching a swarm was spraying the bees with sugar water, and I was glad not to be asked to help with that, as it seemed like something that could make bees angry. ("On the contrary, it makes them less agitated!" I was told, but that remained to be seen.) Step 2 was pulling on a rope tied to the tree branch in order to lower the swarm into the new hive, and that was the job I was recruited for. The rope was long enough that I could stand several metres away to pull on it, but my role in this swarm-catching business was still all too clear to any angry bee looking for someone to blame.
I remembered reading that bees can sense the electric field of flowers, so I thought there was no way they wouldn't sense the staticky nervousness coming from the rope-puller, but thankfully they completely ignored me.
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M. was offering one fun fact about bees after the other, in a very relaxed voice, which was very interesting and very soothing for both me and the bees. She said this particular colony was very sweet ("some bee colonies are meaner than others?" "yes of course"), and that swarming usually happens a bit earlier in the year "but it's been raining so much lately, the bees had to postpone all their activities, just like us" and also "swarming involves quite a bit of planning ahead of time; for example worker bees have to put the queen on a diet so she won't be too fat to fly. Did you know that?" I did not!
Unfortunately our first attempt to catch the swarm failed. The bees entered the hive, had a quick look around their new home, then left in disgust and formed a thick, angry, buzzing cloud over our heads, while I tried to think nothing but bee-loving thoughts to make my electric field harmless and friendly.
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Then one after the other all the bees returned to the exact same spot on the branch where we'd first found them. ("Because it smells like the queen" said M.) We examined the near-empty hive and found that a mouse had made a nest in there! She was no longer here but the traces of her passage were evident (some of the comb was very nibbled.)
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As we were removing the supplies brought in by the mouse (sticks, hay), M.'s husband joined us and he had brought a spray bottle containing some sort of bee-attracting liquid (pheromones?) (I didn't have a close look at the bottle because I made sure to stay far away from the bee-attracting liquid, while he sprayed it inside the hive.)
He had also brought a white sheet which he spread under the tree, explaining that the bees will want to get away from the bright surface and look for darkness, thus hopefully getting inside the box. Another thing I learnt is that once the queen enters the hive, the nearest worker bees will spread the message by turning round and fluttering their wings to send a chemical signal in specific directions, which will be picked up by other bees farther away; at strategic intervals some bees will light the beacons of Gondor turn round and fan their wings to relay this scent-message until the entire colony is informed of the queen's new location.
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We were more successful the second time around! This time the bees who went in didn't immediately get out again to return to their branch. Well I say "we" but I didn't volunteer to pull on the rope again, so I can't claim any role in this victory. But my personal victory was that I stood quite a bit nearer this time so I could watch everything closely, and I felt more intrigued than nervous. Bees were constantly zipping past me but it had become clear that my electric field was pure and they bore me no ill will. I was always fond of bees from afar and happy to see them do their thing in flowers in the spring, but today's adventure got me interested in their daily life as well, so I think I'll read some books about bees this summer!
I was reading last month about the morality of termite colonies (Maeterlinck's La vie des termites) and I had a feeling this man must have written some poetic stuff about bees as well—and he did. Here's a translated excerpt from his book "La vie des abeilles" :)
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httpsghostie · 1 year
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Three's a Crowd
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bro I have no words for what I've just written it's pure filth I can't stop wont stop I need them internally
I'm not sorry for this
Summary: a situationship between your lieutenant and your colonel that leads to obscene measures.
Word Count: 2.5k
Warnings: smut, Simon 'Ghost' Riley x female!reader x König, unprotected piv and dp sex, kinda cuckold (?, light spanking, dacryphilia, praising/humiliating, lots of pet names, breeding kink, choking, no use of y/n
masterlist
NSFW under the cut
You didn't know exactly how, but you ended up in a situationship between the colonel and your lieutenant, none of them knowing about each other.
Ghost was never the jealous type, at least that's what he said. But some things changed when he heard your voice when he was passing in front of König's room.
"Scheiße, baby." He moaned. It wasn't so loud, but since Ghost had keen senses and was practically merging his ear with the door, it was loud enough for him to hear. He was startled, how could you do this?
For a brief moment, he felt insecure. Was he not enough for you? That's why you had to find someone else to give you pleasure? But you've always told him how it was good, how he fucked you just the way you liked it.
Lieutenant 'not the jealous type' Ghost.
Ironical.
But that feeling changed when he was pinning your face to the mattress, ass up, his cock abusing your hole. He held his phone up, filming how your ass jiggled when he thrusted hard inside you. Your arms were tied behind your back with his belt, and he held them before pulling out and jerking himself off, coming on your ass, cum dripping down your big lips.
And, well, that video was 'accidentally' sent to König's e-mail. 
She lets me cum inside.
Ghost could not fucking believe the answer he read on the phone. He expected König to back off, but apparently König had the same expectations.
He couldn't confront you, and the idea of sharing you with his superior was slowly driving him nuts. You noticed he started fucking you rougher, he'd shoot videos of you two having sex saying he needed those to remind him of you. Of course it was weird at first, but you could trust him, or so you thought.
On the other side, König was also a bit different, the man was once calm, always taking his time with you, but he started to enjoy being meaner. He'd either deny or overstimulate you until you cried on his girthy and long dick hitting your cervix. 
One day, while gagging on König's dick, you noticed him eyeing the locked phone on the bed, beside him. Without stopping, you reached for it and opened the camera, placing it on his large palm. He looks down at you, confused, and you give him a cock drunk smile. He didn't want to ask to film you, so this was pretty much convenient for him.
That was the first video he sent to Ghost in response to him fucking you senseless.
He was speechless. His cocky demeanor vanished as he tried to come up with a snarky response. Nothing could've prepared him to see you drooling on another cock. Unintentionally, the sight of you sucking another guy's dick made him hard. He had to excuse himself out of the meeting because he had a boner. It was funny, he felt like a teen.
But you noticed how both of them were different towards you and each other. They weren't used to talking before, and now it seemed like they'd punch each other's faces whenever they met in common rooms. König assigned difficult tasks towards Ghost and the thought of them knowing about your situationship terrified you once it crossed your mind.
You thought about confronting them, explaining the whole situation. They were both excellent in bed and they provided you with different feelings. König was soft and caring and Ghost was… well, Ghost. But you knew you could lose them two, even though you didn't have an established relationship with them.
One day, the task force is all drinking together, playing truth or dare. Gaz is dared to do something obscene, and he playfully moans like a girl.
Aye, sounds like the lad in König's room.
You choke, spitting the whiskey coke out, the soda gets out from your nose and your eyes get teary from the gas. They all get quiet when they look at you and you fake a laugh, of course Soap had to say that. 
They soon forgot about the awkwardness and went back to the game, but Ghost was eyeing you like a prey. You purposefully avoided them since you all joined for the party, and he and König sat on opposite sides from each other. You sat in between Price and Gaz, you all in a weird circle.
Meeting room. Now.
Your phone buzzed as you received a message from your Lieutenant. You read it from the notifications and looked up, but he was already gone in the darkness. You come up with an excuse and get out of the common area.
When you walked in, the phantom was standing right across the table, you could only see a glimpse of his eyes. The lights were off, but the room was lit when he started typing the digits of his phone password. He slowly stands up and walks towards you, your legs already trembling with fear. The phone is left on the table right in front of you, displaying a video of your fucked out face while sucking a dick very different from his.
"Simon, I can expl-" you try to say, but you're cut off as he grabs a fistful of your hair and buries your face on the cold wooden surface of the table.
"Y'know why I brought you here?" He asks, holding your wrists behind your back. "So everyone can see who you belong to." You feel him restraining your hands with one of his hands, and the spare one unfastened his belt and pulled his pants down just enough to expose his already hard dick.
At this moment, you thank yourself for wearing sweatpants, because they were easily pulled down from your body. He lifted his mask and spat on your pussy, then entered you with his full length, not giving you time to get used to his size.
He fucked you desperately, grabbing your hair again, making you look at the looping video on the screen of his phone.
"You're such a fucking little slut." He groaned. "You're so desperate you need two fat cocks?" You felt ashamed, your face burning, not knowing if it was from the whiskey or the embarrassment. The door made a locking sound and you jolted, but Ghost's grip didn't let you give a look. "Like what you see here, Colonel?" He asks in between breaths, you squirm and try to move but he holds you in place. Soon there was a figure across from you, sitting on the empty chair and manspreading.
"If you fucked her good enough she wouldn't come to me." He said in that thick German accent.
"You're really petty for a second option." Ghost holds your throat from behind, choking you and forcing you to look at König. You can see König's dick getting hard, it wasn't easy for him to mask that due to his size. He got up and slowly walked around the table to get to you. 
"How does he feel, schatz?" König grabs you by the chin, blue orbits finding its way into your soul. You couldn't even babble an answer, Ghost was fucking you brainless. Your eyes could only look back to König and your head could only nod. He lifts a bit of his hood and gives you a kiss, his lips containing the warmth you needed to melt.
"Kneel." Ghost demands you as he pulls out. You do as you're told, but in order to comfortably be on your knees, you pull your pants back up. They don't seem to care. König takes his belt off and folds it, running it from your chest to your chin, lifting your head.
"Be a good girl, ya?" He says as he pushes his pants down, his dick bouncing up as he releases from the boxers. Without even noticing, your mouth was already open and your tongue was laying flat. König brushed his pinkish, leaking tip on your lips and tongue, the familiar salty taste of his precum invading your senses. He pushes it in your mouth, fucking it slowly. Your hand travels to Ghost's dick and jerks him off as he watches. "Like what you see, Lieutenant?" König chuckles.
Ghost was going to give him a sarcastic response, but his head fell back when you started to suck him off, your hand now on König. As you expected, Ghost wasn't so gentle, so his hand grabbed your hair and pushed your throat down his length. You soon became a drooling mess, taking turns on each throbbing cock in front of you.
Your jaw became sore, taking just one of them was already hard enough. You felt a pressure against your pussy and looked down, König's boot was grinding against you. You groan, sinking your weight on his foot. The more you gagged around them, the more he'd move.
"Didn't I tell you were just a fucking whore?" Ghost pulled from your mouth and tapped his cock on your tear stained cheeks. "Getting off his foot, huh? So desperate." As if it was possible for you to get any wetter, you felt another wave of arousal moisten your panties.
He got you up and almost dragged you to the sofa in the corner of the room. König followed just behind. Ghost sat down and made you kneel in front of him, and König positioned himself behind you, large palms roaming your small body and gently pulling your pants down again. He aligned his shaft with your soaked pussy and in one long thrust he pushed it deep inside you.
"Just so… fucking tight." You hear him whimper as he bottoms out. Your eyes are locked with the masked man in front of you, that's slowly jerking himself off at the sight of you being filled by someone else. "Gonna have to tear this pretty pussy apart." You clench around him and he starts fucking you. 
Ghost gently pulls your face closer and lifts his mask, planting a sloppy kiss on your lips. You could only moan, in hope no one else could hear it. Your lips were now connected on Ghost's member, eagerly sucking him off. Your moans sent vibrations down his skin and he groaned whenever you gagged.
König's cock was buried deep down your walls, he felt an incessant need to slam his hips into yours and make you a moaning mess, so he held your hips in place as he thrusted hard into you. One of his hands travelled down to your clit and started rubbing circles, easily making you orgasm around him. He felt his climax getting closer, but he didn't want this moment to end just as quick. When his pace became erratic, he pulled out, slapping your ass.
He got up and sat down beside Ghost, who got up and pulled you to his arms, holding you firmly in the air. Your legs were pushed to your chest, the back of your knees held by his veiny forearms. He entered your used hole and started slow, but it didn't last long and he was soon bouncing you up and down his length.
König watched as you took Ghost entirely, thinking about how tight you'd feel with another cock inside you. He gets up and walks behind you, brushing his tip on you.
"Do you think she can handle?" König asks with genuine concern.
"She'll take it and thank you for it, isn't that right, bunny?" Your arms are wrapped around his shoulders, your face buried in his neck. You manage a small nod before feeling another monstrous cock entering your abused hole.
How that fit was a story for another day, but your pussy was happy to be filled by two men. The pain started to go away and you moved a bit to signal them to go. They managed to keep the same pace for a while. König let you lay back on his chest as Ghost held your legs, they pushed deep down into your core.
"Look at you, taking both of us." Ghost mumbles. "Such an obedient little pet." 
"Such a good girl, liebe." König moans in your ear.
They kept fucking you until you felt empty again. Emptier than ever. Your pants were taken away from your body and König pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the couch, already making you sit on his shaft. Ghost came behind you and you felt a humid finger entering your tight little hole. 
"Simon-" you moan.
"Shut up." He puts another finger in.
"Too much."
"You've taken it before and you're gonna take it again like the good slut you are, understood?" You slowed down on König and felt another finger inside of you, stretching your butthole. You couldn't help but whimper at the way he was using you. "Don't stop fucking her." König holds your hips and starts thrusting harder.
Ghost replaced his fingers with his aching dick and you've never felt so good, so filled. He waited a minute before moving, giving you a bit to adjust. But goddamn it you were tight.
As soon as the pain went away, he started to move, gradually going faster. König was a whimpering mess below you, moaning german praises in your ear. In little to no time, you found yourself being railed once again.
"Can't take much more." König whimpered, digging his nails on your hips. Ghost landed a sharp slap to your ass and towered over you to reach for your clit, he stimulated you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, trying to memorize your scent.
Your legs trembled as you felt your high approaching faster and faster, and you fall on König's chest, trying to muffle your loud moans. 
"That's right, baby, be a good girl and come for us." König holds you close, reaching a new spot. That's what it took for you to squirt all over their dicks. Crying at the non stopping thrusts.
"Always have to leave a mess, huh?" You're still squirming as you hear Ghost say. "Fuck, you're so pretty when you cry."
König also feels his orgasm approaching and with a few more thrusts he can't hold it anymore.
"Gonna fill your cunt with my cum." He moans, holding your chin to look at him. He comes inside of you, but he doesn't seem to be stopping anytime soon. He keeps on slamming his dick inside your cervix and pushing his cum inside you, making the tears fall out of your eyes. He becomes a whimpering mess as he overstimulates his dick in your pussy.
Ghost also can't stop thinking about how good you feel, and how bad he needs to cum inside you. He slips a hand in front of your body and squeezes your breasts. It was enough to electrify his body and sent shivers down his spine. With just a few more erratic thrusts, he spills his seeds in your hole. He pulls out, kissing your back through his mask. König finally pulls out too, his dick red from the overstimulation. You collapse on his chest, losing consciousness.
"Truce?" He asks Ghost, who's getting dressed.
"Truce."
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lemonlover1110 · 1 month
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𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
Sukuna
[Chapter 4] Expecting
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Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader
Warnings: Sukuna's an ass
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Sukuna visits you every night, trying to fulfill his duty. He’s doing his best to make it happen, but your womb is as bare as the day you met. It’s been three months since the day you showed up, and he’s been having sex with you nearly daily. You should be pregnant by now.
Yet, you’ve bled between the months. He’s been keeping track, after all, it’s his whim. You claim the bleeding is lighter than your usual lunar cycle, but that doesn’t signify anything for him… Perhaps you’re less fertile? It doesn’t make sense to him. Women don’t bleed while they’re pregnant, therefore you’re not expecting. 
He’s feeding you, clothing you, giving you luxuries that you could never afford in your lifetime– How dare you not fulfill his simple wish. He’s even helped your brother and helped your aunt in the process as well, he’s going above and beyond while you have done nothing for him.
He’s become increasingly harsh with you. He won’t dare to lay a hand on you, but he’s meaner than usual. He’s at times cruel with you, and while you try to understand that he’s just frustrated with the situation and lack of results, you get in your feelings about his behavior. Who wouldn’t be upset at the fact that a monster nearly twice their size is yelling at them over something they can’t control?
“King Sukuna will enjoy dinner with lady Kyoko tonight, my queen.” Uraume bows down before you. They’ve been giving you the announcement at least once a week. He’s rewarding her for your barren womb. You simply hum in response, barely even acknowledging them.
“Please tell Hina to make my dinner early, I want to rest soon.” You tell them before they leave the room. Sukuna told you that you wouldn’t receive any loyalty from the very beginning, therefore you’re not upset that he goes off with Kyoko when he pleases. As a matter of fact, you’re glad that he’s choosing to visit her tonight.
You try not to think about the situation, though it’s the only thing that pops up in your mind. He’s done what you’ve asked from him, he’s simply waiting on you now. He’s impatient, he won’t wait around on you forever. He’ll get tired of waiting soon, and you fear what will happen to you that day. 
“My queen.” You barely hear Hina coming into your room, so you’re startled when you hear her voice. She holds your tray of food, and you sigh at the sight. The food she makes is delicious each and every time, but you’re just not in the mood to eat tonight. Sukuna won’t let you rest if he knows you haven’t eaten; he wants the process to be as fast and as smooth as possible.
“Hina, do you also cook for Kyoko?” You question once she puts the tray of food down. She furrows her brows, trying to recall who Kyoko is. The name doesn’t ring a bell.
“I apologize, I don’t know who that is.” She responds, and it gives you a sense of satisfaction that the servant that tends to you goes nowhere near Kyoko. Though Hina is more of your personal servant than anything. 
Ever since the night she cooked for you, she’s been tasked with a lot more regarding you. She’s well studied, knowing how to read and write which made Sukuna force her to teach you. She keeps you company during your lonely afternoons, cheering you up while you wait for Sukuna to visit your room. You’re starting to see her as a friend, and the thought of Kyoko getting anywhere near her upsets you.
“Will you keep me company tonight?” You ask her, even though she doesn’t have much of an option. Your request is a command– Luckily for her, she doesn’t mind at all.
“Of course.” She answers with a subtle smile on her lips. She kneels before you, and waits for you to speak. She speaks when spoken to. She steals some glances your way, watching the way you eat the food that she made for you. You usually devour the meal, but it seems that tonight you’re eating with disgust. “Is everything okay? Do you need me to remake the meal?”
“I don’t have much of an appetite, my apologies.” You tell her, and she holds her breath. She hates to scold you but it’s her duty.
“You mustn’t apologize, my queen. King Sukuna would kill me if he were to hear your words.” She responds, and you’re about to mutter another apology due to your carelessness, but you hold back. You chuckle before giving her a slight nod. “What’s on your mind?”
“What makes a woman fall pregnant? Other than sex.” You ask her, and she’s taken back by your question. Her lips form into a straight line as she takes one good look at you. 
“Why would you like to know, my queen? You’re already expecting.” She says, and you furrow your brows. Hina has been by your side to see everything that’s been going on for the past couple of months, she knows that you’re not expecting. 
“Hina… This isn’t a joke.” You tell her, frankly a bit offended that she’s said what she said. She maintains the same serious expression, and you can’t make anything of it. “I’ve still been bleeding.”
“When my mother was pregnant, she bled. Granted, we had no idea but within seven months she had a healthy baby.” She answers. “It sometimes happens.”
“Babies come early.” You point out. Hina knows a lot, but you know your own body. If you were carrying a baby, you’d feel it.
“They do. But you’re also waking up nauseous, with tender breasts and you’re extremely fatigued throughout the day. I’ve been by your side enough to know.” She explains, and you chew on the inside of your cheek. Maybe you’re just sick, it doesn’t signify that you’re pregnant. “Plus you’ve been gaining some weight, it seems like a baby to me.”
“Let’s change the topic.” You end up saying, getting annoyed with her. She’s telling you what she’s noticed, yet you’re getting irritated with the mere suggestion that you’re expecting. You don’t want to get your hopes up in the case that you aren’t.
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A week after Hina tells you that you’re expecting, you begin to feel all the symptoms that she mentioned but even worse than before. You think you’re just getting into your head, giving yourself false hope. You’re in your head a lot since Sukuna has stopped visiting you at night. He no longer asks for you to join him for dinner, and you can’t remember the last time you saw his face.
“Hina…” You begin, needing the opinion of someone else. She’s told you that you’ve been gaining weight, but you need her confirmation once again. 
“Yes, my queen?” Hina responds without wasting a second. She’s flashed by you, and she doesn’t even blink twice. It’s common for her to see you bare as she helps you get ready– Though being suddenly flashed is not usual.
“Am I gaining weight?” You ask her, and she nods in response.
“You are expecting.” She reaffirms you for the umpteenth time that week. It goes in one ear and out the other for you, and you’ll ask her in ten minutes once again. Hina walks over to you and tries to cover you with your robe, “Please cover yourself before someone walks inside.”
“Who’s going to dare–” You begin, cut off by the door to your room sliding open. Uraume walks inside, about to give an announcement but they take one good look at you. You’re thinking that they’re staring at you because you’re pretty much naked, and that’s only part of the issue. A subtle smile comes to Uraume’s lips.
“I shall tell him the news.” Uraume says, and you furrow your brows. What are they saying? Are they talking about the fact that you’re practically naked? It’s not anything crazy considering Hina is your servant and helps you with everything throughout the day.
“It’s not necessary.” You tell them, but they don’t listen to you and walk out of the room. It’s not a matter that requires Sukuna so why are they telling him this? Is Hina not supposed to see you bare? “What are they going to do?”
“Tell him the news that you’re expecting.” Hina fixes your robe, and you click your tongue. 
“How would they be able to tell? I don’t even have a bump, I’ve just gained some weight.” You say, and Hina lets out a chuckle. You still refuse to acknowledge it, but she can’t blame you. There isn’t a definite way for you to know. She just feels the energy the moment she steps anywhere near you, it’s too hard to ignore.
“We’ll see what King Sukuna says.” Hina tells you after she’s done dressing you up again. She’d make you more presentable, but she has a feeling that you won’t go out so there isn’t a need for it. She wants you to be as comfortable as possible.
Your body tenses up as you hear his loud footsteps approach the room. You feel as if you were a child about to get in trouble, even if you haven’t done anything wrong– Not to your knowledge at least. Hina bows down on the floor the moment Sukuna enters the room. You don’t give him the same honor, you don’t need to.
“Come here.” Sukuna doesn’t have to speak twice before you’re stepping towards him. You hold your breath when you’re before him, growing impatient as you wait for him to do something. A wicked smile forms on his face before he gleefully says, “It’s resonating.”
“What–” You begin as his hands go to your lower abdomen.
“He has a strong flow of cursed energy.” Sukuna points out, which leaves you confused. The statement isn’t meant for you though, you notice Uraume smiling before they bow down their head. “So much… It has to be twins.”
“Twins?!” You’re still denying the fact that you’re expecting, the mere suggestion that you’re expecting more than one baby is baffling. You try to take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “How do you even know I’m pregnant? It–”
“Do not question me, woman.” Sukuna can’t even properly yell at you, as a weird feeling consumes him… Satisfaction, it has to be. He’s finally getting what he wants. “How did I not notice?”
“You haven’t–” Uraume begins but Sukuna turns his head to glare at them. They bite their tongue as Sukuna looks back down at you.
“You have to eat properly. I’ll overlook your every meal.” Sukuna says, which is overwhelming to hear. Dinner with Sukuna was already an experience, so you aren’t necessarily excited to have him watch you eat every meal. 
“Is that necessary?” You ask him, and Hina is surprised by your bold words. Though she guesses you can say whatever you’d like when you’re expecting Sukuna’s child. “I mean so far I’m eating well and everything–”
“I will be accompanying you.” He hates when he has to repeat himself, but he guesses he has no other option. He’s not going to harm you in any way, at least not when you’re clearly pregnant. “Uraume make the announcement, and set people to watch her.”
“Watch me? Am I a child?” You question, and he can’t help but chuckle. You truly are clueless, he can’t help but be amused.
“Someone will try to harm you. You’re so pathetic that you can’t fend for yourself, so I’ll assign someone to watch you.” Sukuna answers, and just as the words leave his lips, an idea comes to mind. Would he like to have you by his side all day and every day? Absolutely not. Does he want to ensure that you’re safe and his son(s) are alright? Yes. In that way he’ll also have the pleasure to rub it in everyone’s face that he’s having an heir. “I retract my order. I’ll be watching her.”
“King Sukuna, that’s not the best decision–” Uraume begins, thinking about your well-being considering Sukuna’s life is something that you’re not ready to see. You’ve been shielded from it the past couple of months, but he’s even worse than the being that he presents himself to be.
“I’ve made my decision and that’s final. Who are you to question my order?!” He raises his voice, which is the most extreme reaction that he’d give Uraume. If they were anyone else, they would’ve taken their final breath. Sukuna rolls his eyes before speaking again, “You, on the floor, make her something to eat. And you, Uraume, get to work on my food.”
“Yes, my king.” They respond in unison before walking out of the room, leaving you alone with Sukuna.
You aren’t sure what to do once you’re alone with him. Whenever you’re alone with him you proceed to have sex, but it’s too early in the day for that to happen. You’re not sure if it’s going to happen again, not when you’re already expecting.
“You’ve proved to be useful.” Sukuna comments, extending one of his arms for you to take, so you can walk with him to the dining room. You’re hesitant to take it, but you end up doing what he wants you to since you don’t need him to raise his voice at you. Walking alongside him is an honor for anyone, and you’re the first to do it– Not because he sees you as an equal, but because you carry something that is.
“How do you know that I’m expecting?” You question, which goes unheard by him. It’s not for the same reasons as Hina since Sukuna isn’t by your side to know that your body has been changing. You recall his words from earlier, though they make little to no sense.
“What do you want?” Sukuna asks you, and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion, looking up at him. “You must want a gift considering you’ve partially fulfilled your duty.”
“Oh…” You respond. Your gift was him helping your brother and aunt, which he already has done. But he’s offering something more, which you’ll gladly accept. You just have to think about what you want. “Can I see my family?”
“No. Anything else?” Sukuna answers, and you sigh. You shake your head, you don’t want anything else for the time being. “Jewelry is what your kind likes, no?”
“I guess.” 
“Then you’ll get jewelry.”
729 notes · View notes
hyunsvngs · 10 months
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𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 - lee minho x fem!reader
wc: 5.8k
cw: this is a piss fic, you have been warned - don't like don't read, established d/s dynamics in a relationship, SMUT MDNI.
synopsis: your boyfriend has something he wants to try in bed. you didn't expect to like it so much.
a/n: like i said before this is a piss fic, if you don't like don't read! thank u to the sweet girl who commissioned this & thank u to my babies may and nessa for proofreading and also my ems <3 i was super nervous about this so i hope u like <3 smut warnings ofc under cut
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sw: PISS, established d/s dynamics, dom!minho, sub!reader, subspace, SERIOUSLY THERE’S PISS, face fucking, oral (m rec), very negotiated kink, minho calls reader a plethora of pet names, nipple play, one (1) face slap, minho’s condescending and MEAN, choking, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, degradation, squirting, reader calls minho sir briefly, brief aftercare but more offscreen!!
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
It’s always daunting when Minho gets like this. You know exactly what’s going to go down tonight - you’ve discussed it extensively. You always have to discuss it extensively. Minho is nothing if not a good dom, and there’s rules and regulations that you have to adhere to, even if he is your boyfriend.
It still catches you off guard. He paces across the room to your shared wardrobe, shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and exposing his veiny forearms. You’re perched on the bed, the exact way he told you to be in your plain black underwear. The fresh sheets are a welcome coolness on your warm skin. You’re overheating in excitement. You can’t wait. 
He’s going to piss on you tonight. He’s going to piss on you tonight, or maybe even in you, he’d said - he wanted to make you well and truly messy. Just the way he liked you. He told you he’d be mean, maybe even meaner than normal, and you’d agreed to it all before climbing into his lap and begging him to take you on the flimsy dining table chair in your kitchen in all of your excitement. He had chuckled, brushing a hand over your head with a teasing little “you want it that bad, huh?”. He still fucked you, so your plan went as hoped.
“I want to talk to you about something before we start, jagi,” His voice is smooth, low in volume, yet you hear every word loudly. You nod in response, and he turns and blinks at you, slow and cat-like. Oh, yeah. You were forgetting yourself already.
You blush in embarrassment of how far gone you are already, and he smiles, soft and barely noticeable. Fond. “Yeah, Min?”
The blush only continues to spread when he finally, finally climbs onto the bed next to you. He’s still in his work clothes, shirt tight on his broad pecs and his trousers tight on his thighs. You try not to stare. You fail, and he chuckles, using two fingers to prop your chin up to look directly at his eyes.
“This scene is a little harder than the other ones we’ve done,” He looks at you. It would feel scrutinising, the way he’s sizing you up, but his eyes are so full of fondness you can’t feel perceived at all - only admired. “I’m a little worried you may fall into subspace. Do you know what that is?”
He’s using his dominant voice on you, you swear. The tone of voice that’s level, not quite monotone but very, very straightforward and firm. Almost strict. It makes you rub your thighs together in need. Your boyfriend is so sexy when he’s like this. 
A quick scratch to your chin has you blinking back into reality. Yes. “Yes, I do know what that is. I’ve never done that before though, have I? So I probably won’t now, and-”
“We don’t know that,” He’s firm when he cuts you off, but presses a kiss to your nose nonetheless. “I need to know if you’re okay with me continuing if I notice you getting all floaty, jagi. I won’t if you don’t want me to. This is all in your hands, yeah? You know you run this show.” 
He chuckles, lightening the mood, but he’s right. When Minho first introduced you to this, you realised very quickly that despite the dominant being physically in charge, it was definitely the submissive that held the reins. It’s hard giving yourself over to someone so viscerally - it’s a vulnerable state to be in, letting someone decide your limits and decide what’s best for you.
Despite that, you’d let Minho fuck you outside in six foot snow, so you were definitely down for being fucked in subspace.
“Yes. Yeah, I want you to- I think it’d be hot, I think,” You’re babbling already, and Minho smiles again, his teeth glinting in the low light of your lamp. “I think it would be hot if you carried on, and I was like- all fuzzy, and stuff. You know?”
It’s silent for a beat, and then he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Cute. Remember I love you, jagi, okay?”
Oh. Oh, you were starting? He normally only said that before you started, and before you can question him, he’s pressing his mouth against yours firmer, harder. It’s messy, the way he dominates your mouth instantly and uses one hand to tangle in your hair, yanking your hair back. You whimper against his lips, and he bites your bottom lip in response, finally moving to press you down to the bed with him on top of you. He starts to trail kisses down your face and your neck, and you can't help but let out a small noise of excitement. Before you can beg him to leave his mark on you, he quickly moves back up to your lips and starts to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth in an act of possession. You wrap your arms around him and bring him closer, feeling yourself getting a lot more than just worked up.
His chest is muscled, the slightly toned soft muscle that only makes sense on Minho. He’s not heavy on top of you, only a presence where he licks and sucks into your mouth until you’re leaking into your panties. He pulls away, his lips dropping to your neck, and you can’t be anything more than pliant the way you let him use your skin and mark you as his. You are his. Mentally, emotionally, physically - any way he wants you, you’ll let him.
“I love this body,” Minho groans, his voice low and gravelly. “Such a filthy fucking body. You’re gonna let me piss on it, aren’t you?”
You whine, loud and unabashed, and Minho chuckles. It’s a puff of air against the exposed column of your neck and your hips cant up, searching for friction. 
“Oh, you are,” His hand moves down to your bra, searching through the lace for your pebbled nipple. The lace is thin, pitch black and almost sheer, and a grin forms on his face when he manages to pinch your nipple meanly. “Look at how excited you are for it. Your nipples are so hard, are you that excited for my piss?”
You try to nod in response, but a quick slap against your cheek using his spare hand has you reeling to try and form words. You’re babbling before you can even think. “Y-Yes! Yes, Minho, I’m excited. I can’t wait, I wanna- I wan’ taste it, will you let me? Please?”
He hums in consideration, yanking down the cups of your bra to expose your tits to him. He was right - your nipples are hard and pebbled, dusky against your flesh, and he ducks down to engulf one in his mouth. His lips are full, plush like pillows, and his tongue darts around your nipple in small kitten licks. Soft, wet, warm. Pliant. His.
Minho’s bunny teeth are quick to bite at the peak, and you whine, back arching up to get more of the painful pleasure. He coos at this, finger running over your areola once when he pulls back from your chest. He sits back on his haunches, fingers deftly making quick use of his belt. The way he pulls the belt from the loops on his trousers have you remembering all the times he’s whipped you with it, and your eyes go blurry. You’re staring directly at the extremely prominent bulge in his trousers as if you somehow have x-ray vision and can see his cock in all its glory already.
“I’m going to fuck your face,” He explains, pushing down the expensive branded boxers to his thighs. His thighs are thick, muscled from years of dance, and you nod at his words despite having your vision solely trained on the bulging muscles. You can’t even keep your attention there for long - his cock springs out, hard and flushed and so big, so thick in the tight ring he forms around the base. The veins look as though they could be practically throbbing beneath the skin with arousal. “I’ll fuck your face, and I’ll piss down your throat. Do you want that? Tell me.”
He’s asking you, and you can’t believe it. Of course you want it, but you respond anyway. “I want it. I want it so bad, Minho. How do you want me? On the floor, on my knees? Or do you-”
“On the floor,” He looks towards the ground, pleased with himself when you heed his commands immediately. You’re quick to dive off of the bed and sink to your knees on the floor, and Minho lets out a fond chuckle before standing in front of you, ever the image of dominance. The hardwood floor doesn’t save your knees, still feeling hard and uncomfortable, and the way the pain bites into your legs has you shifting even more. It turns you on, being used and treated like an object, and being put on the floor to suck cock doesn’t help any. You’re positively ruining your panties by now.
His trousers are pushed down to his ankles, the perfect juxtaposition of black, thick material against his milky skin. His shirt is rolled up just enough for you to see the bottom of his tummy, hairy and soft above his cock. You expect him to keep it on, but you watch in awe as he unbuttons his shirt quickly and throws it to the side. His chest is exposed to you then, all broad muscle and dusky pink nipples against his skin.
He pumps his shaft in his hand a few times for good measure, just barely a few inches from your face, and then he’s tapping the cockhead on your lips. “Open wide. C’mon, kitty cat.”
His tone is condescending, almost patronising, and you hold back a whine. When your lips fall apart, he’s pushing into your mouth before you can even process it. A blistering, feverish pace immediately takes over his hips, and his cockhead is ramming down your throat with only a slight bit of pain beneath all of the pleasure. You try to run your tongue over the tip, to trace the veins with the tip of your tongue, but it’s impossible. He’s using your mouth like he’d use your pussy, unabashed and downright mean.
“Take it,” he grunts, looking ever the ethereal being above you. If you didn’t know him, you’d swear he was an angel - no, a fallen angel, debauched and with black, wiry wings sprouting from his back. Sweat covers the top of his chest, shiny and wet, and his cockhead presses firmly into the back of your throat. Your eyes water with the intense ministrations on your throat, hands aching to reach out and grab onto Minho’s thighs. They stay securely on your own limbs, and Minho groans, his eyes staring down into yours.  “Fucking take it for me. Take my cock, dirty kitty. Don’t you dare fucking cry about it.”
You’d swear he was composed if it wasn’t for the way he was looking down at you. Minho’s mostly quiet in bed, only a few sparse noises, but the fire in his eyes is visible.
The sounds in the room are filthy. Your eyes are hazy already with the force that he’s rutting into your mouth, but when his hand goes into your hair, yanking with all of his might, you hear yourself whine between gags and you’re not even trying to. You’re floating, fuzzy where your boyfriend fucks his cockhead into your mouth - you can’t even consider what’s going on, not too out of it but out of it enough to question what’s actually happening around you. Is this what Minho was talking about before? Subspace?
“Oh, Jesus. Are you feeling fuzzy already, kitty?” He pulls his cock out, tapping the cockhead on your bottom lip. A string of drool attaches his cock back to your mouth and he groans in approval, feline eyes narrowing. “Went down so easy for me, huh? Do you think you can take a little more?”
You’re nodding then, subconsciously, but a slight smile on your face. You want more. You need more. You need his piss, wherever on your body that he deems acceptable - it’s like he’s marking you as his territory. It’s such a primitive act that gets you more than just hot under the collar. If he pisses on you, or in you, it’s as if he sees you as an object that’s beneath him, not worth anything more than his piss. 
“Good,” He muses, and then his hand is forming a tight ring around his length. It’s throbbing, long and thick where it protrudes from his groin with drops of pearlescent precum, and he presses it past your lips again with a small sigh. “I’ve gotta take a piss, kitty cat. I want you to swallow it all for me, and then you can have some milk in that pussy for being good. How’s that?”
You can’t reply, because he’s already bouncing your head on his shaft. He’s resorted to pulling you up and down on his shaft by your hair this time, not grinding his hips rhythmically into the hot, wet cavern you’ve provided. 
“You know, I really thought you’d say no to this,” How the fuck is his voice calm right now? “But then I realised that of course you’d be into it. My filthy little fucking urinal.”
You moan loudly around his shaft. Minho chuckles, and then he’s pulling back again, your throat abused and aching at the alleviation of pressure. His cockhead stays at the entrance of your mouth, and he drops a hand from your hair to pump it a few times, raising an eyebrow at you.
“It’s coming,” He warns. “Are you ready? Are you ready for my piss, filthy bitch?”
You moan, nodding, and when your tongue lolls out of your mouth, Minho lets out a loud groan. It’s primal, and you watch silently as he shakes his head and flutters his eyes closed to try and gain some control of himself. He runs his finger over the slit of his cockhead, and then he’s pushing the tip past your lips again and - oh. 
His piss begins leaking out of his tip, a slow and steady stream that tastes surprisingly a lot like you expected. It’s purely Minho, raw and unfiltered, and you whine and whimper and let him fill your mouth up with his piss. It feels filthy, your pussy positively dripping through your panties and onto the floor by now. The stream floods down your throat even as you continue to gulp it down greedily, and you allow your hands to finally find purchase on his thighs, fingernails digging into the muscle. He allows it, his hands both moving back to your hair to bob you on his tip just a little to get the rest of his piss out.
Minho pulls out of your mouth with a soft noise, his eyes staring down at you almost menacingly. You dip your tongue into his piss-slit once more, moaning at the remnants of the taste, and then you’re whining, loud and un-muffled. 
“Minho,” You say, voice high and needy. You feel as though you want to say so much, you want to beg so much, but nothing is coming out of your mouth. You’re so fucking turned on you feel like you could die. “P-Please. Please, please. I can’t, I can’t, please, please-”
He positively growls. You’re pulled up by two hands underneath your armpits and thrown onto the bed less than unceremoniously, his body sidling up next to you. He’s kicked his trousers off, you notice, body warm and firm next to you.
“Was it that good? Dirty little thing,” He hums, tongue licking one fat stripe up your neck. “C’mere. Let me taste it on you.”
Minho’s lips are firm against yours, and his hands are anything but gentle as he slides them down your body. It’s like he’s igniting you with electricity, every area of skin that he touches feeling warm and too sensitive. His lips trail down your neck, leaving another trail of fire behind them. You’re pliant, letting him pull you by your hair and your throat into his dominating, overwhelming kisses.
His fingers reach your panties, and his finger dips underneath the waistband. You gasp, holding your breath and wishing, praying that he’ll push his whole hand into your underwear, but he simply pulls his finger back with a small amused puff of air. 
“Hnnfg, Minho, Minho, please, I don’t, I can’t-“
Minho leans over you more then, his eyes dark and half-lidded when he stares into yours. His gaze is all-consuming, but there’s a slight hint of a teasing smile on his lips. “Jesus, kitty. Be quiet,” His voice is low, amused, until all signs of a smile drop from his face upon his fingers finally delving into your underwear. His forearm obscures your vision, muscled and veiny, but you can feel the way your wetness immediately drenches his fingertips. His eyes flicker from your face to your core in awe, lips slightly parted. “Fuckin- shit. Jagi, tell me this is a joke. You’re fucking drenched.”
You are. His fingers smear around in your wetness, spreading it all around your folds. He drags his middle and ring finger down to your hole, wet and sloppy, and you look at him with pleading eyes. You’re not sure you could talk even if you wanted to.
Minho simply smiles that toothy smile that you love, eyes crinkling. You’re confused - he’s being nice - until he’s shoving both fingers into you at once. It was a stretch you hadn't been prepared for, and you jolt with a squeal, hands going up to grip onto his forearm. 
“Do you remember what I said before, jagi?” He muses, fingers curling up into that spot that makes you whine. You do whine, legs thrashing around and toes curling against the sheets. “If you have any in there, I’m fucking having it. I want you to piss all over my cock before I fuck you with it, remember? I want you to treat you like the dirty little thing you are.”
You nod, brain still fuzzy and way too overwhelmed. Your pussy squelches loudly around his digits, and his spare hand wraps around your throat in a dangerous grip. It’s not too hard, but definitely there, and you whimper in approval. 
Your eyes roll back into your head at the pace he sets against your g-spot, and after a brief, tight squeeze, Minho removes his hand from your throat in favour of using two fingers on your clit along with his harsh fingering. His arm is curled underneath your waist in a position that must be painful to him, but you ignore it in favour of your own pleasure. 
You feel like you could scream, and you do let out some strangled noise that sounds nothing at all like you. Just when you think it can’t get any worse - or any better, actually - he slides another finger in, stretching you out with three of his digits. You’re dripping down onto his knuckles and you wail, starting to hump against his hand. You’re going to cum embarrassingly quickly.
“You better be fucking thinking of asking for permission, bitch,” Minho hisses in your ear. You moan in response, nodding. Of course you’ll ask. Something about your boyfriend just makes you want to be good. You want to obey him so he continues to give you such nice things. “You don’t make the decisions. I'm the one fucking that hole with my fingers right now, I'll be the one who says you can cum.”
His fingers thrust into you faster, if it was possible, and you thrash around. The movement brings Minho’s cock against your thigh, and you gasp at the realisation that he’s next to you, naked, in all his glory. Your fingernails still dig painfully into his forearm, but he doesn’t seem phased. “Minho, Minho- I’m gon’- please, please, please, I wanna cum, let me come, it hurts, I-“
“Oh, I know, I know. It just feels too good, doesn’t it? You can’t even fucking control yourself, writhing around like that,” He groans, eyes fixated on your face. You know your expression is screwed up in pleasure, eyes watering from the feeling of his fingers inside of you. His fingers begin to slide around on your clit rather than provide any direct pressure due to how wet you’re getting, but you still hump against the sensation with gratitude. You’d never have anything other than gratitude when Minho’s being so nice like this. “You’re behaving like a fucking whore. Beg me for it. Beg me to let a fucking whore like you cum all over my fingers, tell me how good it feels.”
He starts kissing up your neck again with the open-mouthed, wet movements, and you feel like you’re about to burst. Just a little more. Just a little more, and you can, you just have to will your brain to speak. “I-I love sir's fingers, fuck, I love when sir fingers me like this- fuck, sir I'm gonna- can't hold it- I, hnng, I can’t, I don’t- pleasepleaseplease-”
Minho pulls away from your neck with an alarmed little snort. “Sir? God, you are far gone,” He points out, but then he’s pinching your clit meanly with his fingers. It makes you hump his hand a little faster and whine a little louder. It’s quiet for a beat, and then he’s sighing as if he’s annoyed. You swear you catch him rolling his eyes through your blurry vision. “Okay, fine. Go on then, if you want to cum so badly. Cum.”
With one word, you feel like your whole world is falling apart. A gush of wetness bursts from you and all over the bed, probably soaking Minho too. Your ears are ringing and you can feel the tears brimming in your eyes begin to fall, fat streaks of wetness painting your skin. His fingers don’t slow, but he’s groaning in your ear now, coaching you along. He pulls his fingers out, rubbing over your clit with a wet hand that only made you let out another gush everywhere. You were sure you'd screamed.
You wail and thrash through your orgasm, and then you’re panting, body dropping back onto the bed. You don’t register Minho groaning, licking his fingers clean - you only realise he’s moved when he’s on top of you, yanking your soaking wet underwear down your legs and finally unclasping your bra. Your hands go above your head, pliant and willing, letting him take control. You’re fucked dumb by now, anyway. You’d be no use.
“If you had all that in there for me, you have some piss in there,” He muses, and you whine, shaking your head.
“D’nt need to pee, Min,” You insist, head lolling back on the sheets. You’re pliant, and Minho grabs your chin with his hand, making you face him. His ears are burning a shade of delectable pink, the flush travelling over his chest and making him look almost embarrassed. You know this state of Minho all too well, though. He’s so horny he feels like he’s about to explode.
“You do,” He responds, quick as a flash. You whimper as he presses his cockhead into your folds, just barely teasing the ruddy, flushed tip at your hole. Your hands move to grip onto the sheets next to your head, and just when you’re sure he’s going to put it in, Minho leans down, and then his hand is pressing on the bottom of your stomach. You wail, shaking your head. Minho chuckles knowingly. “You need to piss, don’t you?”
You do. Embarrassingly quickly, just from him pressing on your bladder. “I- it’ll make a mess, Min, I can’t, I can’t-”
“I want it to make a fucking mess,” He scoffs, pressing harder. He continues to drag his cock through your sopping wet folds with his other hand, his feline eyes staring at you with a renewed fire burning behind them. He’s daring you to disobey. You would never disobey him. “I want everything you have to give me. Piss all over my cock. Do it.”
You clench your thighs, stomach tensing. It doesn’t take much, only a slight rubbing of Minho’s hand on your tummy and you’re pissing. The stream erupts from you in a messy spurt, and Minho groans, pumping his cock to coat it in your mess. You whine, trying to shift your hips to catch his cock inside of you, but the mess you’re making ensures that it’s too slippery to do so.
“Stay still, you’ll get it in a second,” Minho mumbles, hand tightening around the head of his cock. It’s substantially lubed now, but he still continues to pump it, hand easing up on your stomach. Something about it has your mouth watering, staring at his cock and wondering how it tastes. Maybe he’ll let you suck it clean next time, let you taste his cock mixed with your own piss. “That’s it, kitty. Get sir’s cock nice and wet with your piss. Dirty little thing.”
When the stream finally finishes, you shift against the sheets, soaking wet and definitely a lot more aroused than you were previously. There’s still only one thing on your mind. “Can- can I have it now, please, please?”
Minho nods, his cheeks blazing red. He’s losing his composure. “Yeah. God, yeah, kitty. You can have it, c’mere,” He sighs, finally pushing the head of his cock inside of you. It slides inside easily with the wetness of your pussy and the mess you’d made on him, his thick shaft stretching you out and making you moan out for him. You catch sight of Minho’s eyes rolling back into his head, a long, drawn out noise leaving his lips. “Fuck, this is so fucking dirty. You’re filthy, letting me do this.”
No. You’re not, are you? Are you dirty? “Filthy?” You question, completely in bliss at the feeling of him finally inside you. You’ll be filthy if it means he’ll fuck you. Minho chuckles, and then his hips start to move, a sinuous grind against yours. The noises your pussy is making are beyond debauched, wet, slapping sounds from how soaking wet you are. You whine, bucking your hips up, and Minho lets you, gripping your hips to pull you off of the mattress.
“I’m gonna go harder, okay? I want you to take it for me, all of it,” His voice is close, leaning down to whisper it against the skin of your neck. You nod eagerly, and he pulls your thighs up to rest your ankles on his shoulders. The change in position has his cock hitting you deeper and you gasp, fingers moving to grip on his biceps. He sits back slightly, pulling you closer to him, and then he’s pounding into you. With little to no buildup, you can’t help but squeal, your pussy gushing around his fat length. “You love this, don’t you? My cock, covered in your piss, stretching your little cunt out. You love being filthy for me.”
“Hhnnfg, hhng, Min, Min, Min, you made me pee, you-”
Minho scoffs, hand threading into your hair. He wraps your hair around his fist and pulls, bent half over you while he pounds your pussy into oblivion. “Don’t make stupid fucking excuses for yourself. I can see it in your eyes, you love being like this for me.” 
You whine, tears brimming in your eyes again uncontrollably. You can’t do anything but just lay there, pliant and gripping onto his biceps for him to stretch your pussy out with his veiny fucking cock. It feels almost too good, too overwhelming. The ridges of his shaft are pressing against your walls, causing a delectable friction that has you clenching down on every outwards motion from him. It’s as if your pussy doesn’t want him to leave, and you don’t want him to leave, pulling him close by his arms every time he thrusts inside of you. 
Minho pushes your thighs apart, and then he’s bending you into a sort of mating press. Your legs rest on his upper biceps and his body folds you in half for him, making you whine at the stretch on your muscles. You’re loud, embarrassingly so, little “ah, ah, ah”’s leaving your mouth with every thrust. The change in position allows him to hit your cervix with his length, long and throbbing inside of you, and you’re only louder and more pathetic for him. 
“Can you hear that, kitty cat?” He whispers, and you hold your breath. Once you’ve stopped making so much noise, you can hear it - the sound of your pussy is even louder, wet and messy and when you look down, his cock is soaking with you. With your piss or your slick, you’re not sure, but it has you clenching down deliciously anyway. “I’m fucking your own piss into you, and you’re whining like a little bitch.”
You can’t even make sense of what he’s saying. Your previous slight fuzziness has morphed into full blown floating, and you think you’re crying, but you’re not sure. All you can hear is your own noises, loud and desperate while he ensures your pussy never forgets the shape of his cock. “Ah, ah, I don’t- sir, I don’t, I can’t, I don’t know- ah, oh, I can’t-”
“Ah, fucking hell,” Minho hisses, gritting his teeth. You watch in disappointment as he pulls his cock out of you, forming a tight ring around the base with his fingers. “I need to cum inside you. I need to give you your milk, kitty cat, c’mon. Flip over for me.” 
He tells you to do it, but helps you anyway. You feel his hands go to your hips to flip you over, and then you’re face down, and some part of you finds the strength to push your hips up to present your pussy for him. But, milk? You’ve been good enough for that?
He sinks back inside you, his cock slick and fat and too much for your little pussy. “There you go, jagi. Biiig stretch, feel it,” He moans, and you push your hips back on him easily. In this position, your lips are parted and you can feel yourself drooling up a puddle on the sheets. It adds to the mess, filthy with piss and slick and sweat, and you want Minho to lick it all up and spit it in your mouth. He immediately resumes his punishing pace, hips slapping against your ass with every thrust and hitting that delicious spot inside you so well. “Fuckin’ tight pussy, ah, it’s so good.” 
“H- haa, Minho, have I been good?” You question, eyes blurry and bottom lip slick with your own spit. Minho groans, deep and loud, reverberating through your whole body. He knows you need reassurance, and he nods, a little smile on his face despite his lust-filled, half-lidded eyes.
“You’ve been so good. So good I’m giving you my cum, yeah? Gonna breed that little pussy, filled it with your piss already, needs my cum now,” He’s babbling, which is a sure sign that he’s close - but you can’t even fathom it in your state. “Little girl, kitty cat, so good for me, c’mere.”
You don’t move, but Minho slinks one hand around your hip to rub at your clit. The added pleasure has you jolting with a whine, and Minho lets out an amused puff of air at your reaction. His fingers slide around your clit wet and imprecise, but it’s enough to have you hurtling towards your second orgasm. His cockhead slams against your g-spot, bordering on painful, but the sensation only adds to the throes of bliss he has you tumbling through.
“Min, Min, Min, it’s- ‘s so good, so good, so big, so- Min, Min, I g’ta-”
“You can cum whenever, jagi. Give it to me, I want it,” His voice is higher, more desperate, and you nod eagerly. He sidles over your back, his sweaty chest pressed to your skin, and then he’s pressing his lips against yours.
It’s less of a kiss and more of a messy exchange of spit and breathing into each other's mouths. Minho’s tongue slides against yours as he continues to rub messy circles around your clit, and before you know it, you’re cumming around his cock with a sharp gasp of pleasure against his lips. He swallows your noises, finally engulfing your mouth with his, and you moan and sigh freely through gushing all over his length, the electric feeling making your toes curl.
Minho envelops your hair tightly with his spare hand, thrusting harder and faster, his breathing becoming ragged as he approaches his climax. With a broken whine, you feel his cum fill you up, thick and hot and heavy.
He flops on top of you with a sigh, his body weight a welcome presence for you. You ignore the feeling of the sheets beneath you in favour of closing your eyes and humming contentedly. You’re still floating, but it’s calmer now, softer. It feels like you’re on a cloud. “So good, Min.” 
“Yeah?” Minho grins, his hand now stroking softly through your hair in favour of yanking on it. “You did so good for me, jagi. You were so, so good, made me cum so hard.”
“You made me cum hard, too,” You respond, opening one eye to see his face over your shoulder. His cheeks are flushed, hair sweaty and floppy over his eyes, but he has a blissed out smile on his face. When he catches sight of you looking at him, he smiles, and the sight of his bunny teeth has your heart singing. How can he look so cute after fucking you like that? Before you can say anything else, you yawn, and Minho giggles. “‘M sleepy.”
“Bath first, jagi,” He coos, kissing your hairline. “My sweet girl. Let’s get you nice and clean and then we’ll nap.”
“Mm, okay,” Minho hops off of you and you stretch out leisurely like a cat, your body sticky and defiled. You hear him tinkering around the room behind you, humming a tune to himself, and you smile fondly. “Love you, Min.”
“I love you too, sweet girl.”
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1-imaginary-girl · 1 year
Text
Wolf Bite Pt. 2
Klaus Mikaelson x Reader
Summary: Two weeks have passed since Klaus healed you and the two of you have gotten a lot closer. But when your friends find out about this, they have more than a few choice words for you. Reader uses she/her pronouns.
Warnings: angst followed by comfort
Word Count: 4755
Part 1
A/N: I've been excited to write this one, I love some good angst but with a happy ending. I might have made the gang a little meaner than I think they are but at the same time, I can see them doing this lol. Also I might want to do another part which shows the more romantic side of their relationship, since this one's kind of lacking, and also where the gang gets what they deserve so let me know if that's something you'd be interested in! I love reading your comments. Okay enjoy!
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It’s been a few weeks since you got bit by a hybrid. Since big bad Klaus Mikaelson saved you and told you he genuinely liked you. You’re still reeling from the incident and processing how you feel and what to do next. Your friends have been less than helpful.
That night, when your friends returned to find you no longer on your deathbed, they rejoiced for about 5 seconds. Joy quickly gave way to confusion and suspicion as they wondered how you were suddenly okay. Although a part of you wanted to keep Klaus’s visit to yourself, to keep that little moment untouched, you knew you had to tell them. Their reactions were not what you were expecting.
The group immediately scolded you for letting Klaus into your house. They were convinced that it was part of a larger scheme to have access to your home, with only Elena and Bonnie trying to argue that maybe he did it because he liked you. You felt reassured until they were eventually convinced otherwise. 
Of course, when you tried to explain how you felt and that he wanted nothing in return, no one believed you. That was the first time you felt real anger towards your friends. Not only did they leave you to die without even trying to ask Klaus to save you, but they were blaming you for saving yourself. Your anger was not met with sympathy as the group began to guilt-trip you, reminding you of all the horrible things Klaus has done and shaming you for defending him. After a while, you gave in to their words and let the anger go like you usually do. Well, not all of it.
The only person who truly made you happy these days, was the man in question. The only one who seemed to care if you survived. But more than that, he cared if you lived.
The morning after his visit, you awoke to discover that Klaus had left you his phone number along with a message that read: So I can do a better job of reminding you ;). You immediately remembered what he meant and it made you smile.
Since then, you and Klaus had been texting every day. He continued to check up on you and send good morning texts and you began to open up to him, sometimes being the person to text first. You feel like you have nothing to hide with Klaus and that you can be yourself without worry. You’ve learned a lot about the hybrid through the texts. For example, he can be really funny and will make horrible puns to make you laugh. You feel comfortable joking around with him.
Also, as promised, he has continued to shower you with compliments which make your day. You also start to believe his words and gain a little more confidence in yourself. 
Overall, you feel like you have become a lot happier since texting him, as well as hanging out more with Rebekah. The female original had also taken a liking to you at the start and your friends aren’t as opposed to you being friendly with her, although they don’t know how often the two of you hang out.
She was absolutely furious to hear about the hybrid bite incident and she blamed your friends more than her brother (although not completely absolving him of blame) for bringing you into their danger. She insisted that the two of you hang out more so she could look out for you which warmed your heart.
With your time being taken up by the Mikaelson’s, you find yourself drifting away a little from your friends. You don’t tell them about your friendships with the Mikaelson’s for obvious reasons and because you know they’d never believe you. They’re still cautious around you, suspicious that having Klaus’s blood in you might have changed your allegiance somehow like his sired hybrids. Personally, you think that’s ridiculous and doesn't make sense. You barely even talk about them when you’re with Klaus or Rebekah. But you also don’t want to add to their superstitions.
Still, you feel a little guilty for not seeing them as often, so when you hear from Bonnie that the group is meeting at Elena’s house to discuss some new problem, you decide to tag along.
Now you find yourself in the same position as always, standing in a corner listening to the group discuss plans while they ignore your presence. Not that you’d have anything to say. The discussion is over what to do with Alaric and his other half, but frankly you start to tune them out. You just wanted to hang out as normal friends, not as supernatural creatures facing another threat.
Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You pull it out to see a text from Klaus: Hello beautiful, want to meet up for a bite to eat? 
Then he sends another text: Of the human variety, of course ;)
You smile and shake your head. You text back: I’m hanging with my friends, remember? The distraction is welcome as you wonder how long this meeting would take. You wonder if you should ask the girls to hang out after it wraps up. You haven’t had a girl’s day in a while. Although the thought of asking makes your palms sweaty and your stomach flip.
He texts: Aw, but wouldn’t you rather hang out with me? I promise I’ll be more fun.
You bite your lip to constrain your grin. You text: That’s not the point.
He immediately replies: Ah, so you don’t disagree?
You can’t help the small chuckle you let out. Unfortunately, the noise draws the group’s attention to their neglected member.
“Something you’d like to share with the class?” you hear Damon say. At first you don’t think they’re talking to you, but when the silence drags on, you lift up your eyes to find them all staring at you. Your cheeks quickly heat up.
“N-no, sorry,” you say, trying to remember what they were talking about to pretend as if you were paying attention.
You catch Caroline narrowing her eyes. “Who were you texting?” she asks and you stare at her shocked. You don’t know how she knew, or maybe she guessed, but your panic rises nonetheless.
"No one, nobody, uh—a classmate," you scramble to come up with a lie but you’ve been put on the spot.
“I don’t buy it,” the blonde says. You become too caught up in trying to figure out a way out of this awkward situation that you don’t notice the flurry of movement until it’s too late. Caroline speeds over and swipes your phone from your hand before you can react.
When her eyes meet the screen, they widen and your stomach drops. You speed over to her and grab the phone back before she can read your private messages, but the name of the contact had already been revealed.
“You were texting Klaus?!” Caroline yells, her confused and angry look quickening your anxiety. Unfortunately, this only causes a chain reaction within the group.
“What?”
“What the hell Y/N?”
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
A bunch of angry voices shoot your way and you’re too overwhelmed to respond properly. Still, you make an effort by saying, “I can explain—” But they just talk over you.
“Why are you texting him?” Elena asks which quiets the group as they wait for an explanation. Your throat dries up but you try to clear it.
“W-well, he left his phone number the night after he healed me—” 
“Of course he did!” Damon exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. You begin to feel frustrated that they won’t let you talk.
“He’s just been checking up on me,” you say. It's not entirely the full truth but you’re trying to diffuse the situation.
“Y/N, Klaus is extremely dangerous. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,” Stefan says in a softer tone that only makes you feel talked down to.
“He has done nothing but terrorize us since his murderous family moved to town!” Caroline yells, not at all softening her voice.
You clench your fists. “I know he’s done bad things, believe me I do, but he’s started to open up to me. I think he’s more complex than you guys think,” you say, finally speaking your piece. When you’re met with incredulous looks, you try to reason with them. “It’s not like everyone here is perfect or hasn’t done evil things.”
“Oh my god, you actually believe him,” Damon says, in disbelief and with a condescending smile. “You actually believe that he’s in love with you.”
Tears prick at your eyes at the implication and you look at the ground. “Damon,” Bonnie hisses. But it does nothing.
“No, I’m sorry, but you’re an idiot if you believe that. Klaus doesn’t have a heart to give,” he continues. He shakes his head with a laugh. “I mean, I bet he’s just been manipulating you to tell him our secrets.”
Your anger grows but that last sentence seemed to strike a chord in the group and the energy in the room suddenly becomes tense. “Wait, Y/N, please don’t tell me you’re in love with him,” Elena says in a concerned tone.
“Have you been spying on us for him?” Caroline asks. And just like that, the group’s paranoia brought on by the wolf bite resurfaces in full force as they all give you suspicious looks. You don’t believe this.
“God, no, you guys aren’t listening! We are just friends, and we only text each other,” you say, practically pleading with them to hear you out. But your anger remains boiling below the surface. “And we don’t even talk about you guys! Do you honestly think I would betray you that quickly?” You try to meet each of your friend’s eyes to get them to see rationally.
“Y/N, I think you’re making a huge mistake,” Elena says, completely avoiding what you’ve just said. You stare, shocked.
“We’re just trying to look out for you; he’s only going to hurt you in the end,” Bonnie pipes in.
“Yeah, so why don’t you go ahead and end this before you do something you regret,” Damon says. All of their words circle around in your head and suddenly you lose control of your fury. You can’t help it. You snap.
“Oh my god, just shut up!” you yell. “You guys have no idea what you’re talking about. Do you have any idea how miserable I have been for the last few months? All of you have slowly started to ignore me and cut me out of this group and I felt so alone. Now, I’ve finally found someone who has noticed me and who makes me happy, even if that person is Klaus, and you have the gall to stand there and tell me that he’s the one who’s going to hurt me? That you’re ‘looking out for me’?”
You breathe heavily, staring at your friends as they digest your words. But of course, Damon is the only one to open his mouth.
“You’re so naïve,” he scoffs. You glare at him.
“Am I Damon? Tell me, of the two of you, which one saved my life while the other stood back and was willing to let me die.” You look at all of your friends with burning tears in your eyes. “You were all just going to let me die.” A few of them have the decency to look ashamed. You shake your head and say the thing you’ve been holding back for weeks. “The Mikaelsons have been better friends to me in the past few weeks than you guys have been in years.”
A heavy silence coats the room. You feel a weight lifted off your chest. You had been quietly holding on to that anger, that resentment, for too long now. Maybe that’s what’s been keeping you from your friends. Maybe now that the truth has been laid out, you can start to rebuild. Your hope is quickly shot down.
“Well then, why don’t you go join their family? Because you are no longer welcome in this group,” Damon says. The sombre words make your anger fizzle out. Your jaw drops in shock and you find yourself struggling to breathe.
“That’s not true—” Bonnie says, glaring at the Salvatore.
“No he’s right,” Elena says. One of your closest and oldest friends, someone you’ve known since childhood, now looks at you only with disdain. “It’s them or us. And it’s clear which side you’ve chosen.”
You shake your head silently as a tear rolls down your cheek. The reality of the situation is quickly crashing down on you.
“You should probably go now,” Caroline says. You take that moment to meet each of your “friends” in the face. You silently plead with them to say something, to stand up for you, to fight for you. But it’s clear that that’s not going to happen. You’re either met with a glare or they won’t meet your gaze at all. You hold yourself together and, somehow, find the courage to walk away from them.
When your hand reaches for the doorknob, you hear Damon say, “Don’t be surprised if they don’t want you either.” You freeze. You take a deep breath and leave the house.
No one comes after you.
†††
Your feet carry you past your house. You don’t want to be in an empty home right now. But you also have no idea where to go. A hole is burning its way through your chest as the devastation from your friends wreaks havoc on your mind. The thought occurs that you could go to the Mikaelsons but you immediately shut that down. You hate it, but your friends words continue to hold sway over you. You start to convince yourself that they wouldn’t want you either.
You walk until you reach the edge of the woods and keep walking. Tears continue to trickle down your chin but you haven’t let your feelings out. Hidden from the town, you spot a fallen log and decide that’s as good a place as any to cry.
You slump down and take one deep breath before releasing the sobs that have been building in your chest. The world goes dark as you bury your head in your hands. What have you done? You single-handedly isolated yourself from the group. And you now feel utterly lost as you realize how dependent you have become on the group to define who you are. What use do you have now that you’re alone?
Dark thoughts continue to swirl over you as the tears rain from your face. You can’t go on like this. Maybe you should just go back and apologize to everyone. Just as you consider that option, your ears perk up at a distant sound. You bite down on your lip to silence your sobs as you listen for what you heard.
A twig snaps near you and your breath catches. You whip your head to the right, preparing yourself for the worst, when your eyes catch those of Klaus Mikaelson. A part of you feels better at the sight. Another part can't get what your friends said out of your head.
“Y/N?” he says, his face questioning. You try to quickly wipe away the tear tracks from your face, but it’s no use. When he takes a better look at you, his expression drops and he speeds over to you. “What happened?”
He’s on his knees before you. His eyes roam quickly over you, trying to spot any injury that might be causing you pain. You try your best to avoid the problem. “It’s nothing,” you say quietly, trying to keep the hurt from your voice. His concerned gaze indicates it did not work.
“It is not nothing,” he says, definitively. He waits for you to tell him, but you can see the wheels turning in his head as he tries to figure it out for himself. When you don’t speak, he does. “I don’t understand, I thought you were supposed to be with your fri—” His eyes widen when you accidentally choke on a sob, filling in the blanks for him. You watch through blurry eyes as a dark cloud descends onto his soft features. When he meets your gaze, his eyes are glowering. He lowers his voice. “Did one of them do something? Tell me who did this to you.”
Even in your broken state, you know his anger isn’t directed towards you. You don’t fear his reaction and instead try to explain. You shake your head as you say, “I was with them and…we got into a fight.” You bite down on your lip as a sob threatens to take over your speech.
This only further ignites the fire in Klaus. “Where are they? I’ll tear out their throats,” he growls, looking past you as if trying to look for them from here. 
You lower your head, avoiding his reaction when you whisper, “It was my fault.” From the corner of your eye, you watch Klaus focus his attention back onto you. His anger melts into concern.
“What?” he asks, his voice returning to a softer tone. You lift your head and meet his worried gaze.
“It was my fault.” Your voice trembles and a tear rolls down your face. Klaus’s face becomes contemplative as he slowly wipes the tear from your cheek. Then he moves to sit beside you on the log.
“Tell me what happened, love.” He patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts. You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself and Klaus places a hand on your back in support. You send him a small, grateful smile before it drops.
You shift uncomfortably as you try to think of a way to begin. “Well…it kind of started because I was texting you,” you say awkwardly. His eyes widen and you see guilt cloud his features. You reach out and drape your hand over his to silently reassure him that he has nothing to feel guilty about. He brightens and you find the strength to continue.
“Um… they found out that I’d been talking to you and…they got angry with me,” you say slowly dredging up the conversation in your head. Your eyes begin to well with tears again and Klaus squeezes your hand. “They…they told me how you were a bad person and that I shouldn’t be seeing you.” You don’t see Klaus’s jaw clench as he looks away from you. “But I told them that that’s not how I see you.” His eyes return to you and he can’t help himself from interrupting.
“It’s not?” His words catch you off guard, specifically the shock and insecurity in them. You look at him and furrow your eyebrows.
“Of course not,” you say and he parts his lips in surprise. You think you see his eyes start to tear up but that could’ve just been you. 
Then he clears his throat and says, “Sorry, continue.”
“They…they told me that I was an idiot for thinking like that.” Klaus’s feature harden once more. “They said that you’ve been manipulating me and that…that you would never actually like me.” 
“Y/N…” He says your name with concern, but you won’t look at him. You don’t want the truth, not yet.
“They kept saying how they were just looking out for me, how you were using me to spy on them, and that you would only hurt me. Nothing I was saying was getting through to them.” Your fists clench as you remember the anger from before. Klaus notices and his worry only grows. “I just…I snapped. I finally told them how I’ve felt neglected by them for months. How they’ve ignored me time and time again and that I was finally happy for the first time in a long time. That’s because of you and your family.”
If you were paying attention, you would’ve seen Klaus’s face glow and his heartbeat speed up. He looks at you so intensely that his gaze could burn a hole through you. He looks at you like you are a beautiful light created just for him. Of course, his anger still burns strong at hearing your so-called friends treatment of you, but he never thought that he would be your light. But of course, you didn’t see any of this.
Your body deflates as your anger is overpowered by sadness. “Then they told me I should just go ahead and join your family because they weren’t my friends anymore.” Your breathing stutters as more tears slip past your eyes. You faintly feel the squeeze of Klaus’s hand. “I watched as all of my friends turned on me and kicked me out.” With the pain reigniting, you can’t hold back your sobs anymore. “And now,” you choke out. “I’m alone.”
As soon as you finish talking, Klaus is quick to envelope you in his arms. You grip his shirt tightly and bury your face into his neck. He holds you just as tight, with one hand around your middle and the other delicately holding the back of your head. 
“It’s okay, you’re alright,” he whispers, continuing to hold you tight as you let out all of your emotions. He continues to whisper reassurances until sobs stop wracking through you. He waits until your breathing has returned to normal before gently pulling away. Your grip slips away as you sniffle, trying to recompose yourself. But he only pulls away enough to place his hands on your shoulders. 
You reach up to get rid of the wetness on your face, but his hands beat you there. As his hands gently brush away your tears, you focus your attention on the man in front of you. The two of you are only inches away and your breath hitches with the realization. You’re suddenly embarrassed that he’s seeing you like this, and you’re sure your face looks like a complete wreck. But he only continues to look at you with concern and empathy.
His hands return to your shoulders as he offers you a small smile. “Okay?” he asks and you nod your head, sniffling one last time. He nods, his smile remaining as his hands fall into his lap. You notice, though, that he makes no move to distance himself from you. His smile slips from his face as a somber look replaces it. You’re afraid of what he’ll say with his face looking so worried.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you, love,” he says. Then his eyebrows furrow. “But, why do you say that it’s your fault?”
You are not expecting that question. Your eyebrows rise in surprise. “Oh,” you say, trying to answer without dredging up anymore intense emotions. “Well, I started the whole thing.” That answer does not satisfy the hybrid as he continues to look at you. You start to become nervous. “I mean, I knew how they felt about you. And I ignored them.”
“Do you regret getting to know me, then?” he asks trying to keep up his indifference, but a wall is built nonetheless in preparation of your answer. You only widen your eyes.
“What? No, of course not.” Klaus releases a small sigh of relief. You’re starting to understand what he’s hinting at, but you’re not prepared to listen and you scramble to come up with something to defend your friends. “But…maybe I should have told them instead of keeping it secret. Or, I shouldn’t have brought you up or—”
Two hands are placed on either side of your face as your bleary eyes meet his. He waits a moment before speaking. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You squeeze your eyes, trying to block out the truth. But his hands don’t move from your face. “Your so-called friends are the ones who are in the wrong.” You take a deep breath and meet his gaze. His lips quirk upwards. “You deserve so much better than them. You don’t deserve to be treated that way.” You open your mouth on instinct, but any words of defense die on your tongue.
“I just…they’re all I’ve ever known. I didn’t want to lose that,” you say instead, the reality of the situation settling slowly in your mind. Your panic and grief at losing them is melting into acceptance and, if you’re honest, a bit of relief.
“I know, love,” Klaus says with a sad smile as he lets go of your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish they had been kinder to you. But they haven’t been acting like friends. You shouldn’t have to defend yourself to them or fight to make yourself seen and heard.”
You nod along, looking at your hands. “I suppose,” you say, which makes him smile at your progress. 
“And you’re wrong, you know.” His words causing you to look up in confusion. “You are not alone. Not if you don’t want to be.”
“I don’t understand.” 
“You’re always welcome with my family and I, no matter what your friends say.” Your eyes light up.
“Really?” 
“Of course, love,” he chuckles, relieved to see hope return to your face. “We happen to like you very much and would love to see more of you. If you’d like that, of course.” 
“I’d love that!” you say, a bit too enthusiastically. You blush and clear your throat. “I mean…I think I’d like that.” Klaus laughs which brightens your smile. You take a deep breath and you suddenly feel much lighter. “Wow. I don’t remember the last time I’ve felt this good.” Your smile dips. “I guess my friends really were holding me back, huh?”
Klaus offers a sympathetic smile. Then he takes your hand and squeezes it. “Well that’s all in the past now, right?” 
You nod. “Right.” You look at him and giggle as something hits you. “I promise, I’m not always in this much distress.”
He chuckles along, but gives you a genuine look. “You’re allowed to have off days. I certainly do.” You laugh. You take in the beauty of the man sitting before you, the man who is supposed to be villainous and evil instead helping you feel light and happy.
“Well thanks for coming to my rescue for the second time.” The both of you smile, and you suddenly look at him seriously. “Seriously, thank you Klaus.” 
He blinks back his surprise as he takes in your serious features. He recovers with a smile. “Anytime love.”
A silence falls over the two of you, and as much as you’d like to spend forever in this moment, today’s events have both emotionally and physically drained you. You take a look around and notice the darkness of the woods. 
“It’s pretty late, huh,” you say, awkwardly trying to transition the conversation. Luckily, Klaus catches on quickly.
“I could walk you home if you’d like.” You almost reply with a yes, but then you hesitate. The thought of returning to an empty home, all alone with your thoughts again, doesn’t sound too appealing. “What’s wrong?”
You’re surprised that he noticed your hesitation. But you tell him the truth. “I just…I don’t want to be alone right now,” you say, avoiding eye contact as you can’t help but think of your statement as pathetic. Klaus’s face softens and he thinks for a moment.
“You could come home with me, if you’d like.” His gentle voice soothes your worries. At first, your cheeks heat up at the implication. And then your anxiety causes you to spiral.
You turn to him with wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to imply that I should come over—I mean I’d love to, I mean I just wouldn’t want you thinking that I was seeking your attention or anything—”
He shuts you up by placing both hands on your shoulders again. You guess he noticed it helped the last time. You stop talking and look at him to see a calm expression. “I would be honoured to have you in my home,” he says with a smile. You release a breath of relief as a smile creeps onto your lips as well. “Besides,” he drops his hands. “I’m sure my sister will be happy to have another girl around.”
You laugh at his statement, your anxieties slipping away for the moment, just as he had hoped. Klaus stands up from the log and offers you his hand. “How about it, love?”
You look from his smile to his hand and then back again. You bite your lip to try to contain your excitement. “Okay,” you say, and you take his hand.
* * * * *
Those who asked for a second part:
@marauders-luv @hyperactivewhore @elijahslittleprincess @bellarkeselection @vickymendes30 @susannahmikaelson
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chuuyrr · 1 year
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TO THE STRAY.. CATS? — DAZAI OSAMU
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╰➤ CW(s): gn! reader, strangers to lovers with him falling first and falling harder, fluff/romance, and mentions of karma
╰➤ SYNOPSIS: in which dazai finds interest in a citizen who feeds stray cats near his workplace
inspired by: gorgeous, lover, and karma by taylor swift !
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"well, if it isn't you again!"
you gently raise your head, blinking obliviously at the young man in a long sandy coat with unkempt brown hair looming over you as you crouch down with some sardines in your palm, just outside the cafe uzumaki.
"me again?" you ask the man, tilting your head, with a sheepish little soft grin that made him feel strangely warm inside.
"yeah, you!" dazai exclaims with a playful tone of voice, a smile on his lips and a finger pointing at you, "i keep seeing you around outside my workplace feeding the cats around here."
you were, certainly, the same person he kept seeing outside the building where the agency office was, feeding stray cats in the area.
and it was all thanks to ranpo, who mentioned how stray cats had been appearing around the area more frequently, and that if it hadn't been for his super deductive ability, he would have assumed it was because of their president, fukuzawa, but instead, it was you, going up and about to them with sardines or kibbles readily available.
as dazai called you out, you let out a soft chuckle, and the sound of your sweet laughter rang in his ears like bells, "i guess it really is me."
"so, you must really like cats, huh?" dazai asks, crouching down in front of you, copying your position, his eyes observing you tenderly as you reach out to pet one of the kitties you'd been feeding.
"mhm.." you hum softly, nodding your head and chuckling once more as another cat that you had been feeding meows and approaches you. it purrs as it rubs its head against your leg.
"and it seems that they like you as well.." dazai giggles quietly, "how strange."
"strange?" you raise your head to face him again, tilting your head and smiling sweetly.
"yeah, strange," dazai affirms with a nod as he briefly turns his attention to the stray cats that were rubbing, meowing, and purring gently against you as if you were their loving owner, "cats have an unearned reputation for being cold and unloving, you know?"
"really, now?" you ask, still carrying a sweet smile that dazai was having trouble looking away from now.
"well, that's because they display affection differently than dogs and they tend to be meaner, at least that's what people say," dazai says before glancing down at the stray cats swarming you that were being affectionate and friendly, "but that doesn't seem to be the case at all, especially with you."
"you know what i think, though?" you remark softly as you start giving more sardines and kibbles to the stray cats, "cats are actually adorable, clumsy, and fun to be with."
"and that's what makes you like them?" dazai smiles at your words.
your following remarks, however, catch him off guard, "yeah, but i mostly like how cats are sensitive creatures too.. cats are karma after all."
dazai's eyes widened in astonishment, clearly and really taken off guard by your innocently sweet comments, which had morphed into something even more serious yet still engaging.
"be kind to cats, and you get kindness in return, just like this.." you explain, gently stroking the cat's body with a delicate carress as you look up to him, "be unkind, and well, cats become unkind to you too, like bite and scratch you. basically, what goes around, comes around."
dazai's breath hitched as your lovely [color] eyes ever so slightly narrowed while sparkling with a mysterious yet alluring gleam in them as you continued to speak your mind out, "cats know a person's heart like no other."
"wow.. i was definitely not expecting that," dazai exhales, amused at your choice of words, "so you're saying, karma is a cat?"
"karma is a cat indeed," you reply with a firm nod, giggling softly as you stand up on your feet after crouching for so long, prompting dazai to do the same, "but hey, that's just a rambling from a crazy cat person like me."
"hey, i might have never heard someone describe and see cats like that in a very deep sense before," dazai laughs softly, shaking his head at you, "and i might not be a cat either, but i can sense that you're a really interesting one, and a kind one too."
"well, aren't you a charmer?" you join his laughter, smiling at his words, "you're too kind."
"and you're too pretty." dazai whispers so quietly that you didn't catch that.
"huh? did you say something, mister?"
"nothing!"
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dazai couldn't help but daydream more frequently at work since finally speaking with you, much to kunikida's dismay.
he's been acting strangely since he found out about you and starting seeing you around the region, which his yosano-sensei and ranpo would find hilarious and lovely.
there's simply something so enticing about you, in a positive way. you always had this beautiful glow with you whenever he watched you from afar, even if you weren't feeding stray cats and were just roaming around the neighborhood.
dazai would constantly sigh with his hands on his cheeks as he looked out the window, waiting for you to come around the corner so he could walk up to you and talk to you while you fed stray cats literally with hearts in his eyes, and he would even hurry downstairs to the first floor as soon as he saw you.
all of this may sound strange, but in reality, dazai was madly in love with you, so much so that he finds himself acting like a high school boy with a tremendous infatuation.
however, it makes dazai so happy that it makes him sad at the same time as well. you were just so gorgeous—so beautiful in his eyes.
you were a person with a kind heart and an open mind who sees the world in such a different but entirely fresh light, and dazai just can't help but want to be closer to you and just follow you wherever you go.
even if it's to the stray cats.
having said that, perhaps dazai was mistaken, especially given the manner he was behaving towards you. maybe he is more of a cat now.
he'd drop everything and trail after you like the stray cats you'd feed, eager to spend time with you, and even going out of his way to be a gentleman to you, carrying your bag for you while you went onto feeding cats, opening up the packet of cat food you had with you when you had trouble doing so.
even going out of his way to rescue a stray cat you found and pointed in the middle of the road in a panic.
at this time, dazai was also doing it for the stray cats, but he wasn't complaining. he's not a dog person and prefers cats in reality, but he really enjoys being able to do all of these things with you.
he was also typically confident and charismatic, but it didn't mean he didn't have doubts. in fact, dazai has them again when he recalls the things you told him when he finally had the courage to speak to you.
cats know a person's heart like no other.
and those words played over and over in his head like a broken record.
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"[name], i'm not sure about this."
dazai can't help but be nervous as he crouches down in front of an orange tabby cat you two had come across around the area, putting out his palm, which held the few cat kibbles you had given him.
"it's just a cute little stray," you giggle at dazai.
"that's not why.." dazai tells you with a sheepish laugh. that's not what he's nervous about.
he genuinely enjoys spending time with you. he really does, but, to return to your remarks, he wasn't yet a good person. his blood was as dark as an empty void—at least, that's what dazai initially assumes until the cat walks up to him.
he tenses up a little when the cat's soft snout nudges his fingers, which feels ticklish, and instantly finds himself gasping in awe when it starts eating the cat kibbles he had in hand.
all of his doubts and hesitancy are washed away by a sensation of relief and peace as the cat purrs and nudges its head against his fingers after meowing and eating the food in his hand.
dazai's eyes light up as he looks at you with his mouth slightly parted, "i'm a cat whisperer now!"
with the cat approaching dazai and accepting the cat food he put out for it, he starts smiling ever so joyful and honestly like a child on christmas day, and you couldn't help but find it absolutely adorable of him.
"looks like you are now!" you say with a rather proud looking smile at him.
"it really likes me!" dazai exclaims, returning his gaze to the cat, who was still pushing its head on his fingers.
he then began petting and speaking to it with giddiness just like how you would to a typical cat, "hi, cat! hi! you're so friendly!"
"of course the little fella does," you giggle, squatting down next to dazai before tilting your head and continuing to grin lovingly at him, "cats are sensitive creatures, remember? it definitely knows you're a good person."
he blinks at your words, "it does?"
"yeah," you reply, reaching out your hand to pet the orange tabby once dazai has done so.
"I see.." dazai's eyes softened as he watched you smile and coo at the orange tabby he had fed with the cat kibbles you'd given him earlier.
as dazai watches you and cat interact, his smile grows larger and more genuine, and his heart begins to skip a beat.
perhaps he had already found it, slowly but surely—the light he had sought out since abandoning his old ways as dazai spent this very modest and domestic moment with you.
this opportunity to be so near to you, to indulge in something so endearing as this. he loved it.
but then dazai's phone goes off, surprising both you and the cat he was feeding.
"ah, crap. sorry! let me just take this real quick," dazai says quickly with wide eyes.
"no worries. go ahead," you reply softly, waving your free hand that wasn't caressing a cat.
dazai pulls out his own flip phone, already expecting a call from an angry kunikida, who will reprimand him and make him come back to do his pile of reports, but it was atsushi instead.
he then answers the incoming call instead of declining, and to his surprise, the work he assigned atsushi ends up being successful, as it went swimmingly more than he had predicted, with no casualties or damages, which was actually quite strange.
aside from that, atsushi had also called in to inform him that he had completed the stack of reports for him. meaning, there was no more paperwork waiting for him at the office either.
you glanced at dazai from the corner of your eye as he talks on the phone with a coworker before a pretty pleased smirk tugs on your lips as you continue to pet the orange tabby cat.
"everything alright?" you ask with an innocent smile as dazai finished answering his call.
"mhm, it's just my co-worker," dazai tells you with a smile on return as he puts his phone away, drawing his attention back to you.
"well, that's nice," you hum before tilting your head at him, your innocent gentle smile widening with anticipation.
"what are you smiling like that for all of a sudden, cutie?" dazai raises a brow at you.
"well, it's getting late, but i still have some cat food on me," you giggle at the sudden pet name from dazai as you speak, tapping your cheek with your index finger.
"and what about it?" dazai smirks, already knowing exactly where this was going.
"it means it's time for me to go look for more stray cats," you say, tilting your head with that same smile, "unless you want to come along?"
"is that your way of asking me out?" dazai jokes, his cheeks blushing slightly.
"well?" you ask him back, your smile growing wider as your cheeks begin to blush as well.
"oh, please, you already know the answer, my love," dazai shakes his head as he approaches you, already wrapping his arm around your waist and smiling as he puts his lips to your ear.
"i would follow you to the stray cats and back."
"to the stray.. cats?"
"and back."
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karma is a cat allows its user to induce karma, which can be a blessing or a curse that may or may not include the bending of reality, but it is highly dependent on the target's course of action and the sincerity of the heart around the user.
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stardustlixie · 4 months
Text
hyunjin, the heartthrob
[pairing: fem!dom!reader x sub!hyunjin]
[warnings: smut, degradation (like a lot), mean reader, lowkey pathetic hyunjin, dumbassery, confusion about feelings, angry sex (kinda?), unprotected penetration (don't do this), choking, hair pulling, bondage, cunnilingus, light slapping (like twice)]
[REPOST FROM MY DELETED SMUT BLOG]
[author's note: i can't do this anymore, the grip he has on my brain is insane. this is kinda weird?? read at your own risk lmao, not responsible for the brain damage, pt.2 might be written?]
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hyunjin as the type of guy to be the uni heartthrob annoying you for no apparent reason. he keeps following you around, trying to talk to you, even tho your replies make it quite clear that you want him gone. you're the quiet, scary and academic type and he's the loud, funny and popular type. the entire campus questions why he's following someone like you around, but they're afraid of saying anything because his friends always keeping lurking, glaring down anyone who tries to question him.
even tho his friend group looks quite intimidating in the distance, they're just a bunch of dorks. and so is he. but with a massive crush on you. he finds you quite scary tho, your almost neutral expression and no bullshit attitude intimidating most people that come your way. he saw just a glimpse of your kindness once, when you baby-talked to your friend's cat, he almost lost it. but he mostly sees your other side, the undefeatable one that shows in the debates in your sociology class that he sneaks in to watch, the mean one that you once used to make someone cry when they targeted your bestfriend.
he gets off to that meaner side of you, that's his dirty little fantasy. he wants to be degraded by that side and be used for your amusement while he's unable to do something to help himself, and your softer side to soothe him afterwards.
but that just stays a fantasy.
until..
you're in the library one weekend, just to return some books and pick up new ones for your research, you walk out to the corridors to see none other, than hwang fucking hyunjin. he wasn't expecting to see you there, but he bursts into a smile, pulling his attention from whatever he had in his hands.
"hey, yn!" he waves at you, you shove your stuff into your bag and walk the opposite of his direction, also opposite to where you need to go. you can't do this right now.
it's not like you hate him, you think he's cute, you're beginning to get used to him following you, maybe you'd even give him a chance on a good day. but your day has been shitty enough as is. you can't bring yourself to interact with him just now.
"heyy, you didn't wave back." he jogs up to you and starts walking alongside you. oh how you wish he'd just be his own way for once.
he doesn't like your lack of reaction. you're not even sparing him a glace!
"come ooonnn, stop ignoring me!" he pouts at you with a whine all too dramatic.
"leave me alone, hyunjin" you hiss at him. you really don't wanna say something worse, but it's like he trying to........ provoke you? he's being much more pushy than he usually is, and there's no one in the corridors on a godddam weekend and you're very fucking close to snapping.
"ynnn!! pay attention to me!" he whines again, really wanting to provoke you. he's not blind, he notices you're not in a mood to be messed with. but a tiny, little parts of him wants to push you further, to maybe make you snap at him.
and when he crosses the line and touches your waist, you do.
you snap.
pushing him to nearest wall with some force, drawing his breath out of his lungs. you pin him there and your anger flows out, in sharp, hurtful words.
"the fuck do you think you were doing? what makes you think you can touch me? is this another dare from your group of fuckboys? or are you just a little attention whore who thinks he's entitled to everyone?"
you didn't mean a word you said, your anger was making up stuff on it's own, but he was flushed, a wild red on his face, that's when your gaze dropped to the floor, looking at whatever he dropped when you shoved him. you lean down to pick them up.
pictures. of you. not too many, not pictures taken by invading your privacy, but a few snaps of you in the corridors, or the canteen, or the library. times when you were fully aware he was there, from that one polaroid phase he had, he used to carry that thing around for a full two weeks.
the pictures flip something in you, you take your chances with him. you wanna test him, you know it's risky, but your brain isn't weighing it very well currently.
"god, hyunjin. look at you-" your voice drops an octave without you even realising it, and it does things to him that can't say out loud. you wave the photographs at him.
"-taking pictures of me like a little creep? so filthy. following me around like a desperate little slut. were you hoping to be discovered?"
you didn't expect him to be as affected as he was. breath uneven from your jump scare a second ago, ears red, with some of redness bleeding into his face, still affixed in the position you pinned him in. your leg shifts between his legs and his boner brushes against your thigh. what a surprise. he likes this. he looks away from you, but you turn his face to you with your forefinger, him gulping at the action. adorable.
"you really are an attention whore aren't you? following me around like that? clicking pictures of me? bothering me and hoping I'll take notice? pathetic." you tsk at him, he looks on the verge of tears but his boner says a different story, you experimentally press you leg over it, recieving a small whimper in return. yup, he's definitely enjoying this.
"you got hard just by me yelling and shoving you huh?"
he's torn, his brain sending him mixed signals, he's embarrassed, he wants to go back to his dorm and hide and never show his face to the world ever again. but he likes this, part of him wants you to humiliate him more, maybe do things to him that he won't be able to forget. and a part of him is even more embarrassed at the route his thoughts are taking.
you're not thinking straight. he's hot, you shouldn't be doing this, but some predatory instinct inside you wants to. you use him as a catalyst to get your mind off of whatever has been bothering you. it probably shouldn't be a big deal, he wants this anyway.
"tell me hyunjin, do you really think i don't notice? you think i didn't notice you staring at me when I was with Lin and her cat? do you really think i didn't see you when I had to drive that asshole away from her? you think i don't notice how you sneak into sociology and watch me from the corner? i do. how will you explain all that huh?"
fuck. he didn't think you noticed. he really has no explanation. he's fucked. you could report him, or worse, out him infront of everyone, you even have the photos with you. he should have thought this through. he's done for. he's pretty sure you're gonna report him-
"i'm sorry! please don't-"
"make up for it."
"w-what?" he's pulled out of his trance.
"well, since you've behaved like a pathetic slut, make up for it by actually being one. maybe then i'll forgive you"
he gulps, he would do it without second thought but he doesn't know if you're kidding or mocking him. he even has no idea how to say it, so he just sighs and nods.
"that's what i thought. follow me."
he follows you on shaky legs as you lead him outside of campus, and the next thing he knows, he's being pinned to the door of your apartment while you unbuckle his belt and whip it out of it's place. he has no idea what to expect when you detach yourself from him and seat yourself on the couch.
"come here." you order and he follows, walking over to you.
"strip." you say, he feels exposed under your intense gaze, even with you sitting down on the low couch while he stands in front of you, he feels like he's on display. he can't say he doesn't like it tho. so he puts on a show for you, peeling of each piece of his outfit one by one, jacket, followed by his shirt, then his pants, all in quite sultry a manner before he stops, only his boxers on, and looks at you uncertainly.
"off." is all you need to say before he's kicking them away, his erection springing free. you look at him for a good while, soaking in details of his body, pretty neck and collarbones, lean arms and torso and such a slutty waist, further down to his painfully hard dick, red and leaking, body supported by strong and pretty thighs. and for a guy like him, he has a big dick.
he's aware of your intense stare on him, suddenly feeling very conscious of his own appearance.
you get up from your place, his belt still in one hand, the other going to his shoulder, making him shiver before it glides to his back as you make your way behind him, gripping his hips and pressing your front to his back, as if to tease, making his breath hitch. you bring his wrist his wrists together behind his back and tie them together with his own belt.
"i'm giving you a chance to back out, i'll throw those pictures away and you can walk out like this never happened. do you wanna stop?" you whisper into his ear.
"n-no."
"good, then kneel" you smirk, pushing him down onto his knees and resuming your place on the couch.
you take a moment to admire how pretty he looks like this, kneeling infront of you with his hands tied back, breath uneven and so disheveled. so, so pretty.
as you take your pants off, his eyes fly to your covered heat, cute. you can't help but slowly press your foot down onto his dick, drawing a pained moan out of him because he's been neglected for so long.
you part your thighs and your eyes are enough to order him to get to work. he shifts to you and licks a long stripe on top of your wetness before you shift your panties to the side. he can't help but drool at the sight.
he starts working immediately, licking and sucking like a man on a mission. and he's on a mission indeed, a mission to prove himself somehow, because he knows this is probably the only time this is happening and he wants to make you feel as good as possible, make you remember him, because he sure as hell will never forget this. and certainly never forget the sudden moan from you as his tongue laps at your clit, noticing you're the most sensitive there. he keeps that in the back of his mind as he sticks his tongue inside of you, quite literally making out with your cunt. your hand comes down to grip at his hair, drawing a moan that vibrates straight into your core.
his tongue moves in and out of you while his button nose touches your clit with each movement, he pulls his tongue out only to attach his mouth onto your clit enveloping it in warmth and sucking on it, making you pull stronger at his hair before he resumes his work inside of you.
he's too good at this, it doesn't help that it's been a long while since you last did anything sexual.
you push him further into yourself by his hair and he moans right into you, the vibrations bringing you awfully close to your high. you release a breathy curse which motivates him to speed up.
when you cum, it is with slight spasms, chasing down the delicious feeling as your thighs close around him, burying him into you, almost suffocating him, but he keeps going nonetheless.
you yank him back by the hair to look at his drenched face, he finally catches his breath, making his chest heave as he looks up at you with hooded eyes. you give his face a slap, not too hard, yet he only moans at the impact.
"you like being slapped, slut?"
"y-yes" he nods as well as he can with the grip you have in his hair. you slap him, the redness resulting just adding to the erotic look on his face.
"up." you instruct, he stumbles up onto his feet with a wince and you move to free his hands. his wrists are red, almost bruised by how hard he's pulled against the belt.
you lay back on the couch, beckoning him over.
"fuck me." you order. "if you can that is." you add after seeing the uncertainty on his face, he nods frantically.
"i c-can."
he says he can, but he melts the moment his dick enters you, he's too sensitive, having waited for so fucking long.
"feels so good. fuck." he moans into your ear at the feeling as he hovers over you. he starts to move, his length stretching you out and drawing heavy breaths out of you by the sheer size, his tip touches your g-spot without much effort, hitting it repeatedly as he starts moving.
his arms shake at your sides, everything becoming too overwhelming for some reason, your warmth wrapped around him, the stimulation suddenly making his head spin.
"f-fuck... " the poor boy is trembling, voice slurring as his hips move in an erratic manner, although it's taking you time to get used to him, you take the chances you get to mock him. your hand moves to wrap around his throat like a necklace of sorts.
"you can't even fuck me, so pussydrunk already? i'll have to all the work myself huh?" he looks at you with glossy eyes as your fingers press down on the sides of his neck.
"please yn" he whimpers out, with no real context as to what he's asking for, his eyes screwing shut. his arms are barely keeping him up anymore, sweating and trembling like he'll fall.
"you're too fucked out to even use your brain huh? begging and you don't even know what for. it's okay tho, since that's all a dumb slut can do. i'll show you how you're supposed to make me feel."
you push him onto his back, getting a yelp in return and waste no time in grinding down onto him, resulting in a loud gasp from the boy. your hand finds it's way back to his throat. he lets go completely, hands falling to his sides and head pressing back into the cushions as he releases a string of broken moans while you ride him into oblivion.
"o-oh, fuckfuckfuck. oh god."
you laugh at his helpless sounds, suppressing your own becoming difficult.
"god isn't gonna save you here, baby."
that makes him let out a loud, almost sob like moan.
"please." he whines as his hips buck up in the slightest. you're getting closer with every passing second and it looks he is too.
"please what, sweetheart? want me to stop? because your pathetic self can't take it? or want me to fuck you dumb until you're left a babbling mess?" these words make him let out the loudest moan you've heard from a man. he really does get off on degradation.
"c-close. oh god, please. please. fuck." he's physically restraining himself from reaching out to you, hands grasping at whatever purchase he can find on anything around him.
"fuck. i'm close. you there? cum with me." you breathe out to him and he cums with a broken sob, his high hitting him like a train as his breath falters and his back arches beautifully, you keep moving throughout, riding out your own orgasm which hits in sweet waves, you keep going for a while after, just to overstimulate the boy a little, getting small, pained whimpers from him.
"c-can i touch you? please?" he asks, still in his post orgasm haze, his voice so adorably small that it makes you give in.
"go ahead." you say, expecting him to touch you tits or ass, but you didn't expect him to pull you body down to lay on top of him as you both catch your breath from your orgasms. he was holding on tight, like he'll fall if he let go. that little action did something to your heart but you pushed it back, not wanting to ruin the moment.
you originally planned to fuck him and kick him out, getting rid of those pictures anyway, but you think you don't mind if he stays for a while, you let him cling to you for a few minutes before the stickiness and stench of sex gets to you.
"hey, hyunjin? let's clean up hmm?" he makes a small noise but unwraps his arms anyway, but winces with you when you get off of his dick.
you pay no attention to his cum dripping out as you get yourself and him towels to clean up and put on some clothes.
he lets you drag him to the kitchen and accepts the water you give him, you're busy observing his features when his small voice snaps you out.
"i'm sorry." why is he apologizing? you find him looking down on the floor.
turns out he's sorry for clicking those pictures without your consent, it takes a while to convince him that you actually saw him taking those, just chose not to protest. well since you noticed him in places he didn't think you would, this didn't surprise him either.
you send him off with a warning not to die on the streets in a car accident.
fuck, you really need to get him out of your brain.
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he's gone and you suddenly remember you need to clean your apartment before Lin comes over, you rush to find a way to get rid of the very obvious smell of sex in your living room, while you clean your brain goes on autopilot with it's thoughts.
so he's clingy after sex-
wait, what?
405 notes · View notes
standfucker · 5 months
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Rotation
Characters: Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire
Reader: cis fem
Word Count: 24k
CW: explicit NSF.W content, recreation drug use, aphrodisiac, gangbang, oral (giving and receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, anal, voyeurism
Summary: After finally opening up to the crew, a recent personal victory has you all sailing to your home island to celebrate. However, you accidentally smoke the wrong strain, one thing leads to another, and you become the next object in the rotation.
Ao3 Link
Mesiba Island was famous far and wide for being a party island. Casinos, clubs, bars, brothels, even a natural hot spring–there was something for everyone. Liquor flowed like water, and drug laws were the laxest in all of the Grand Line. As your homeplace, you were used to the chaos and violence. Crimes of passion were commonplace, and death was regular news. 
Still, somehow you never expected it to happen to you.
A visiting pirate killed a close friend of yours, and by the time you’d heard about it, he’d fled the island. You were able to find out two vital things: He was heading further into the Grand Line, and he had a crew.
You were going to kill him. Of that, you were certain. But you also knew you couldn’t do it on your own. So, only hours after you’d learned of your friend’s death, you’d looked over the pirate crews that had currently docked on the island and approached the strongest one there.
“I want to join your crew.” You spoke firmly, standing tall, trying to show how serious you were.
“Oh?” Eustass “Captain” Kid looked down his nose at you. “Why should I let you?”
You gritted your teeth. “I want to kill someone who’s traversing the Grand Line. He’s got a crew. So I need to travel with one, too. And it needs to be a crew who’s not afraid to get dirty. The meaner the better.”
Kid wasn’t impressed. “And what makes you think you can handle sailing with us, pipsqueak?”
“I’m strong.”
“You’re puny,” Kid scoffed. He did have over a foot of height on you, but it didn’t scare you. Size difference was rarely an issue for you in fights. “And you use knives,” he continued, gaze falling to the rows of short blades strapped to your hips, “meaning you have to get in close range to your opponent, where you’ll get torn apart.”
“If they can keep up,” you argued. What you lacked in brute force, you well made up for in speed. “I can fight, Kid.”
The man cast a shadow as he leaned over you, narrowed eyes taking in your determined expression, assessing something–you didn’t know what. Then he smirked and stood up straight.
“Tell you what,” Kid jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward a man in blue who was almost as big as he was. A blue and white mask entirely concealed his face, thick blond hair spilling behind it that reached the back of his knees. Large hands curled around heavy metal gauntlets that were attached to wicked-looking scythes, currently folded back out of the way.
“If you can survive three minutes with Killer, I’ll let you join,” Kid said, looking smug. Like he thought you would be intimidated.
“Masquerade Rapunzel over there?” You glanced at the masked man. He was built a little leaner than Kid, but still impressive. Nothing you couldn’t handle, though. And if you couldn’t do this much, then how could you avenge your friend? You raised your chin confidently. “Bet.”
Killer ended up surprising you with his speed, but you were more agile. As a bigger target, he had to block your strikes while you needed to dodge his. The swings of those scythes packed a lot of force behind them, it was too risky to attempt to block. You were certain it would only take a single, direct hit to mortally injure you. But you were very good with your knives, and you were efficient above all else: your knowledge of anatomy taught you the best points to aim for on the human body.
Three minutes later, you’d stabbed Killer right below the chest. He almost decapitated you afterward, though, suddenly moving far more quickly than before. You jerked back at the last moment, and his blade tore you open to the bone, from your clavicle to your shoulder. Now second-guessing your chances of survival, you nonetheless prepared to strike back–and Kid called time. You and Killer were both hurting, but you were alive.
You expected them to be angry, but neither Kid nor Killer seemed bothered about either of the frankly concerning injuries. Moreover, Kid was impressed enough by the fight to honor his word. Their ship’s doctor patched you both up, and that night, you became the newest member of the Kid Pirates.
You didn’t open up for months.
You didn’t talk, much less hold conversations, and you mostly kept to yourself. Part of it was the fresh grief of losing your friend. Part of it was difficulty adjusting to the new lifestyle, having never sailed before. But mostly, you figured there was no point–after you got your revenge, you’d be parting ways with the Kid Pirates. It stayed in the back of your mind the entire time: This is temporary.
“Hey, Y/n, watcha doin’?” House paused by where you sat against the mast, your weapons laid out on your lap.
“Sharpening my knives,” you responded without looking at her.
“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”
“I like knowing they’re sharp.”
House glanced to the side, fiddling with her fingers. “...Oookay. I’ll leave you to it, I guess…”
And so it went. But months slipped by and turned to years, and living and fighting with the same people for that long had an effect that even your stubborn self couldn’t resist. It was in the way Wire dropped his coat onto you when you were shivering from an unexpected cold front, the garment gigantic and more like a blanket in comparison to you. It was in the way Killer found out your favorite food and served it for dinner after catching you crying one afternoon in the crow’s nest. It was in the way the girls in the crew drew you into their group (“us pirate girls gotta stick together!”) and let you jam with them on your off hours. Slowly, like a flower growing after the last winter, you opened up to the others’ warmth.
And heaven help them when you did, because once you got comfortable, you stopped censoring yourself. As you became friendly with the crew and got past your grief, your original personality started to shine through, and whatever thought came to mind was fair game. You started talking to the crew like you did to your friends back home–which, for Mesiba Island natives, typically meant being crass and lewd. You couldn’t help it, it was just in your nature. Maybe your original friend group took it too far, though.
Case in point: Heat looked over your shoulder at a letter you were writing one day, and commented on your (admittedly awful) handwriting.
“Can your friends back home even read what you send them, or do you all write like that?”
You replied without thinking. “Don’t bully me, Heat, I’ll cum.” 
Heat’s entire body flinched like he was hit, and he blushed all the way down to his neck, contrasting brilliantly with his tattoos. Completely disarmed, he opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words.
Oops, that might have been a bit much for him. For all that his appearance might suggest, Heat was one of the most reserved members of the crew. You just returned to your letter, adding the exchange to the list of things you were writing about. You’d leave out how cute the blush looked on Heat, though, saving that thought for yourself to enjoy privately.
Then there was the time Kid was having drunken arm wrestling matches with some of the guys. You slid into the seat across from him and propped your elbow on the table, equally inebriated and mostly joking–his arm was three times as thick as yours, after all.
Kid shot you a lazy smirk. “Don’t even bother. You’ll just be a disappointment.”
“You sound like my father,” you joked. “Careful there, Captain. I might develop a complex.”
Brow raising, he grabbed your outstretched hand, dwarfing it in his. “Sounds like you already have one.”
“It is what it is.” Your gaze dropped to his arm, to the flexing of the thick muscle rippling underneath the skin, a little too intoxicated to catch yourself checking him out. Kid didn’t miss it, looking smug.
He squeezed your hand, the strength behind his grip setting butterflies free in your stomach. “Give it your best shot, then, pipsqueak.”
You pushed with all your might, straining and struggling, even leaning your body weight into his arm like you weren’t supposed to. You barely made any headway, Kid’s arm only moving back a little bit. He just watched you through half-lidded eyes, unbothered, a small smirk showing his amusement at your feeble attempt.
Maybe it was just the alcohol warming your blood, but the struggle seemed to affect you a little more than it should have. You could have chalked up the pounding of your heart to the physical exertion of the attempt, and not the stark power difference so obviously displayed between you and Kid, but it would have been a lie. The way your gaze kept ending up on his massive arms was proof enough of that.
“Hmph.” Kid waited another minute, then slowly and easily pushed your hand down until it pressed into the table. He did not let go. “Weak.”
“Bleh,” you stuck out your tongue, even though you had fully expected the result. “Well, you don’t need a lot of force behind your attacks if your knives are sharp.” You patted the knives at your hip and smirked. “Flesh parts easily for the sturdy blade.”
Kid’s grip on your hand tightened a little, and you went rigid at the way his voice dipped low. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Y/n?”
“Intimately so,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks getting warm, the sensation of his hand over yours suddenly overwhelming. Unused to feeling shy, you quickly covered it up with banter. “While I also enjoy holding your hand, Captain, I’ll be needing mine back.”
Kid’s eyes widened before he let go, drawing his arm back a bit too fast. Got him.
You stood, deciding tactfully not to point out his reaction, instead offering him a sheepish grin. “Thanks for indulging me, anyway. G’night, Captain.”
Maybe you had imagined the faint dusting of red on his cheeks, but as you walked away, you were determined not to think about it. Teasing was fine with you, so long as it stayed strictly verbal–you had no business getting close in that sort of way with anyone, no matter how drawn you felt to them. There were a few people in the crew that you liked being around a little more than you should have. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that they were the only ones who could kick your ass, your brain immediately going to unsavory places whenever they bested you while sparring.
Technically it made sense, given that they were the strongest four: Kid, Killer, Wire, and Heat. You ranked fifth in terms of combat ability (though other crewmates had seniority over you due to experience,) earned one day after a long, exhausting match with Gig. You had barely come out on top, literally, by perching on his back and strangling him with his own necklace. You were certain you could at least handle Heat after that, but when you later challenged the fire-breather, it only took a short while before he had you pinned to the floor with a hand wrapped around your neck, your knives knocked out of reach.
Heat opened his mouth, curls of smoke rising out in threat, and you tapped out, trying not to think about the feel of his fingers around your throat.
“Okay, okay, you win,” you sighed in defeat. “Hurry up and let go before you awaken something in me.”
Heat pulled away quickly, blushing, though it could have also been from exertion. It looked good on him either way, even combined with the annoyed look he gave you. 
“You don’t even need to fight your opponents. You could just run that colorful mouth of yours, and they would run away,” he grumbled, offering you a hand.
You took it, and Heat pulled you easily to your feet. He must have still felt flustered, though, because he pulled a little too hard, making you stumble into him. He caught you, steadying you by the arms, and when your gazes met, you both froze, realizing how close you were.
Heat’s eyes flickered back and forth across your face, his blush deepening when he glanced at your lips. Suddenly the pounding of your heart had nothing to do with exercise. Caught off guard and anxious, you played it off the only way you knew how. “You gotta at least buy me dinner before talking about my mouth, sir.” 
Really, you weren’t trying to make it worse. You just couldn’t help yourself, always talking too much whenever you got nervous. The words only served to thicken the tension, the feeling of his hands on your arms exceedingly hot all of a sudden. His entire body seemed to give off heat, more so than usual, and your stupid mouth kept going, revealing every stray thought in your brain. “Oh, wow, you’re really warm. You’d make an excellent bedmate on a cold night.”
“I…” Heat found himself at a loss for words. He let go of your arms but otherwise remained frozen, and you wondered if he was picturing the same thing you were–the two of you curled up together, bodies pressed close, lazily breathing in each other’s scent. Maybe your hands would start to wander…
“Sorry. Forget I said anything.” You looked away, unable to harbor the thought while also meeting his eye, nervously rubbing your arm where he had been touching you. “Um, good fight, yeah? Maybe I’ll pin you next time. That would be an exciting change.”
Again with unintentionally making things worse. The sight of Heat’s Adam's apple bobbing with his swallow finally spurred you to leave, not wanting to twist yourself up in unnecessary desire any further if you could help it.
You were, to be honest, caught off guard by your attraction. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise–you knew what you liked, and they all fit the bill in their own way–but you had joined the crew during a grieving period. At the time, and for a long while after, you had felt nothing toward the crew, much less interest. The feelings snuck up on you as you came out of your shell, and they were getting increasingly harder to ignore.
The Victoria Punk anchored in a secluded cove one hot day, and most of the crew opted to go for a swim. You kicked off your shoes carelessly in your eagerness to join, each one landing on a different spot on the pile the crew left behind. Killer went to retrieve them, going to line them up neatly with the rest–one of his odd, compulsive habits–and the rare sound of his huff of suppressed laughter made you pause, his deep voice speaking up a second later. 
“What the hell is this?”
You turned around to see him holding up one of your shoes. Killer had bulked up significantly in the time since you’d set sail with the Kid Pirates, and the sight of the comparatively small item in the palm of his hand was, to be fair, a little ridiculous.
“My shoes?” You narrowed your eyes, having a feeling you knew where this was going and not caring for it at all.
“No way your feet are this small.” His head turned to you, mask tilting down, and you knew he was looking at your feet. You felt a strong urge to cover them, which was dumb–why should you feel shy about your feet, of all things? But Killer had inadvertently found something you were self-conscious about.
“Whatever! Stop looking, you weirdo.”
Killer was usually hard to read, even after knowing him that long. But right then, you couldn’t help but feel like he was enjoying getting a rise out of you, because he continued. “These are shoes for ants.”
“Shut up, Killer!!” You snapped, face flushing warm. “They are proportionate to my height, thank you very much! F–” You stopped yourself before a ‘fuck off’ slipped out, mindful of your rank. He wouldn’t appreciate the disrespect.
Killer noticed, though, as astute as ever. “What was that?”
From the tone of his voice, you could tell he was only messing with you, not actually upset. That only made it worse, though, your chest getting tight in response.
“Nothing! You didn’t hear anything.” You crossed your arms in a subconscious attempt to cover yourself, feeling exposed even though your swimsuit wasn’t revealing.
Another brief huff was audible from under his mask, and then Killer set down your shoe and approached you. He didn’t stop until he was fairly close, only a few inches separating your bodies, and you resisted the urge to step back, heart thumping in your chest as you looked up at him.
Killer rested a hand flat on top of your head, like he was measuring your height. You barely reached the top of his chest. In fact, you were at the perfect height to shove your face between his giant pecs, a thought that your brain took off with at an alarming speed before you could hope to suppress it. 
You made a face at him, trying very hard to look annoyed rather than affected.
“I suppose it makes sense,” Killer hummed, “given you’re so tiny.”
“I am not! I’m not even the shortest one on the crew!” you protested. “Of course everything would seem small to you! You’re stupidly huge.”
“Stupidly huge?” Killer repeated, that edge of amusement never leaving his voice.
“Yes,” you grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off your head, and paused at the sight of it. It was as big as Kid’s. Without thinking, you raised your other hand to press against his, comparing the size directly. “S-See? Look at these–these flippers of yours.”
Killer huffed again. You wondered why he never laughed outright, but it still made your heart pick up speed. Your hand looked like a child’s compared to his, each of his fingers an inch longer and far thicker–do NOT think about that right now, you thought sternly, desperate to keep your imagination under control. You could not ignore how the rough skin of his palm was pleasantly warm, though, nor how he curled his fingers over yours, calloused fingertips covering your nails.
There was a heat on your skin now that had nothing to do with the weather. You were quite literally in the process of losing your cool, which naturally meant running your mouth further. “I can’t believe the oven mitts in the galley even fit you,” you jabbed, drawing your hand away. “Were they custom-made?”
“You sound jealous,” Killer retorted, lowering his hand. “I think you just hate being short.”
You looked him up and down, and–heaven help you–before you could stop yourself, your gaze settled between his legs as you audibly stated, “Not always.”
Killer went quiet. You went quiet. The silence hung between you awkwardly, while you felt like your brain was coming to a rapid boil.
It was suddenly far too hot.
You opened your mouth. Closed it. And then turned, bolting straight for the port side of the ship and flinging yourself into the ocean, nearly taking out a crewmate because you didn’t look first.
Even with Killer’s face perpetually concealed, you couldn’t look at him for a week straight after that.
Your filter never really returned, which wasn’t usually a problem for you. The Kid Pirates were as crass a crew as any. You didn’t care about being suggestive, normally finding it funny more than anything else–but when it happened around those four, you would get uncharacteristically flustered, and attempting to hide it often led you to digging the hole deeper. Alcohol only made it worse, and there was enough of it going around each night to keep leading you to compromise your plans of keeping your distance.
When a party on the deck threatened to overstimulate you, you retreated to the crow’s nest, ascending carefully to minimize the loss of rum from your mug. Some still spilled out, but by the time you made it inside, you were pretty satisfied with your achievement, especially considering your current inebriation.
Unfortunately, the crow’s nest was already occupied. Fortunately, it was only Wire–one of the more preferable people to run into at the moment, considering his laid-back attitude and soft-spoken manner. He was bent over slightly where he sat in order to fit into the small room, his head grazing the ceiling, the horns of his hood folded down cutely.
“Ey, Wire,” you greeted. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” Wire looked at the mug in your hand and chuckled. “You know, climbing the mast drunk, while clinging to your booze, and not falling off–that, more than anything, really brands you as a pirate.”
“Who says I’m drunk?” You crossed the room, only swaying a little bit, and plopped onto the bench next to Wire. 
Wire paused. “Actually, you always speak so freely that I can never tell. Most of the time, anyway.”
“Hm. Probably not a good thing,” you mused.
“Is it? I kind of envy the way you so openly speak your mind.”
“Don’t. It’s a curse.” You grinned despite yourself. “But, for the record, I’m good and sloshed right now.”
“As am I,” Wire said, lifting up his own mug from where it rested on his other side. It was proportionate to him, the size of your head, large enough to hold over a gallon of liquid. “What brings you up here?”
“I could ask the same, what with you drinking alone.” You nudged his leg with your foot. “Things were getting a bit loud, so I needed a break, that’s all.”
“But you jam with the girls all the time?” Wire asked.
“Music noise and crowd noise are different,” you explained. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”
“Fair enough.”
“I usually don’t mind a little overstimulation,” you said thoughtfully, completely oblivious both to what you implied and to the way Wire subtly leaned toward you in interest, “but it’s worse when I’m drunk or high, so.”
Wire peered into your mug to gauge its contents, an easy task from his vantage point. “Are you that drunk?”
“Triple basted, as my friends back home would say,” you swirled the rum in your mug idly, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a Mesiban native, after all. Chaos is in our blood. We call ourselves ‘Messy’ for good reason.’”
Wire reflected your wry smile. “Do you miss them?”
“Of course! I think about them all the time.” You paused, smile fading as your fingers tapped on your mug. “When my friend was killed… I probably should have stayed home and grieved together with all of the rest. Have their support and support them in turn. And not, you know, impulsively join a pirate crew and wallow alone in misery for months.” 
Wire watched you stare into your mug for a moment, and then your smile returned full force as you looked up at him.
“But that’s okay!” you said cheerfully, “I would have never met all of you otherwise, so things worked out just fine in the end. I really feel like–and don’t laugh–I really feel like every person on this crew’s my friend, too.”
Wire’s smile widened. You certainly had come a long way over the last few years. He held his mug out to you. “To good friends.”
“Old and new,” you added, knocking your mug against his.
“Aye.” 
The thunk of the wooden mugs hitting each other was satisfying, and the deep drink you both took was even more so. You drained the rest of your drink in one go, then chucked the empty mug across the room.
“Ah, that’s good stuff. I feel fucking great,” you sighed, “now I just need a great fucking.”
Wire nearly choked on his drink, managing to get it down safely before he laughed. “Yeah?”
“Mm. Perfect way to wrap up the night. Drunk sex isn’t as good as high sex, but it’s better than no sex. Words of wisdom!” You waved a hand nonchalantly as your words slurred. “But I’m used to not getting any. Haven’t fucked anyone since I became a pirate. At this point, I’d be satisfied with the simple pleasures of a comfy blanket.”
Wire took in that information slowly, realizing that, for all your lewd dialogue, he had never actually seen you go hunting for flings when they were docked. He perked up at your last sentence. “Oh, are you cold?”
“Yeah.” Despite the alcohol in your system, you tended to run cold, and now that you had settled, you could feel the light chill in the air even from within the crow’s nest.
Wire wordlessly held open the side of his cloak, offering to share in his warmth.
Ordinarily, you would have hesitated, double-checking with him if it was okay. With your current blood-alcohol content level, however, there was no shame nor shyness to be had. You scooted over until you were sitting right up next to him, thighs touching, and he closed the cloak around you, enveloping you in the comfort of both his warmth and his scent.
“Better?” He asked.
“Much,” you leaned against him. “Thanks.”
His arm around your shoulders was solid and soothing, and you felt yourself melt into his body heat. He had a lot of it to go around, given his size. Your drunken thoughts began to charge away from you now that you were snuggled close to his body. As the tallest member of the Kid Pirates, he made even the biggest guys on the ship look tiny, much less yourself. Wire absolutely towered over you, easily twice your height. When you were both standing, you were at eye level with his crotch. You could have sucked him off while standing, a thought that occurred regularly, even after all this time. You never got used to it. But, god, would it even fit in your mouth? Was he proportionate? What if–
“You’re staring,” Wire noted, though he didn’t sound bothered.
You realized you had been staring at his crotch for a solid minute now. However, once again, all traces of shame had been replaced by booze.
“Women get objectified all the time. Now you know what it feels like,” you joked. “I’m evening the playing field.”
You could feel the rumble of Wire’s chuckle through his torso.
“Also, I bet it looks nice,” you continued. “I bet you got a job-hunting dick.”
Wire paused. “Job-hunting?” 
You pulled your gaze away from his crotch to meet his eye, a mischievous spark in yours. “Yeah. You know… Because you fill someone out, like an application.”
Wire laughed, accidentally hitting his head against the ceiling with how he threw his head back. He winced, still giggling, rubbing the top of his head while you apologized.
“Don’t apologize. I like that. ‘Like an application…’ Is that something your friends back home say?”
“Actually, House said it,” you grinned at his look of surprise, “and it’s stowed away in my head ever since.”
As Wire finished his drink, he wondered if he knew less about his crewmates than he previously thought. Setting the mug down on his other side, he looked down to see that you were watching him, focused on his eyes this time. 
“Have you really been celibate this whole time?” he asked.
“Yeah. I don’t like hooking up with strangers.” You shifted, settling further into him. “It was easier back on Mesiba. Had a small network of fuckbuddies, and people could vouch for their acquaintances. Mesibans have a reputation for promiscuity for good reason, but we took care of each other.”
“Sounds like a good time.”
“It wasn’t perfect, but I had my needs met,” you shrugged. “There are downsides to a culture like that, though. I lost my virginity earlier than I probably should have. And I might be a little too used to going out of my comfort zone in bed. But it’s fine, no big deal. Most of the memories are good ones.”
Wire hummed, but didn’t respond. His gaze shifted upwards in thought, and didn’t come back down until you nudged him again.
“What about you?” You asked. “I mean, a guy like you? Mr. Tall, dark and handsome? I bet you were rolling in bitches on your home island.”
“Rolling in ‘em?” Wire smirked to himself, and you wondered if he was also thinking about past dalliances. “I guess I’ve had my fair share of encounters. Enough so to consider myself experienced.”
This time, you went quiet in thought, and the silence that stretched between you was relaxed and cozy. Despite the myriad of unholy scenarios now running through your head, you still could have fallen asleep right there, wrapped in his coat and cuddled up close. A minute later, his deep voice broke through, something you could feel as much as hear with your head resting on his torso.
“You think I’m handsome?”
The question had an immediate effect on your body, your stomach doing a funny little flip while your heart picked up speed. It skipped a beat entirely when you peered up at him and saw the way he was looking at you now, eyes somehow both dark and burning.
Would you have lied if you were sober? You weren’t sure. You were never the shy type–until those damned four–but you were trying not to get too close. Alas, you were currently as drunk as a fish swimming in a lake of booze, and could be nothing but honest. 
“Yeah, I do,” you admitted.
Wire glanced away for a moment, smiling. “What a coincidence.”
“Hm?” You relaxed somewhat when his eyes left you, only to tense up when they met yours again.
“I think you’re cute.”
The heat that flushed through your body could have been blamed on the alcohol, but the force with which your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs could not. You were almost afraid that he’d be able to feel it. Not that it mattered–you were sure your face was an open book. His thigh, as big as your entire torso, pressed lightly against yours. For a second, you didn’t know what to say. Then you returned his smile, though yours wasn’t nearly as confident.
“That’s a relief. I get self-conscious sometimes.” You looked away, now shy even in spite of the alcohol–he just had that effect on you. “Hopefully I’ll remember that in the morning.”
With one massive finger under your chin, Wire gently turned your head to look back up at him.
Your breath caught in your throat. Wire leaned over you, filling your vision, probably not intending to block out the rest of the room, but unable to help it with his size. It meant you could see nothing but him now. Smell nothing but him, with his cloak wrapped around you. He bent further, getting closer, and you vaguely wondered if it hurt his back given the distance between the two of you, but if it did, he didn’t complain. He just kept getting closer.
“Really cute,” Wire murmured, his face now inches away.
You could barely hear him over the sound of blood roaring in your ears. Wire’s other arm was still slung around your shoulders, and he rubbed your arm slowly, leaving goosebumps. His finger never left your chin as he closed the distance.
Wire’s lips pressed against yours softly. Your entire body seemed to ignite, every cell alight and buzzing all at once. His lips were as warm as the rest of him, but what struck you was how gentle he was, kissing you so delicately it made you dizzy. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered shut, and when you felt him start to pull away, you followed. Now certain you wanted it, Wire found your lips again.
Your hands came up to hold his face, just in case he was thinking of pulling away again, your thumbs tracing the markings on his cheeks. Wire sighed into your mouth, and the tiniest moan escaped yours. He hadn’t even used his tongue, but you were suddenly aware of the growing wetness between your legs–something that never happened to you from just a dry kiss.
The realization was sobering, a voice screaming in the back of your head now: Stop! You’re too close! This is all temporary, remember?!
You broke away from the kiss, eyes opening to see that Wire had never closed his. Had he watched you the whole time? There was a slight panic in your mind now, along with two certainties now made clear: 1. It was too late to deny it–you had feelings for your superiors, and 2. If you stayed there, you were absolutely going to fuck him.
That was a line you couldn’t let yourself cross. It was in the interest of protecting yourself: Getting too close only to have to leave would have hurt, simple as that. But, god, the way he was looking at you now, with a slight sense of awe and pupils blown wide. He wanted you, maybe as badly as you wanted him.
Before you made a decision you’d regret, you stood up, taking a step back. Now away from the cover of his cloak and the warmth of his body, the coolness of the air only contributed to the prickle of goosebumps on your skin. Your hand came to touch your lips, still tingling with the sensation of his.
“Um,” you said dumbly, then tried again, “Wire... Thanks for the chat. I have to, uh. Go to the bathroom...”
It was with the willpower of a thousand Buddhist monks that you forced yourself to leave, not looking back, afraid to see his expression.
You could only pray that he had drunk enough that he would forget about it the next morning. You certainly didn’t, the memory of the kiss fresh in your mind when you next opened your eyes. But Wire never brought it up again, nor did he treat you any differently, leading you to think that he must have. You tried to ignore the disappointment that arose–it was for the best, you told yourself.
You put more effort into staying emotionally distant after that, but it was difficult. Staying in an enclosed space for weeks at a time meant there was no avoiding those four. And aside from them, there was no doubt that the rest of the crew considered you a friend as much as you did them. Vicious battles with other pirate crews or Marines, perilous weather, long hours of work–nothing was able to drag down your mood for long, because at the end of the day, you had fun. It was just fun to sail with them, simple as that. 
You were enjoying yourself enough that you almost forgot about your revenge, your reason for joining Kid the first place, until the day came when it stared you in the face. You heard from the natives of the island you had docked at about the other crews currently there, and the name spoken of that pirate, your friend’s killer, was like ice on your skin and in your heart. Finally, after all those years, you would have your opportunity.
You found him. Both crews were there, but this was personal–you wanted to face him one-on-one. He agreed, the cocky look on his face a familiar indicator that he was underestimating you. That was fine. It would only make things easier. You didn’t need an epic battle, you just needed him to die.
With your trusty knives sharp and ready, and your heart crying out for blood, you fought him. You were far stronger and faster than you had been when you first left your home island, a result of the frequent training with the Kid Pirates. The pirate was strong, but not nearly strong enough. When it became obvious he was going to lose, he cowardly called out for his crew. For a moment, seeing the swarm of pirates rush to his aid, you thought you would die there. Then, to your surprise, the Kid Pirates surged forth to intercept them, letting you finish your fight without interruptions.
You slayed the man who killed your friend. Those of his crew that were still standing, now demotivated at the sight of their dead captain, made a hasty retreat. And as you stood there, panting, blood dripping from your knives, you realized that the mission was finally complete. You no longer needed the Kid Pirates. It was over.
Kid approached you. And you? You cried like a bitch, tears streaming down your cheeks at the thought of finally saying goodbye. It was the first time you’d ever cried in front of them like that, and it was not a pretty cry, either.
Kid leaned over you, like he did when you first met. But this time, he was wearing his unique look of annoyed concern. “You got what you wanted after all this time,” he said gruffly. “Why the hell are you crying?”
“I… I…” You fought to keep your voice steady. “I don’t want to leave! I want to keep sailing with you and the crew. I really,” you sniffed, “really enjoyed spending time with everyone!”
“Then stay, you big fucking crybaby.”
You wiped your face on your sleeve and peered up at him. “...I can stay?”
“Did you think you were getting kicked off?” Kid scowled. “You’ll always have a place onboard the Victoria Punk.”
That only made it worse, a fresh wave of tears pouring out, and you couldn’t find the words to respond, only a pathetic sob.
“So quit blubbering and pull yourself together, alright? This is embarrassing,” Kid said. “You’re a Kid Pirate, aren’t you? Act like it.”
Warmth spread through your chest, light and bubbly, a sense of camaraderie so strong it was almost euphoric. You smiled through the tears, the cry turning into a laugh of pure joy.
“Yeah,” you said, standing up straighter, “I am a Kid Pirate.”
The crew threw a party that night in celebration of your achievement. Seeing the reverie, them all having fun for your sake, made you emotional, and when they toasted to you, you cried again, earning their teasing. It didn’t bother you one bit. This was your life and these were your people now, and you wouldn’t change it for anything. You asked Hip, a former tattoo artist, for a certain tattoo later, once you were all sober, and she eagerly agreed.
As soon as the following day, you bore new ink. Situated in the middle of your upper back, right between your shoulder blades, was the Kid Pirates’ secondary jolly roger: Four inches across, a perfect circle of glittering black ink with a row of spikes, and a skull in the center. It wasn’t visible when you were dressed, as you liked to be able to blend in with the general population, but you couldn’t help smiling like an idiot whenever you looked at it in the mirror. Kid made it obvious that you had been one of them since the beginning, but this made it feel official.
The energy on the ship seemed different after that, but it might have been your imagination. You felt closer to everyone than ever before, after all. Maybe it was the symbol you now carried on your back. Maybe it was the memory of the whole crew rushing in to fight for you. Or maybe it was the fact that there was no more reason to keep your distance from those four, a thought that reared up with increasing frequency nowadays. Still, you kept it in your pants, so to speak, mostly because you were afraid of what you would do if you crossed that line. You weren’t sure if you wanted them to find out just how far your craving went, not wanting to appear desperate.
After circling the first half of the Grand Line, Kid decided a break was in order, and so the Victoria Punk headed for your home island to kick back. You were excited, naturally, eager to show the crew the very best Mesiba Island had to offer, local digs and spots that weren’t as well-known to outsiders. You were also planning something else, something you didn’t get to partake in much since you left home.
“I’ve been in contact with one of my buddies. I’m gonna hook up the whole crew,” you told Kid.
“What makes you think I’d smoke your hometown’s mid-tier garbage?” Kid griped.
You weren’t phased in the slightest, well-used to his attitude. “Oh Captain, dearest Captain. You have no idea what you’re in for,” you smirked. “My friend’s a Devil Fruit user! Some ability affecting plants, I don’t know the specifics. Produces nothing but gold, though.”
“Bullshit,” Kid said. “I bet he says that to drive up business.”
“She actually keeps that part quiet, to avoid trouble. But we’re close. So don’t tell anyone I told you that, okay?” You patted his shoulder.
Kid glared at your hand, but you didn’t move it until he replied. “Fine. I’ll judge it for myself, then.”
“We haven't gotten to smoke in a while,” you withdrew your hand, “same with most of the crew. If you’re not careful…”
“I know what I can handle, pipsqueak. Don’t worry about me.”
“Sure, of course. Whatever you say.”
Kid turned his glare to you, but you were already leaving, needing to write another letter to your dealer friend to get the goods prepared.
The first two days on Mesiba Island were less eventful, you taking the time to visit friends and family while the crew relaxed. On the third day, you had met up with your Devil Fruit-using buddy, and, as promised, returned with copious amounts of the highest-quality weed for everyone to enjoy. The crew stayed at one of your friend’s taverns, and you pulled aside Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire.
“Listen. There wasn’t enough of this particular strain for everyone, but I wanted to share it. Don’t tell the others, okay?”
You had gotten a nice deal on rooms from your friend, and the crew had splintered into various groups to partake in the drugs. It didn’t take much convincing for the four to join you in a separate room, curious about the special strain. You pushed the bed to the side and dragged out extra chairs, arranging them in a circle.
Almost everything had been set up ahead of time. Bottles of water and snacks lined the small table in the middle of the room, along with a rolling tray, an ashtray, and all the papers and tips you could possibly need. You put on gloves before grinding up the bud, chatting while you worked.
“It’s okay to smoke in here?” Heat asked.
“Remember what island you’re on,” you said, sprinkling the herb on the blunt wrap you were currently working with. “Not only is it okay, but we’re going to hotbox the room.”
Kid eyed the row of perfectly rolled blunts that you had already finished preparing. “You were a regular stoner, huh?”
“Have you considered that maybe I’m just good with my hands?” You glanced at him while licking the blunt wrap, which might have been a mistake, because he stared in a way that made your heart skip. You folded the blunt wrap closed. “But, yeah, I used to smoke all the time.”
“What’s so special about this strain?” Wire asked.
“It’s my favorite! Best of the best out of what my friend grows,” you smiled proudly as you dried the blunt with your lighter. “A well-balanced hybrid with a good flavor. Really nice, lofty high without knocking you out too much to enjoy it. Not that the crew got anything mid! This stuff is just even better, but she only grows it in small batches. I bet it’ll even chill you out, Kid.”
Kid shot you a look that you ignored while Wire nodded, saying, “I see. What’s it called?”
“Magenta Mountain.” You set the finished blunt at the end of the row to finish drying. The first ones were ready by now.
You plopped into your chair, lit the first blunt, and made sure it was burning evenly before taking a small hit to start with, to adjust to the feeling of smoking again. It didn’t take long, the hot smoke in your throat and lungs pleasant rather than irritating, and your second hit was deeper. You exhaled slowly, watching the milky smoke curl and expand, then coughed a few times before passing the blunt to your right, where Killer sat. Next to him was Kid, then Heat, and completing the circle, on your left, was Wire.
You expected Killer to lift his mask an inch, like you’d seen him do occasionally for certain foods. Instead, he stuck the blunt in one of the lower holes of his mask to take the hit, and when he exhaled, smoke came out of all the holes in the mask.
“Once the blunt’s gone around a few times,” you said, “that’s gonna be hilarious.”
“It’s hilarious now,” Heat grinned.
“You’ll get over it,” Killer said, passing the blunt to Kid.
“Just don’t get mad if I laugh,” you said.
“I won’t.”
You debated lighting a second blunt and having two going around at once, but ultimately decided against it. There was no rush, as the rooms were rented out for the entire night. Conversation started to flow, interspersed with the occasional fit of coughs, and by the third time the blunt passed your hands, you were starting to feel its effects. The first thing you noticed was the warmth around your eyes, gradually spreading to the rest of your face, and then to your entire body.
“How’s my hometown treating everyone?” you asked, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it onto the bed behind you.
“No complaints here,” Heat said before taking a large hit off the blunt, and you watched with some fascination. Every hit he took was a huge one, and he never coughed once. It must have had something to do with his fire-breathing ability, being used to smoke.
“I liked the restaurant from yesterday,” Killer remarked.
“Oh, you mean Papa’s? I thought you would. Their pasta rules.” You paused, remembering something, then snickered.
“What?” Kid asked, his tone already far less harsh than usual.
“It’s fucking stupid,” you grinned, “but, growing up, my friends and I would call it ‘Daddy’s’ as a joke. Someone would order spaghetti and meatballs, and we’d immediately pile on about them having ‘daddy’s balls’ and whatnot.”
Kid must have been feeling it now, too, because instead of rolling his eyes like he usually would, he cracked a smile.
“Told you it was dumb.” You leaned back in your chair–no, you melted into it. There was a haze in the air now, thick smoke hanging around the room as you hotboxed it further and further. There was also a haze in your head. Different from the kind you would get from alcohol, this one made you feel light and floaty.
The weed was well established in your system now. There was a slight head rush at first that had since settled, leaving you with a gentle sort of drifting feeling. Your heart rate picked up slightly, even as your breathing slowed. A sense of calm settled over you, both in your head and in your body. Muscles loosening up, you relaxed further, everything seeming to move a little bit more slowly. Your senses seemed to heighten, particularly your sense of touch. You could feel the air itself wrapped around your skin, like you were underwater without the water. A faint, soothing pressure.
You didn’t feel the world around you. You experienced it.
Along with the physical sensitivity came an almost spiritual one. Not in the religious sense, or even in the out-of-body sense, but in the way you felt connected to your surroundings. The pressure of your feet against the floor was grounding, and when you closed your eyes, you felt like you were a part of the entire island. When the others talked, you felt connected with them too, like you were locking onto their energy. That closeness was one reason you loved smoking with friends, so it was nice to share it with them, but it wasn’t your favorite thing about being high.
The best thing, you thought, was the way your negativity seemed to dissolve. Fears and doubts subsided, making way for a simple appreciation of existence. It seemed more important to focus on enjoying things in life rather than lamenting the broken state of the world.
You looked around the room and took in the state of your companions. Everyone except Killer had settled back into their chairs, the latter instead leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. But you could tell that even Killer was unwinding. Your gaze slid over to look at Heat, and when the two of you made eye contact, his eyes widened.
“Your eyes are really red,” Heat said.
“Everyone’s eyes are red, my guy,” you replied, then glanced at Killer. “Well, Killer’s might not be. We’ll never know.”
You and Heat giggled.
“And I’ll never tell,” Killer said solemnly.
That got everyone laughing, you covering your mouth until the fit calmed.
“When I first joined the crew,” you nodded at Killer, “I was dying to know what you looked like under the mask, but I’m over it now.”
“No, you’re not,” Wire accused.
You were a bit taken aback that he read you so easily. “No, I’m not,” you agreed.
Kid waved his right hand vaguely. “You’re not missing out on anything. He’s an ugly motherfucker.”
You gawked at Kid in shock, but Killer burst out laughing, the first time you’d ever heard him do so, head hanging down and shoulders shaking. It was a weird but adorable laugh, and you calmed down–it seemed that sort of thing was fine if it was coming from Kid.
“No way,” you said, relaxing once more. “I bet he’s cute.”
Alcohol made you honest due to a lack of judgment. Weed made you honest because you didn’t care otherwise. You knew what you were saying and it was okay because the world was good, and your friends liked you and all that mattered was being in the moment.
“You sound so certain,” Killer said once he caught his breath, a playful lilt to his tone lingering from his laugh.
“I can feel it in my gut,” you said assuredly.
“I could have a facial scar.”
“Kid has a facial scar, and he’s cute.”
Kid looked at you in surprise, and where you would normally smile back with your high confidence, you now deftly avoided eye contact as you were rapidly becoming aware of a new effect of the weed on your body.
Sometimes weed had the effect of raising your libido, and Magenta Mountain had occasionally done so in the past. Maybe it was the increased circulation, you didn’t know. You had considered that it might happen, but it was never enough to be distracting, so you hadn’t been worried. The rest of the effects of the weed were so nice, it was well worth the discomfort of possibly being a bit aroused in the presence of others, you had figured.
But you were not a ‘bit’ aroused. You were burning up, slowly but surely, tingling and hypersensitive all over until there was a growing dampness between your legs. And the others around you were all men you had a raging, years-long crush on. Beneath the carefree optimism of the high was the dawning sense that something was off.
“This shit is amazing. What did you call this strain?” Heat asked, plucking the weed container from the table to look at the label.
“Magenta Mountain.”
“Huh…” His squinty eyes narrowed further. “This says something else.”
“What?”
Heat tossed the container to you. You fumbled it in your intoxication, bouncing it between your hands until it clattered to the floor. The others laughed, and you did too as you reached down to pick it up. Your laughter died as you read the label.
‘Red Sky At Night.’
A weight settled heavily in your stomach as you realized what’s been happening: your friend gave you the wrong strain. Not only that, but you were very, very familiar with what you–and the others–had been smoking all this time.
‘R-SAN,’ as you and your friend had dubbed it, was specifically designed to increase arousal, focusing on blood flow and sensitivity far more than other strains. You knew this because you were the one your friend used as a lab rat when developing it. The information sank in slowly as it dawned on you–you’d unintentionally given you and your superiors a mild aphrodisiac. And you, as the one it was tested on, would be affected by it the most heavily.
“Y/n?”
Your head snapped up. The others were looking at you with some concern.
“You good, or did we just smoke the wrong weed?”
“We’re good!” You replied a little too quickly, voice a little too high-pitched. “She gave me the wrong strain, but it’s fine. I mean, I feel fine. Do you feel fine?”
Heat and Killer shrugged, Kid grunted an affirmative, and Wire nodded.
“I will admit,” Kid said, “whatever this is, it’s some pretty good shit.”
You lifted your chin. “T-Told you so. My friend grows good herb.”
The others lounged in their seats quietly, soaking in the high. Meanwhile, you wanted to scream. The current blunt in rotation was the third one of the night, and you had already smoked too much to be able to come down anytime soon. Not to mention there were four more blunts left that the others would likely want to go through. That meant a lot of time stuck in your worked-up state. If you rejected any more, would it be suspicious? Especially after you went to the trouble to set all this up? You weren’t sure how much more you could tolerate. Already, you wanted to run off and touch yourself until you had sated the blazing urge inside you.
It was imperative, for the sake of your sanity, that you did not let your imagination run away with you.
You tried to think about tame things, and not how you could feel your pulse between your legs, or how wet you were already, or how attractive the men you were sharing space with were. At the least, it was easy to be introspective when high, so you were able to force your thoughts into the sentimental, rather than the physical. You thought about the warmth of your friends–not that kind of warmth, damn it–but how the way they treated you changed since you first met them. Yes, focus on that. Focus on the beginnings, how initially standoffish everyone was. You considered the time when you first met the crew. There had been something odd about your battle with the First Mate…
“Killer,” you said, “remember when we first met? How we fought?” You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side, exposing your shoulder to show the scar that ran from there to your clavicle. At 6 inches long, it was your biggest scar, but you didn’t hold it against him. Focused on Killer, you missed the gazes of the other three settling on your bare skin.
“Yeah,” Killer replied.
“You were going easy on me, weren’t you?”
“Yeah. Until you stabbed me.”
That was what you had suspected. The sudden increase in his speed during the fight didn’t make sense otherwise. You tried not to sound smug. “Why is that? Why didn’t you try to kill me, Killer?”
“I almost took your head off,” Killer said plainly.
“No, I’m talking about before I stabbed you. You held back,” you pressed.
Killer paused. “...You want the truth?”
“Yes?” You sat forward, intrigued.
“When you approached us years ago,” Killer interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, “your eyes were all swollen like you’d been crying for hours. I assumed it was over the friend you wanted revenge for–I realized you came straight to us not long after you’d found out. That kind of determination, that kind of love for a friend, it’s something I value in an ally. That’s why I hesitated.” 
“Oh,” you said softly, unexpectedly touched. That was honestly very sweet, so much so that it was making you self-conscious, so you added a playful, “guess that all went out the window after my knife slotted between your ribs, eh?”
“Mostly,” Killer said. “I was kind of into it, though.”
Your eyes widened, and you grinned nervously. “Shut the hell up. No you were not.”
Wire chuckled, a deep sound that practically gave you goosebumps in your current state. “Well, knives are sexy, and Killer has a ridiculously high pain tolerance, so I can see it.”
No matter what you did, it seemed that the conversation kept circling back to indecent places. You mentally floundered for a moment before quickly spouting, “Too bad for you guys. Killer got soft, and now you’re stuck with me.”
Killer’s head snapped to you at the accusation, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the weight of his glare. You met it (kind of) in challenge. Despite the slight sense of warning you were getting, you continued to run your mouth.
“You could have killed me if you really tried, you know–back then, you completely outclassed me.”
“I still completely outclass you,” Killer stated.
Your look of indignant shock sent the other three into a laughing fit, and your face burned in embarrassment. Even high, you still had your pride as a fighter, which was now thoroughly bruised. “Excuse me?” you fumed. “I’m way stronger than I was years ago! I can fucking take you!”
Killer stood up suddenly, the warning in your head becoming a full-on alarm when he stalked over to you. You scrambled to your feet, but the weed slowed your reaction speed, and before you could do anything about it, Killer grabbed you.
Maneuvering you as easily as a child would a doll, Killer pulled you toward him so your back was against his chest, snaked one beefy arm under yours and around the back of your neck, and locked you into a half-Nelson, all in the span of a second. Then he stood up straight, and you were brought off your feet. With your head being pushed down, you couldn’t gain any leverage, kicking and struggling to no avail. He was a solid wall of muscle, and with only one arm, he had you completely helpless. After another fruitless minute, you gave up, going slack in defeat.
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you mumbled, making the other three laugh again.
Point now proven, Killer set you on the ground. It took everything in you to keep your legs from shaking. Arm wrestling with Kid that one time had been bad enough. Being locked against Killer, totally unable to fight back? Feeling the firmness of his torso against your back, the power in his arm? You weren’t just wet anymore–you were completely soaked. You only prayed it wouldn’t get bad enough to show through your pants.
Sinking into your seat, you tuned out the others for a minute, all comments fading into the background. You tried to focus on breathing slowly, to ease the frantic pounding of your heart, to ignore the aching need between your legs. Zoning out was impossible with the raging sensitivity of your body, but you could at least ground yourself enough to make it through the evening. After this session, you would duck into a private room and take care of yourself. Just hold out that much longer, you thought.
They must have moved on from ribbing you by the time you focused once more. You hadn’t heard any of it, though you were sure they had. At least, Kid would have. Now he was talking about something else, finishing a story you had entirely missed.
“It was a pain in the ass,” Kid paused to take a hit, exhaling before he continued, “but right now? I don’t give a shit anymore.”
Hearing that, it was hard not to feel smug. That was the exact reason you had brought weed for everyone (and why you were in your current predicament.) All for the opportunity for your friends to relax.
“See, I knew it’d mellow you out, Kid,” you said, coming off a little too pleased with yourself and making him glower.
“You didn’t know shit. Mind your tongue,” he said, though the effect of his words was ruined by how tranquil he sounded. “You aren’t getting any free passes because of this.”
You hid a grin. He may have said that, but you knew him better. One of Kid’s better traits was to pay back what he was given, good or bad. You knew for a fact that he would go easier on you for a while for having set everyone up for the night.
“You don’t scare me, Kid. I know you care. Mr. You-will-always-have-a-place-onboard-the-Victoria-Punk.”
“Shut the hell up, Y/n,” he said with no real venom, although you did not miss the faint tinting of red on his cheeks. “Don’t make me put your valuables on the top shelf.”
“Go ahead,” you shrugged. “Wire will get it for me.” You turned your gaze onto Wire, batting your eyelashes cartoonishly. “Won’t you, Wire?”
It looked ridiculous coming from you, and had the desired effect of making him giggle, his face lighting up in a way that tugged at your heart. He smiled down at you fondly. “Sure.”
“Are you whipped?” Kid grumbled. “Don’t tell me you two fucked.”
“We did not,” you interjected before anyone made a dumb comment. Unfortunately, you thought to yourself.
“You did kiss me, though,” Wire said casually.
Oh–so he hadn’t forgotten. The man had no idea what kind of bomb that was to drop on you now, of all times.
“Wire!” you shouted. “That’s–”
“What?!” The other three yelled in unison.
“–not how it happened! You kissed me!” You tried to shout, but no one was listening because the other three, even Killer, had rounded on Wire for some reason.
“You kissed her?”
“I thought we had a deal, you scumbag!”
“When the hell was this?”
“Wait, hold on!” you cried. “What did you say?!”
They were not listening.
“With tongue?”
“You’re a fucking traitor, Wire.”
“Here I thought you were the one with self-control.”
“Will you morons shut the fuck up!” you roared.
They finally went quiet, all staring owlishly at you now.
“Did you–did you say you had a deal? What the fuck does that mean?” You said hotly, glaring at each of them in turn, awaiting an explanation.
Kid gave nothing away, but Wire was blushing, Heat looked guilty, and who knew what Killer was thinking.
“Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” Kid said lightly, waving it off like it was nothing.
“I’m supposed to pretend like I didn’t hear that?” You were feeling distinctly less chill now, trying not to get swept up by the implications. There was no way. They couldn’t be…
“You’re better off not knowing,” Kid proclaimed. “You couldn’t handle it.”
That kind of pissed you off. He didn’t know what your life was like before you joined his crew, nor all that you had gone through to make it as far as you did. What you had to endure. Even what you were currently enduring. 
You licked your lips, thoughts slipping into the red again. “You have no idea what I can handle, Captain.”
Kid was stunned for a moment, not responding right away, and you could audibly hear the slow breath he sucked in. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
You swallowed and looked away quickly, heart pounding a dent inside your chest. “F-Fine. Whatever. Keep it to yourself. Like I care.”
Kid kept watching you, but you didn’t notice, your eyes fixed on the ground now as your imagination spiraled, thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the fuck had they been talking about? There was no way. No possible way they were all interested. Wire, maybe. He had kissed you, though he had also been drunk, so there was no guarantee he was even attracted. But all of them? All four? It couldn’t be. You had to be reading into it. Right? 
Right?
You pushed your feet into the ground, anxious for a sense of stability, trying and failing to tune the others out this time. Weed affected everyone a bit differently, but there were some constants. How much of what you were feeling was also being felt by them? If you felt a sense of connection, were they experiencing it as well? Could they sense your energy? 
Did they know? 
For a brief, terrifying moment, you had the paranoid thought that they could read your mind. Then you pushed it aside. It was impossible. All in your head. Just make it through tonight, and don’t think about it. Don't think about it.
But the universe was a cruel place, or maybe some god above was playing tricks on you. You were certain some higher being was laughing at your expense, because the conversation turned into a discussion of the mens’ past encounters. You could only sit there as Kid and Wire offhandedly commented on particular dalliances while the more reserved two opted to listen. They weren’t detailed, keeping things vague, but it didn’t matter. Your brain grabbed the barest descriptions and drew out a whole movie in your head, filling in the blanks and imagining the events in graphic detail. At first you pictured a random person as their partner, but then it immediately switched to putting yourself in their place, visualizing yourself getting dicked down by your crushes.
You dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to stay cool. It was a mental chess game to function at this point. You analyzed your every action with militaristic scrutiny, frantic not to give anything away, to not appear like the smoldering ball of lust you were. Was your posture too tense? Were you avoiding eye contact too much? Don’t act off. Don’t stay silent. Say something, join in the conversation.
“You guys don’t know how good you have it,” you said carefully, fighting to keep your tone neutral. “I can’t fuck strangers. I just can’t.”
Kid gave you a look of disbelief, which was fair, considering where you were from. “Wait. Have you really not had any since you joined us?”
“She hasn’t,” Wire answered for you, “she told me.” He shot you a devilish smirk. “Right before devouring my mouth.”
“Not how it happened!” You said brusquely, wanting to throttle him right then. “Shut up, Wire!”
“Why don’t you come over here and shut me up?” He challenged coolly, and the slight drop of his eyes when he looked at you told you he had glanced at your lips.
A fresh wave of heat flared under your skin, and you mentally cursed him. Why did he have to be like that? Why now? You scrambled to come up with a retort, but only managed a lame, “Like I could even reach…”
Wire simply bent over in response, hunching down until he was at your level, cheek resting on his fist and a mischievous sparkle in his eye.
Kid clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Knock it off.”
“What?” you snapped at him, not meaning to lash out but feeling like you were rapidly losing control–of the situation, of yourself, of everything. “Are you jealous or something? You want a kiss, too?”
“Oh, please, Y/n,” Kid said, unbothered. “If I wanted a kiss from you, I would have just taken it for myself by now.”
A shiver ran down your spine at the image his words conjured, and you gaped at him for a moment, for once in your life getting a taste of your own medicine as you were rendered speechless. Losing the mental battle of wills, you found yourself unable to maintain eye contact, giving away your timidity by looking away.
Kid studied your reaction, but by some grace, elected not to comment on it. Not that his choice of words was any better, because he asked, “You haven’t cum at all? For years?”
“Of course I have,” you huffed, “given the shared sleeping quarters, I have to take care of it in the shower like everyone else.”
“Is that why your showers take so long?” Heat stated more so than asked.
It was.
“No, it’s not!” you yelled, further revealing how flustered you were by the conversation. The others dissolved into laughter. Heat was grinning, pleased to see you on the receiving end for once. 
“Besides,” you muttered, “it only helps so much. Even with toys.”
“You have toys on the ship?” Kid asked, surprised for some reason.
“Half the crew does, Kid,” you said. “I bet you do, too, so don’t say stupid shit about it.”
Kid smirked, caught. “And it’s still not enough for you, huh?”
This had to be some kind of torture, because every time you thought you were in the clear, things continued to escalate. You would have fled the room if you could live it down, but alas, the others would never let you forget about it. Stuck in a mess of your own making, all you could do was continue the conversation.
“A toy can’t hold you or kiss you,” you said, ignoring the weight of their gazes. “Can’t talk you through it, can’t bite or suck on anything–oh, god damn it.” You dropped your head into your hands, fire billowing in your body as your thoughts surged into overdrive once again. Your fingers curled in your hair and you pulled lightly, seeking any sort of counter-stimulation to bring down the heat. “Ughhh.”
They all watched as you groused, lifting your head with a hopeless sigh. “Fuck, I need to get laid.”
“Dibs,” said all four of them at once. They all looked at each other in surprise, then burst out laughing, curling over themselves.
You experienced the unique sensation of being stunned silent while also wanting to scream, the burning of your flesh now that of embarrassment as well as need. Their laughs would actually be very nice if it wasn’t at your expense, and everything felt so crushingly unfair right then that you growled at them. “Really, guys? That was not an invitation.”
All bullshit, of course. You would have slept with any of them even without the influence of the weed. And now the pace of your heart kicked up, because they had confirmed what you had suspected, but couldn’t quite believe–they were interested. All of them. It wasn’t your imagination.
“Well then, Y/n,” Kid said, “consider this an invitation.”
Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. “What?”
“You heard me.” Kid took a hit off the blunt, then leaned forward and exhaled the smoke in your face, the rude action only riling you up worse. “You want a big dick to ride? All you gotta do is ask.”
The fire inside you blazed larger and hotter, and you were aware of your breath coming out shorter. You dropped your gaze to the floor, gritting your teeth. After everything–all the years getting to know them, all the suggestive conversations, all the times you had craved them–after all the longing you pretended wasn’t there–now Kid was laying it out on the table, a clear offer to sate your desires. You could have what you wanted. All you had to do was accept.
Every cell in your body yearned for it, and yet a part of you still resisted, the part that still wanted not to appear desperate. You fought not to stay composed, masking your nervousness with attitude. “Who’s got the big dick, though?”
Kid scowled. “Watch it, little girl.”
The words had an immediate reaction deep in your gut, because Kid had never called you that before. He looked you in the eye while he said it, too, and you knew you failed to hide the momentary panic in your eyes. You ripped your gaze away, hands balling into fists.
At that point, you were so worked up and so wet that you couldn’t move without feeling it. The lightest shift in your seat had your lower lips sliding against each other slickly, the hypersensitivity from the high meaning you felt it like sparks. Even the fabric of your bra against your nipples was overwhelming.
“Are you okay?” Heat asked, and you realized you were trembling.
“All good,” you bit out.
“You’re sweating,” Wire said.
“And you were worried about me overdoing it.” Kid tsk’d. “Handle your shit, Y/n.”
“It’s handled,” you insisted. “I’m fine.”
“You sure about that, princess?”
He knows! You thought in a panic. If Kid’s words didn’t make that obvious, the curl of his lip certainly did. Your thoughts descended into near-hysteria, like a beehive had been upended in your head. Through the chaos was also the bemoaning thought that he was such an asshole, messing with you like this.
“Poor little Y/n,” Kid continued, smirking. “So pent-up. So many years without getting fucked.”
“Kid…” You nearly whined, voice quivering as much as your body was.
Movement in your peripheral vision made you glance to the side, just in time to see Killer reaching out to touch your arm, the contact like pure electricity on your skin. You jerked your arm away and grabbed his wrist, fingers unable to wrap all the way around, tightening your grip in warning.
“Do not–do not fucking touch me right now. Don’t tease me,” you hissed.
“You’re a real idiot sometimes, you know that?” Kid griped. Your resulting glare was offset by how you bit your lip, and Kid rolled his eyes. “I know you want it. That you’ve been wanting it. And yet you always hold yourself back. You’ll say the nastiest things while looking us dead in the eye and then just disappear. I don’t know if it’s some sort of pride you’re clinging to, or if you’re secretly shy underneath it all. But for fuck’s sake, Y/n, it’s getting hard to watch. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and just indulge? Let yourself have something nice, for once.”
Your jaw dropped further and further as he spoke, gawking at how he mercilessly called you out. Then you shut your mouth, swallowed a lump in your throat, and dropped your head, covering your face.
“You want to get fucked tonight, don’t you?” You heard Kid say.
“...Yes,” you mumbled into your hands, but the room was so quiet now that you were sure everyone heard.
“Then get over yourself, pick a guy, and go to another room.”
He made it sound so simple. 
Maybe he was right. Why were you making it more complex than it needed to be? Why couldn’t you just let yourself have this? But even if you succumbed to your desires, there was another problem.
“But… But, um,” you stammered. “How could I possibly choose? I lov–I like all of you!...”
A humiliating slip-up, one you expected them to tease you about, but there was only silence. You braved a peek at them from between your fingers. All eyes were on you–the pointing of Killer’s mask in your direction left no doubt–and then the guys glanced at each other, exchanging looks you couldn’t quite decipher, but that made something curl in your stomach anyway.
“Maybe,” Kid said slowly, gauging your reaction, “you don’t have to.”
You felt something change in the room. Like the air got heavier, though it could have been the smoke–although the group’s pace had slowed, the blunts never stopped their rotation. You weren’t sure which one you were on anymore, only that there was something else drifting alongside the undulating smoke, something that tingled like the air before a storm.
You lowered your hands so you could look at Kid clearly, keeping your mouth covered. There was no playfulness in his expression, only an ardent luster to the black of his eyes, the gold of his irises constricted into a thin band.
“Kid?” You only said his name, but the full question was implied. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?
“I’m serious. You could strip down right here, and we’ll figure something out,” Kid said, “if you really think you can handle it, like you so claimed.”
The challenge went over your head. You were too distracted by how your fervent body roused at the notion, every aching cell screaming at you to accept, any opposing thought quickly drowned out by sheer, unbearable need. You had been gradually wound more and more taught throughout the night, and the last threads of resistance were beginning to snap. 
You lowered your hands, so your consent would be fully comprehensible, but you were cut off before you had the chance to respond.
“Wait,” Wire said, the concern in his tone grabbing everyone’s attention. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
The swell of disappointment within you threatened to be crushing. You couldn’t keep it out of your voice. “Oh… You don’t want to?”
“Of course I want to, dummy,” Wire said, “but, Y/n. You’ve never slept with any of us before. To jump into doing something intense like this? While we’re all under the influence? There are risks.”
“I really don’t care at the moment.”
Kid smirked at your eagerness, but Wire wasn’t amused. “Have you ever been with multiple partners?”
“I’ve been in a threesome!” you said quickly. “I can handle it, Wire!”
“Mm… I dunno,” Wire considered. Heat passed the blunt to him right then, and the pause in which you had to wait for him to take his hit was agonizing. Wire watched the smoke he exhaled rise before meeting your eye again. “There should at least be a discussion first. About limits and stuff.”
“Please, I can’t wait anymore!” Keeping your voice down was its own trial. You could have cried from frustration. “I fucked up, okay? I got the wrong strain, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve been practically edging on the spot, and you four are just sitting there, all relaxed and having fun and unfairly hot…” You resisted the urge to cover your face again, but couldn’t help avoiding eye contact while admitting it. It surprised you, then, to hear who spoke up next.
“We could start slow,” Heat suggested, a blush coloring his face, “one person at a time. Discuss anything else as we go.”
You glanced at Wire hopefully, and found that everyone else was doing the same. In the back of your mind, you vaguely wondered why the decision seemed to hinge on Wire rather than Kid, but you didn’t question it in the moment.
Wire passed you the blunt, the mere slide of his giant fingers past yours as he did enough to make you shiver. He watched your reaction, then assessed the other three in the circle, one at a time. By the time he looked back at you, you had taken your hit, and your eyes met as the smoke flowed from your parted lips.
“Tch,” Wire’s shoulders drooped slightly in defeat. “Alright. If you’re gonna look at me like that. But at least choose a safeword.”
“I don’t care,” you said.
“I do,” he snapped, the stern rebuke going straight between your legs, “pick something.”
“Fine...” It was a struggle to come up with anything with the prospect of having them so close by, and you raced to think of something. The reason for your current state flashed through your head. “Red Sky?”
“Works for me. Everyone hear that?” Wire questioned, waiting for verbal confirmation from the other three before he nodded his approval.
You passed the blunt to Killer, pressing your thighs together in anticipation. “Um… How are we going to do this?”
Kid’s smirk widened, as fiendish as you’d ever seen it. “I think we should pass her around like a blunt.”
Once more, you found yourself gaping at Kid, slack-jawed at the lecherous idea. It was depraved, it was objectifying, and you were, truth be told, not the least bit opposed–you would have had them any way they offered at that point. Anything to ease the fever.
“Y/n,” Killer said firmly, making you tense, “come here.”
He had said it like a command, tone no different than if he were giving orders on the ship. You responded instinctively, drawn to Killer like a magnet, feeling as if your body wasn’t yours to control anymore. His mask dipped as you stood before him, looking you up and down.
“Sit.” Killer patted his lap. “Facing them.”
You swallowed and turned, perching on Killer’s knee. He grabbed your hips, making you gasp, and dragged you back until your back touched his chest, situating you directly over his crotch.
Killer’s hands never left your hips, your skin buzzing where he made contact, even through your clothes. His chin rested on your shoulder, deep voice murmuring into your ear. “Can I touch you?”
“Yes,” you breathed. The other three leaned forward in their seats, making you realize rather belatedly that everything that was about to happen would have an audience. You had never been watched before, and you didn’t know how you’d feel about it. But that thought, and any others, promptly flew out the window when Killer’s hands started their slow slide up your body, curving to the front and cupping your breasts.
You pressed yourself back against his chest, breaths coming out shaky. He was only squeezing and massaging gently, but after everything you had to endure so far, as roiled as you were, it was enough to send pleasant little shocks throughout your entire body.
Little shocks immediately turned into powerful bolts as Killer started teasing your nipples, your body jerking in response. You were sensitive enough there without the weed factoring in–as high as you currently were, it was overwhelming.
“Ah! K-Killer!” You pulled at his hands. “Please, slow down! I’m extra sensitive there, and the weed makes it ten times worse, so you gotta go slow…”
“You are, huh?” Killer hummed, flicking a nipple just to make you yelp.
“I thought you could handle this, Y/n,” Kid taunted.
“Whatever, Kid! You can watch, but I don’t need your lip,” your snarl didn’t sound nearly as threatening when it came between breathy pants. “Wait your turn and–nhh!”
Killer chose to resume touching you right then, rubbing your nipples at an appropriately slower pace. The tingling went straight to your cunt, and you threw your head back onto his shoulder, whimpering.
“Better?” Killer asked softly, and at your hasty nodding, you felt his chuckle against your back.
As incredible as it felt, it only made the need worse, the burning of your flesh intensifying under Killer’s touch. You writhed in his lap, desperate for stimulation between your legs, but you weren’t at the right angle to grind your clit against anything, and Killer was pressing your torso to his to keep you in place. Held against him and unable to escape, you could only take it, able to feel the calluses on his fingertips even through a shirt and bra. Killer let out a pleased growl at the sensation of you squirming over his growing bulge, the sound making you clench around nothing.
“Damn,” Wire muttered. “Look at her writhe.”
The other three were now sporting obvious erections, Wire and Kid idly palming at themselves while Heat elected to just watch.
“It’s the weed,” Kid responded, smirking. “I’ve been half hard ever since the first blunt, but I didn’t think much of it until she got all cagey about the strain.”
“The name is obvious enough,” Heat agreed.
So Kid had you figured out all along. Go figure. You weren’t paying much attention to that right then, though, not under Killer’s cruel assault.
“Please, Killer,” you whined, “stop teasing!”
“Gotta make sure you’re ready, first,” Killer said. “None of us are average, Y/n. I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
“I’m ready!” You almost sobbed. “I–ah!–I promise, I’m wet!”
Killer paused, mask tipping down over your shoulder. “You don’t say.”
You followed his gaze (so to speak) to see a damp spot on your pants–you had soaked through both layers. “See? I told you, I’m ready!”
“Soon,” Killer assured, resuming his slow teasing of your chest.
Every time you thought you had adjusted enough to keep from making noise, Killer would switch it up, circling or skimming over the pert buds, drawing more whimpers out of you. He played you like an instrument, a steady chorus of your soft cries in time with his fingers, and the other three were as enraptured as if it was a song. All your nerves ablaze and still being denied what you needed, you looked to your audience for help. Kid and Wire weren’t moved by your plight, but as soon as you locked gazes with Heat, he rose to his feet as if you had called out to him.
Heat crossed the short distance and sank to his knees in front of you and Killer, resting his hands on your thighs.
“What happened to one person at a time?” Kid grumbled.
Heat ignored him, leaning in to kiss you but pausing before he made contact. “Can I–” he started to ask, but you grabbed his face and pulled him in the rest of the way, crushing your lips against his to really get across the kind of state you were in. Just to make sure he understood, you shoved your tongue past his lips. Heat’s small moan of surprise was muffled, but then he eagerly reciprocated.
Heat matched your pace, returning everything you gave him with equal passion, and you quivered in anticipation as his hands slid up your thighs. Instead of going between your legs, though, they went to the hem of your shirt, and as Heat moved to kiss your neck, you realized he hadn’t come to help anyone but himself.
“Heat?” you inquired.
“Lift your arms,” he instructed, ignoring your question.
“But–”
“Lift your arms.”
You clenched at the command, not expecting it from the normally laid-back man. He was still blushing, but there was an intensity in his tone that had you complying right away, though not without an irritated huff. Heat nipped at your neck as a reward for listening before he pulled your shirt off.
Killer’s mask touched the back of your neck like he was kissing it. “Kid’s gonna like that tattoo,” he whispered as he unfastened the clasp of your bra. You barely paid attention to the comment, helping him remove it and tossing it onto the nearby bed.
Heat stared, transfixed, at your breasts. When no one made a move to continue, you started to consider violence. “Heat…”
“You have cute tits,” Heat said.
“Whatever!” You were about to strangle him, and not in a sexy way. “Would you just hurry and–”
Heat cut you off by kissing your nipple, making you gasp, and when he took it into his mouth, your back arched into him. “H-Heat!”
Killer’s prior touches might as well have been through a heavy blanket. It didn’t compare to the wet warmth of Heat’s mouth directly on your sensitive bud, nor the velvety texture of his tongue running over it. You reached to bury your fingers in his hair, but then Killer grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your back. The ache between your legs magnified at the restraint, and you didn’t think it was physically possible to be any more worked up, but then Heat proved you wrong by starting to suck.
You twitched and writhed, pulling weakly against Killer’s iron-like grip, helpless under Heat’s assault. He switched from one nipple to the other, bringing his hand to play with whichever his mouth wasn’t currently on. It felt like live wires had been laid through your body, running straight to your cunt, making you want to cry with how empty you were. You clenched and flexed your pelvic floor muscles, desperate for sensation, and somehow, you felt something start to build, as steadily as if you had been playing with yourself. You had never come without touching your clit before, but now you understood how it was possible, your cunt so sensitive that clenching alone brought sufficient stimulation. But right when you thought you could see the peak, right when you were certain you could make it, the build stopped, leveling off and leaving you stuck. Even the scrape of Heat’s teeth against your nipple, though maddening, wasn’t enough to get you there.
“Please!” You cried out in frustration, on the verge of tears. “Please touch me, Heat, Killer, anybody! Please!”
“You’ve endured it for so long, haven’t you?” Killer said huskily, moving your wrists to one hand, resting the other on your hip and squeezing hard. “That’s okay. We’re gonna take care of you…”
You were about to snap at him that no one was taking care of shit, but your remark caught in your throat when Killer’s hand slipped under your pants and underwear, inching forward until he was finally, finally reaching where you needed it. His wide hand parted your thighs, going straight for your slit, the brush of him over your clit along the way making you buck.
“Wow,” Killer said as he felt the evidence of your need, everything between your skin and clothes down there a thick, slippery film. “I thought you were exaggerating about how riled up you were. But the weed’s really done a number on you, hasn’t it?”
There was no resistance when he penetrated you with a thick finger, and you bucked your hips again with a sharp cry. “Oh! Oh, fuck! Killer!”
“Never seen anyone this wet before,” Killer mused, stroking a few times before inserting a second finger. His thumb found your clit, rubbing in little circles.
Heat’s messy slurps combined with the squelches of Killer’s fingering only amplified the experience. After everything you had gone through, it didn’t take very long, especially with the two of them working together. Killer added a third finger and curled them insistently as he went, and you came hard a few seconds later.
You shut your eyes from the intensity, hips grinding furiously into Killer’s hand as you rode it out, whimpering with every wave that rocked your body. He never stopped probing his fingers against that spot, working you deftly through it until the fluttering of your walls finally stopped and you slumped against his chest, panting.
Heat kept on sucking on your nipple, the stimulation rapidly becoming overwhelming in the wake of your orgasm. “Heat–Heat, Heat!” With your head fuzzy with dopamine, you couldn’t form a better sentence, higher functions temporarily absent.
Luckily, Killer had been able to feel everything. He let go of your wrists to push Heat back by the shoulder, the pop of his lips disconnecting making you twitch. You twitched again when Killer pulled his fingers out.
The residual throbbing of your clit lasted longer than it ever had, aftershocks of an orgasm while high spreading through your body like lightning branching through your nerves. You didn’t open your eyes for a minute, chest heaving. When you did, the first thing you saw was Heat’s look of adoration. Behind him, Kid and Wire were burning holes through you with their gazes, both of them red-faced and awestruck. It dawned on you that you’ve cum in front of four guys. In front of your superiors. Your friends. And yet, instead of shame, instead of self-consciousness, the pulsing within you subsided and left behind a fervent hunger in its place.
Again. You needed it again.
Killer brought his hand to your mouth, fingers glistening with your slick. You parted your lips without hesitation, letting him in. The tang of your fluid on your tongue reawakened spent nerves, making you sensitive all over again. Killer let out a soft curse when you sucked, tongue sliding between his fingers to get every drop. Your eyes fell closed again, focused wholly on the act of cleaning up your own mess.
Killer peered down at your face and hummed. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at them.”
You obeyed, making eye contact with each of the other three while you sucked your slick off Killer’s fingers, fresh heat searing through your body at how they marveled at you. Kid had started stroking himself through his clothes with his flesh hand, his expression in particular full of dark intent.
“There’s a good girl,” Killer praised, “see what you do to them…”
You pulled Killer’s hand out of your mouth. “Killer,” you whined, grinding your ass against him in a clear signal to go further.
Cumming in Killer’s lap and sucking on his fingers had its effect on him, because he was harder than before, pressing stiffly into your ass cheek and breathing heavily by your ear. So it came as a shock when he raised his head and said, “Kid. You can go first.”
“Nah, Killer, you go ahead,” Kid said, waving his metal hand. “According to the sounds she just made, you earned it.”
“You go first. I know you’ve wanted this for a while,” Killer insisted.
“I don’t care who goes first!” you yelled, the revelation of Kid’s interest fading into the background in your desire. “For fuck’s sake, just whip it out!”
They all laughed at that, which only pissed you off further. Then Kid’s voice echoed across the room, sending a pleasant chill down your spine.
“Pass her here.”
Killer scooped you up and leaned over, holding you out to Kid like you weren’t a whole adult. The chairs were close enough together that Kid could reach you without getting up, merely holding out his metal arm and letting Killer drop you onto his palm. His arm didn’t even dip with your weight.
Kid tipped his hand suddenly so you fell into his lap, momentum throwing you against his chest and making you instinctively grab him for support.
“I get it, Y/n. You’re desperate. But you don’t have to grab me over it,” he jeered, and not for the first time in your life, you seriously contemplated striking your captain.
“Hold on,” Wire said, patting his pockets and frowning. “Does anyone have condoms?”
“Not an issue,” you said abruptly, “I’m set on birth control.”
“I thought you didn’t get any,” Heat asked, now back in his chair.
“There are other reasons to take birth control. It makes your menstrual symptoms less severe.”
“I knew that,” Wire said, sounding proud of himself.
”No one cares! Get on with it!”
Kid looked thoughtful, smile faltering as he deliberated over something. “...Wire may be right, actually.”
“What?” You stared at him.
“I mean, four guys, after you haven’t had a partner in years? It’s far too much. You could end up hurt.”
You searched his eyes, trying to figure out where this sudden change of heart came from. It was so unlike Kid that you didn’t even protest at first, bewildered.
“I wouldn’t want you to walk away from this with regrets, Y/n,” Kid said gravely. “You’ve come once already, so that should be adequate. End the night on a good note.”
“No! No, I can keep going! Please, please!” you bid urgently.
Kid’s somber look broke at your plea, his lip curling like he was trying not to smile, and you realized that he was messing with you. Arousal flipped into anger in an instant.
“You’re such a dick!” you cried. “I can’t believe you! I know you want it too, so stop fucking with me and start fucking me already!”
Kid’s infuriating smirk grew wider. “Beg for my cock.”
“Ugh! Fine, you jerk!” You ground your hips into his bulge to help make your point, face flushed hot as you glared at him. “Please, Kid! I–I need you. I need to be violated in the way that only a ruthless pirate captain can.”
It was kind of stupid, but Kid was vain enough that the words got to him anyway, his nostrils flaring with the steep breath he took. “That easy, huh? I always knew deep down, you were a slut.”
You slapped him, hard. The slap echoed as the room fell quiet, and though Kid was momentarily stunned, you felt his dick twitch through his pants.
“You’re the one making me beg–” you started to say, but Kid grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in for a rough, possessive kiss. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth with his tongue, probing it deep to wrap around yours. You moaned into his mouth, grinding on him for some much-needed friction. Kid pulled back, but you followed, straining forward to kiss him again.
The fingers of his flesh hand curled into your hair, gripping tight and forcing you back off of him. The slight pain pulled another little moan out of you, and Kid grinned.
“One more time. Tell me how bad you need it,” he said huskily.
“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t,” you whined.
“Good girl.”
He prompted you to lift your hips so he could reach his pants, undoing them and finally, finally pulling out his cock. You pulled your own pants and underwear down before Kid could think to rip them, not keen on doing a bottomless walk of shame in front of the crew later. Kicking off the garments, you repositioned yourself over Kid. He groaned when you wrapped your hand around his thickness to line yourself up.
“Fuck,” he husked. “If your pussy’s as small as your hands…”
“Wait, Kid,” Killer interjected. “Make her face us.”
“Why?” Kid asked, but you had already started to turn around in his lap to comply with Killer’s wishes. Kid’s voice suddenly dropped low, heavy with interest. “Oh.”
“What?” You glanced over your shoulder, where Kid’s eyes were boring into the spot right below the back of your neck. You realized he had never seen your tattoo before. “Oh, my ta–ahh!”
Kid slid two fingers up through your slit, finishing with a little circle around your clit that made your legs weaken. “Now when did you go and get that done?” he murmured.
“Fewmonthsago,” you slurred. “Kid…”
He grabbed your hips, positioning you over his cock. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long if I had known. You’ve been dedicated all this time, haven’t you?” He guided you down slowly, thick cock parting you gradually.
You bit your lip and nodded, that aching within you finally eased. Kid’s grip tightened as your hips met, digging into your skin.
“Shit,” he cursed. “You’re really wet. Killer wasn’t joking. Now, face forward.”
You turned your head back to look at the other three. Everyone else had taken their dicks out at that point and were stroking themselves, Heat’s free hand holding a still-burning blunt. You glanced between them–all eyes were on you, making you burn up even hotter. Their gazes felt like a physical sensation on your skin. Your own gaze faltered, though, when a harsh smack landed on your ass.
“Ah!” you yelped, the sting both grounding you and riling you up worse.
“Captain, at least ask if she likes it first,” Wire admonished.
“She got tighter, Wire,” Kid responded, groping your ass cheeks. “I think she likes it just fine.”
“It’s okay,” you mumbled, starting to move. With your feet unable to touch the floor, you had to use your thighs to squeeze Kid’s lap and lift yourself up and down, but you had plenty of stamina to go at that point and a monstrous, intoxicated desire spurring you on. You set a quick, needy pace, fucking yourself on his rigid cock so he hit all the right spots, making whimpers slip out between your panting breaths. You rolled your hips whenever they met Kid’s, grinding him into your g-spot deliciously.
“Fuck,” Kid groaned, and smacked your other ass cheek, making you moan. “Look at you go, princess. I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t calm down.” He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in tightly, forcing you to stop. You cried out in protest, your pleasure mercilessly cut off. “Kid!”
Kid leaned in and kissed your tattoo, moving your hips up and down at a cruelly slow pace and ignoring your cries.
“Kid, go faster! Please!” you begged.
“No,” he said, and even without facing him you could hear the grin in his voice. “You have to earn it.”
“How?!”
“By being honest, for once.” He kissed your tattoo again, and this time let his tongue drag over the inked skin, making a shiver run down your spine. “Did I hear you correctly earlier, Y/n? You haven’t just been flirting with us for fun…” He pulled you down on his cock, holding your hips down and rolling his up into you. “You’ve caught some feelings as well, so say it again.”
“What do I say?” you whined, too needy to remember.
“You said you love us,” Wire said smugly, now in possession of the blunt.
“Oh!” you said, both in surprise and because Kid was fucking you slowly and deeply now. “I…b-but…”
“Shy now?” Heat chuckled.
“That’s so embarrassing, come on,” you protested, “just hurry up and go faster, Kid!”
Kid’s lips pressed to your tattoo again, and you could feel his lips curl into a smirk. “No.”
“I don’t think that pace is gonna change until you say it,” Killer mused.
“Fine!” you huffed, then lowered your voice. “I… I love you…”
“What was that?” Kid asked.
“I didn’t hear anything,” Killer said.
Wire grinned, and Heat shook his head. “Me neither.”
Your face burned. “I love you,” you said again, though it was still a bit quiet in your embarrassment.
“Louder,” Kid commanded, slowing his pace even further until tears pricked the corners of your eyes.
“Kid, please. I love you.”
“You can do better than that. Tell us how you really feel.”
“I love you!” you whined. Kid picked up his pace ever so slightly.
“And Killer?”
“Y-Yes! I love him too!”
“And W–”
“And Wire and Heat! All of you!”
“Say it again!” Kid smacked your ass.
“Ah-! I love you!” you cried it out, again and again, and Kid did not fuck you properly until you were screaming it. Only then did he give you what you needed, bouncing you on his cock fervently with his metal hand. Everyone watched, enraptured, three pairs of eyes on you, on your bouncing breasts, on the point where your body met Kid’s.
“My loyal girl,” Kid praised, tongue on your tattoo again, “you like getting fucked by your captain?”
“Yes!”
“Wanna be shared by everyone?”
“Yes! I’m, I’m gonna cum-!”
“Who do you belong to?”
“The Kid Pirates!” you cried.
“Good girl. Now, cum on my cock for everyone to see.”
You came hard, orgasm hitting you like a battering ram, making your body tighten and lock up. Kid held you down as you pulsed around him, cursing as he tried to keep himself from tipping over the edge along with you.
For a minute, there was nothing but the soft sound of slapping around you as the other three jacked off to the sight of your bliss. You went limp against Kid, panting.
“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Heat muttered. “So fucking hot.”
“Have some discipline, Heat,” Kid said above you, “you’re next anyway.”
“Ugh, I hate edging.” Heat let go of himself, holding his hand away.
“It’ll be worth it,” Wire said. “Don’t let the weed make you finish early.”
“Easy for you to say, Wire. You do this kind of thing all the time.”
As your fuzzy brain started to grasp cognitive thought once more, you wondered if that was why Wire seemed to be in charge here. You always knew he was kinky, but never realized just how much experience he had.
Killer, who’d been holding onto the blunt while Kid was occupied, now passed it to Kid, who took a deep hit before offering it to you. You held up your hand in refusal, needing to catch up on oxygen first.
“How you holding up, Y/n?” Wire asked.
“Fucking fantastic,” you said earnestly, making them all laugh.
“Who’s great idea was this, again?” Kid asked, and you rolled your eyes.
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you said, shifting and dismounting off him, making him grunt from the stimulation. You pecked him on the lips, silently grateful that he had pushed you past your nervousness. “Thanks, Captain.”
Kid smirked proudly as you started to slide off his lap, and he grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking away. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re passing you around, remember?” With that, he pulled you back into him and picked you up, making you squeak in surprise, before stepping over to Heat and setting you down onto his lap.
Heat’s blush deepened as you immediately recovered and hooked your arms around his neck. He parted his lips when you leaned in to kiss him, his tongue sliding over yours, gently stroking and intertwining, making you moan sweetly. He started touching himself again, which you noticed once Heat started to gasp into your mouth.
“Heat, wait,” you said. “Let me.”
Heat moved his hand away, and you replaced it with your own. The feeling of something metallic and hard against your palm made you pause, pulling your hand away to look. Heat had his dick pierced, a frenum ladder–a set of parallel barbells going up the underside and stopping at the frenum.
“Oh, wow,” you said, running your thumb down the underside of his cock to feel the metal underneath. Heat groaned, his dick twitching. “Is it sensitive?”
“Yes,” he hissed, closing his hand around yours and making you start to jerk him off. “Don’t be a tease.”
“Says you! You were the one who tormented me earlier!”
“You look good when you’re needy,” Heat bit out, thrusting up into your hand. “I couldn’t help it. Now squeeze harder.”
“No, I wanna try something else,” you said, stopping. “I want to know what it feels like in my mouth.”
“Nope, sorry. I’ll come too quickly and have to sit out the rest of the session.”
You frowned. “Fiiiine. You’d better make up for it, then.”
Heat’s brows raised, then his eyes narrowed, and suddenly you felt as if you possibly made a mistake in your choice of words.
“Uh oh,” Wire said, but you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Make up for it?” Heat sneered down at you. “Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”
“I didn’t mean it like that, Heat,” you tried to placate him, but his tight grip on your hips told you that you were in trouble.
“Come here,” he snapped, pulling you to hover over his dick. “I don’t have a metal arm like Kid to toss you around with–so instead, you’re going to do what I say.”
It was so unlike Heat that you found yourself complying right away, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Or what?” you teased.
“Or we’ll find out your limits the hard way, regardless of what Wire says,” Heat lined himself up with your entrance, “I get the feeling you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”
“How should I know? I’ve never tried–oh…” You lost your words as Heat guided you to sink down onto his length. He was thicker toward the base, letting you feel each one of his piercings slide along your sensitive insides. “Oh, fuck, that’s–that’s good...”
Heat smirked. “Like the piercings?”
“Yes!” You rolled your hips to feel them move inside you, your eyelids fluttering shut. “Fuck.”
“Eyes on me, babe.” Heat instructed, and you snapped your eyes open to see him looking at you intensely, the hunger in his gaze sending prickles all over your skin. He slid his hands up your sides to your front, groping your breasts, pulling a moan out of you when he rubbed your nipples with his thumbs. You look down to watch him do it, contracting around him at the sight, and Heat corrected you with a harsh slap to your ass.
“Ah!”
“She does tighten up,” Heat grinned, his arm muscles flexing as he delivered a second firm smack.
“Heat!”
“Eyes up.”
You kept your eyes on him this time, even as he teased and tugged at your nipples. Gripping him tight, you rolled your hips again, the combination of the piercings and your chest being played with nearly making your eyes roll back. “Oh, fuck. Spank me again.”
Heat grinned. “Ask nicely.”
“Please!”
“Attagirl.” Heat smacked your other ass cheek, making you cry out. “What do you say?”
“T-Thank you!”
He chuckled. “You’re cute, you know that?” One of his hands snaked its way up your chest and around your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck.
Wire spoke up, his voice a firm admonishment. “Heat.”
“M’not squeezin’,” Heat said, pulling you in for another greedy kiss. You eagerly reciprocated, sucking on his tongue and making him groan. “Fuck…Come on, ride me.”
He didn’t have to ask twice. You planted your feet on the floor and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock, whimpering at the unique sensation of riding a pierced dick. Heat was already filling you up, to feel the barbells stimulating you on top of it was almost overwhelming in your intoxicated state.
“There’s a good girl,” Heat moaned. “Oh, fuck. Look at you.”
Heat fondled your chest as you rode him at a brisk, even pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit into him. You felt yourself rapidly approach the edge, until he pinched your nipple a little too hard, and the pain brought you out of it with a yelp.
“Ah-! Too hard, Heat,” you whimpered.
“See?” Wire said. “This is why you have to discuss these things. We really should have started by now.”
“Isn’t it too late?” Kid asked.
“No.”
“Where do we start, then?” Killer wondered.
“With what she wants out of this,” Wire said. “If she can even focus right now.”
You could not, especially when Heat chose right then to smack your ass again, which brought you right back to the edge. “Fuck, Heat!”
“Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Heat whispered huskily.
“Yes! I’m close!”
“That’s too bad–I want you to slow down.”
“W-What?”
“You heard me.” Heat lifted his legs so you could no longer reach the floor, your riding stopped in an instant.
“Ahh, no no no, Heat! Don’t stop!” you protested, trying to stretch your legs to reach the floor again, but he was much taller than you were.
“Only if you agree to slow down.” Heat said, massaging your breasts. “Can you do that for me?”
“I’ll do anything, just let me keep going, please!”
“Then ride me, slowly, and pay attention to what we’re talking about.” Heat lowered his legs again, graciously letting you reach the floor. “Otherwise I’ll just stop again when you’re about to cum.”
You nodded, slowly working yourself up and down his shaft. It was torturous to go at that pace after all you had been treated to, but the moment you sped up, he would just stop you anyway.
The blunt was passed to Heat at that moment, and he took a deep hit. With his other hand, he pulled you closer to him by the neck, sealing his lips around yours. You followed his lead, inhaling as he exhaled, filling your lungs with smoke.
Heat didn’t force you to take his entire hit, knowing he could handle bigger lungfuls than you could, and you both exhaled at the same time. He passed the blunt to Wire and placed both hands on your face, pulling you in again for a kiss that tasted of smoke.
“You listenin’?” Heat asked. He was looking at you with adoration now, and you nodded, wanting nothing more than to please him. “Wire asked you what you want out of this.”
He went back to massaging your chest the way you liked, playing with your nipples more gently while you rolled your hips and whimpered, trying to think while being teased. Your brain was already high on weed and dick–what more could you want? If you could do absolutely anything more than this, what would you do?
A mental image suddenly came into your mind. Of course. The only thing better than being used by all of them would be being used by all of them at the same time. You pictured it vividly, taking them in all three of your holes at once, and the thought turned you on so much that suddenly you were at the edge again. It only took one more roll of your hips before your orgasm snuck up on you, making you tremble all over as you choked on a gasp.
“She’s cumming,” Heat announced as you fluttered around him. “Fuuuck.”
“From that pace?” Killer asked. “Is she reaching her limit?”
“I don’t think that’s it,” Kid said.
“I’m with Kid. It’s something else,” Wire said. “Come on, Y/n, use your words.”
You sagged against Heat as your orgasm pulsed through your insides, muttering against his chest. Heat laughed. “She said she knows what she wants,” he said. “I think she just had a nice little mental image to get off to.”
Heat rubbed your back as you came down, then had you dismount him. He picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, stepping over and letting you fall into Wire’s big arms.
“Well?” Wire said, repositioning you so you were sitting and facing the group. He rubbed your hips fondly. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll make it happen.”
You turned to look at Wire’s dick up close. He was proportional to his height, twice as big as the others at least. There was a single frenum piercing that you immediately went to touch.
“Pay attention,” Wire said, though he made no move to stop you.
 At that point, you had not an ounce of reservation or shame left to be found. “I want everyone at the same time,” you said. “All holes.”
“Ohh?” Wire said. Kid whistled, and Heat chuckled in surprise while Killer leaned forward in interest.
“I’ve…I’ve always wanted to try something like that,” you admitted. “I can handle it.”
Wire bent down to kiss the top of your head. “Alright. We’ll work up to it, but first things first. Sorry to ask, but when was the last time you went to the bathroom?” After you told him, he nodded. “Then we should be fine for anal.”
“And in the meantime…” you said, lifting up on your knees and going to straddle his cock, but Wire turned you back around to face the group, pressing down on your shoulders so you were forced to sit further up on his lap. “Wire?”
“You’re not ready for me yet,” Wire said. “Maybe after another rotation.”
“What?! Come on!”
“Hush.” Wire pulled you back by the hips so you could feel his big cock nestled against your ass, an unfair tease of what you could potentially have had he not been so damn concerned for your well-being.
Before you could protest, Wire ran his huge hands down your body, one of them spreading your legs. Two thick fingers burrowed their way down and penetrated you, the length of them making it easy for him to reach your g-spot with a slight curling motion.
“Oh, fuck!” you gasped, squeezing around his fingers.
“Let’s get this started. For your sake, I’ll condense what we need to go through as much as possible without you getting hurt. Okay?”
“Okay!”
“There’s my good girl.” Wire rewarded you by rubbing your clit with his thumb, making your toes curl. He stopped far too soon as he began his questioning. “Now, what are your hard limits? The things you will absolutely not do?”
“Mm, fuck…Hard limits?” you echoed, trying to think while he had two fingers massaging your g-spot. “Um, um… No watersports. And, no calling me really mean things? ‘Slut’ and ‘whore’ and stuff are fine, though, but I don’t want to be actually insulted.”
“You prefer being teased about what you like, right? Rather than being told you’re only good for sex, that sort of thing.”
“Yeah, you understand. I don’t like being called stupid or useless.”
“Fair enough,” said Killer, one hand on his dick while the other held the blunt to a hole in his mask. “I don’t like that kind of thing either.”
“You can call me a dumb slut any day,” Heat muttered, surprising you and making Kid laugh, “but I get it.”
“And I don’t want to be throat-fucked really hard,” you said. “I want you to use my mouth, but only go into my throat at the end to cum. Actually, I’d rather you came in my mouth than on my face–hhn!”
Wire resumed rubbing your clit again as a reward for your honesty, short-circuiting your brain until he stopped. “Deepthroating once is okay, only at the end. No finishing on your face. What else?”
You continued that way, detailing your limits while getting fingered, with Wire teasing your clit every time you finished answering a question. Wire added a third finger inside you once he moved on to asking you about positions, and by the time the safety discussion was done, he didn’t let up playing with your clit, either. His fingers curled and rubbed against your g-spot in perfect rhythm with his thumb, his other hand teased your chest, and, legs shaking, you came hard into his hand a few blissful minutes later.
“Aw, my sweet little girl can’t stop cumming for her superiors,” Wire praised, turning your head to kiss you. “Love how you use that crazy stamina of yours for us.”
“I’d do anything for you,” you said earnestly, a little drunk on the rush of your orgasm.
Wire blinked for a moment in surprise, then smiled, running his other hand over your head adoringly. “All the more reason you deserve this. Now, clean up this mess you made,” he said, holding his slick-coated fingers to your lips, “and I’ll pass you to Killer.”
You held Wire’s hand in your smaller ones as you licked and sucked on his fingers. He probed inside your mouth teasingly, rubbing your tongue and feeling around, working you back up so you’d be nice and needy for Killer. As if that would be an issue–with the Red Sky in your blood, you knew you could go all night. You wanted to go all night.
“Don’t miss a single spot,” Wire muttered in your ear, and you complied, tongue weaving in-between his fingers obediently. “Do you like how you taste?”
“Uh-huh,” you said honestly, sending a noticeable wave of excitement through the group.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Heat groaned, letting his tongue loll out as he stroked himself.
“She sure makes it look good, doesn’t she, Killer?” Kid grinned. “Why don’t you eat her out later?”
“Yeah,” Killer replied, a breathiness to his voice, fisting himself faster. “I intend to.”
Letting you cool down this way gave you the chance to really focus on watching the others, and you never realized how tantalizing it was to watch the three men you crushed on jack off at the sight of you. Thrilled and impatient, you pulled Wire’s hand away. “I want Killer now.”
Killer growled in excitement at your words, sending a shiver up your spine. Wire took mercy on the both of you, deciding you had done a good enough job. He scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style, and handed you off to the masked man.
Killer, eager to have you to himself for a little while, opted to have you facing him. 
“What the hell, man? Face her forward,” Kid complained.
“No,” Killer said, “I want to see her face when I make her cum.”
He didn’t miss how you squirmed on his lap at the statement, a rumble in his chest. You didn’t know which you preferred–both watching the others and having one-on-one attention was elating, but it would have been better if you could see Killer’s expression. You supposed him wanting you this way would have to be enough for now, though you still longed to kiss him. It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?
“Killer,” your purr was just on the edge of a pouty whine, “won’t you kiss me? Please?”
Killer hesitated just a moment, prompting the others to speak up.
“She’s been so good, Kill, don’t you think?” Wire said.
“Go on, we won’t look,” said Heat.
“No pressure,” Kid added.
Killer’s mask tilted down, and you knew he was looking right at you. “If that’s what you really want.”
“I’ve wanted that for a long time,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance.”
“Can’t say I ever thought I’d get to either.” His large hands rubbed up and down your sides. “Didn’t think any of this would ever happen. You were so…”
“Yeah?”
“Awkward.”
The other three barked out laughs, and you pouted. “Okay, that’s fair.”
“But even before that…” Killer said, one hand tracing the scar on your clavicle, “you were quiet… lonely.” He brought both hands to cradle your face.
Though only faced with the mask, you felt like you could see through it to his eyes. “I’m not lonely anymore,” you whispered.
One of his hands shifted to cover your eyes, and you held your breath in anticipation. A moment later, you felt the soft, smooth warmth of his lips pressing to yours. The kiss was hesitant, uncertain, but heavy with wanting; you parted your lips slightly to give him silent permission to go further. When he didn’t, you poked your tongue out to trace his bottom lip, testing, and Killer responded with a soft groan. He pulled you closer with his free hand, deepening the kiss and finally tasting you, his tongue meeting yours. The touch of the wet muscles released some sort of floodgate within him; suddenly he was kissing you fervently, all that wanting let loose onto you. You felt him pull away, only to press a kiss to your jaw, then your neck, working his way down to your scar, which he dragged his tongue across.
You whimpered, reaching up to dig your fingers into his hair and hold on, core aching with need as he kissed down to your breasts.
Suddenly you felt yourself tipping down, yelping as Killer flipped you lengthwise, your chest in his lap and your legs in the air on either side of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your lower half, firmly holding you in place. There was no warning before he pressed his face into your cunt.
“Ah, K-Killer!” you moaned as he lapped and slurped at the sensitive flesh, tonguing between your folds and into your center. He ate you out with all the fervor of a man starved, his goatee rubbing into your clit as he went.
“That’s one way to cure cottonmouth,” Heat said, prompting Kid to lean over to high-five him.
“Don’t be lazy, Y/n,” Wire tutted, “suck him off.”
“Yeah, suck his dick!” Kid encouraged, tongue sticking out.
“Fuck, o-okay,” you breathed, bracing yourself against his muscular thighs with one hand and wrapping your fingers around his cock with the other. You guided his leaking tip into your mouth. It was warm and smooth on your tongue, the salty tang of pre-cum leaving your head spinning. You couldn’t really bob your head from that position, but you did your best to try and please him, though you felt too distracted by the way he plunged his tongue inside you. Killer, on the other hand, didn’t seem thrown off by the added stimulation, merely moaning into your cunt and continuing his assault on your senses.
“Attagirl,” Heat praised. “Take him deeper.”
“Watch us while you do it,” Wire commanded.
Killer had a slight upward curve to his dick, so from that angle, you found that taking him further into your mouth wasn’t so difficult. As long as you braced yourself, you could handle it without choking. You strained forward, letting him deeper into your mouth, eyes flicking up to meet the others’ gazes as you did. The eye contact tightened the building tension within you even tighter, and your moan was muffled when Killer started sucking on your clit.
“Fuck, there you go, princess,” Kid said.
“Mmff-!” you pulled off of Killer’s dick, gasping. “Gonna cum! Killer!”
Just like that, Killer manhandled you to flip you back the right way up, pulling you down onto his cock all the way to the base. He had his mask tilted partway up, beautiful blue eyes cast in shadow barely visible, but fixated on you. He started bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing, fingers sinking into your hips, the muscles of his arms and abs flexing. Killer gritting his teeth, too lost in the euphoria of fucking you to worry about his face being visible.
“Killer!” you moaned, holding on for dear life, his handsome face in view as you felt yourself climbing to yet another dizzying orgasm. You trembled as it washed over you, and Killer growled when he felt your walls spasming.
“You cumming on my cock, pretty girl?” he said huskily, holding you down and thrusting up into your g-spot.
“Yes, yes, fuck,” you whimpered–somehow, even being the fifth time, it was just as strong as the first. You slumped against Killer, resting your hands on his chest and catching your breath. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before lowering his mask. 
You were still feeling the waves of it by the time Killer lifted you off of him, a rope of slick connecting your cunt to the tip of his dick.
“Do you need a break?” Killer asked, rubbing your back.
“I don’t know? Maybe?” you said. “I’m a bit tired, but it’s weird. No matter how hard I cum, I still want more.”
“At least drink something,” Wire suggested.
“Like cum?”
That earned you a few giggles from Heat and Kid. Wire picked up one of the water bottles on the table and tossed it at Killer, who caught it one-handed and offered it to you.
After rehydrating, you were passed to Kid. Despite his earlier protests to Killer, he faced you toward himself this time. At first you thought this was to torment you more, as he seemed eager to make you say embarrassing things so he could commit the look on your face to memory.
“Who’s your captain?” Kid demanded as he fucked up into you.
“You are!” you cried.
“And who’s your daddy?”
“Ah! Y-You are!”
Afterward, you realized he just wanted to make out while you rode him. Or maybe it was both things, but you weren’t about to complain. It was hard to tell which of you was more greedy; him for offering up this situation in the first place, or you for accepting it enthusiastically.
Heat opted to take you on the ground for his turn in the rotation, pushing you onto your hands and knees and giving backshots that had your toes curling. Finally, Wire agreed to let you ride him, facing you toward the group and letting you lower yourself onto his cock at your own pace. It was a tight fit, he was the biggest you had ever taken, but you had been fucked so thoroughly and came so many times at that point that you didn’t need any extra preparation. It only took a little bit of working yourself down to take him all.
“Theeere you go,” Wire praised as he bottomed out. You shivered at the sensation of being filled so full. He was pressed firmly against your g-spot without even needing to move or angle himself, all it took was you clenching down on him to feel bliss. He chuckled when he felt you doing so repeatedly, bending down to whisper into your ear. “How’s that big dick feel?”
“So good, Wire,” you sighed, resting your hands over his on your hips. The final blunt in the rotation was passed to Wire, and after taking his hit, he held it to your lips so you could take a hit, too.
Wire passed the blunt, then moved your hands to your lower stomach, making you feel the pronounced bulge that was there. You clenched up again at the feel of it. “You know,” he murmured, “I always had a feeling you could take all of me. That you were made for taking cock.”
“Let me see,” Kid said. 
Wire moved your hands away to show off your belly bulge. “You guys wanna take a closer look?” he asked with a lazy smirk.
Before you knew it, the other three had come over to see the spectacle up close, whistling and cooing. You flushed hotter as they felt it for themselves.
“It’s like you were made for us, babe,” Heat said. He stepped even closer so he was right in front of you, then took his cock and rubbed the tip against your clit, making you gasp. It was smooth and slick against the sensitive nub.
“Fuck, Heat!” you moaned, hands twitching, but Wire held them firmly at your sides, not letting you move.
“What?” Heat said. “After everything, you can’t take this?”
“S-Sensitive! It’s–oh god, fuck…”
“Her hands are free,” Wire pointed out to the other two, holding your hands out. Kid and Killer didn’t hesitate, positioning themselves at your sides. Wire guided your hands around their cocks, helping you jerk them off. The group forced you to stay trapped in that position, Wire rocking his hips all the while. Your eyes rolled back; the build was steep and intense, causing tears to form at the corners of your eyes. The others praised you while you whimpered.
“Did you think about us? When you were alone in the shower?” Wire muttered into your ear.
“Yes! I’m, I’m cumming,” you whined. None of them let up, pushing you over the edge yet again.
“How many times is this?” Kid grinned as you gasped and shuddered.
“That makes six,” Killer said.
“About to be seven,” Wire said, reaching around to rub your clit in expert circles. 
“Wire!” You immediately twitched and writhed, but couldn’t get away. “It’s too soon, it’s too soon!”
“You can take it,” he assured, thrusting up harder. Before he was mostly still, this time his massive cock slid in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. You didn’t think you could cum again so soon, but the overstimulation soon went from maddening to euphoric under his experienced touches. Only another minute of you keening, and then you came again.
“Told you,” Wire said as he finally released your hands. “Seven.”
You fell back against Wire, feeling a bit light-headed. Heat patted your cheek and Killer ruffled your hair.
“Still good to keep going?” Wire asked, grinding his hips against yours to draw out your orgasm. You didn’t respond, too fucked-out, still riding the sensation of the little pulses shooting through your core. “I’m gonna need a response if you want this to continue, sweetheart.”
Your voice was small and shaky. “Don’t stop.”
“You heard her,” Kid grinned.
“What do you think, then, Y/n?” Wire asked. “You ready for all of us?”
“Y-Yeah…” you said. “Just…gimme a minute.”
“And everyone else? You all still in?”
The rest of the group gave eager agreements. Wire helped you dismount from him and let you rest against his broad chest. In the meantime, he started directing the others to set up. There wasn’t much to do, just taking the blanket from the nearby bed and putting it onto the floor for some extra cushioning. Everyone took a drink break, and the last blunt was stubbed out on the now-full ashtray. You went to sit in the center of the blanket, and the others followed. There was a brief discussion on how to make the positions work, you were given another check-in to ensure you were okay with the setup, and anyone who hadn’t fully disrobed did so.
Killer laid down on his back, taking your hand as you crawled over him. You mounted his cock eagerly; despite all the prior attention, you were finally getting to try acting out one of your fantasies, and had perked right back up at the chance.
“Nervous?” Killer asked as Kid took up position behind you.
You shook your head. “You know I trust you guys with my life, right?”
“That’s right,” Kid said, pressing a kiss to the tattoo on your back. Then he placed a hand on your back and pushed you forward to expose your cunt to him. He positioned his cock right up against Killer’s, pushing against it and forward to stretch your cunt until it gave way to his, too. You bit your lip as you were filled by both men simultaneously–the stretch was just like taking Wire.
“Who fills you more?” Wire questioned as he took place at your side, taking your hand and putting it on his cock. “Our captain and first mate, or me?”
“I can’t really tell,” you answered honestly, wrapping your hand around the base of him.
“I guess we’ll just have to give you more practice, then,” he grinned.
Heat stepped over Killer, standing in front of you. “Open wide, babygirl,” he purred, and you did so, tongue sticking out like a landing strip for his cock. He eased himself into your mouth gently, cursing when you started to suck on him. The feeling of his piercings on your tongue was fun, a little sensory treat for you to play with.
Kid started to thrust first, Killer waiting a bit to pick up on Kid’s rhythm before he joined him. He timed himself so you were never left empty; if Kid was pulling back, Killer was thrusting in, and vice versa. The two of them were in perfect sync like they’d done this before, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if they had. Between Kid’s grip on your hips and Killer’s hands on your waist, you were held steady so you didn’t rock too far forward, keeping you feeling the full brunt of their combined attack.
“God, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” Heat said, placing a hand on the back of your head and starting to thrust shallowly into your mouth. Now that you had been pushed to make eye contact so much during the rotations, there was no more hesitation from you as you looked up through your eyelashes at Heat, who cursed at the sight.
“Oh, fuck, you look good like that,” he muttered, “sucking my cock while getting railed. You feel so fucking good, shit.”
“Isn’t she just perfect?” Wire cooed, guiding your hand to pump his cock. “Servicing us all with those slutty little holes of hers, and doing such a good job of it, too.”
Your moans were muffled by Heat’s cock, but the sound made the others’ grip on you tighten, their thrusts increasing in force. It was almost everything you had wanted, their cocks a drug to you as much as the weed was–you didn’t think you could feel any better. But even then, with three of them inside you pounding you into oblivion, you still wanted more. During the discussion, Wire made you agree to show you could take double penetration before trying triple. You had no choice but to comply, but like you had told Kid earlier, they had no idea just what you could handle. 
You gave the safety signal with your trembling free hand, holding up three fingers. Wire immediately barked at the other three to stop, and when they pulled out of you, you felt emptier than when before you had started.
“You okay? What’s wrong?” Wire asked. The whole group was alert and focused on you now.
“I took two, like you said!” you cried out. “I don’t want to jerk you off, Wire, I want you all at once, like you promised!”
Wire started to laugh while the others relaxed.
“That’s all?” Killer huffed. “I was worried for a second.”
Kid smacked your ass. “That’s my girl! A true Kid pirate.” He pulled you up by the neck so your chest was flush with his back, growling into your ear. “You’re just a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Need us all right this second, hmm?”
“Fuck, yes, just hurry up,” you whined.
Kid held his hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he commanded.
You spat into his palm, and he stroked his cock with that hand. “Alright, boys, let’s rearrange. Wire? What do you think?”
“I’ll take her mouth,” Wire said. “Too big for triple. Otherwise, first choice of ‘loot’ goes to the captain.”
“Her ass is mine.”
“I’m good here,” Killer said.
Heat joined Kid and Killer behind you while Wire took his place in front. He had to sit up on his legs for his cock to be at the right height to line up with your head.
“First Killer and Heat start, then Kid, so I can keep an eye on her. Once I think she’s good, I’ll take her mouth,” Wire directed.
Killer and Heat penetrated your cunt at the same time, hilting themselves before Kid pressed the head of his cock against your ass. The weed had relaxed your muscles enough so that there was little resistance, but you still closed your eyes at the unique feeling of him entering you there. It had been a while since you played with yourself anally, so adding it to the mix of sensations was a thrill. As Kid filled you up, Heat and Killer noticeably tensed in pleasure, the space inside you growing even smaller with the third addition.
“Tight,” Kid muttered, pulling out slightly before pushing in even further, making you moan as you were stuffed to the brim.
“But she did it,” Wire noted, looking proud. He stroked your cheek. “Sorry to have underestimated you.” You responded by opening your mouth, and Wire grinned. “Little slut. Alright, here I come.”
You could only really take the first two inches of Wire in your mouth, but that was enough, you swirled your tongue over his frenum piercing as you sucked him off. The other three took that as a signal to start. Kid went at his own brutal pace, steady but harsh, while the other two were more gentle as they figured out a good rhythm. At first it was disorganized and more uncomfortable than you had expected, until Wire directed Kid to slow down, and suddenly the other three fell into the perfect pace. At that point, you feared you had no rational thought left, every bit of cognition fucked out of your body. A warm, thick haze fell over your mind as they ravaged you, some part of you finally feeling relief from being used so thoroughly by your superiors. It was the satisfaction of your deepest fantasies coming true. Every nerve in your body was attuned to the feeling of their skin on you, against you, inside you. 
Their desire for you was evident in their desperation, in their hands all over your body, in their praises and groans and whines of your name. At the center of their carnal affection, you finally felt whole.
Wire dug his fingers into your hair, grunting that he was close. You were, too, but you couldn’t tell them as you were. The other three figured it out when they felt your walls flutter around their cocks.
“She came.”
“Fuck, she came again.”
“Good girl, good girl.”
You could barely tell who said what, but the following curse of “f-fuck!” came from Wire, and a moment later, a salty, slightly bitter taste coated the back of your tongue. You swallowed it down without a second thought, fully in subspace and never happier.
Heat came next; you couldn’t really feel it, only noticing once he pulled out and you were suddenly, tragically emptier.
“Just you and me, Kill,” Kid said.
Wire pulled out of your mouth, and you collapsed forward onto Killer, fingers scraping against the curly fuzz of his chest hair.
“Easy, just–mm–relax,” Killer grunted, hands traveling up your sides. “Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel.”
“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you panted. “Keep g-going.”
You rested your head on Killer’s chest as they double-teamed you, content to lay there and be used. It came as a surprise when you felt fingers rubbing your clit–Kid had reached around to tease you.
“One last one, princess,” he said.
“Ah, Kid! I don’t think–” you started, but Kid smacked your ass hard and made your words end in a yelp.
“Trust your captain.”
“Y-Yes, sir.” You hung your head down, breaths coming out short, putting all your focus on your lower half.
“Just a bit more,” Killer urged. “Just a bit–fuck, I’m at my limit.”
Killer emptied inside you with a low groan. Kid didn’t let up, rubbing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, pushing you to the edge with that sheer, brutal determination that he approached everything in life with.
“I’m almost there,” Kid promised. “Cum for me, Y/n, cum for your captain.”
“Kid!” you cried, “Kid, Kid, Kid–!”
You both hit your peak at the same time, you with a tired whimper, Kid with a throaty groan. You felt like you had dissolved into a billion little sparks, unable to do anything but pulse and twitch. Then you went limp, all energy seeming to drain out of your body at once.
“Y/n? Are you alright?” Wire asked, and you responded with a weak grunt of confirmation.
Kid and Killer pulled out, the latter sitting up and supporting you against him.
“Just rest,” Killer said. “We’ll take care of everything.”
“Wait. One last thing,” Kid said. He spread your ass cheeks, a smirk etching itself across his face when he saw the cum leaking out of your holes. “Yeah, that’s good. Nicely done, princess.”
You just pressed your face into Killer’s chest and grunted again. The four men chuckled.
“Let’s get her cleaned up,” Kid said, holding his hands out to you. Killer picked you up for one final pass to Kid, who stood you on your feet and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You look like a fucking mess.”
“Mm,” was the only noise you made, though it still managed to sound sarcastic, and Kid laughed. He detached his metal arm, setting it on the ground, then supported you with his remaining arm as you walked on trembling legs to the bathroom.
Kid started the shower, stepping inside it with you to make sure you wouldn’t collapse. You leaned against him, sighing as the hot water soothed your tired muscles.
“I guess I lived up to my hometown’s reputation after all,” you mumbled into his chest.
“No one gives a shit,” Kid said. “You should be happy you got to do this.”
“I am,” you grabbed the soap and started scrubbing your front. “I just think it’s funny. After all that time, you know?”
“Yeah.” He spun you around so the water hit your front. “After all that time. You were so cold before. I always figured you’d leave after your business was done.”
“I thought so, too,” you said, reminiscing. It felt like a lifetime ago. 
Kid helped you lather soap on your back, then spun you around to let it rinse off. You looked up at him. He was standing over you not unlike that day all those years ago, when you had marched up to him and demanded to join his crew. Except instead of a sneer on his face, there was only a soft look.
You felt yourself tear up. Kid’s expression changed to one of alarm. “Woah, what’s wrong?”
You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”
“You sure? You don’t regret this, right?”
“No. It was exactly what I wanted.” You smiled up at him to show you were fine, even as you sniffled.
“Okay. Good,” he said, looking relieved. “It was what I wanted, too.”
You hugged him tight. “I do have a question, though.”
“What?”
“What was the ‘deal’ you guys were talking about earlier?”
Kid snorted. “Ages ago, we talked about which crewmates we hadn’t fucked yet, and all of us agreed that we would have smashed you if we had the chance. So we decided that none of us would make a move until you did.”
“Is that all? Then why did you get mad at Wire?”
“Because we all know that he’s a huge flirt. None of us believed that you made the first move.”
You thought back to when you kissed him. “We were both drunk, but–yeah, he kissed me first. Despite what he says.”
You and Kid chuckled. After getting cleaned up, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went back out. The others had all redressed by then. You were about to flop into your chair until Wire held his arms out to you. You drifted over and let him pull you into his embrace, resting against him while he massaged your thighs.
“If you want to talk about any of it, just say so,” he said. “Questions, comments, concerns.”
“I just want to eat something that’s not cock,” you said.
The others laughed, except for Heat, who shouted, “Fuck!”
“What?”
“I wasn’t hungry until you said something, damn it.”
You and the other three laughed again, this time at Heat’s expense.
“I could eat all of Whole Cake Island,” you said.
Heat started rummaging around the cabinets in the dresser. “There’s gotta be a list of nearby places to eat–huh?” There was a pause, and then Heat turned around. “Why are there a bunch of condoms in here?”
“Amenities, obviously. Remember what island you’re on,” you said. 
Wire’s hands froze where they were on your hips. “Y/n?” he said, the tone making you nervous.
“Now, listen, Wire–” you started.
“Don’t ‘listen’ me,” he said thinly. “You knew there were condoms and didn’t tell me?”
“Well, you know, I’m still good on birth control, and, uh,”
“It still matters–” Wire realized something, then grabbed your shoulders. “Did you fucking lie so you’d get creampied, you fucking slut?”
The other three howled, and you shrank in his lap, even as you squeaked out, “I’m not sorry.”
“I guess you’ll have to punish her, Wire,” Kid grinned.
“Just let us watch when you do,” Killer added.
“What did you have in mind?” Heat asked.
“Oh, I’ll come up with something.” Wire said. He tickled your sides, making you flail in his lap until you begged for mercy.
“That settles it, then,” Kid said. “Y/n? Before we leave this island, make sure you go get a big bundle of Red Sky for us to take with us.”
“Aye aye, captain,” you said, heart already leaping at what the future would hold.
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novemberheart · 1 month
Text
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{overview} you and John take another step in you relationship, the startling truth about how you see your pack comes to light
{warnings} fem reader, a/b/o dynamics, cursing
Chapter 14 <- Chapter 15 -> Chapter 16
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The situation had been hard for you to rationalize. On one hand you spent the whole night curled into a ball sobbing your eyes out. A few knocks echoed throughout your room, and you politely requested some alone time. They obliged you. On the other hand, you had a hard time taking what Simon said completely to heart. His actions had always shown he had your best interest at heart. You had upset him and he was hurt. His hurt made him say things that may not entirely be true- but what he was trying to convince himself of.
You prayed it was the second hand.
Regardless, you had taken the words hard.
You have been causing a lot of crises this past week. You were attacked, you caused Johns’ rut, and now Simon was pissed.
At this point, it would be a mercy to send you back to where you came from.
Not even a month in and you had turned into a problem. Omegas weren't supposed to be problems. Problems were eliminated.
You whined curling yourself deeper into your mattress. The alarm on your bedside table went off, making you flinch. You pulled yourself out of bed with heavy limbs. You were exhausted. You didn't sleep a wink, you had hardly eaten any food the day before and you were more emotionally drained than you had been in years. You didn't bother changing out of your sleep shorts but threw on a consoling knitted sweater.
You looked at your closet wondering if you should begin shoving all your clothes bag into your duffle.
You were usually alone at this time. Unless one of them had night training and was just getting home. You took a deep breath, hoping that was the case today. You pushed open your door, it getting caught on Simon’s boot. You gasped staring up at him with wide eyes.
Was he still angry?
Was he going to be the one to tell you that you were being sent back?
He cleared his throat, standing up straight so he wasn't leaning against the door frame. He was uncomfortable.
“Hey, pup,” he greeted softly. Any words you could think of got caught in your throat. As you stared at him a conclusion popped into your head, one that hadn't before. He was fine. His eyes were not rubbed raw, his voice not cracking from hours of crying. He had been much meaner to you and it seemed to have no toll on him. He didn't lose an ounce of sleep over it. He probably just rolled over in his bed and decided to apologize to you tomorrow.
It made you mad. Typical alpha behavior. Causing hurt feelings and omegas to spiral without a second thought. You weren't sure you wanted to be around someone so…..so uncaring.
“Simon,” you greeted gently, still keeping the door partly shut. Would he lash out at you again for not being warm to him?
He sighed, clearing his throat.
“I need to apologize to you about yesterday,” He started, his eyes staring down at you. His eyes held no emotion, even though they were big and round. He smelled sincere. There were no warnings going off in your head that this was a trick. “I’m sorry I said those things, even if you hadn't heard them it was not appropriate or even the type of person I want to be. Especially to you.”
That softened you a bit.
“Thank you for apologizing,” you were able to grasp words finally. “I'm sorry I didn't list you as my alpha,” it was your turn.
“Not that I have earned the title,” he added. You remained silent. He cleared his throat again. Did he expect you to disagree? “I would like to work towards it- you seeing me as your Alpha.”
“Of course Simon,” you said quickly. “You have been very good to me in the past, don't think I have forgotten or hadn't noticed.”
He seemed to appreciate the sentiment. He excused himself after, saying he had to get to training. You were fine leaving it there and you felt better about the situation. There was still something that had bothered you, though. Why hadn't you written his name down in the first place?
There was only one reason you could truly think of. He didn't feel like an alpha towards you. That's not to say you hadn't bonded with him over time but he didn't have the same effect on you as John had. All John had to do was look at you and he had your omega belly up and your head tilting back, practically begging him to mark you.
Everyone knew there were different types of alphas in the world. Domineering ones. Modern ones who treated their omegas as equals. Traditional ones who treated them like they were servants. Soft and gentle ones who acted like betas.
John was a provider. He didn't treat you as his equal. He treated you like you were of higher status than him. He was at your service. When you were with him touching a door handle was beneath you. Yet there was that domineering side to him. The part that needed to have control- him needed to have you chipped for example. Yet you knew that was less about ego and more about making sure you were safe.
The truth was, when you thought about your alpha, the first thing that popped into your head was John.
That was why you wrote his name down.
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The rest of the day had been a breeze. You decided maybe you should stay home for a few days to hopefully minimize the trouble you could cause.
You had just changed into your pajamas when there was a knock on your door.
“Hi,” you grinned at John.
“I want to show you something. Put your shoes on,” he smiled, his eyes crinkling. You quickly grabbed your shoes and he held up a coat for you to get into. You slipped your arms in, feeling warm and fuzzy from the gesture. It was one of his, the smell of campfire making your brain lull into a state of comfort. He zipped it up for you, grabbing your hand in his and leading you out the door.
“Where are we going?” you questioned in the elevator.
“It's a surprise, pretty girl,” he asserted, holding back a smirk. You ran your fingers over his knuckles. They were rough and a bit swollen. Years of hard work embedded in them.
He led you down a path you had never gone before, weaving past the training grounds and over to where the offices were.
“Now this is our little secret,” he reminded. You two strayed away from the path, walking towards the treeline. “Need to get you proper shoes.” he huffed, looking down at your flats. You giggled, remembering when Simon had said the same thing to you. You two walked for a while, the sounds of war slowly growing more and more distant. “You cold?” he checked. You quickly shook your head. Despite that, he ran his hands up and down your arms to heat you up. “Just a little further,” he assured. “Here we are,” he stopped suddenly, causing you to furrow your brows at him.
You were in the middle of a forest. What was so special? He put a finger under your chin, slowly tilting your head up.
You gasped, your hands gripping onto his jacket in awe.
A sky full of stars. They took up the parts of the sky that weren't covered by the treetops.
“It's beautiful,” you whispered.
“The base only gets dark enough one day a month to see them,” he explained quietly. You wished you could see this every night. But then, you might not appreciate them. You stared up until you got a neck ache, slowly pulling yourself back to earth. His eyes remained focused on you.
He regrets it. Deeply. Not allowing you into the pack sooner. Granted you had brought with you some challenges- but you were well worth it. You were quickly growing to be an indispensable part of the pack and you weren't even marked yet.
So when you looked up at him it was only natural for him to lean down. You nearly went cross-eyed trying to maintain eye contact. Your eyes fluttered closed and he sealed the distance. It was short and sweet.
A dream first kiss.
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“This is beginning to feel personal,” you whined, causing them to chuckle.
“Not personal, peachy. Just the game,” Johnny smirked. He leaned over pressing a kiss against your temple. You growled at him playfully.
“Easy for you to say. You've plus-four-ed me twice in a row,” you exclaimed, waving your ridiculously large stack of Uno cards in his face. It was Kyle's idea and it started out with a few lighthearted games between the two of you and John. The addition of Simon and Johnny turned it into a full-on attack. After it was John's turn, he put down a reverse card sending the direction of the game back to you.
“Get him, honey.” He smirked at you, nodding his head towards Johnny. The only thing you had that could do any damage was a color changer- if you played it right. You leaned close to Johnny and he quickly reciprocated resting his forehead against yours.
“Interesting tactic,” Kyle chuckled, causing you to giggle.
“What’re we doing right now, Bonnie?” Johnny whispered, his pretty blue eyes lighting up in excitement (both kinds).
“I'm reading your mind,” you whispered back.
“Wanna read my mind in my room later?” he smirked, pressing his forehead against yours harder.
“I choose blue.” you smiled, waiting expectantly.
“Shite, only one I don't have.” he groaned, beginning to grab cards from the deck. You and Simon both celebrated. You for getting him back and Simon because now he was next in line to win.
Simon won, and you all moved into the next round. You crawled around the coffee table so you were sitting in between John and Kyle.
“I took a shower,” Johnny snorted as you moved away from him.
“I'm not being after you!” you explained, grabbing the cards that Simon dealt out. You couldn't stop a smile as you got two plus fours in your pile. You crawled back over to be in between John and Johnny.
“I changed my mind. Can we go this way?” you smirked, twirling your finger in a clockwise motion.
“I'm a bit frightened.” Johnny gulped.
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“You've been giggly lately.” Kyle hummed, the feeling vibrating through your shoulder.
“That's because you keep tickling me,” you whined. As if on cue his lips skimmed over your shoulder and against your neck, causing you to erupt in laughter all over again. “Kyle,” you groaned playfully, pushing him away. “I'm not used to being touched so much,” you reminded. You had never been so physical with anyone before. Johnny and Kyle were always all over you, and John had been growing more and more affectionate. Even Simon had his claws in you when the two of you went out.
“Want me to stop?” he questioned, causing you to shiver.
“No,” you mumbled, burying yourself in his chest. He ended his attack and was content with having you rest on his chest. It was his “day off”- well as close to a day off as they get around here. You yawned, stretching out, your limbs popping back into place. He was tired, his eyes fluttering shut before he abruptly opened them again. “Sleep, Gazza,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his middle.
“I have to get up soon,” he yawned, causing you to whine.
“Night training?” you mumbled. He nodded his head. The front door opened causing you to peek your head up from Kyle’s chest. In came Johnny, shirtless and dripping sweat. You gasped, eyes widening like saucers. “Kyle, your boyfriend is almost naked,” you whispered. Kyle leaned up with you, his cheek pressing against yours. You both stared at Johnny through the kitchen passthrough window, as he gulped down a large electrolyte drink.
“Wow,” you whispered in unison. Johnny's head snapped to where you two were lying and you both quickly shrunk back into the couch. You could feel your heart rate pick up as Johnny's footsteps got closer and closer and closer and……
A large, wet raspberry was blown against your cheek.
“Mac!” you shrieked, wiping his spit away. He chuckled, kissing the top of yours and Kyle's head before heading towards the bathroom. “Kyle, your boyfriend was flirting with me.” you poked.
“Can’t say I blame him, doll,” Kyle chuckled, getting the two of you comfortable on the couch again.
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You could tell something was off the moment he walked in.
You already had a twisting gut feeling you knew what this was about.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he greeted. His large hand runs up and down your back. You leaned into him, your ear resting against the broad expansion of his chest.
“You're leaving aren't you?” you mumbled, your hand tangling itself in his shirt. John hummed in agreement, sitting in the stool next to you.
“Me and Johnny leave tomorrow. Then a few days later Simon and Kyle will have to head out too.”
“All of you?” you sputtered. You thought at the beginning they would take it slow. Not just leave you here by yourself. Especially after what happened last week.
“We should all wrap up fairly quickly, especially Simon and Kyle. Me and Johnny will be gone for at least two weeks, but when we come back we’ll get to go on leave. Think about where you want to go.”
It wasn't much consolation. You knew this was the agreement. You just wished you had more than a month to adjust. It had gone by so fast.
Hopefully, their being gone will go by just as fast.
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Hello friends! Let me know how you feel about the way Simon and Omegas relationship is playing out so far. Or any other thoughts you have about the series. I love to hear what all of you think! See you in two days for chapter 16. 🧡
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tarjapearce · 1 year
Note
now im curious... the making of gabriella o'hara. on the night of the wedding or a complete surprise pregnancy?
Ah, our sweet Solecito ❤️
Let's see 🤭 mild nsfw undercut
"Miguel"
"Hm?" His lips kissed up and down your neck, the prong of his canines grazing your tender flesh, earning a shuddering whimper from you.
"It's not a safe day"
He gave a low grunt as his hands grope and squeezed your breast.
He shrugged nonchalantly "There's condoms for a reason"
"Nuh uh."
"Por favor? Si?" (Please? Yeah?)
"No."
"You just love me to beg, don't you?"
"Yes, but, truly! Is not a safe day, mi amor."
"You can't expect me to be still and not want you when you call me like that and you're ovulating"
"How do you even know I'm ovulating?"
"You forget I'm a scientist, cariño." His fingers tweaked with your nipples before pulling at them softly, earning another gasp from you.
"I keep track on you."
"You're just extra horny today"
"Again, you can't expect me to just look when I've got such a treat before me."
"Miguel-" the groan you were about to give died in your throat as he took your chin and pulled it upwards to kiss you deeply. His trapped manhood pressing on the curve of your ass, an indicator of his raging need.
"I swear..." You squealed as he hoisted you in his arms and rushed to the bed. Your clothes were discarded in a haste, just like his.
"Wait-" He didn't let you finish and he was already kissing and exploring your body with his warm hands.
"Mig-" His tongue invaded your mouth, silencing, a tan thumb flickering over your clit in lazy circles. Body jolting as a shiver ran down your spine.
Trying to reason with him when he was in needy mode was not only futile, but your little pleas enticed him to grope and squeeze you tighter. You had to push his face away to breathe. His hands were already kneading the supple of your glutes.
You tried to appeal to his rational side "Miguel, listen-" But were quickly interrupted by his nimble fingers prodding and stimulating your inner folds.
A whimper and another gasp as two fingers were inside slowly. His mouth latched on your left breast, suckling and toying with it.
"W-We need to be careful-"
"Shh. Whatever happens..." His fingers prodded deeper and rougher into you, "Happens."
Your hands clenched at the sheets, hips bucking and squeezing against his fingers.
Not that you didn't want to have kids, the idea seemed a bit too soon, despite two years of dating preceding you both, kids wasn't something you hadn't even thought about not discussed.
The plans of moving in together were the only thing that were certain.
But none of that mattered as his tongue traced down your abdomen. You were so in trouble.
----
His hands held you tighter while his hips slapped against yours with such force you'd though he'd split you in two. From the many times you'd get down and dirty, you'd learn that his thrust grew rougher and meaner when he was about to cum.
His mouth was too ocuppied biting and marking your neck, to pay attention as what was going on between your legs.
"Miguel!" You choked a sobbing moan as your insides clenched around him, chest heaving in erratic and shallow pants, senses soaring in bliss, but Miguel stilled.
"W-What?" You spoke in between breaths
He gulped a little and a faltering smile crept up his lips.
"Miguel..." Your eyes widened as he trusted deep before spilling himself inside you. A chill rawn down your spine as the hot and familiar sensation pulsed within you.
Oh no
As he pulled out you could see the condom, broken and etched to his girth. A devious smirk stretched on his face.
"Shit..."
"Not fuckin funny!"
----
The two of you looked at the pregnancy test, your hands trembled as the two parallel lines revealed themselves to you.
Miguel's breath hitched and you pouted.
"Told you it wasn't a safe day!" You smacked him softly with a pillow and he cradled you in his arms with a little yet triumphant smile.
"Guess we're stuck together then?"
His voice soft as he took your hand.
"I wasn't leaving you anyways. I'm just... scared."
"Naturally. I am scared too."
"Are you?"
He nodded and rested his hand on your thigh.
"But if you don't want to-"
"Is not that. Just... Im scared."
"You'll be a good mom"
"You think?"
"Yeah. Now kiss me."
"No."
"Why not?"
"You got me pregnant!"
"Might do it again" You smacked him again with the pillow, cheeks flared
"Cállate!"
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lindsay00000008 · 3 months
Text
Ghost x Fem!Reader
Part 1 (Next)
CW: panty-thief, suggestive fluff
DownBad!Simon Ghost Riley who just loves handling the frustrating, mundane, mildly-anxiety-inducing issues in JustAFriend!Reader’s life.
For a man who’s been through… everything, nothing phases him. Not the phone call to pressure your old landlord into giving you back your deposit, not the broken dryer and the giant pile of wet laundry that needs to be hung in increasingly ridiculous locations, not the stray cat birthing a mewling litter on your doorstep in the middle of winter, or the neighborhood’s package thief stealing your delivery of what may be something electric and flower-shaped.
If you didn’t know any better (you don’t), you’d say he gets a kick out of it, how easily he handled these things compared to you. His take-no-bullshit demeanor, coupled with the respect afforded to those who earn it, smooths things over fairly quickly with difficult people.
He’s handy and likes taking things apart — he’s sure you won’t miss the dusty lace panties he finds slipped under the dryer’s barrel when he bullies the metal frame open (they were your favorite, where on earth did they go??)
When the kittens are a few weeks old and Simon comes to visit with more supplies, they snuggle up under his chin as he slumps on the rug, the furious blush from your earlier teasing (“Daddy’s home!”) warming him from his cheeks to his toes and making him the most cozy spot in the room. He waves off the offer of a hot drink and tells you to “Open a window or sumin’, the lil’ bastards are smotherin’ me”.
When he catches the package thief red-handed on his way up to your door — a fourty-something woman who talks at him louder and meaner than anyone has in a long while — he gives his best impression of a bull at the edge of an unmarked field, making his territory known with a wild look rather than words. When he sets the package down on the kitchen counter, along with the ingredients for tonight’s Thursday Dinner Experiment, he prompts you to open it. “Wanna see what my hard work has earned ya.”
You slice the tape and pop open the cardboard before you remember — and slam the flaps back down. That has his attention. “Whatcha got there, lovie?” He crowds in behind you, looking over your shoulder and grinning, lopsided so you can only see the smirk on the left of his mouth when you turn your head to stammer, “uhh n-nothing, just this stupid book someone recommended me. Can’t let the gang know I fuck with hockey romance, haha.”
“Hockey, huh?” He huffs and leans his elbow on the counter, half of his body still behind you somehow. You pull the box close to your chest, hands shifting to best keep it closed.
“Lemme just take this to my room and we can start making-“
“You’d deprive a man of valuable literary experience?”
“No, nuh-uh,” you dance away as he grabs for it teasingly, fast enough to make you panic but not too fast you can’t get away. A play fight. Your pulse thrums fast in your chest, like it always does when he gets that calculating glint in his eye. It’s thrilling, the way his shoulders shift and settle low, and his touch comes gentle and fast, his face a terrifying mask with that piercing glint of playfulness just barely hidden. You usually love this game. But he cannot see this.
His hand rushes towards you as you skirt backwards into the living room, his fingers tangling in the tape hanging from the box. It tears away and you shriek a laugh at his efforts, leaving him with nothing but another opening as you twist to run to your room. But you don’t count on another opponent entering the ring: the rug — trundled up the stairs by the man himself, the previous one sacrificed to the God of Foster Cats — still new and curling at the edge.
He must not expect it either. Before you’ve fully turned you’re falling into the couch, catching his arm in a bid to save yourself. He goes down too, landing atop you. Your “Oomph”s mingle together in the suddenly still air. His big body makes it impossible to breathe until he lifts up on his arms and takes stock of the situation. He eyes snag on the box where it’s fallen, the shiny inner box and red packing grass spilled out on the rug. You attempt to wriggle out before he sees. Your legs are firmly pinned between his own. You wait for him to laugh.
“Well that,” he breathes, not a giggle in sight. He settles his eyes on you with a look of hot reproach. “That is not a book.”
He hopes it’s broken. That’s a problem of yours he’d love to have a hand in solving.
(Next)
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woozyvee · 1 day
Text
hidden touch, secret message
seungmin x female reader
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wc: ~2000
content: established relationship au, smut
synopsis: there's a telltale sign for when your boyfriend is horny.
an: just a result of my mushy hard thoughts about this guy because i've got a crush on him. a late happy birthday to seungminie!
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It's when he touches your wrist that you know.
Seungmin isn't exactly opposed to a little bit of PDA, letting you squeeze his hand or even discreetly kiss his cheek in the presence of others without much fuss. But he's never the one who initiates it.
Well. Except for under some very specific circumstances.
The light touch almost tickles at first and you have to look down to realize that it's your boyfriend who's causing the sensation. You look up at his face with a questioning arch in your brows as his fingertips softly trace the inside of your wrist. But he's not looking at you, focusing on Chan where he's talking across the table, like the rest of his members. Or, pretending to focus, maybe.
Nobody notices the physical contact, as it's hidden beneath the dining table and perhaps that is why Seungmin's caresses become a bit firmer. Seeing as he still isn't looking at you, you also turn away from him to pretend as if nothing is happening, nodding along to whatever Chan is saying even though you've lost track by now.
Laughter breaks out around the table at a comment Jisung makes, mixing with the surrounding bustle of the restaurant and you instinctively join in, doing your best to ignore the shivers that run up your spine as Seungmin's nails drag along your skin. You half-expect his touch to disappear as he's suddenly addressed but it doesn't and by the time he's finished talking, his hand as fully wrapped around your wrist to hold it.
When his thumb starts rubbing against you in gentle circles, you chance another glance his way but are left hanging yet again. You're not sure why he chooses to ignore you. Because you know that he knows that you know what this means.
So your other hand comes over to grab his hand, stopping its movements. It works, as he finally meets your searching gaze. When you raise a quizzical brow at him he simply slides his hand off your wrist, letting it settle on your thigh instead, where he squeezes the clothed flesh softly. He then throws you a quick wink before turning away again.
But he can't hold back the small smile that grows across his lips and therefore, neither can you. Something excited swirls around in your belly, mixing nicely with the feeling of a full stomach after a delicious meal.
With every sip of beer, the anticipation in your abdomen grows in size. With every shift of Seungmin's hand, that same anticipation travels lower.
The only one who you think notices how Seungmin's hand stays hidden under the table for the rest of the evening, is Felix. Because he sends you this suspiciously happy grin which makes you wonder if he also knows what these secret touches mean. You're blushing from that point onward, Seungmin's hand steadfast in stroking your thigh. Either he doesn't notice that you've been caught or he doesn't care; with Seungmin, the latter is more plausible.
Whether Felix knows what this evening has in store for you or not, he's no longer in your thoughts by the time you and Seungmin enter your dim, compact apartment.
"Hey, you shouldn't touch me like that when we're with your members," you scold as you step out of your shoes.
"Why?" he asks plainly, shrugging off his jacket.
"It's mean," you sulk, half-heartedly.
"How so? You like it, don't you?" The look he gives you is knowing.
Your pout turns into a glare. "Exactly! It makes me horny."
"Well, then you're meaner. Because you do nothing and still make me horny."
You roll your eyes, ignoring the way his blunt admission makes you feel. "That doesn't make me meaner, if I'm not consciously doing anything. I can't control that."
"You could make an effort to look uglier."
He meets your squinted eyes with a mischievous grin. "You want me too look uglier, do you?"
"Not really. I don't mind that you're mean," he takes a step toward you and you squeeze the material of your long sleeves. "I don't mind that just looking at you makes me horny."
You raise an eyebrow as he comes closer, his touch hovering over your hips.
"And you," he emphasizes, tilting his head down to look at you from under his lashes, "don't mind when I let you know that I'm horny."
A shiver washes over you as Seungmin's fingers move under your shirt, slightly cold against the skin of your waist where they splay themselves out.
"Do you?" The question sounds more like a statement.
You inhale and exhale slowly, letting him guide you to lean against the wall behind you. He presses his front snugly into yours, the grip over your skin squeezing a little bit harder. By the way his thumbs all but dig into you, you can tell that he's still needy, despite the composed expression on his face. The tip of his nose barely brushes yours.
He raises his pretty eyebrows in question, apparently waiting for an answer.
A sigh. "No, I don't mind."
Your boyfriend smiles before he leans down to kiss you, pouty lips soft over yours.
It doesn't take long for your tongues to slip into each other's mouths, Seungmin's hands sliding up and down your skin with an occasional touch over your covered nipples. You exchange air with your heavy breaths, his hips sometimes jerking forward against his will to let you know how hard he's getting within his jeans. Your hands grab at his shirt, the back of his neck, anything to ground you as you nearly drown in the taste of him.
Seungmin pulls away to look down, lips swollen and breathing labored. His hands leave your skin to unbutton and unzip your pants and you press kisses along his jaw to occupy yourself.
You try not to flinch too hard when one of his hands slips into your panties and slides over your wet folds, whimper caught somewhere in the back of your throat. Seungmin sighs and presses himself harder against you, sandwiching you between himself and the wall.
"Were you already this wet back at the restaurant?"
You swallow. "Coulda put your hand down my pants and found out."
He chuckles but it's breathy, hot against your neck. "So you're just playing hard to get, huh? You scold me but really, you're a bigger perv than I am."
"Is that news to you?" Your voice is strained as he coats his fingers in your slick.
"Hm," he hums, burying his face in your neck to place kisses there. "Guess not."
The plush pads of Seungmin's fore- and middle finger draw delicate circles against your clit and your legs shake for a moment, choked sounds slipping past your lips as you muffle your voice with your tongue. He nips at the crook of your neck with his teeth before softly kissing it better. Both your hands are harshly grasping at strands of his hair, only faltering slightly as his middle finger moves down to dip inside you. You try not to moan but fail, whining into Seungmin's shoulder a bit high-pitched and shaky.
"Fuck," Seungmin sighs, his bite a little harder over your pulse and causing your brows to deeply furrow. He slowly pulls his finger in and out of you, drawing more and more warmth to pool between your legs.
He lifts his hand that's resting on your hip to grasp one of your elbows, dragging his palm along your forearm until it reaches your hand where he grasps it in his, pressing it against the wall next to your head. You no longer try to swallow your moans, letting them fall freely from your parted, glistening lips, into Seungmin's neck. He pulls out of you to focus on your clit again, knowing exactly how to caress it to make you buck your hips.
Your boyfriend turns his head, pecks your cheek. "Does it feel good, pretty?"
"Yes," you sigh, louder than you mean to.
Seungmin kisses your jaw, fingers reaching down to collect more of your arousal before coming back up. You're really sensitive now, squirming with his movements against you.
Before you know it, you feel your release building itself up, something warm and tight twisting in your abdomen. Your mewls become deeper, heavier as you curl into Seungmin's body, rocking your hips in time with his fingers.
He lifts his head to watch you, breath ticklish against your nose.
"Getting close?"
You can only nod, voice too busy whimpering to answer. Your fingers curl and flex under Seungmin's hold where he's pressing your hand into the wall, the feeling of being restrained shooting electricity straight down to your crotch.
"Hm. Should I stop?"
Your eyes shoot open, your view of Seungmin's face blurry from the close proximity. "What- no!" You furiously shake your head.
"Oh? But I thought you like it when I'm mean to you," he reminds you and grips your trapped hand a little harder.
Despite what he's saying, his fingers don't let up and you moan louder, head falling back against the wall with a thud. "Fuck, yeah, I do-"
Seungmin snickers but you cannot find it in yourself to care, cheeks burning as you draw closer to the edge and your free hand grasps his hair roughly. He rolls his hips into yours, a tight groan barely sounding from his throat.
"Since you like it so much" —Seungmin stutters over a grunt— "I can be meaner. I can leave you hanging right now and go jerk myself off in the bathroom."
"No no-"
"No?"
"No please-" Your voice breaks as your hips grind into his touch.
"Oh," Seungmin sighs into your ear. "So you like it when I'm a little nice too."
"Yeah-"
"Okay then." Seungmin kisses your earlobe. "I'll play nice tonight. Mostly because I like when you're already fucked out once I put my cock in you."
Your squirming gets stiffer, involuntarily fighting against Seungmin's hold on you as he works you toward your release. He bites your ear and you almost choke on your own spit, abs curling tightly in your stomach.
"Oh fuck fuck please-"
"Mhm," Seungmin hums, hot breath fanning the inside of your ear. "Let go, pretty. I'll help you through it."
You do and he does.
Strong, tingling waves of raw pleasure contract through your body, rolling your eyes to the back of your head as you writhe helplessly between your boyfriend and the wall he's pressing you into. He holds you as you squirm through your high, fingers gentle over your clit and kisses soft against your cheekbone.
"There you go," Seungmin exhales, digging his hard length into your hipbone through your clothes.
Only when you whine and flinch away from his touch does he let up, pulling out of your underwear to hold your waist with both his hands. He takes half a step away from you, only so he can get a good look at your slightly dazed and flushed face.
He's grinning, ear to ear, absolutely beaming from where he's staring down at you.
You huff, relying on the wall and Seungmin's hold to keep you from swaying. "What?"
"Nothing."
You scoff but can't help the curl at the corners of your lips. "Right."
He leans down and kisses you through his smile, tender and heartfelt. Until his movements turn just a bit rough. He pulls away, voice strained.
"Don't get me wrong, I'd love to stand here and keep making out but I really need to fuck you right now and I'm not doing it against this wall."
You giggle airily as he seizes the same wrist he was touching under the restaurant's table and drags you toward your bedroom.
This is why every time Seungmin initiates PDA, you know you are in for a good time.
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