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arkaiveofurown · 2 months ago

Text

The Only Exception

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Reader

Trafalgar Law, usually reserved and distant, has never been one for physical affection. So why does he let you—naturally clingy and warm—get away with it?

Word Count: ~3,300

tags: clingy reader, fluff, shy law

my masterlist here ♡

The first time you reached for Law’s arm, it was instinctual.

You were walking back to the Polar Tang after a supply run—rain threatening in the sky, your boots slick on the muddy dock. He was a few paces ahead, as always, when you nearly slipped on a loose board. Reflexively, you reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his long coat.

His body tensed instantly, stopping in place.

“Sorry!” you blurted out, pulling back just as quickly. “Didn’t mean to—just almost slipped—”

He looked at you over his shoulder, unreadable as always, but his eyes lingered. His voice came cool and even. “Be more careful.”

That was all. No annoyed sigh, no irritated lecture. Just a flick of his gaze, then he kept walking.

But after that, he started walking beside you instead of ahead.

——

You were naturally affectionate, and Law had learned this within days of you joining the crew. It wasn’t flirtation, not always—it was just how you were. Warm. Familiar. Physical. The kind of person who bumped shoulders when walking, looped arms without asking, and leaned your head on someone’s shoulder without a second thought.

Tonight, after a long day at port, you dropped onto the seat beside Law in the ship’s library. He was already buried in a medical text, as usual. You nestled close without asking—your shoulder brushing his, your legs stretched beside his chair, your presence as calm as the sea outside.

Law stiffened slightly, his eyes flickering from the page. You didn’t see it, but the tip of his ear turned pink.

“Long day,” you sighed, yawning against his arm.

He didn’t say anything—just hummed faintly. The book lowered a little. Not all the way, just enough for him to glance sidelong at you.

He might not have known it, but the warmth of your presence seemed to calm him. In this quiet space, with only the faint sound of waves against the ship’s hull, he was willing to let you stay.

It was different when other people did the same thing. He’d immediately pull away or give a short, sharp remark.

The crew had learned that the hard way—particularly Shachi, who once tried to drape an arm around Law’s shoulder during a card game.

“Oi, get off me,” Law had snapped, clearly irritated. It wasn’t a playful tone, either. It was the kind of irritation that came from someone who didn’t like to be touched—especially by people who weren’t you.

You’d been watching, and when you saw Law’s discomfort, you’d laughed softly. He glanced over at you, eyes narrowed, as though trying to tell you, “Don’t start anything.” But you only smiled, your heart warm at the thought that, with you, it was different.

Now, when you reached to rest your cheek on his shoulder, he didn’t lean away.

Instead, his fingers twitched slightly against the edge of the book.

You didn’t need him to say anything. You could feel it—the way he held still for you, how he never once pushed you off. You weren’t sure if he liked it, but he let you do it.

——

The next day, you were helping Shachi in the storage bay, sorting spare tools and bantering back and forth. He said something stupid—something about using a wrench as a weapon in a bar fight—and you couldn’t stop laughing, slapping his shoulder and leaning against his back.

It was innocent. Harmless. Like how you treated all your close crewmates.

But someone else was watching.

Up on the walkway above, Law’s footsteps paused. He was heading to his quarters with a logbook tucked under one arm—but at the sight of you and Shachi, he stopped.

Just for a second.

Then, calm and deliberate, he called down, “Shachi.”

The crewmate straightened like a soldier. “Y-Yeah, Captain?”

“You’re behind on engine rotation reports. Five hours late.”

Shachi blinked. “Oh, I thought Penguin—”

“I said five hours late.” Law’s tone was even. Flat. Dangerous.

Shachi flinched. “Right! Right! I’ll get on that—sorry, Captain!”

He bolted from the bay, practically forgetting the wrench in his hand.

You turned toward Law, surprised. “Was he really late?”

Law didn’t look at you directly. “No,” he said.

You blinked. “So…?”

He adjusted the book in his hands, still calm. “Just tired of his voice.”

That was a lie. An obvious one.

Your brow lifted, but you didn’t press.

As he turned to walk away, his voice dropped—barely audible:

“Don’t lean on him like that.”

You stared.

But he was already gone.

And later, Shachi would mutter, “I swear I almost got Room’d into the freezer…”

——

Later that evening, the crew was winding down. You sat beside Shachi again, elbow-to-elbow, watching Bepo try to balance spoons on his nose.

Law sat at his usual corner seat—book in hand, drink untouched.

Then came the flash of blue light.

“Room.”

Suddenly, you were gone from the table and seated beside him.

The crew went quiet for a beat, startled. You blinked at your new surroundings.

“…Really?” you muttered, turning to Law. “You Room’d me?”

“You were in my seat,” he said blandly, not looking at you.

“This isn’t your seat.”

“It is now.”

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious.

Across the room, Bepo coughed pointedly. Penguin mouthed, jealous.

Law didn’t look your way, but his fingers tapped against the tabletop—close to yours.

You didn’t move away.

——

A storm rolled in that night—the Polar Tang rocked gently, water pattering against the hull. You found Law still awake in the infirmary, sitting near the window, watching lightning flash over the ocean.

He didn’t react when you entered, just glanced over.

“I thought you hated distractions,” you said softly.

“I tolerate some.”

You stepped closer, pulling your blanket tighter around your shoulders. “You can say you missed me. I won’t tell.”

His lips twitched. “I didn’t.”

You sat beside him anyway. For a while, you just listened to the storm.

Then, you reached out—slowly—and took his hand.

He didn’t move.

“Y/N,” he said quietly. “You really don’t notice, do you?”

You tilted your head. “Notice what?”

He stared at your joined hands. “That I only let you touch me like this.”

Your heart stuttered.

“You think I’d let anyone else pull this clingy crap?” he muttered.

You blinked, caught off guard by the statement. “…I didn’t think you liked it.”

“I don’t,” he said immediately.

There was a pause. His mouth opened like he was going to say something else—then closed again. He shifted his weight, suddenly restless.

“…But I like you.”

The world seemed to slow.

You stared at him, wide-eyed. For a second, you weren’t even sure you heard him right. Law didn��t say things like that—not plainly, not easily. But there was no mistaking the way his gaze dropped, or the faint flush climbing up his neck.

“Wait—what?” you said softly, heart hammering. “Say that again.”

He stiffened, eyes snapping back to yours, and in that exact moment, you saw the regret flicker across his face. Like he wished he could suck the words back in, stuff them into a drawer and lock them away.

“…Say what?” he asked, but his voice lacked its usual edge.

“That you like me,” you said gently.

He turned his head away, one hand flexing at his side. “…You misheard me.”

A smile curled at the edge of your mouth. “Liar.”

A long, tense silence.

Then finally, he sighed. “You’re persistent.”

“I am,” you agreed, stepping closer.

He didn’t move.

“I’m annoying,” you added, pressing your palm to his chest.

He looked down at your hand. “Definitely.”

“And clingy.”

“The worst.”

You leaned up, whispering against his jaw. “But you still like me.”

He hesitated.

Then, barely audible: “Yeah. I do.”

You smiled.

“Then prove it.”

And this time, he kissed you first.

——

Not much changed after the confession—at least not in public.

You still clung to Law whenever you felt like it. When no one was looking, he’d reach for your hand first. He’d Room you to his side without a word. Let you nap on his chest, fingers tracing his tattoos like they were secret maps made just for you.

And one day, when you leaned teasingly on Shachi during a crew card game, Law didn’t interrupt.

He just walked over, placed a quiet hand on your shoulder, and spoke without looking at anyone.

“She doesn’t belong to anyone else.”

You turned, startled by the sudden words.

Law met your eyes. Calm. Certain.

“Only exception,” he murmured, so soft only you could hear.

You stared at him, heart skipping. Then you smiled—slow, warm, full of affection—and leaned into his side where he let you stay, unbothered and unwavering.

Captain Trafalgar Law might not have liked touch.

But with you?

He made room.

#law x you #law x y/n #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #trafalgaw law x reader #trafalgar law x oc #trafalgar water d. law #one piece fluff #one piece reader x you #one piece x y/n #one piece fics #one piece x reader #heart pirates #Spotify

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arixella · 25 days ago

Note

Can i get some soft romance fluff forbAce abd reader. Like soft domestic work like patching up his wounds or clothes on the ship and him just falling more and more in love with them

Stiches and Sunlight

╰┈➤ pairing: Ace x gn! reader

a/n: hope you enjoy this requesttt, also guys I got everyones request its just taking me a while to write bc there's so many + the drafts I already have to edit!

summary: While quietly mending Ace’s clothes aboard the Moby Dick, you share a tender moment that blossoms into a heartfelt confession, deepening the love between you both.

wc: 1.4k

contains: fluff, soft romance, domestic, emotional vulnerability, tenderness and quiet romance

The Moby Dick rocked gently beneath your feet as the sea lapped lazily against her hull, sunlight streaming golden across the deck. You sat cross-legged on a crate, needle in hand, a half-mended shirt spread across your lap — familiar, well-worn, and unmistakably Ace’s. The tear along the seam looked fresh, probably from some reckless fight or wild adventure he hadn’t bothered to mention.

Typical.

You shook your head with a fond smile and pulled the thread through again.

“Is that mine?” came a voice, low and teasing, from behind you.

You didn’t need to look up to know who it was. That warm, lazy tone always made your stomach do a little flip. You just hummed in response, still focused on your stitching. “Mm-hmm. You tore it again.”

Ace plopped down beside you, the scent of salt, sun, and smoke clinging to him like always. He didn’t wear a shirt — he rarely did — but there were fresh scrapes along his arms and a bruise forming near his ribs. You gave him a side-eye.

“I see the shirt’s not the only thing that got torn up.”

He blinked at you, then followed your gaze down to his side. “Oh. That? That’s nothing.”

You raised a brow. “You say that every time.”

“And I’m right every time,” he grinned.

You gave him a flat look, and he laughed, the sound bright and boyish, before he leaned his head against your shoulder. “You worry too much,” he mumbled, voice softening.

“Someone has to,” you muttered, threading the needle again.

Ace didn’t answer right away. Instead, he just watched your hands work — fingers nimble, gentle, focused. You were always doing this: mending things. Clothes, wounds, moods. Picking up the pieces the rest of them left behind and quietly, lovingly putting them back together. He didn’t think you even realized how much you meant to all of them. To him.

“…Y’know,” he said finally, almost shyly, “you’ve probably stitched me back together more times than Marco has.”

You gave a soft chuckle, your head tilting against his for just a moment. “That’s not exactly a compliment.”

“It is,” he said, serious now, his voice low. “You take care of me.”

You paused, needle hovering midair. He wasn’t usually this quiet. Or this… open.

You turned to him and finally met his eyes — dark, warm, and watching you like you were the sun on the horizon. He looked different in the light. Softer. Sweeter.

“I don’t mind,” you said after a heartbeat. “Taking care of you, I mean.”

His smile faltered for a second — not out of disappointment, but something else. Like the weight of what he felt was pressing against the inside of his chest.

“I think…” he started, then looked down at his hands, calloused and still dusted with ash. “I think every time you do, I fall a little more in love with you.”

Your breath caught, your fingers stilling.

Ace didn’t look at you. He didn’t need to. He just kept talking, words a little rushed now. “Not just when you patch me up. It’s when you laugh with Thatch in the kitchen, or sit with Izo to help with sewing even though you hate it. When you take time for everyone, even when you’re tired. When you remember everyone’s favorite snacks after port. You… you make everything feel like home.”

You stared at him, the sun casting a golden halo across his shoulders, and you realized: he wasn’t joking. There was no teasing smile. No smirk.

He was just… Ace.

Unfiltered. Honest. Vulnerable in a way only you got to see.

You reached for his hand, warm and strong in yours. “I love you too, y’know.”

He blinked. “You do?”

You nodded. “I think I have for a while.”

He looked stunned for a moment — like he hadn’t really expected you to say it back — and then his expression melted into something so tender, so full of wonder, that your heart ached with it.

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes slipping shut. “You have no idea what you do to me…”

You smiled, brushing your thumb over the back of his hand. “Probably the same thing you do to me.”

The wind tugged at the sails above you, and somewhere on the deck, someone shouted and laughed, but here, in this quiet little bubble, it was just you and Ace. Just sun-warmed wood, the scent of sea and smoke, and the steady, quiet rhythm of hearts finally in sync.

“Come here,” you said, tugging him gently.

He let you pull him closer, settling between your legs, his head resting in your lap as you ran your fingers through his hair. He sighed — a long, content sound — and closed his eyes, like this was the safest place in the world.

And maybe it was.

You looked down at him, at the way the light danced across his freckles, and pressed a kiss to his temple.

“I’ll finish sewing later,” you murmured.

“Mmh,” he hummed, arms wrapping around your waist. “Stay like this a bit longer.”

You did.

And in that quiet, sunlit moment, love wrapped itself around you both — soft, sure, and everlasting.

♡♡♡

#anime #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece ace #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #ace x y/n #portgas ace fluff #ace fluff

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super-ion · 8 months ago

Text

The Engineer

Part 1

I catch a glimpse of the pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes have that telltale glaze of just having been wrenched out of herself.

I've never spoken a single word to her, but for a moment as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She raises an emaciated arm and her hand almost seems to beckon to me before something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips back into catatonia.

That brief moment of clarity, that piercing gaze, unsettles me. She recognized me.

It's neural bleed. I know it has to be. She doesn't know me, but Morrigan does.

Good god. In the pilot's present state of post combat haze, she probably doesn't even know where she ends and the machine begins.

Does neural bleed work both ways? Is it her head that I'm about to climb into?

My wrist strap buzzes. I have a job to do and I am late.

The pilot is a problem for the med team and the psychs.

The machine is my problem.

I hurry down the corridor, keeping my head down, avoiding the eyes of every passerby.

I don't like people.

I don't like how their eyes follow me. I don't like the whispered gossip that follows me.

One of the techs is waiting for me at the vestibule.

I don't know his name.

All clear, he says to me. Time to work your magic.

He says it without sarcasm. Others have been less kind.

Even so, he can't quite hide the leer as I strip down to the skinsuit. I don't have the physique of a pilot. My body hasn't been subjected to the stresses that ravage their bodies. Unlike them, I have fat and muscle and the skinsuit clings to every curve of my body.

I force a cursory smile and try to forget him as I walk barefoot to my destination.

The vestibule is small, windowless. It's impossible to assess the scale of the machine from here. The only part visible to me is roughly four square meters of pitted and scarred metal plating framing the access hatch and the pilot's cradle beyond.

B0-987T the stenciled lettering reads. And below, in flowing script, is “The Morrigan”.

She's a Javellin class, medium weapons fire support unit. She isn't meant to be on the front lines in a skirmish, but one-on-one, she can hold her own against a Wraith. Which is exactly what happened only a few hours ago.

I place a bare palm on the bulkhead. She thrums with some distant vibration. Her reactor is still online, still in the early stages of drawdown as she transitions to dock power.

“Hey beautiful,” I say to her.

I think of the pilot. I think of piercing blue eyes and I think of neural bleed.

I flinch my hand away.

The tech looks at me, asks if I'm alright. I'm fine, I tell him.

I climb through the hatch and into the cradle.

I feel like an interloper here. The cradle isn't calibrated for my body. Everything still smells like the pilot. Mingled with the smell of the machine is her sweat and her adrenaline and the particular scented soap that she prefers.

There is a faint whirring as her cameras track my movements from a dozen angles. The access ports open to receive me.

Against my better judgment, I imagine eagerness for this exchange.

This is immediately followed by an all too familiar sense of inadequacy. The engineers’ rig is not nearly as all encompassing as a pilots’. It's only the most basic neural interface. No haptics. No neurotransmitter feedback. No access to the suite of sensors studded throughout her hull.

I can't interface with her the way her pilot can.

My rig is a remnant from basic training. The pilot corps wanted me for my exceptional ratings in synchrony and neuro-elasticity, but after serval training exercises, they determined that I didn't have the temperament for the battlefield. I froze up too easily.

A neural rig is a massive investment and removing one will fuck a person up a hell of a lot more than installing one. The selection process is designed to weed out washouts before we even get to installation, but some of us still slip through the cracks. Most end up reassigned to logistics, operating loader mechs or piloting long haul supply frigates. But my aptitudes made me ideal for the engineering corps, so here I am.

Morrigan senses my mood and the cradle shifts slightly, aligning itself to my dimensions. Her eagerness to connect morphs into a sort of tender reassurance. It's a slippery slope, ascribing human emotions to these machines, but she does seem genuinely happy to see me.

I can never be part of what she and her pilot have, but I can be part of something in my own way.

The pilot knows about me, she would even without neural bleed. Does she envy the relationship I have with her mech? Does she envy that I can exist both together and apart with the machine?

Is she jealous of us?

Morrigan slips her jacks into my rig and my mind enters hers and I feel tension leave my body. Some dull ache that I wasn't even consciously aware of ebbs within me.

My senses dull and my visual cortex is fed a series of diagnostic logs and telemetry streams. The techs have access to the exact same data, but Morrigan highlights particular data points that she and the pilot flagged. I log them in the engineering report.

A wireframe schematic of the battlefield spreads out in my awareness. Green markers for our battlegroup. Red markers for the pack of Wraith interlopers.

I hear the ghost of music, strange and ambient, like whale song. The first time I heard it, I asked the techs about it. They had no idea what I was talking about. One even suggested I get an eval for some psych leave.

Later I realized Morrigan was singing to me. Or rather she was interpreting tightbeam comm links as something my brain could process. A human mind can't possibly interpret the full datastream, but with Morrigans's rendition, I can suss out the basic meanings. The battlegroup is a choir and Morrigan is playing me their song.

I caused quite a stir when I first made that connection and started flagging battle events the analysts had missed.

I survey the battlefield before me, reconstructed from feeds from TacCom and all the individual mechs.

Morrigan and I have done this enough times that she knows my preferred display layout, but she holds back, allowing me to pull off the virtual displays on my peripheral vision. There's an odd sort of intimacy to it, her letting me take charge like this.

God-knows how many tons of metal and ceramic and miles and miles of wire and optic fiber and see waits eagerly for me to start the playback sim. She wants to show off. She wants me to assess the actions of her and her pilot and tell them they did well.

Other engineers, few as we are, have mentioned similar experiences with their assigned machines.

“Alright,” I whisper so that only she can hear. “Show me the dance. Sing me the song.”

(Next)

#my writing #writers on tumblr #mechposting #science fiction #scifi #short story #snippet

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fanaticsnail · 10 months ago

Text

Five Days

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,900+

Synopsis: Temperatures flaring between a marine and their prisoner brought the two of you to this moment. In charge of the former-admiral's prison transfer, the sweltering heat propels you to do something against protocol. You give in to your temptation, and allow him to give you what he threatened he would.

Themes: Aokiji Kuzan x f!reader, gendered terms used, mdni, 18+, smut, nsfw, inappropriate use of devil fruit, inappropriate use of seastone, coercion, swearing, unprotected sex, oral sex, marine x pirate, enemies to enemies that fuck, kisses, subtle Dom!kuzan x Sub!reader, pet names used, summer temperatures, tipsy writing, temperature play, pirate!kuzan x marine!reader.

Notes: This fic is dedicated to a dear friend, @skullfacedlady who needed a reward for all her hard work in studying. I hope you enjoy your man like this, love. Come get him. This is a part of my October event, but I wanted to give Skullfacedlady a gift because I'm so proud of her.

The sweltering heat swelling the brig of the vessel stung and cracked your skin. The perspiration dripping beneath your marine hat did little to cool your face and body, especially due to the weight of your heavy uniform jacket. The remainder of the crew had made port, leaving you and another officer behind on the topdeck to keep guard of the ship in case there was an incident involving you and the detainee in their cell behind you.

As a lieutenant, prison duty was not your usual forte, yet it was your given task for the past five days. Drawing the short straw in the meeting with the other members of the crew had you seething: likely what had the temperature searing your veins with the slight simmer of rage. Standing with your back to the brig, you attempted to ignore the presence who continued to attempt to goad you into a verbal spat for the umpteenth time.

“Go on, little one,” the smooth voice calls from behind you, causing your lip to upturn in a twitched curl, “Take off your jacket. It’s hot out, and you don’t deserve to be more uncomfortable than you already are.”

Aokiji Kuzan, the admiral who served his severance to the marines in favor of joining Blackbeard’s crew, was a thorn in your bootheel the moment he stepped aboard. A fly buzzing in your ear would make for better company than the sweet-talking man in the cell. You were a marine, and he was a defector turned to piracy. These past five days, he had been pressing you with comments and flattery with a smoothness to his tone that you hadn’t experienced prior. Always balancing on the knife’s edge of being overly seductive, while a complete gentleman the next. It repulsed you, enticed you, agitated you, and aroused you. You hated it as much as you loved it, and that, in itself, drove you wild.

“The prisoner will refrain from speaking in the presence of a marine,” you offered monotonously to him in a practiced response, ignoring the trickle of sweat pasting your hair against the nape of your neck. The heat was bordering on unbearable now, the thick air stinging at your nostrils with the burn of the embers.

“Come on, honey,” he whispered softly, his tone almost harboring empathy, “It’s just you and me. I'm not gonna tell anybody, I promise-.”

“-You promise?” You cut him off, tilting your head towards him. Thankful for the shroud of your marine uniform cap, you were able to glare at him from beneath the shroud as you scorned him, “A promise from a pirate whispered through iron bars means very little to me. Especially from a deserter.”

“Ah, so that's it, then,” Kuzan nodded. His dark, tight curls now loosely framing his face with a wave-like bob to his motions. “You’re offended I renounced my orders and took to living for myself.” He chuckled, leaning back against the wooden hull of his cell with a cocky air to his tone.

Kuzan had long-since shrouded his heavy jacket, likely before the seastone shackles were placed on his wrists, halting his abilities. You were made vaguely aware of his powers, one of which was the ability to grow a prosthetic for his missing left leg from an element. He was exceptionally tall, far taller than you at full height. From his place sitting hunched against the cell wall, he could easily meet your breasts at his eye height.

Although his skin glistened with sweat from the heat, his demeanor was always cool and collected. The former admiral seemed to radiate a calm, and this agitated you to no end. The purse of his lips, the curl of that edge of his smile, the ease his eyes seemed to put you - all of those weighed heavily on you as the burning air entered your lungs and expanded your chest.

“Tell me what about it you're so offended by,” he quipped with that curious edge in his tone, “Let's put it to rest so you and I can really talk, officer.” Aokiji Kuzan took a moment to gaze at you. His eyes lazily drank you in with an almost entertained twinkle in his eye.

Turning your head back to face the wall in front of you, you took a deep breath to calm your nerves. His tone haunted you. That cool edge in the blistering heat did more damage to your already alight temper.

“I have nothing to say to you, oathbreaker,” you snarl viciously, your head upturning to add further emphasis to your attitude. “You will remember your place, and hold your tongue.” Expecting silence to be met with your order, you recoiled completely as he goaded you further.

“Why don't you come in here and hold it for me, marine.”

The way he spoke with such an air of confidence prompted you to completely meet your eyes against his. If you could strike him dead with your haki without causing a strike to your record, you would have done so in a heartbeat.

Before you had an opportunity to utter a word in rebuttal, he revealed his palms in surrender and fell his eyes to your feet in submission.

“Accept my apologies,” he uttered quickly, pausing only to take a heavy gulp of air through his lips. “It's hot, tempers flare, and I'm pissed off about the seastone. My devil fruit power would be useful right about now, and we'd both reap the benefits. Please,” he turned his eyes up, meeting them against yours with that honesty behind them that held you transfixed, “I didn't mean to offend you. I just-... I've been in here for a while, and it just seems to be getting hotter and hotter.”

You took a moment to search his eyes, your own forming an analysis regarding his demeanor. Kuzan meant every word, and you truly believed he meant no harm. In honesty, he had been a model prisoner through his entire ordeal. Well mannered, polite, and cooperative: Kuzan did not engage with any of the other guards in this manner.

In a sigh of good faith and understanding, you sigh through your nose before removing your heavy uniform jacket and cap, placing them on a mop handle reclining against the wall. Each button popped slowly, his eyes wandering over each one with interest.

“Apology accepted,” you crack a small smile, raking over your hair to remove it from your eyes and shake the sweat from it. “And it's not ‘officer’, it's ‘lieutenant’ to you. For those of us who still respect titles, you will uphold mine.”

Kuzan clicked his tongue in understanding before smiling at you. He drank you in as he would a cool glass of water, glistening with condensation from the ice melting within.

“Lieutenant,” he smirked at you, waving his hand against his forehead in a mock salute. You decided to match his energy, raising your own and uttering, “Severencer.”

Turning back around to face the wall, your jacket and hat removal now making you feel a little more at ease in the humidity in the brig. You continued staring vacantly in that silence, ignoring the pair of eyes that never leave your body for a moment.

Externally, Kuzan was doing just as you were: fighting off the heat as best as he could within the depths of the ship. But, likely unlike you, fighting off the heat of another kind.

He had never seen a woman as physically beautiful as you were before, and he is a connoisseur of women. Kuzan prides himself on loving women, appreciating them from afar, and hoping they would be as interested in him as he was in them. With you: the enemy on a vessel binding him for capture, wearing the very uniform he discarded to chase his own destiny; he was unbelievably angry.

You were so physically close, but unattainable by him. If he remained as a marine, and had you met under different circumstances, he may have had a chance of a different life with you. Kuzan calculated the statistical likelihood of having you in his arms after work, wailing for him in the thralls of ecstasy while he pleasured you, and the thought had heat pooling in his belly that rivaled the atmosphere surrounding the two of you.

Rivals bound to be enemies with one another: his end being met at the end of a rope with his legs helplessly dangling beneath him, likely a trial to hold him accountable first and made an example of. Would you be present? Would you even care? Those thoughts momentarily shrouded his mind before his eyes focussed on the curvature of your ass now more revealed without your uniform jacket.

If he was a man bound for death, he craved to have you near him, just once, in any capacity. Now he’d managed to convince you to remove one layer, how much more could he get away with before you stopped.

“Lieutenant?” he gently called to you, his voice holding an edge to it that felt like a purr, “May I trouble you for some water?”

Inhaling deeply, you clicked your neck in a rotation before turning around to face him once again. Your scowl had resettled on your face as you looked to the canister in the corner of the room.

“What’s wrong with the one over there?” you asked, curiosity momentarily piquing in your tone. His smile upturned dangerously, his full-lips goading you with the sinister smirk threatening to spill over.

“Evaporation,” he explained, gesturing to the vessel with his bound hands, “Tends to occur when it’s hot like this. Have you any to spare for a lowly defector?” Growling in response under your tone, you made to the other side of the cell and filled the jug left behind for those working security for the day.

Dunking the vessel into the barrel, you felt how physically warm the liquid was and scowled at it.

Noticing the expression on your face, Kuzan groaned below his breath. He could change it to make it cooler. He could change the entire room to make it cooler. He could think of a variety of things he could do with you to make the stay more bearable, but he held his tongue. Watching as you traveled over to his cell, he took a note of where the keys to his cuffs were on the ring you unhooked beside his cell door.

“Stay where you are, hands where I can see them at all times,” you stated in a low warning, “Make a move, and I will drink the entire container while you have no choice but to watch, you hear?”

“Yes ma’am,” he pursed his lips, revealing his palms beside his head with his knuckles scraping against the wood behind him, “I’ll be a good boy for you.”

Electing to ignore the connotations laced behind that comment, you took to the side of the cell and peered into the empty container to ensure it wasn't a trap before replenishing his supply with the fresh one from your jug. You both trailed one another with your eyes, the tension returning between you while the menial task was completed. Taking a moment to study him, you noticed how truly attractive he was. From his tall stature, to his dark curls, down his lengthy body, down to his remaining foot extended on the floor: Kuzan was incredibly handsome, and you hated how hot his gaze made you feel as it lingered on your body.

“Stop gawking at me like that,” you snarl at him, watching in the corner of your eye how high the jug raises the volume of the water. He continues to rake his eyes over your body: truly enjoying the display of flesh you’ve elected to reveal to him.

“Like what, lieutenant?” He slowly bats his eyelashes at you, tilting his head to the other side and pursing his lips innocently. Your glare hardens, your face falling stern and serious as you bore your eyes into him.

“Like I’m some meal to you.”

He chuckles at your choice of words, feasting on your body with each passing moment while shamelessly undressing you further with his eyes. Kuzan truly no longer cared whether you filled his water canister or not, opting to drink you in in lieu of water any day.

“Oh, lieutenant, you are a meal to me,” he uttered seductively in response, “And I haven't eaten this well in quite some time.”

Five days.

Five days of the heat swelling the room. Five days of being in close proximity of Aokiji Kuzan. Five days of tension between you rising. Five days of ensuring he remained alive and healthy for transport. Five days of thinking about him every night while you remained in your joined barracks with your fellow marines. Five days of being unable to release the tension pooling between your thighs to not be caught by your comrades.

Five days of tolerating his comments, his words, and the way he made you feel both validated and violated with his flirtatious comments aimed towards you.

“If I had my powers right now, I could cool you off,” he whispered huskily, his bottom jaw dropping as he gawked further, “Anything you wanted, baby. I would give you the world if you’d let me-.”

“-Stop it, prisoner,” you warned him, your temper teetering on the edge of your resolve, “Final warning.”

Chains rattling broke you from your simmering rage, his bound wrists rattling as he drew them down over his thighs. His lip curled high, both snarling and smiling at you with desire being the swelling embers behind his darkened eyes.

“Warning for what? I am offering you a reprieve from the heat,” he tilted his chin up, looking down through his eyelashes at you, “Remove my seastone, sweetness. Let me show you how good I can cool you off.”

Snapping, you discard the jug and allow it to roll to the floor, water tipping onto the wooden panels surrounding you. With all the strength you could muster, you gave in to your rage and approached him. Using your foot, you press it against his chest and shove him firmly back with your boot heel. Holding him firmly pinned against the wall behind him, you lean more pressure onto your leg and stoop lower.

Having the upper hand on a former admiral lasted for less than a heartbeat before he took his shackled wrists and nudged your foot easily away from his chest to fall beside his thigh. Given the position prior with your entire weight placed onto your foot, you fell unceremoniously onto his lap. Each leg easily took their place framing his thighs beneath yours, eyes now level.

There was no opportunity to scream, snarl, or growl a reprimand at him before his lips collided messily with your own. Groans and whimpers fell easily from his lips as he attempted to hold you flush against him with his bound hands. His kiss was lustful, passionate, and aggressive: his former cool-headedness all but fleeing him the longer his lips lingered on your flesh.

“Desserter-,” you snarl angrily into his lips, attempting to pull away from his hard kiss to no avail.

“-Kuzan,” he moaned into your mouth, tilting his chin and circling your face, “My name is Kuzan. Use it.” The short hair on his chin and upper lip grazed the skin of your face with his passionate exchange.

In lack of your better judgment, you had no choice but to whine into his lips as he ordered you. His admiralty tone still found purchase in your head and reverberated in your obedient marine soul. Temperatures finally flaring enough, you roughly grip his dark curls and yank them back. He released a gasped groan in response, his lips still attached firmly to yours as he didn’t fight the feeling of your hands laced in his hair.

“Take off my cuffs,” he barked at you, his chains rattling as he attempted to grip your thighs in heavy fistfuls, “Now.”

The way his words held your judgment in an anchor made you feel as if he was using some kind of haki to dominate you. You knew that wasn’t the case. The slick pool of arousal dampening your panties spoke in prologues to your neediness of him. Your fingers moved against their will, your mind screaming at you to think with anything other than your pussy as you drew your shaken hands to unclick his shackles: all the while his kiss pressed into your lips with vigor.

As soon as his seastone fell easily to the floor, you both pulled apart and took a moment to gauge the way the other was feeling.

You just unshackled a bound prisoner, simply because he had baited you with a few suggestive words. That suggestion led you to disobey a direct order and follow the way your emotions ran rather than to heed to your call as a marine and chastise him for poor behavior.

Kuzan knew he could run. He should use this time to escape now. Convincing a needy and repressed marine to unshackle him took a long time, but his charisma lucked out with you. He could push you aside, trap you within the cell, escape to claim his freedom with the nomadic lifestyle that came with piracy. But he couldn’t.

Not with the way your clothed pussy felt against his lap, and certainly not with the intensity the heat made the both of you feel.

That realization only met you both for the bat of a butterfly’s wing before he was on you again. Hungry lips swelling yours with the intensity of his bruising kiss, Kuzan pushed you onto your back on the warm floor. Your undershirt stuck to your skin with the sheen of sweat glistening in your skin, desire fueling your passions in the midst of the moment.

When his lips pried away from yours, kissing a hot trail down your neck, your skin began to tingle beneath his cool breath. The seastone now released from your prisoner’s wrists returned his devil fruit ability to him with full fruition. The tenth titanic captain of the Blackbeard pirates was cooling your skin beneath the intensity of his heated kisses. Each time he mouthed at a pinpoint of your body, the coolness shrouded your skin and shot relief to your soul.

“Kuzan,” you gasped his name as he mouthed at your pulse with the heavy neediness, “N-No marks, please-.”

“-I know, baby,” he whispered against you, moving down to mouth at your pale undershirt, “Nowhere visible above your uniform. I'm aware.” His possessive growl was ripped from his throat when his trail was halted by the material, “Remove this and give me something I can mark up. I want you.”

The air began to thin with his ability cooling the atmosphere around you both, but the thickness of passion between you continued to build in intensity. As you reached down and gently placed your shirt to the side, he hastily drew his hands to your belt and expertly unbuckled the fastenings with a few quick swipes. You gasped out a squeak in protest, but it was quickly stifled by his lips colliding with yours once more.

He used his body weight to stamp you to the floor as you shared breaths. As the heat of your needy exhales expelled from your lips, the cool vapors of his own replaced the ones you lost.

“Thankful we lost the cuffs?” he smiled against your lips before tearing them away and searing his eyes into your body. You curled your lip and bucked your hips up, trapping the back of his knee beneath your heel and switching positions. Pinning the prisoner beneath you, you glared down at him while circling your hands around his wrists.

“I'm regretting not chaining you down to this floor and riding your face until I'm satisfied,” you quip back at him. Left in your bra and panties, you felt his hands draw up and sneak his fingers beneath the hem and play with the flesh of your ass.

“I don't need chains for you to do that, baby,” he purred up at you darkly, “Take a seat, and I'll have you screaming for me.” He annuncified the statement by slapping your ass before molding the flesh beneath his hands.

You were unsure whether you should be offended at his words, or aroused further by them. He was your prisoner, you his guard, him an ex-marine admiral, you a lieutenant rising in the ranks. Weighing up the options, you quipped your head to the side and allowed passion to once again guide you.

Crawling up his long chest, you tugged your panties to the side and revealed your glistening pussy to him as to test how serious he was. Accepting your challenge, he gripped your thighs and immediately pressed you down onto his face and licked a fat stripe from your slit to your clit in one lengthy motion. You sucked in a silent scream when he continued to slowly and passionately collect your essence into his tongue without protest, romancing your core with each intentional glide of his skilled muscle.

“Kuzan,” you whined in a breathy gasp, causing him to chuckle up into you. His eyes never left your face as he used his hard grip on your much smaller body to rock your core against his face.

“That's it, pretty girl," he praised you, his hands disappearing beneath the material of your panties to press your body further against his lips. Muffling his words up at you, he continued, “Get off on your prisoner's face. Let me feel you.”

Given how pent up you had been watching over Kuzan for the past five days, the coil in your abdomen bound tight quickly. Stomach knit in heavy knots, your pussy fluttered against his lips and tongue and he mouthed at you. Alternating between latching onto your clit and swirling his tongue against it, before drawing his face down to fuck your needy cunt with his tongue while nosing at your clit, Kuzan’s eyes never left you.

You were gorgeous. Everything about you was gorgeous. From the curvature of your breasts, to the shape of your ass, to the partition of your lips, to the hue of your hair: he loved it all. And he hated that he did.

“More,” he growled up into you, “Give me more, lieutenant. Cum for me. Cum on my tongue.”

Focussing on your clit, he mouthed at the small bud while concentrating a small coolness onto you. The combination of the coolness of his devil fruit with the warmth of his tongue tipped you over that edge.

Dancing on the edge of ecstasy, one more rotation of his tongue around your clit and you were cumming hard on his face. Muscles of your stomach tensed and flexed as you rode through your high. His steady hands splayed on your ass cheeks as he guided you expertly through your release.

Just as you came down from your high, you were met with a crude shock to your large joy.

Ice bound your wrists and flung you to the wall behind you. Knees drawn up to your chest, black flush with the wall, he bound your body to the wood with his devil fruit. Your eyes rounded in shock, body still sensitive from riding through your bliss to process what was happening.

The prisoner bested you. He was going to escape, you were going to be punished for your insubordination, and your career was to be ruined. As he rose to his full stature, you had no choice but to watch as he dusted off his pants and produced a shard of ice to extend from his absent knee down to the floor.

You had released your prisoner, and after cumming so hard on his lips, he was going to leave you in your bra and panties against the wall for your superior to find.

Tearing your eyes away from his face and clenching them tightly shut, you felt shame wash over you like a cool bucket of water. Your body was still twitching in soft aftershocks as you heard the rustling of materials. Assuming he was donning his shirts and personal effects, you were shocked to feel his lips on your neck and bare chest flush with your own.

Your eyes reopened, quickly finding purchase on his thick curls as he hummed against your skin.

“Thought I'd leave you like this, didn't you?” he sighed against your skin, “No way, sweetness. Not when I haven't felt the way your pretty pussy wants so badly to take my cock. Nuh uh.”

“You-...?” Your breath was stolen from you as he dragged his cockhead against your sensitive entrance. His height at full stature was over nine feet tall, and the circumference of his cock was enough to have you whine as he rocked it against your panties.

“I know.” He nodded his head against your clit, “I'm big. But you can take me, can't you?” Tugging down your bra, he groaned in bliss as your breasts were freed from the shroud of the material.

The ice spread your legs, moving beneath the will of its master to hold them apart for him. He rocked his hips, against your clothes cunt, groaning as he did so. Ice cracked and swelled, dragging across your stomach and binding you to the wall. His lips traced down to your nipples: swirling, tugging, and releasing them with a taut pop.

“You want this, don't you?” Kuzan purred against your skin, “Tell me you want this. Big pirate making a little marine feel so helpless. Say it. Say ‘I want this, Kuzan’.” He drew his lips up to your neck once more, trailing a flurry of kisses towards your jaw while his ice toyed with the border of your nipples.

“Say it.”

“I want this, Kuzan.”

The words spilled from your lips before you could tell them not to. You were bewitched by him, possessed by a lust that you had never known. His smile was felt against your jaw as he drew his eyes up to meet yours. Tugging aside your panties once more, he lined up his cock with your entrance: soft beads of pearlescent precum beading in need at the slit.

“That's my girl.”

Those three words were all the warning he gave you before his lips bit and ravished yours. At the moment his rough kisses met with your lips, gasping and growling against your mouth: his cock softly rocked into your core. You whined desperately into his mouth as he pushed more of his cock inside to the ridge of his rim.

No matter how rough his kisses became, he was so careful with his cock pressing inside you. Kuzan knew how small you were in comparison to his stature, and he would never dream of injuring you in the thralls of passion. Although he was a pirate and you were a marine, he treated your body with the respect you deserved.

Five days of being close to you. Five days more for longing. Five days longer still for yearning. And five days longest for how many nights he fucked his fist to the thought of claiming you as his in the quiet of the night.

Finally passing that first ridge, your body took him like it was made for it. It was Kuzan’s turn to whimper into your neck, shuddering as he buried his face into your neck and cock into your pussy. Sinking down to half his length with little resistance, he became lost in the way your pussy sucked him in. Rocking against you, he gasped into your ear.

Eyes wide, you had never felt so full in your life. While he was your enemy, you had never felt a touch as gentle as his. He was so careful with his cock that you could take him, while he toyed with you with his devil fruit.

“Look down,” he whispered, “Look how deep you're taking me. How well you're taking a pirate's cock.” Doing as he ordered, you looked down and watched as his hips rocked in slow, languid thrusts. Cock disappearing within your cunt, you gasped out as you took him within you.

“Like being fucked by a filthy pirate?” He quipped, his cock sinking deeper, “Pretty marine getting her pussy destroyed by her prisoner. Come on, tell me you w-want m-more.”

His stutter gave out his hardened experior, his bliss truly being lost to him with each marriage of degradation and praise. He tried not to show how much he was enjoying this moment stolen with you.

As soon as he got you off once, he had no doubt he was going to flee from his cell and claim his freedom. But he was in love with the way you cried out for him. He was obsessed, consumed with longing for your release joining with his.

Sensing this dynamic shift while being bound to the wall, you decided to goad him into more.

“Does the filthy pirate want to show the marine who's boss?” you whispered against his ear, biting at the lobe and attempting to rock against him to the best of your restrained ability. “Does the filthy pirate want to fill his marine with his cum? Pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” he parrotted back, his hips snapping with more purpose, “Does this feel pathetic to you?” His pace increased, his desperation more tangible with each in-thrust.

Ice eclipsed both your nipples, only giving way when he dipped his lips down to roll your pebbled bud within his hot mouth to contradict the cold with the warmth. You mewled beneath his lips, your pussy fluttering beneath his harsh momentum.

Coil building further in your abdomen, you felt another orgasm approach you with a low build. Kuzan was nearing his peak, his cock already beginning to expel sticky waves of precum within your stomach. Kuzan was becoming sloppy with his movements, his balls sucking up into his stomach the closer he became to his release.

“Gonna cum, Kuzan?” Your question fled from your lips like a needy whine informing him you were reaching your end, “Gonna fill me up with your cum? Go on, pirate. Tarnish me. Ruin me.”

“Nnnnghh- fuck,” Kuzan growled into your neck, biting just below to collar to anchor himself to you, “Gonna cum. Gonna- fuck, I'm cumming. Ah-, shit.”

Ropes of viscous cum met with your cervix with his verbal confession, his hips rutting against your core and giving in to the feeling of your cunt fluttering around his shaft. As he met his peak, you met yours. Walls contracting around his shaft, you cried out for him while he filled you.

“Hhah- cumming,” you warned him, your pussy sucking him in with every wave of your secondary ecstasy. Milking him of his cum, your cunt squeezed his thick cock as you both met the waves of your highs in the arms of one another.

The dancing lights split your vision white, just as it did his own. You had never felt the way you did in the arms of this former admiral, nor did he buried deep within the pussy of a marine lieutenant. As you both finished, he slunk his head forward and collected you into his arms. Ice cracked like glass, the shards dropping to the ground and simmering like embers against the floorboards.

He ushered you onto the ground, sitting back on his calves and holding his cock deep within your pussy. Both panting and catching your breath, you sat within the shared breath with the man who ushered you into twin highs in close succession. Dwelling in the silence, your hearts beat as one as the heat dampened down between you both.

“You have a fifteen minute head start, former admiral,” you sighed, stroking his cheek with your palm. He blinked slowly at you, taking in your words while coming down from his high.

“What do you mean-?” He began, halting beneath your interruption.

“-It takes the average marine seven minutes to shake off haki,” you nodded, pressing your forehead against his and brushing your noses together, “You conquered me. I was helpless. Do you understand, pirate?”

Kuzan was taken aback, shaking his head and searching your eyes. You nodded against him, your smile slowly splitting up your cheeks.

“I conquered you?” he asked softly.

“Knocked me out completely,” you laughed in response. Gently pressing your lips to his forehead, you unsheathed his cock from your pussy and began to collect your things. “You have fifteen minutes to redress. Get to it before I catch you.”

“Catch me?”

You smiled as you gathered your uniform into your arms. Kuzan, the former admiral he was, was truly clueless when he was spent of his release. Balls and head both empty, he reached for you in craving of your touch.

“Kuzan,” you warned him, “You escaped your shackles after you found the strength to conquer me. You collected the keys, unbound yourself, and fled. You left me alive as witness to your escape.” Kuzan understood, nodding along as he came to terms with what you were expressing to him.

You were enemies. An ex-marine turned to piracy, and a marine in charge of his capture. Both of you knew how wrong this was, but your bodies couldn't help but to sing how right it could be. He could never give up his freedom for you, and you would never turn to piracy for him. No matter how your bodies felt together, and how easy the intimacy came to you both: you could never be together like this.

“Fifteen minutes?” He asked you, halting to cup your ass in his firm hands, “Is that all I'm worth to you?”

Rolling your eyes in response, you playfully slapped his arm while you scampered to find your uniform.

“You're lucky I gave you more than nine, pirate,” you snarl at him, “I gave you that extra six for making me cum twice.” Kuzan laughed, finding his effects and beginning to don them while you fixed your uniform up.

“I will see you again, lieutenant,” Kuzan whispered while fixing his belt at the waist, “And when I do, I am going to make you cum so hard you'll renounce your vows and join me in piracy.”

“And when I find you again,” you warn in return, “You're going to cry for me while I show you that quips and taunts are not all I can do with my tongue.”

Kuzan gulped, truly wanting to experience that thought while he shrugged on his heavy overcoat. You began affixing your coat once more to your persons, making sure each button was marine-issue ready. He watched on with a shudder to his jaw and a feral urgency in his eye that craved that meeting between now and then to become smaller.

“Until the next time, then,” Kuzan offered with an extended hand. Placing your hand within, he drew your knuckles up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss against it.

“Until I see you again,” you responded in kind, nodding to him as he released your hands with his kiss. The temperature began to fluctuate between you. The weather mixing with Kuzan’s abilities made for a more pleasant atmosphere between you currently, but the heat between you would continue to grow with every passing moment.

Both of you couldn't wait until the next time you saw one another again: both hoping you could truly best the other.

Only time would tell.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

#one piece #x reader #October event 2024 #aokiji x reader #aokiji kuzan #kuzan x reader #one piece x reader #x f!reader #aokiji kuzan x reader #one piece fanfiction #skullfaced snail #love you honey

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mochinomnoms · 1 year ago

Note

Half asleep past midnight ramblings because I saw a pirate AU mentioned and I know you like Jade so like

Yuu drops stuff off the edge of a ship and into the ocean by accident - maybe some kinda mushroom-shaped pendant idk. And jade ends up catching it and misinterpreted the exchange as a courting gesture somehow. And now Yuu keeps on getting dragged out to deck by the rest of the crew because this bigass mer with bigass teeth keeps jumping aboard and snarling at anyone who approaches him except for Yuu for some reason

And Yuu just keeps having to drop what they're doing to nudge what seems, to them, like quite a placid merman off the deck and back into the ocean, wondering why they specifically have to do that and not believing the rest of the crew when they describe Jade as 'A hissing monstrosity that tried to take a chunk outta my arm!' etc. etc.

Anyway they have a collection of random ocean trinkets that Jade keeps giving them or something. And also Jade saves them from drowning. Floyd follows Jade to the surface once and then there's an issue with TWO mermen tryna hang out on deck but only tolerating two specific crew members and one is the angry redhead who ends up looking super amusing trying to drag a slippery, troublesome eel to the edge of the boat so he can get back to whatever he should be doing

Sorry about the rambling - and sorry if it isn't coherent. My brain needs something to do since I can't get to sleep rn lol.

I don't know a whole lot about pirates other than what I know from my video game...but from I am aware! They spend at least weeks if not months out at sea! I like to think that it takes Jade sometime to watch and actually fall for someone, while Floyd is the one more prone to love at first sight fight

When you guys are around at sea, slowly making your way to the next port, you're not super surprised you've been followed by a pair of merfolk.

They're known to be curious, but unless they're sirens, they're likely to keep to themselves.

But these two have been following the ship for quite some time now, like they're after something specific.

They're practically identical, just a few things like their gray strands of hair and their bi-colored eyes that help with differentiating them. The more excitable of the two seems to be most invested in chasing after your boat.

You can't understand the clicks, chirps, or squeals he makes, but you do notice how excited he gets when your friend Riddle, a crewmate who ran off from home, is on the deck. Riddle seems annoyed and will often yell at the merman, telling him to go away and stop following.

Though the big guy just looks so happy to see Riddle that you think he isn't able to understand human speech. If you had to guess, you think he was following after Riddle. Not sure why though.

You almost forget about the other one, with how quiet he is. You encounter him after dropping a cute little mushroom pendant that you got from a port shop a while back. The moment it plopped into the dark water in the dead of night, you were absolutely devastated. You even took some spare rope and wrapped it around your waist in a tight knot before scaling the side of the ship to carefully make it down to the water.

Hoping and praying to whatever sea god lorded over the current waters you were in that the water was shallow and pendant not lost to the deep, you failed to notice the soft teal aquamarine glow emerging from the water.

When you finally do turn to look at the water, you just about screamed at the upper hand of one of the mermen's face staring at you. Pressing yourself against the wooden hull of the ship, you stared back at him, not even daring to blink, as if he would suddenly lunge at you if you looked away.

Not an unwarranted fear; you and the rest of the crew had seen the way those sharp teeth and claws torn apart large tuna and annoying seagulls.

You think this is the more quiet of the two, based on the lack of reaction and the strand on his left. He seems more quizzical than playful, compared to whom you think is his brother. His eyes flicker down to watch the way your chest moves up and down as you try to calm your breath. He stares for a bit before flickering back up to your eyes, where he resumes his chilling stare.

What felt like hours, but was probably minutes, passed as you two played what was essentially a staring contest. Eventually, made due to boredom, or maybe he was satisfied after studying you so long, his right hand came up from the water clenching something. He gently opened his hand to reveal the golden mushroom pendant, complete with your gold chain and everything.

"Oh! You got it, uh, can I have it back?" You asked, pointing at the item in his hand.

The merman slowly rose up the lower part of his face and upper chest now visible. Looking at him up close, you could understand why they cautioned sailors to keep their distance from all sea folk.

Such pretty faces, it's no wonder people willingly drown themselves just in an attempt to be with one.

The teal colored merman watched as you carefully reached for the item in his hand, only to jerk it away and make a laughing sound. You think it was laughter, based on the smirk and squinted eyes he gave you. You huffed, reaching for it again, only for him to swam back again. His laughter was growing louder, seems that he was just as mischievous as his brother, just sneakier about it.

It almost sounded musical to your ears, too bad you were too focused on getting the pendant back to admire it. Eventually, the creature was far enough out of your reach that you were barely touching the ship with the tip of your toes. It seemed like he wanted you to fall into the water as he playfully splashed at you with the tip of his tail. You knew he was playing, if he really wanted you in the water, that tail had more than enough strength to wrap around you and drag you in.

But still, you wanted that damn pendant back! He seemed fascinated by the mushroom itself and the detailing on it. His claws kept tracing over the ridges and he was studying it intently when he wasn't staring at you. He's probably never seen one before. That's when a brilliant idea popped into your head!

Gesturing him to wait, you climbed back up the rope, turning back every time to check and see that he was still there. The big guy seemed a bit annoyed, disappointed even, that you were leaving. No matter, you'd be back soon enough with a bargaining chip.

It takes a moment for you to finally make your way back up, huffing and your arms straining from pulling your self up. Riddle, bless his heart, had rushed out after hearing your scream earlier and was pacing around the deck waiting for you to return.

"There you are! I saw you with one of the mermen, did you get hurt? Do you need medical attention? Come to the infirmary, I'll check you up—"

You waved him off, struggling to undo your knot, blurting out something about you being fine and needing to trade. Finally managing to stumble into the sleeping quarters and to your cot, digging against your blanket and bags to finally find a small pouch.

Smiling at your victory, you ran back up to the deck to find Riddle struggling with the rope and one of the mermen. You're pretty sure it's the other one: his strand is on his right side and he's a lot more vocal as he tried climbing up the side of the ship using the rope and digging his claws in the hull.

Poor Riddle was struggling to get the merman's arms off of his, the latter's grasp tightening the more he struggled to get out.

"Damn it Floyd! I told you! Leave!" A kick. "Me!" An inhumane yelp. "ALONE!"

The merman looked almost disappointed as Riddle finally managed to kick him in the face and crawl away from his grasp.

Riddle was heaving as he glared at the pouting merman, watching as he finally lost his claw grip in the wood and slid back into the water with a loud splash. You helped your friend up, checking him over for any stratches or bite marks.

"So it is you that they're following! I'd been wondering way they were so focused on our ship, but how do you know his name?"

Riddle sighed, nodding his head. "I apologize. I was hoping that he wouldn't remember me from our childhood, it's been so long, but..."

He dragged his hands over his face in exasperation. "He has a perfect memory when he wants to. He used to visit the reefs near my hometown, I ended up meeting him there when I was younger. He was so annoying! Liked to poke and prod at me anytime I visited the beach, I thought I finally managed to get rid of him when I left home, but it seems that he's found me."

"How can you understand them?"

"Ah, they can speak and understand common tongue. They just choose to feign ignorance." Riddle muttered to himself as he slipped off his now soaking jacket.

You watched your friend as he wrung out the water in his clothes from who you now know is Floyd. Pursing your lips, you looked toward the rope, now splayed across the deck, and move toward it.

"Do you know the other one's name?" you asked, tying the rope back to your waist.

"Hmm? His twin? I think it's Jade, why do you want to—what are you doing?"

Riddle suddenly stood watching in horror as you slipped over the ledge of the ship once again.

"He's got my pendant, gonna get it back—"

"No! You going down there is how Floyd got up, get back here!" Riddle marched over, stomping his foot and reaching for you just as you jumped. "I'll get you another, one with rubies in it—HEY!"

Using the momentum from the fall, you planted your feet against the hull as you landed against it, looking down at the water again. This time, both mermen were watching you as you climbed down, though the one you though was Floyd looked upset and bored, swimming up to the hull to make small crying noises to Riddle, you assumed.

As you got closer, the one called Jade came closer, apparently interested that you returned. Once you were finally within each other's reach again, you gestureed for him to come closer.

By this point, his brother was behind him watching curiously as you held up the pouch in your hand, opening it and revealing a white button mushroom.

Jade perked up, looking between your pendant and the mushroom in your hand. You pointed at the pendant in his hand, before remembering what Riddle said.

"Oh yeah, he said you could understand me." Jade didn't betray that he understood you, though his ear fins twitched as you spoke.

"Uh, if you give me that—" you still pointed to the pendant, just incase he was wrong. Though Riddle rarely was. "—then I will give you this!" You pointed back to the white mushroom in your hand.

Jade looked excitedly at the mushroom, nodding as you two traded. Sighing in relief, you pulled the chain over your neck and tucked it into your shirt. You readied to climb back up to the ship again before glancing at Jade.

He was poking at the mushroom, turning it round in his fingers. He seemed almost childlike in his wonder with the fungus, it was almost cute. Right up until he tore it in half and dropped it into the water, watching it float.

"What, no!" You whined, startling him as you gestured between him and the mushroom.

"No! No, no, no! That's a waste of a perfectly good mushroom! Do you know how hard it is to get those at ports? You're supposed to eat it!"

Exasperated, you opened your pouch again and handed another to Jade, though this time he eyed your hand warily.

"...What? Do you think I'm gonna posion you? Look—" You tore it in half, like he did earlier, and popped one half into your mouth. "Shee? Yummy!"

He still looked doubtful as you chewed. Rolling your eyes, you extended your arm out to his face, making him jerk away again.

"Just, try it! Come on!" You pushed against the hull again, on your tiptoes, as you held out the mushroom towards his lips.

"I'll even feed it to ya! Say 'aaaah'."

Jade looked at your open mouth and, you swear on your soul, blushed before looking away. He thinned his lips, eyes flickering back at you again with an almost shy expression. Floyd, in the background, was staring curiously, before making a chirping sound. Jade made a similar sound back, before looking at you between his lashes and bashfully taking the mushroom from your fingertips.

You tried not to jump from his teeth scraping you and his cold lips brushing against your skin. Instead, you stilled yourself, holding your breath as he chewed.

"It's good, right?"

Jade paused swallowing and slowly nodding before opening his mouth.

"Yes, it's quite...nice." You were surprised how smooth and human his voice was. It as almost soft, a stark difference from his sharp ends and edges. Pleasant.

You shook your thoughts from your head. You refused to be one of those lovesick sailors.

"Right...well, thanks! I'll be, uh, heading back now."

You actively chose to not look back as you climbed up, though perhaps you should have. You could have seen the way Jade watched you, like your were Aphrodite emerging from the sea foam to the land.

"What I tell ya Jade?" Jade continued watching you climb up, eyeing the way Riddle dragged you to the boat, though he flicked his ear fin towards Floyd. "I told you that the lil shrimp was just your type!"

Floyd giggled as he swam on his back, circling his brother. He paused to listen to the way Riddle was yelling at you. So cute.

"Aren't you glad you joined me? I get my Goldfishie, and you'll get a little Shrimpy out of it! Mama and Pops will be so happy when we bring them back home!

"Yes...we'll have to do it soon though." Jade smiled as he watched you and Riddle peer over the edge. You waved at him, and he back at you. His smile grew as you excitedly waved even harder speaking to Riddle before your friend dragged you away.

"The farther we get, the less time we have to return to Azul. His water-breathing spell will only last so long."

"And whose fault is that?" Floyd scoffed, flicking water at his brother in annoyance. "I wanted to take my mate and his friend since day one, you're the one who wanted to 'study' them and stuff. I know you best, if I tell you that the shrimp is perfect for you, you oughta listen!"

Jade glared at Floyd, who stuck his tongue at him, before softly laughing.

"You're right Floyd, of course you know me so well." Jade stared back up at the ship, as if his gaze alone would beckon you to return to him. "The water's warm, there's a storm coming from the east, where they've been traveling."

Jade dove into the water, his brother following him.

"The storm is large and coming soon, and the wood over here is damaged." Jade gestured to a part of the hull that was starting to rot, water slipping in. "If we cause the ship to take in more water, it will sink. They only have a few of those smaller boats, and much too many crew."

Floyd grinned as he caught on to what his brother was implying.

"Everyone will probably be scrambling to get on them boats—"

"Precisely, and with the chaos of a storm, will be much too busy to notice two of their crewmates snatched by a pair of mermen."

The twins shared a conniving laugh, following the ship into an unseen storm in the dark of night.

Something that few people ever mentioned, as it was quite rare, was that once a merperson fell for someone, they also were determined to drag them into the deep, never to be seen again by the people of the surface.

#mochi asks #twst #twisted wonderland #jade leech #floyd leech #riddle rosehearts #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #floyd x riddle #pirate au

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creepycrawliesanonymous · 1 year ago

Text

Addam had taken to calling you "wife," and you weren't about to correct him.

You weren't married, you could never find the time, and it wasn't like anyone was raring to go crying to the sept over it. The people of Hull, at least the people you interacted with, rarely made a fuss over such improprieties, and even had the decency to throw a groat or two in your cap whenever you put out a pot of stew for the dockworkers and looked the other way whenever you would curse burning yourself on the cauldron or hock some phlegm in the dirt or take a hearty swig from your flask. Some of the men told you they had never had fish stew that tasted quite like yours did, and you weren't about to tell them your recipe, so your infractions seemed small in the face of loosing out on the way the fish meat would fall apart in your mouth or how the potatoes were always soft but never mushy.

It had only taken Addam one trip to your little makeshift stand for him to start pining after you, gifting you that flask that you now took everywhere. It was made of sturdy leather, with a small seahorse painted somewhat poorly on one side, and it was given to you already filled with spiced rum. You had made sure Addam's portion had extra meat in it that day. The way his face broke into the biggest grin you'd ever seen told you everything you needed to know.

So yes, you weren't married, but he still called you "wife" and gifted you small trinkets and spent meals at your shack and kissed you when he saw you in the morning, as well as other things that were frankly nobody else's business.

Addam had set out early in the morning, just before the sun rose, with his sieve and other tools to go clam digging. You liked that he worked with his hands, and told him as much when he brought up how soft a lord's hands might be and how much nicer they might feel against your skin. You shoved your calloused palms into his, ending the conversation. He let you sleep in, careful to tiptoe around your living space as he collected his wares. He liked the way your kitchen always smelled like the spices he pinched from his brother's trading cog, and how you placed the small curios he gave you around the windows where you could look at them. He had heard of Lord Corlys Velaryon's Hall of Nine, displaying the treasures from his nine voyages, and thought it couldn't be better than the treasures you kept in your windowsill.

There was a chill in the air, a breeze that made Addam pull his tunic tighter around himself. He recalled how the blanket you used was starting to wear thin, and how the sea breeze would wake you soon without him there to keep you warm. The docks of the port town were already filled with men, loading and unloading boxes, taking inventory, haggling prices with the local merchants, the general bustle of seafarers and sailers. Cod and herring were the main catches coming off the fishing boats, and he knew you would stop by later to pick up some to take home.

The beaches were comparatively quiet, with only a few other men digging around for clams. Poking around, he found a few small depressions in the sand, before settling in and getting to work.

The sun was over the horizon by the time you had made your way down to the beach, slightly stale bread in one hand and basket in the other. Addam stuck out a hand to wave you down, and before you had the chance to say anything, he dropped a pale pink shell into your basket. You fished it out, dropping down to sit beside him as you thumbed over the ridges of the body and poked at the spire. You held it up to the rising sun to see the way the colors changed, before pocketing it.

You cut a piece of bread from the loaf, handing it to him. It would be no use in warning him of its staleness, he wasn't like to complain. He took the piece gratefully, as if it was baked by the cooks in High Tide itself, although you could see the effort he had to put in to ripping off a piece in his mouth. You took your thumb and brushed away the crumbs that stuck to his cheeks. His is a handsome face, you thought, one you wouldn't mind letting people think was your husband's. The chill stung at your skin, and you pulled your knit cape close around your shoulders.

Standing up, you shook the sand from your boots and patted down your skirts. You took a swig from your flask, letting the rum warm your chest. Leaning down, you pressed a kiss to your husband's forehead, and he leaned up to press his own to his wife's cheek. While he felt a pang in his chest as you picked up your things and headed into town, he couldn't deny the contentment in watching you. In those moments he felt like he understood the stories of sailors crashing their ships at the sight of beautiful women-beasts, although none of the sailors could ever hope to know the warmth of their hearth or the grit of their sharp tongue, and none could call a beast "wife," so what could the stories know of ship-wrecking love, anyways.

#addam velaryon #addam velaryon x reader #addam of hull #addam of hull x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #i would apologize for all the stew talk but i'm actually not sorry about it

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driverlando · 1 year ago

Note

Port authority finding you and Max skinny dipping (and Max is protecting you from them seeing anything they should not) and Max brides them not to report the two of you

The moonlight danced on the water’s surface, casting a silvery glow over the sleek yachts lined up along the port. The night was quiet, save for the gentle lapping of waves against the hulls and the occasional distant hum of an engine. You and Max walked along the dock, the cool night air a welcome relief after a hot day.

You paused, glancing at the calm water with a mischievous glint in your eye. “How about we make this night a little more exciting?” you suggested, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Max arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What did you have in mind?”

You leaned in closer, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Skinny dipping,” you whispered. “Just us and the water. No one around to bother us.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “You’re trouble” But there was no hiding the spark of excitement in his eyes. “But I like the way you think.”

Without further ado, the two of you shed your clothes, leaving them in a heap on the dock. The cool breeze sent a shiver down your spine, but it only added to the exhilaration. You took Max’s hand, and together, you slipped into the water, the initial shock of the cold quickly replaced by a delicious feeling of freedom.

Max surfaced with a gasp, shaking water from his hair and grinning at you. “This was a great idea,” he admitted, splashing you playfully. “Though, you might have to fend off all the photographers if they find out about this.”

You laughed, splashing him back. “Maybe, but that’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

The two of you floated in the water, enjoying the peacefulness of the night. But just as you were starting to relax, the soft thrum of an approaching boat reached your ears. You turned, heart racing, as a small boat with “Port Authority” painted on the side came into view, its searchlight sweeping across the water.

Max immediately positioned himself between you and the approaching boat, his expression shifting to one of focused determination. “Stay behind me,” he whispered, his tone protective yet amused. “Guess we’re about to make someone’s night interesting.”

The boat slowed to a stop a short distance away, and the spotlight fixed on you both. An officer’s voice crackled over a loudspeaker, breaking the night’s tranquility. “This is the port authority. What are you two doing out here?”

Max, ever the cool-headed racer, raised a hand in greeting, keeping his other arm around your shoulders to shield you. “Just taking a swim,” he called out casually, his voice carrying that familiar confident edge. “Didn’t realize there were rules against enjoying the water.”

The officer narrowed his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “This is a restricted area after dark. You can’t be swimming here, especially not like… that.”

Max shrugged, feigning innocence. “Hey, it’s a beautiful night. We couldn’t resist.” He glanced back at you, giving you a quick, reassuring smile. “We didn’t mean to break any rules.”

There was a moment of tense silence, and then the other officer leaned forward, squinting through the spotlight. “Wait a minute… aren’t you… Max Verstappen?”

Max sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. “Guilty as charged,” he admitted. “But listen, how about we make this a fun story instead of a headline?” He reached back to the dock, where his clothes were, and pulled out his wallet from his pants. Holding up a few large bills, he grinned at the officers. “How about we forget you ever saw us here? We’ll be gone before you know it.”

The officers exchanged looks, clearly tempted by the offer. The one with the loudspeaker finally nodded, though he couldn’t hide a smirk. “Alright, Mr. Verstappen. We’ll let you off this time, but get dressed and get out of here. We don’t want to see this in the tabloids tomorrow.”

Max gave them a playful salute. “You got it, officers. Thanks for the discretion.” As the boat began to turn away, he called out, “And hey, maybe come to a race sometime! I’ll make sure you get the best seats.”

Once the boat had disappeared into the darkness, you and Max burst out laughing, the adrenaline mixing with relief. “That was close,” you said, still grinning as you swam back toward the dock.

Max helped you out of the water, keeping his eyes on yours with a cheeky grin. “That was too close,” he agreed, wrapping a towel around you before grabbing his own clothes. “But I think we handled it pretty well. Not every day you get caught skinny dipping by the authorities and get away with it.”

You shook your head, amused and a little breathless. “You do if you’re Max Verstappen”

He chuckled, pulling you into a quick kiss. “You make life exciting, I’ll give you that,” he murmured, his voice full of affection. “But maybe next time, we pick a less risky spot. Just a suggestion.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement as you both quickly dressed. “Agreed. But it was worth it, just for the story.”

Max grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Absolutely. And hey, if we’re going to get into trouble, might as well make it memorable, right?”

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen drabble #f1 drabble #formula one fluff #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen smut

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cosmicdahlias · 9 months ago

Text

A Night on The Stan O’ War II

a stan and ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

You work at a bar in a seaside town. Two attractive older men walk in and they invite you back to their boat for a night of debauchery.

warnings: threesome, oral, huge age gap (reader is in their 20’s), slapping, usage of the word “daddy”

this is my first threesome fic. i don’t write about stan nearly as much as i do ford, but i would KILL to be eiffel towered by them. 😩 also i feel like them bickering while fucking you is incredibly in character for both of them.

You were waiting tables at the bar in the small port town you resided in. It was nothing to write home about, but it payed the bills. You were in the process of wiping down tables when two older men walked in. You could tell immediately from how alike they were that they were brothers, maybe even twins. You’d always had a thing for older men and you found both of them to be incredibly handsome. You approached their table.

“Hey there, my name’s y/n. What can I get for you two gentlemen?”

“I’ll take a whiskey, toots.” One of the men said in a gruff voice, he was very clearly eyeing you up.

“A bourbon for me, please.” The other tried to be more discreet, but he was definitely looking at you with the same lust as his brother.

As the night went on you started to find excuses to come to their table and it was obvious they didn’t mind one bit. You brought out another round of drinks, noticing when one of them went to grab his drink that he had six fingers. You shamelessly wondered what those six fingers could do, when the rougher of the two spoke.

“Hey, so uhh, we were thinkin’, we’ve seen you looking at us all night and we thought maybe you’d like to come back with one of us.”

Your heart skipped a beat, holy fuck yes. You were debating on who to choose when the perfect idea dawned on you.

“What if I want both of you?”

They exchanged glances with each other before the scholarly looking one answered.

“Only if you think you can handle it, sweetheart.”

You smirked. “Oh I’m more than capable. I get off at 12.”

The gruff one cocked a devilish smile. “Trust me, toots, it won’t be the only time you get off tonight. I’m Stan, the nerd over there is Ford, my brother.”

The brothers waited outside for you to finish your shift. You locked the door behind you.

“Okay, so where’s your guys’ place?” You asked.

“We have a boat moored nearby.” Ford answered.

You walked the short distance to the docks, arriving a decently sized boat, the name “Stan O’ War II” inscribed on the hull. They helped you onto the boat and led you down to the cabin below deck, you sat yourself on one of the beds. You were a little nervous, you’d never had a threesome before.

“So… how do we want to start thi-“

Stan interrupted you with a kiss rougher than his voice, you fell back on the bed with him on top of you, his hands immediately grabbing at your breasts.

Ford rolled his eyes. “Way to be a gentleman, Stanley.”

“Come on, you expect me to just stand there when they look like that? With that skirt and those tits? Now are you gonna watch or are you gonna get in on this?” Stan said between kisses.

“I was getting to that, move over.”

Stan sat you up and shifted to your left, his lips never leaving you. Ford traced circles on your inner thighs, you shuddered at the sensation.

“So what’s someone as pretty and young as you doing wanting to have sex with two old men?” Ford inquired.

“What can I say? I have an affinity for salt and pepper hair. I find men get better with age, more experience.” You said, momentarily breaking away from Stan to grab Ford by the sweater and pull him into a kiss.

Stan laughed. “Heh, that might be true for me, sugar, but you would NOT believe what poindexter over here has been up to for the past 30 years. And I’ll tell you there definitely wasn’t any hot young tail to go around.”

Ford gave an audible groan of annoyance and started to take off your clothes. He pulled your top over your head and unhooked your bra, sliding the straps off your arms.

He took a shuddering breath. “My stars, your breasts are gorgeous.”

“Tell me about it.” Stan said, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and biting it, his stubble tickling your breast.

Ford returned his attention to getting your clothes off of you. He pulled off your skirt and followed with your panties, sliding them down your legs, he gave a small gasp at your wetness.

“Good god sweetheart, you’re so wet. You really wanted us, didn’t you?”

Stan smirked against your breast. “Of course they do! You think they’d be able to resist the charms of us two silver foxes?”

You nodded. “When you guys walked into the bar tonight I secretly hoped you’d be into something like this.”

“We seriously didn’t think you’d reciprocate. It was a complete shot in the dark, but look at you, so eager for the both of us.” Ford said as he sank to his knees in front of you.

“Hey, you might’ve thought that, but I knew I’d have them swooning within the hour. No one can resist Stan the man.” He said, flexing his arms.

Ford rolled his eyes and lifted your legs, draping them over his shoulders. He circled your clit with his thumb for a moment before replacing it with his mouth and tongue. You tangled your fingers in his hair as Stan returned his lips to yours, tongue darting down your throat, hands caressing your breasts.

Ford lapped at your clit, taking in your taste and scent.

“God, you taste so good.” He said, moaning against you.

Stan laughed. “Damn, sixer. I didn’t know you enjoyed eating pussy this much.”

Ford scoffed. “I happen to find eliciting an orgasm from another person to be incredibly rewarding, their pleasure is mine.”

“Good god, you’re so pussy whipped.”

“I’m trying to concentrate here, Stanley.”

You felt your orgasm build, you tightened your grip on Ford’s hair.

“Good girl, that’s it, you’re almost there.” Ford cooed.

You panted, the sensation of being eaten out by Ford and felt up by Stan was overwhelming. You bucked your hips somewhat involuntarily against Ford’s tongue.

You reeled your head back cumming all over Ford’s mouth. He didn’t stop, slipping two fingers inside you and curling them at your g-spot, he wanted to make you cum again. It didn’t take long to coax it out of you, you gripped his hair so hard you almost ripped out a few strands, cumming on his face for a second time.

You fell back on the bed, you were practically floating. You panted breathlessly, attempting to steady yourself. Ford stood up, leaned over and kissed you, you could taste yourself on him. You sat up and looked at both of them, cracking a smirk.

“Both of you, strip for me.” You said in your best sultry voice.

“Of course, princess.” Ford said.

Stan grinned. “Get ready for the show, sweet cheeks.”

They began removing their clothes. Stan gave you the full stripper experience, running his hands seductively over his body. You wondered to yourself if he’d ever done this before, it sure seemed like he had.

You watched them hungrily as they revealed their figures. Stan was paunchy and soft whereas Ford was more built with a slight muscle definition, yet both of them were incredibly hot to you. You stared at them and couldn’t help but notice the multiple scars that littered Ford’s body. You had no idea what kind of hell he must’ve been through, but it had clearly been a lot.

As they pulled off their boxers you took in the absolutely glorious sight. They were both incredibly hung, over 8 inches. Their cocks were nearly identical, but Stan’s had significantly more girth. Stan caught you obviously staring.

“Like what ya see, angel?” Big, isn’t it?” He said, giving himself a few strokes.

“Bragging is unbecoming of a gentleman, Stanley.” Ford chastised.

“Hey, I know what I got, so I’m gonna flaunt it. Now, on all fours, toots.” Stan commanded, getting on the bed.

He came up behind you and angled his cock against you and unceremoniously shoved himself inside you, one hand on your shoulder, the other on your waist. He was so thick it felt like you were being ripped in half, you cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

“Oh shit, you alright?” Stan asked.

“Yeah I’m okay, it just hurts so good.”

He cocked a smile. “Damn, you like it rough don’t you?”

Ford got on his knees in front of you, tilting your chin up and stroking your lips with his thumb.

“Your lips are so soft, sweetheart.”

He slowly slid his cock in your mouth and began gingerly fucking your mouth, trying very hard to not make you choke.

“You ever done anything like this before, sugar? Gotten fucked by two men at the same time?” Stan said as he started pumping himself inside you.

You shook your head with Ford’s cock in your mouth.

“No? What do you think, huh? You like getting fucked by men old enough to be your dad?” Stan asked.

You nodded.

He grabbed your ass. “Good girl, so fucking dirty.”

Ford ran his fingers through your hair. “That’s right, you’re such a good girl, taking the both of us at the same time.”

Stan thrusted aggressively, each one forcing his brother’s cock deeper down your throat, you gagged around him.

“Easy, Stanley, you’ll make them choke.” Ford warned.

“Sorry, can’t help it, they feel too good. So- nngh- fucking tight.” Stan grunted.

You started to move your hips back against him.

“Yeah, that’s right, good girl. Fuck yourself on my cock.” Stan groaned.

He gave an incredibly hard slap to your ass, you yelped with Ford still in your mouth, a welt began to form.

“Hey, watch it! You don’t know if they like that sort of thing.” Ford scolded.

Stan rolled his eyes. “Oh come off it, sixer. They can speak for themself.”

You pulled yourself off of Ford’s cock just long enough to give a response before taking him back in your mouth.

“It’s okay, I love it.”

“See? They ‘love it’.” Stan said with a smirk.

“Consent is still important, Stanley.” Ford huffed.

Stan picked up his pace, god he loved this, using you like his own personal fucktoy.

“Jesus, that tight little pussy is gonna make me cum.” Stan groaned.

He gripped your hips and got a few good thrusts in before pulling out and cumming all over your back with a loud moan. Ford pulled himself out of your mouth, he leaned over and whispered in your ear while stroking your cheek.

“You did so well for us, sweetheart.”

Your legs shook, exhausted from being on your hands and knees for so long. You collapsed on your stomach.

Stan breathed raggedly trying to collect himself, then got off the bed and started putting his boxers back on.

“Alright, I’m gonna go out for a smoke, I’ll leave you two crazy kids alone. Have fun.” Stan said with a wink.

He started to head out, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Geez, you got me schvitzing here, toots.” He closed the cabin door behind him.

Ford turned his attention back to you. “Let me get you cleaned up.”

He got up and retrieved a towel and began wiping his brother’s cum off of your back.

“There we go.” He said softly.

He picked you up and laid you down with your head on the pillow and got on top of you. He tilted your chin up and kissed you deeply.

“I know you enjoyed being ravaged by Stanley, but now it’s my turn and I want to make love to you. Is that okay with you, princess?”

You nodded fervently.

“Good girl. I know my cock isn’t as thick as his, but still if it hurts I want you to bite down on my shoulder. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

He blushed. “Daddy? How come didn’t call Stanley that?”

“You have stronger daddy vibes.”

He chuckled. “I’m very flattered, princess.”

He slowly started to insert himself making sure to give you time to adjust while kissing you, you moaned into his mouth.

He reached the hilt of his shaft. “Does that feel good? I’m not hurting you am I?”

You shook your head. “You feel so good, daddy.”

He chuckled. “Keep calling me that and I won’t be able to last very long.”

He began moving his hips, finding a steady, gentle rhythm.

“God, now I see what Stanley was talking about, you feel incredible. So warm and tight.”

He and Stan might’ve been twins, but the ways they fucked you were as different as night and day. Where Stan was rough and fast, Ford was so much more slow and passionate.

“From the moment I saw you I knew I would have to have you. The way your thighs looked in that skirt and the way your breasts bounced as you walked, god you looked so tantalizing. When you would bend over the table to serve us our drinks it got me so hard immediately. If you hadn’t come back with us I would’ve had to spend the rest of my night stroking my cock while picturing you.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Ford, I was bending over on purpose. I knew what I was doing. Knowing I was turning on two older gentlemen was so hot. I had to steal myself away to the bathroom and touch myself because of how worked up I got with you looking at me like that. You and your brother were practically fucking me with your eyes.”

“We wanted you so bad, it was all we could talk about.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, lacing your fingers in his hair again. He buried his nose into the dip of your collarbone. You moved yourself back against him, drawing out a moan.

“I’m so close, baby girl. Can I cum in you?” He panted.

“Please, daddy.” You begged.

Your words made him throb. “Good girl.”

He slightly increased his pace, still making sure to be gentle. He came deep inside you, coating your walls in a thick layer of cum.

“Stars, you are… amazing.” He said, completely breathless.

You kissed him as he pulled out, lying next to you. You nuzzled into Ford’s chest, he stroked your back, the gentle waves of the ocean rocking the boat.

“You know, we’re going to be here for a full week. If you want, we could do this every night. How does that sound, princess?”

“Like a dream, handsome.”

He kissed you. “Good, I’m very happy to hear that.”

Silence hung in the air for a moment or two before you broke it.

“Can I ask you a question, Ford?”

“Anything, sweetheart.”

“What happened to you? You have so many scars.”

He gave a small smile. “It’s… a long story, but let’s just say I went through quite the adventure in the last 30 years.”

A few minutes later Stan walked through the door. “Got room for one more?”

You smiled. “The more the merrier.”

Stan climbed into the bed, spooning you.

He chuckled to himself. “See, sixer? I told you we’d find babes.”

#stan pines #ford pines #stan pines x reader #ford pines x reader #stan pines fanfic #ford pines fanfic #stan pines smut #ford pines smut #gravity falls #my fics

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hyuuukais · 1 month ago

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⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS

pairing ▪︎ han jisung x fem reader

synopsis ▪︎ sent out on a mission to a neighbouring QZ that's gone radio silent, y/n falls into the hands of a post-rebellion group after things go terribly wrong. giving up on rejoining her squad, she joins the group on a trek to find a missing member, the group leader's sister. what's supposed to be a not-so-simple trip out and back to their base becomes a one-way ticket to the end of everything they know.

warnings ▪︎ general - fighting, blood, injuries, sickness

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

CHAPTER TEN ▪︎ OTHERS AMONG US (7.8k)

Like Felix predicted, it takes about an hour for you to arrive at the port. It's not much to look at, really. There's a large building–maybe an old theatre–with the middle collapsed into the water, allowing access inside and out by boat. From where you're hidden across the water, you can see a few people walking around with various weapons, mostly bows– silent killers, smart. The inside is hard to see from this angle, but you do see a boat or two come in and out while observing.

Han is the first to go, treading the water carefully and using the foliage to his advantage. There's a moment you swear he'll get caught, your own breath held as he sinks under the water when a boat gets dangerously close to his hiding spot. Your grip on the edge of the wall you're watching over tightens, and you wouldn't be surprised to look down and see how light your knuckles have become from doing so. As soon as Han makes it over, he signals from the spot you all agreed to begin at- the decrepit looking dock that seems to be unused, right where it connects to the building. Nobody appeared to be keeping guard there, nor had any boats passed along the edge.

You're the next to go, knowing that if anything happens on the swim over, both Felix and Han should be able to get to you before anyone notices your struggle. The plants in the water allow you to take small breaks, your limbs still heavy with constant exhaustion. You're about to emerge from the tangle of weeds, but the roar of an engine stops you in your tracks. The issue- that sound is coming right towards you, a boat in line directly with your hiding place. At the very last second you take the deepest breath you've ever taken, then plunge under the surface.

Water fills your nostrils, having forgotten to plug them in time. It takes everything in you not to exhale, to hold in the burning air. Darkness engulfs you as the hull passes through the weeds, and you swear for a moment that you can see something red flashing in the water a couple feet away. You try taking a closer look, but then light re-penetrates the surface and it's gone in an instant. Finally, you can swim back up and take a deep breath before finishing your way to Han. He grabs onto your arm, helping you behind a small concrete half wall.

Felix is quick to join last. Looking around the edge of a broken wall, you can see the theatre is bigger than it seemed from a distance, clearly having been expanded by the looks of it. Wooden platforms are built onto the old walls, with plenty of small docks all around the centre. Above, there's a matching wooden floor, ladders spread around the edge to get up there. As curious as you are to see just how these people live, you know that isn't the goal here.

Across the water is the only boat currently docked, three people standing right by it. One woman has short, dark hair, and seems to be arguing with the other two about something. With the angle they're standing at, it's hard to catch a glimpse of the others' faces. Gears start turning as you examine the rest of the theatre, memorizing as much of the layout as you can see; where certain ladders seem to lead, which sections connect where. It's simple, really, the way to get to the boat. The wooden half walls surrounding the opening where the boats are docked allow for a lot of cover, and you can easily make your way up and around with the ladders, landing exactly where you need to be.

"I know what to do," you say, turning around to face the others. "Let me get the boat, I see a good route. Felix, I want you to go back to where we came from and do that really high-pitched whistle, okay? Distract. Han-" You lock eyes with him. "-be ready with your slingshot in case something happens. I'm going to come swinging around this side, so you'll have to be ready to jump in the boat. Same goes for you, Lix.”

"This sounds dangerous," Han states, but doesn't argue.

"Isn't everything?" You cock an eyebrow, and you swear you can see the hint of a smile on his face.

Once everyone is in position, you begin making your way inside. Every step has you holding your breath, feeling the wood creak slightly underfoot as you make your way to the closest ladder. With a height advantage, you'll be able to plan the best escape route between the few exits available through the broken walls.

You slide a hand against the wooden half wall at the edge of the water as you walk, crouched down low and out of sight. There's a strange lack of people around, but you assume it has something to do with the conflict between groups. It reminds you of stories you'd hear back in the QZ about soldiers going out and claiming more small towns from survivors to expand military control. Back then, you assumed the survivors would be integrated into the zones, but you think better of it now.

Ascending the ladder, you can't help slightly marveling at the handiwork done to this place. The work is seriously impressive, and you wonder just how long it's taken to get to this point. Before lifting yourself onto the second floor, you glance around to ensure there's nobody there. Once you confirm the coast is clear, you take the last few steps, keeping low to the ground as you make your way around. Up here, there are walls dividing different rooms and you want to peek into every single one. In the very last one, you spot a wall covered in notes. Curiosity gets the best of you, and you walk inside.

Each note contains different information- things on the opposing group (which you know have learned are called M.O.A), sightings of others in the area unrelated to them (you assume that's your group), code words and names you can't even begin to understand (who thinks of these?). In the centre of the room is a small table, a couple of bottles left on it like there were people just casually having a drink not too long ago. One still has liquid in it and another is knocked over, the beverage soaking through more paper on the table. You examine the papers, seeing a hand drawn map coupled with one similar to the one you found previously. Like that one, the dome is circled in red. Something about this place must be important-

Click.

Turning slowly with your hands raised, you're faced with the woman you saw by the boat earlier. Her short hair is pulled back into tight braids now, and she's dressed differently- an oversized hood obscuring part of her face. Her gun is pointed directly at your chest, a red dot marked above your rapidly beating heart.

"Who are you?" She asks, tilting her head. Her voice is softer than you imagined it to be.

"Nobody," you say. "Let me go, and we won't have any trouble."

"If I don't let you go, there won't be trouble because you'll be dead." She states, as if it means nothing whether you live or die. "Or did you not see my gun?"

"Oh, I see it," you mutter. "I prefer knives, or really anything I can throw."

Before she can blink, you're tossing one of the discarded bottles straight at her head. She dodges at the last second, but not before you throw the other to where you predicted, hitting her directly in the face. While she's distracted, you run past her, making sure to push her down as you go for good measure. Making a leap for the edge of the half wall, you're grabbing onto it as something- no, someone- grabs onto your ankle, knocking you down. Your forehead smacks the wall as you fall.

"You think I'd let you get away that easily?" The woman is climbing over you, pinning you to the ground with her gun pointed at your head.

Grunting, you try and fail to squirm away before she has you fully pinned. She's pressing her gun to your temple, the cool metal almost nice against your burning hot skin. You can see her better now, the hood that was obscuring her face now pulled back in the scuffle. If not for the position you were currently in, you might have been stunned by her beauty. Her dark eyes pierce into yours, eyebrows furrowed with concentration. There's already a soft, red bruise beginning where you hit her before. Before she can pull the trigger, there's a noise that distracts her, Felix, and suddenly she's screaming. At first, you're confused, but then she drops her gun to hold over her eye, blood dripping through her fingers. You turn your head just in time to see Han-

"Jisung! Duck!" You shout, crawling out from under her trembling body as somebody appears behind Han with a large spear, aimed right at his head.

You grab the gun, using the red dot to shoot directly at their head. They drop, and you don't waste a second to toss the gun down to Han. As soon as your fingers let go of the weapon, you're being yanked back by an arm around your neck. The bruises from Ryujin haven't healed completely, making the pain ten times worse as the woman chokes you. Kicking upward, you manage to dislodge yourself from her grip and do the only thing you can think of.

You jump. Right into the water beside the boat.

For what feels like the hundredth time today, water engulfs you, but you don't allow yourself to panic. Although it stings, you keep your eyes open to find your way back to the surface. Bullets are penetrating the water around you, one almost hitting you in the shoulder, but the murky water helps hide you.

Climbing onto the dock, you're just about to get into the closest boat when an arrow shoots into your shoulder. You let out a small noise, looking down to see the arrowhead sticking out. Despite the pain, you force yourself to continue on; you can't fail your people. The motor stutters, and you curse under your breath as another arrow shoots the wooden dock next to you. Ducking your head, you struggle to get the motor going, but then it does, and you're flying out of there in seconds.

"Hop on!" You shout before reaching where Han is still shooting rocks as defence. His head turns at the sound of your voice and he grins widely as you rush by, jumping at the last second. He tumbles into the boat behind you, causing it to rock heavily.

Han takes over driving the boat for you as you fall against the side of the boat clutching your shoulder. The wound is throbbing, blood steadily leaking, but you try not to focus on it as you get closer to Felix's location. You spot him quickly as he bounds across the small, apocalypse-made island, ready to get in the boat as soon as possible. Reaching out a hand, you help him in as Han slows down just enough for Felix to step inside.

"That was intense." Felix breathes heavily. "Did the distraction even work?"

"Kind of," You groan, wincing as you bring your hand away from his. "It saved me from being shot in the head, so."

"Oh, good." Felix nods, sounding genuinely relieved.

Han is speeding away from the theatre as people continue shooting at your boat, taking a large circle around the makeshift shelter and aiming for a small river breaking off from the area. Arrows are flying around you in the water, and you're almost impressed by the amount of ammo they appear to have. As you're reaching the exit, there's a rumble and the sound of splashing water from somewhere close behind you. Risking a glance, you see water flying up, and something connects in your brain.

"There are explosives in the water," you say, voice becoming higher. "Han, go faster!"

"I'm going as fast as I can." Han steers as another goes off, too close for comfort.

Another explosion rocks your boat, and the exit is seeming further and further with every second. Felix takes the gun from Han, ready to defend as you need. He keeps low, but another rock of the boat has the gun slipping from his hands and into the water.

"Shit!" Felix tries to grab it, but it's too late. "Damn it-"

Suddenly, Felix's body lurches back, and your eyes widen when they land on him. He's grasping at his face, an arrow pierced through his cheeks. Not a wound to kill, but you know it's gotta hurt with the way blood is pouring out. You're by his side in an instant, ready to break the ends of the arrow and use whatever you can to pack the wound, but you find yourself flying through the air instead.

It's like everything is in slow motion- you, flying forward toward the river you were so close to exiting through, the ringing in your ears, the sounds of shouting and more boat motors coming out of nowhere. When you finally hit the water again, time returns to normal. Plunging under the water, you only stop when your leg gets tangled in some vines. Slipping a knife from your waist, you cut them away and use the brief momentum to propel yourself toward where you can only assume a shore lies.

Pulling yourself out of the water, you cough and cough and cough, until you're collapsing onto the ground. There's no more shouting, no more boats, only the slight ringing that remains in your ears and the sound of water rushing past. You're on dirt- maybe some woods in the middle of the city, and you once again have no idea where you are.

"Y/n?" Your head snaps up to see Han stumbling through the trees from your left.

"Jisung!" You've never felt happier to see him, struggling to stand and run toward him.

For the first time, you embrace him tightly. His arms hover around your body for a moment before returning the hug just as intensely. Breathing you in, he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, muttering against your skin.

"I didn't see where Felix went," he mumbles. "I saw you in the air and tried to swim after you, but when you went under... I don't know."

"We have to find Felix." You pull away enough to look at his face, keeping your hands resting on his shoulders. "It's not safe out here and he's injured."

"Injured?" Hans eyebrows furrow. "From the concussion? ‘Cause he told me he was okay from that."

"No, I guess you didn't see... one of those people shot him." You shake your head. "If we see more of them, it's on sight."

"In your bloodthirsty era?" Hans lips quirk up slightly.

Ignoring his comment, you push off of him with a small sound of pain- you somehow managed to forget about the arrow in your shoulder, adrenaline taking over during the struggle down the river. You grab the tip of the arrow, ready to break it, but Han steps close to you again.

"Let me help." You're too physically exhausted to protest, leaning against a nearby tree as he snaps the wooden arrow.

You wince, the movement making your eyes water. It hurts like hell as he pushes the rest out, discarding it on the ground. Fresh blood pours out of your wound, and Jisung is quick to wrap the wound with some fabric he's pulled from his back pocket; the same fabric from the sheet Felix wrapped his head with. You bite your lip to prevent more noise coming out of your mouth as he tightens the thin fabric around your shoulder, tying a knot to keep it in place.

"Not nearly as good as Lix or Jeongin... but it'll do," you say, glancing down at his handiwork.

"Shut up," Han laughs, making a move to push you lightly, but thinking better of it given your current condition. "We should rest. We're losing light, and I don't want those people to find us stranded in the dark woods."

He has a point, you know he does, but resting while Felix is now missing and you're nowhere closer to getting back to the others feels wrong. It's like Han can sense what you're feeling, taking your hand in his with a light squeeze.

"We can't help them if we collapse from exhaustion," he says carefully.

You sigh, frustrated. "Fine. Let's try to find somewhere not riddled with infected for once."

Only a few hours later, you find yourself in a different part of the city that isn't so flooded. The streets have puddles here and there, but nothing compared to the other side; you must be heading more inland. You're able to just barely climb up a fire escape, picking the lock to enter the upstairs level of a store. Instead of being met with a storefront though, it's an apartment, and you're only mildly confused, yet very okay with this setting instead. Much more comfortable than what you were expecting.

Han drags a heavy table in front of the door, letting you sit down and catch your breath. Somehow, you managed to pick the one place with no zombies to fight, and you're extremely grateful. Outside, you watch as the wind picks up again, and the rain begins to come down heavily.

"It's kinda nice." Han leans against the window. "The rain, when you're not stuck in it."

You hum in agreement. It is nice, he's right; the sound of the rain pelting against the glass windows, noise to drown out the mess of thoughts going through your head. Looking up, your heart aches slightly when the cloudy skies come into view. Your fingers find the charm under your shirt, still there despite it all. Maybe it's time to sleep.

After some restless tossing and turning, you sit up on the couch. The rain is still going, thunder sending a rumbling through your chest. Han insisted on taking the couch, so you're left alone in the bedroom, wishing you were somewhere else instead, anywhere else. The cold, lonely atmosphere has your chest tight, your skin littered with goosebumps, your mind haunted by ghosts of the past. You think of Chaeryeong. You think of Felix. You think of yourself, back in the QZ.

"Can't sleep?" Han's voice startles you, and you look up to see him in the doorway; you shake your head.

Slowly, he walks into the room and you find him kneeling in front of you. It's hard to look at him like this, his expression sympathizing with you, feeling guilty that he's stuck in this mess with you. With gentle hands- how are they so soft?- he's cupping your cheeks and rubbing his thumbs over your skin. The action is simple, and yet, you find yourself relaxing into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut. You sigh, allowing your body to calm down.

"We're going to find Felix, okay?" Han says softly. "And we'll get back to the others fine. They'll be okay."

You sigh again, bringing your own rough hands over his and bringing them down from your face. Staring into his eyes, it's like looking into little galaxies; somehow there's still a sparkle, no matter how shitty the situation seems.

"Can you sleep in here tonight?" You ask, thinking back to when you were captured together. His body next to yours, warm and comforting... it helped. More than you'd like you admit.

Han nods, sensing this isn't the time to tease you. You climb back into the dusty bed together, his body lying next to you with a small gap between you. After a few minutes, you can't take it anymore and move closer, enough to intertwine your hands. You close your eyes with a sigh as he accepts your hand, not seeing the way he looks over to you.

The profile of your face is highlighted by the moonlight now shining through the thin curtains, rain having stopped for now. He exhales, admiring how you look right now; if only you could look so at peace all of the time.

The dome turns out to be a bigger community than Minho would have ever imagined, nearly the population of a QZ. His eyes widen slightly, blinking rapidly as they enter the building, mind still reeling from watching you fall from the bridge.

It took everything to not jump in after you, but after seeing Jisung and Felix fall with you, something told him you'd be better off without him coming too. Minho made a plan that instant- make sure Chan finds his sister, then set out to find you. As much as he wants to leave sooner than later, he also wanted to make sure this wasn't a trick, not after hearing from Chan how you were kidnapped. No one should have to go through something like that, not when the world around you is already so terrible. Although he doesn't know the others well, he can't leave them to a fate like that unknowingly.

Now, he's looking up through the broken roof, rain pouring into the centre of the building- what seems to be an old arena. There are several large buckets on the grass collecting the water, rows of various fruits and vegetables lining the sides. It's amazing, seeing how these people are living.

Lily guides everyone through rows of old seats, exiting through a curtain divider between them, and entering a large hallway. Minho pauses by the window, looking down to where you fell. Water rushes by angrily, the wind having picked up more since coming inside. His jaw clenches, the grip he has on the windowsill tightening. Someone puts a hand on his shoulder.

"C'mon." Changbin leads him away from the window.

Minho trudges behind the others, mind still whirling with ideas of how to slip away, where to go, how far you've traveled. Finally, Lily stops in front of a door labeled 'employees only', and Minho almost walks into Hyunjin's back. Hyunjin glances back, eyes briefly glancing down, then back up to Minho's face.

"She's in here," Lily says quietly, opening the door slowly. "Fair warning, she's not doing well. You might not want to see her until she's had a few doses of the anitbioti-"

"I'm seeing my sister," Chan grits out, cutting Lily off.

Lily stares at Chan for a moment longer, then nods. He follows Lily into the room, the others trailing slightly behind. Minho is right by Chan, ready for whatever it is that is such a big deal that Lily had to warn them. Then, he sees her, and his steps falter.

"Hannah?" Chan chokes her name out, forearm going to cover his mouth, eyes scrunching up.

She's lying on a couch in what appears to be the employee lounge, a blanket brought up to her chin, but not hiding what's evident on her face. Black veins run from around her eyes and mouth, lips chapped and skin dry. Her breath is coming out in wheezes, body occasionally twitching.

"She's infected," Minho states, unable to tear his eyes away from the unconscious girl. Chan is beside him, regaining control over his breathing, and it's clear his confusion is turning to anger as his eyebrows furrow and he looks at Lily.

"We came all this way, lost some of our people, and you couldn't even bother to tell us she's infected?" Chan points to Hannah, keeping his voice low, a hint of venom in his words.

Lily doesn't flinch away, doesn't back down as Chan approaches her. "You need to let me explain-"

"There's nothing to explain!" Chan bites his lip to keep from fully shouting. "How long? How long ago was she bitten?"

"A week ago," Lily whispers, and the room falls silent.

A week...? Minho shakes his head, eyes falling back to Hannah. Impossible. She should be fully turned by now, but here she is, just... sick. Really, really, sick. This shouldn't be possible.

Chan walks over to the couch, kneeling down beside Hannah. He brushes her hair out of her face, keeping one hand on her shoulder as Lily comes beside him to administer the antibiotics. What they're going to do- who knows? Nothing, most likely. Regular antibiotics can't cure this kind of virus.

"These should help with the fever," Lily says, like she can read everyone's thoughts right now. "Obviously they won't cure her completely, but they'll help with her body adjusting to... to whatever is going on inside of her. I've never seen anything like this."

"None of us have," Jeongin says quietly from the back of the group. Minho glances over his shoulder, seeing Jeongin standing straight with his eyes forward. He would have made a good soldier if he didn't leave the zone.

After a few moments of silence among the group, people start filtering out of the room, Minho being one of the last to leave. He stares at Chan and Hannah a little longer, wondering what's supposed to happen from here on out. They've found Hannah, but will she survive the journey back to wherever these people live? Can she even leave this place? How long will they be stuck here?

The last question is almost completely irrelevant to Minho anyway as he slips through the doorway, still planning his silent escape. Running a hand against the rough wall, Minho walks slowly through the corridors, keeping an eye out for the others. It's better to try and avoid them now that he's been separated; maybe he'll leave a note with someone, or maybe he'll just go now. Rain continues to pour outside, fogging the windows. Minho leans his palms against the windowsill, hanging his head and taking a second to breathe.

You're out there, somewhere, and he's wasting time standing here. Yes, you have Felix and Han with you, but maybe you got separated, maybe one of them didn't make it, maybe you didn't-

"Stop it," Minho whispers, fingers finding the charm lying underneath his shirt. "She made it."

The sun is out, shining through the thin, worn fabric draped over the window and over your bodies, still entangled with one another. Han's chest makes your head rise and fall with each breath he takes, and you can't help but wonder if this is the first time you've woken up feeling like you actually slept. Opening your eyes, you see he's already awake, one hand over yours on his stomach, his other in your hair.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Han smiles down at you, his shoulders propped up slightly by the flat pillow underneath him. "How'd you sleep?"

"Like a rock." You try sitting up, but he wraps one arm around you, keeping you in place. "Jisung, let me up."

With his arm still wrapped around you, he sits up more, causing you to shift with him. You're laughing lightly until he tries to roll the two of you over, your wounded shoulder pressing into the mattress. The pressure causes you to let out an involuntary sound of pain, and Han is hovering over you in seconds, hands gently lifting your upper body.

"Shit, are you okay?" Han cradles you in his lap, taking the pressure completely off of you now.

"I'm fine," You almost stutter, pushing away from him gently.

He lets you go, sitting there watching as you slip off the bed and rub your face. You weren't lying- you've never slept so hard in your life, at least, not since leaving the QZ, and you've got the grogginess to prove it as you pull your boots on. There's no point in sticking around this place any longer than needed, so you grab your pack without another word, expecting Jisung to be by your side as you open the door to the fire exit. When you turn around to say something, he isn't there. With furrowed eyebrows, you walk back to the bedroom to see him squinting at something through the window.

"What is it?" You ask, getting close to his side, trying to follow his eyes.

"Look, there-" He points to what looks like a dark cloud. "-smoke. We should head toward it."

"Are you dumb, or stupid?" You step away, laughing in disbelief. "Yes, we should walk toward danger. Such a great idea."

Han scoffs, shaking his head as he turns to grab his own pack. "Smoke means people, people mean possibly finding our way to Felix. Finding our way to Felix means finding our way back to the others."

With a roll of your eyes, you mumble a quiet agreement and walk behind Han as he leads you out.

The day drags on as you stumble through broken roads and fallen tree trunks, the smoke clearing more with each step. If you don't get there soon, you may never find the source, so you don't make much time for rest. Finally, you've made it to the edge of a clearing, back in the woods you came through before. A somewhat large bonfire is lit in the middle, a few tents set up in a circle around it, not too close, not too far. You recognize one head of hair from earlier, a flash of orange disappearing through the hanging cloth. Getting closer, you can begin to make out some of the faces- no sign of Felix.

There's a hand on your arm and you flinch, head whipping around to see Han with a finger to his lips. He nods his head forward in the direction you were about to go, and you see a cloaked figure holding a wooden bowl walking that same way. If Han hadn't stopped you, you would've been caught. It's humbling sometimes, having him around and knowing all the things he's stopped you from walking into.

With a hand on your lower back, he guides you the opposite way, back around some of the tents to the left. It's dangerous, the thin material doing little to hide your silhouettes as you run crouched behind them, but it's all you can do. You're almost certain the orange haired guy knows something that could help you find Felix, and you're willing to confront him now and deal with the consequences later, even if it means fighting your way out of the clearing. Looking around, you spot the man coming out of the tent- your new target. There must be something in there that's important with the expression he's walked out with, the hushed words to the other man standing guard- wait, standing guard-?

You look around. No other tent has protection other than maybe a spare weapon lying around. So, what makes this tent so special? You intend to find out. Without a second thought, you make a beeline for the entrance of the tents and once again find yourself jolting backward instead.

"Y/n!" Han whispers, tone harsher than he meant for it to be. You look at him over your shoulder. "We can't just- we can't just run in there! If we're caught, we'll be outnumbered. Go around and take that guy out from the back, I'll be your eyes out this way, okay? Then, I'll join you."

Nodding, you begin sneaking around the circle again once Han has let go of your arm, checking to make sure you didn't accidentally pass it every few tents. Once you make it to the right one, you pause and take a deep breath. Han is nowhere to be seen on the other side, which you know is good, but not knowing where he is makes your lungs seize up briefly.

The guard is sitting on a small stool- no, a small stump, whittling away at a piece of wood in his hands taking on some kind of animal, maybe a rabbit.

Now is not the time to get distracted, you remind yourself, taking light steps forward. The guard stays unaware the whole time you're sneaking up and you think the plan is going perfectly until he stands up and turns around, eyes widening slightly when they find yours. He blinks, you freeze, then your senses kick in, and you lunge forward. Bringing his body back between the tents, you're quick to flip him in your arms and wrap your forearm around his front, your other hand over his mouth. Tightening your grip, you keep your forearm pressed against his neck just long enough to pass out, considering for only a moment not letting go before his body drops at your feet.

Time is precious, and you waste none of it circling the front of the tent and entering before anyone can see you or notice the missing person. You enter with your dagger drawn, the hilt glinting in the lamplight, but your hand quickly falls when you see what's inside.

"Lix!" You whisper, dropping down next to the body on the ground.

Felix is laid down on a thin bedroll, an equally thin pillow under his head. Thankfully, you see his chest rising and falling with each breath, grateful he's alive. The wounds in his cheeks are patched up as well, only confusing you a little bit. Did he manage to do that before they found him- or did they do this? The fabric around his head is changed to some sort of gauze as well, answering your question.

The tent opening behind you has you back on your feet, breath releasing when you see it's just Han. His eyes land on you, then Felix, then back to you, seemingly checking you over.

"We need to get out of here," You whisper, kneeling back down to Felix. Pressing a hand against his cheek, you can feel how warm his skin is. "Something isn't right..."

"Ah-" The voice from behind you has you freezing again, then slowly turning your head to see Jisung standing between you and the orange haired man, slingshot drawn. "Could you put that down? I need to check on him."

The man is unfazed by your presence as he moves past Jisung, a wet towel in his hand. He drops beside you, paying you no mind as he begins lifting the patches off Felix's cheeks, gently dabbing the angry, red wounds with the damp fabric. Next, he brings out a small pouch from the inside of his-

"Why are you wearing a cloak?" You blurt, shuffling slightly away from him.

"Why aren't you?" He says, and you have to resist the urge to roll your eyes as he looks up at you. "Tell your friend to lower his weapon. Please."

"Only 'cause you asked so nicely," You sigh, standing and placing a hand on Jisung's arm, lowering your voice. "Chill for a second. We need to see what he knows."

Slowly, Jisung puts the slingshot away. "I'm trusting your guy, Y/n.”

You watch as he opens the pouch, dipping his fingers inside to collect some kind of paste that he slathers over Felix's cheeks. With a small wince, Felix opens his eyes, blinking rapidly as he takes in the scene. He sits up too quickly, hand clutching his head.

"Lix," You gasp, grabbing onto his shoulders to help keep him upright. "You're okay. These people-" You glance to the man next to you. "-they're helping us, helping you."

"Believe it or not," the man starts. "We aren't here to hurt you. Here, we don't attack unless provoked. My name is Yeonjun, I'm sort of like a leader here, we have a few just in case."

Just in case. He doesn't need to say more for you to know what he implies, especially with that other group of people who seem to have different intentions when it comes to strangers.

Yeonjun continues to bandage Felix, then stands and puts the pouch away. "If you'd like, feel free to join us for a meal."

You shoot Han a sideways glance, but the look on his face is very telling. Neither of you, nor Felix, have had a proper meal in a while, and your stomach growls quietly at the thought. Without further discussion, Yeonjun leads the three of you out of the tent. Some people stare at you as you pass them, clearly wondering both where you came from and what you're doing here.

"Hey!" From your left, someone shouts, anger clear in their voice. "You! You people!"

Yeonjun has a frown on his face when he turns around to see who is here to interrupt. His eyes lift to the sky and he breathes deeply as a brown-haired man marches up beside him. The man glares at you, then turns his body to whisper into Yeonjun's ear, his shaggy hair covering most of his face.

"Listen, you would have done the same," Yeonjun says, a little louder than the other man. That's when you notice the purple bruises forming on the other's neck, and you realize he was the one standing guard of Felix's tent.

"I'm sorry," You blurt, stepping forward. "Um, really. I thought you guys planned to hurt my friend. We aren't exactly used to people showing kindness."

The man looks over his shoulder to look at you, eyes trailing you up and down, studying you. You can tell he's assessing you- the way you're leaning more on your one side due to your injury, the dirt and scratches littering your body, the various knives strapped to your limbs and torso.

"I get it." His tone is a bit reluctant, but he turns to face you fully now. "I refuse to say Yeonjun is right in his presence, but yeah, maybe I would have assumed and done something similar in your position."

Some time passes and you learn his name is Beomgyu, one of the other 'sort of leaders' as Yeonjun put it. Gathered by the fire pit, you, Han, and Felix all scarf down the food you're given. After a few hasty bites, the plate of meat and vegetable makes your stomach churn slightly, reminded of what they served you back at the diner. Glancing over to Han, you sense he's thinking the same as he takes another bite, rolling the food around his mouth slowly before swallowing. You shuffle closer to him.

"At least we know what this stuff is, huh?" You try to joke lightly. Han flashes you a smile.

"True. If we didn't see that cow during the little tour Yeonjun gave us, I don't think I could eat this." Han makes a small face, looking back down at the plate.

The day turns into evening, and you know you need to get heading back to the dome. It only now occurs to you that these are the same people who have plans to scope out the dome, but now that you've interacted with them, maybe you can get them to call those plans off. Standing, you spot the man who was pointed out as their main leader, only here briefly before he has to go elsewhere.

"Soobin, could I speak to you?" You jog up to him after discarding your plate.

"Of course. Y/n, right?" Soobin offers a small smile, gesturing to walk with him; you do, falling into step easily. "Yeonjun mentioned you, Beomgyu too."

“I'm sure Beomgyu had lots to say," You laugh, shaking your head, but your smile falters, as do your steps. Soobin stops next to you, now a metres from the campsite. "I saw a map before we were attacked by Naevis."

Soobin's eyes widen slightly, but the rest of his expression gives nothing away. "A map?"

"Yeah, one of yours. There were a few places outlined as patrol routes and such." You shift on your feet, glancing around you before speaking again. "There was a dome on there, closer to the water. I need you to know there are people in there. I don't know how many, but there are people I care about who should be there now. It was marked to be scoped out."

"You want me to call it off," Soobin finishes for you. You nod. "It would be a valuable asset."

There's a tightening in your throat. He's going to say no.

“Maybe I can send a group out to see about trade negotiations instead," Soobin ponders, and you feel your breath returning to normal. "I'm sure they need that place more than we do. Is that where you and your friends need to return to?"

"Yes," You say a little too quickly. "Yeah, um, we need to get back as soon as possible. Do you know-"

A shout draws both of your attention, head snapping toward the sound. Before your eyes can find the target, an arrow whips past you, a sting lingering on your cheek from where it grazes you. Soobin pushes you toward the ground, a hand hovering above your back as he guides you toward the closest tent.

"Naevis?" You ask, voice higher than you want it to be.

"Yes," Soobin answers, voice low and rough. "Damn it."

Without another though, he dives forward to grab a bow leaning against a table, then pushes the table over to act as cover. You join him quickly, the sounds of fighting rising around you. Soobin pulls you close to him gently, the act causing heat to rush to your cheeks.

"Listen to me clearly," He talks quick, voice hushed. "Not too far from here is another collapsed, flooded road. Head that way-" He points to the direction across the camp. "-and you'll find a dock. There should be a boat, take it, return to your people. The river should take you the right way."

"Thank you," You breathe out, giving Soobin one final nod. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know," Soobin knocks an arrow into his bow. "Now go."

You dash across the campsite, what's close to a bloodbath happening around you.

Han is to your left helping someone injured, ripping bandages with his teeth and wrapping them quickly around their bleeding leg. Something about the action has your heart skipping, but you don't stop to question it. You need to get out of here and fast.

"Jisung!" You shout once you're close enough to him. He's just finishing tying the bandage. "Come on."

Grabbing his arm, he lets you lead him away from the fight, dragging Felix along when you pass by him too. The three of you flee, a small sense of guilt in the back of your head as the sounds fade away and are replaced by the rushing of water. You're breathing heavily by the time you reach the dock, untying the rope with some difficulty, the pain in your shoulder returning around your unhealed wound.

“Let me.” Han gently pushes you aside.

After the boat is untied, Han helps you and Felix into the boat while still holding the rope. Felix starts the motor as Han climbs in, but shouting behind him catches your attention. Looking up, you can see some members of Naevis running out of the woods you just came from, bows raised and arrows flying. One strikes you in the side, and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood just to keep you from crying out.

Han has his slingshot out in seconds, sending the sharp rocks and debris he’s picked up the way. The distance makes it difficult for his shots to land, but it’s enough to hold them off from getting too close as you get away.

“Always getting shot by arrows,” Han mutters, turning his attention to you as soon as it’s safe to. “Stop that.”

“I didn’t mean to.”

Your lips twitch up, but quickly twist to a grimace as Han breaks the arrow without warning. A hiss leaves your lips, and he says nothing as he helps you lie down in the boat, head resting against the seat. There’s a strange look on his face you can’t quite place.

“How far down the river is the dome?” Felix asks, keeping his eyes on the water.

“Kind of far,” You grit out, wincing as the boat moves. “But we should make it there fairly quickly given how- ah, how fast the current is. Is it normal to be seeing black dots everywhere?”

“You’re what?” Han sounds slightly panicked, eyes snapping to yours. “Don’t joke like that.”

“I’m not joking.”

With that, the world goes dark.

Minho feels like he’s been walking for ages.

The sky is clear now after the constant storming over the last couple nights, and he’s finally been able to slip away from the others to find you. Knowing he can’t just dive into the ravine you fell into, he wanders to the other side of the dome where a calmer river level to the broken concrete flows. By the time the sun is setting, he’s losing all hope of finding you. When the stars come out, he looks up with a small sigh, fingers finding the small charm hiding underneath the collar of his shirt.

That’s when he sees it. A boat coming his way, three passengers looking weary as they let the current guide them. Minho keeps to the underbrush until one of the faces becomes clear, tired eyes scanning over the forest lining the river.

“Felix?” Minho stands fully, jogging to the shoreline. “Hey!”

Felix squints and someone else he’s with looks up too- Han. In a few minutes, they’ve steered to the edge where Minho is waiting, one hand subconsciously on the hilt of the knife sitting on his hip. When he sees you lying on the floor of the boat, his stoic expression breaks. Blood seeps through bandages wrapped around your midsection, remnants of a broken arrow rolling around by your feet. There’s no time to think with the rate you’re bleeding out.

“I’ll take her. The dome-” Minho swallows, pointing down the river. “-it’s just a bit further. I can run.”

Han looks reluctant to let you go, but the urgency in Minho's voice scares him. Moments later, you’re in Minho’s arms and headed back to the dome. Sweat pours down his back as he races alongside the current, your blood soaking into his own shirt.

“Almost there,” Minho whispers, glancing down at you once the dome is in sight. You’re pale, too pale, and his heart drops. “Don’t you dare die on me. What is it you say to Seungmin? See you later?”

Minho barely slows to open the door. As he steps inside, all eyes are on him, but his are only on you.

“See you soon, okay?” Minho ignores the stares, rushing down the steps to where he knows Lily should be. “I promised I wouldn’t let you die.”

■

notes ▪︎ i am SO so so sorry it took so long for this to come out. i'll try to do better! tysm to those still reading

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#⋆₊‧⁺˖⋆˚.⋆ ͙͘͡★ LOOK UP TO THE STARS #skz #stray kids #han jisung x reader #han jisung x fem reader #han jisung #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #zombie au #zombie apocalypse au #skz zombie au #han jisung fanfic #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #skz series #han jisung series

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chrissssssmut · 3 months ago

Note

Yandere Mermaid Princess Jisso x male reader human.

THE SEA'S CLAIM

Yandere Mermaid Jisoo x Male Reader

AN: Quick story i wrote for this week! Been super busy recently! Hope y'all can wait!😭♥️

The crew of the Osprey was tired. Tired from the long days at sea, tired from the never-ending stretch of horizon, and tired of being so close to the edge of the world. As you sailed into the Crimson Strait, whispers of the ancient tales started floating through the crew. You could feel the weight of those whispers, heavy like the fog that clung to the sails.

“Mermaid territory,” Jackson said quietly, looking out at the haze. “It’s nothing but death and song here. That’s what they say.”

Ren, who had been sharpening his knife, scoffed. “Mermaids? Curses and singing? It’s sailor nonsense. Don’t tell me you believe that old fairy tale.”

“I didn’t say I believe it. Just don’t go swimming if you’re looking for an early grave,” Jackson replied, his voice tense. He glanced over at you, and for a moment, you wondered if he had a point.

You kept your thoughts to yourself, but you couldn’t shake the memory. Three nights ago, in a tavern called The Drowned Bell at the edge of a nearby port town, you’d heard a woman’s voice. It was velvet, smooth, like the gentle crash of waves on a calm night. The crowd was drunk and oblivious, but you were drawn in. You found her in the back of the tavern—sitting there, eyes shining dark in the dim light. Her smile was alluring, but her gaze… almost unnerving.

She had caught your eye instantly. You had asked her name.

“Jisoo,” she said, her voice dipping low, eyes like the ocean itself. “You’ll remember me when the water closes over your head.”

You had laughed it off at the time, thinking it was just some strange woman trying to flirt with a sailor. But deep down, you couldn’t shake the feeling. You couldn’t forget her. Not her name. Not the way she looked at you.

Now, staring at the fog, you wondered if you should’ve listened to the old stories. Were they real? Was she real?

The crew spent the day navigating through the fog, their voices drifting on the air as they made repairs and checked supplies. You couldn’t help but keep looking over the edge of the ship, your mind lingering on the memories of the tavern, the strange woman, the words she had whispered.

The sea felt wrong today. It was too still, too silent.

Suddenly, the ship jolted. A massive impact shook the hull. Screams erupted from the crew.

“Enemy ship!” someone shouted.

You grabbed your weapon and rushed to the deck. There was chaos—gunfire, yelling, the sound of swords clashing. The ship rocked violently as another vessel broke through the mist. The crew fought with desperation, scrambling for survival. You shouted orders, trying to bring some kind of order to the madness, but the attack was relentless. As the ships collided, you were thrown off the deck.

You hit the water hard.

The cold shocked your body, the shock of the impact knocking the breath from your lungs. The ocean swallowed you. Waves battered your body. You fought to surface, but the currents were unforgiving, dragging you deeper into the dark, unknown depths.

And then you saw her.

She was there.

A figure in the darkness of the sea, moving gracefully like a shadow in the night. Her hair, dark as the water around her, swirled around her face. Her tail, a shimmering mass of deep violet and black, glinted as it flicked through the water.

“Finally,” she whispered, her voice resonating inside your skull, clear as day despite the water. “You’ve come back to me.”

You couldn’t understand what was happening. You struggled to move, but your limbs felt like lead in the cold water. She swam toward you, so effortlessly, so beautifully, you almost forgot to breathe. Her smile was too perfect, too knowing.

“You don’t need to fight,” she cooed, voice low, predatory. “You belong here, with me. You’ll be mine.”

Her eyes, impossibly bright, locked onto yours. The gaze was magnetic—hypnotic. Her fingers grazed the side of your face, soft like the surface of the water itself. Her skin was cold—strangely cold, and when she touched you, you felt that coldness seeping into you.

“You’re not real,” you gasped, trying to shove her away.

She laughed softly, the sound echoing through the water.

“Oh, but I am real. I’ve always been real,” she whispered, curling her fingers into your hair. “You wanted this. You just didn’t know it yet.”

Your body went rigid as she pulled you deeper into the water. Her tail wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer. You struggled, heart hammering in your chest as panic began to creep up your spine.

“No,” you gasped, but the words were swallowed by the pressure of the water.

But then—everything stopped. A sharp tug at your shoulder.

“There!” A voice shouted.

Rough hands gripped you, pulling you up, away from the depths, away from her.

“Let him go!” Jisoo shrieked. Her voice was a primal, guttural sound that rattled through your bones. “He’s mine! MINE!”

A blast of air filled your lungs as you were yanked out of the water, gasping for breath. You were pulled onto a sturdy lifeboat, hands steadying you.

“Are you alright?” Jackson asked, his face pale, eyes wide with concern. “What the hell happened out there?”

You could barely answer. You were still reeling, trying to process the strange, horrifying encounter. Your thoughts were a mess.

“What was that?” you managed to choke out.

Jackson glanced back at the water. “Mermaids,” he muttered. “Goddamn mermaids. I should’ve known.”

You didn’t understand. You didn’t want to understand.

As you regained your composure, your crew—what was left of them—began to gather their bearings. Jackson, Ren, Marco, and Elias. Four of you left. But something felt off, and you couldn’t shake the feeling. Jisoo wasn’t done with you. She was out there, waiting.

The next morning, things only grew stranger. You reached the shore of a small island. The trees were dark, thick with a strange mist that never seemed to lift. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It wasn’t just the eerie quiet; it was the presence you felt in the air, the way the world seemed to hold its breath.

Jackson and Ren began preparing the fire, Marco wandered off to gather wood, and Elias began to examine the nearby rocks.

“I’ll be fine,” Marco assured the group, waving a hand as he disappeared into the trees.

You didn’t hear from him again.

That night, the search began.

You found Marco’s body first.

It was in the shallows, washed up onto the beach. His eyes were wide, unblinking, but his body—his body had been torn apart. And there was something on the sand, a strange, twisted shape. Something that looked too much like… bones. Twisted, warped—human bones.

A shiver ran down your spine. You turned to Jackson. His face was ashen. Ren’s lips trembled as he stepped back.

“We need to leave,” Ren whispered, his voice tight with fear. “We need to go. Now."

But it was already too late.

The water began to churn, dark shapes moving under the surface. A ripple of movement.

And then—they came.

Mermaids.

There were too many to count, their bodies sleek and glistening with the dark waters. They emerged, their eyes glowing, claws sharp, as they grabbed hold of the boat, dragging it under. Ren and Elias were gone. Just like that. The mermaids dragged them beneath the waves, their screams still echoing in the air—desperate and filled with terror. The sound of their bodies being torn apart was sickening. The mermaids didn’t stop, didn’t care. They ripped open their guts, laughing in cruel delight as they held up pieces of them like trophies. Elias's intestines dangled from one of their claws, and the mermaid tossed them up in the air, giggling darkly. Ren's chest was ripped wide open, his heart still beating in the water as they mocked him, the bloody mess in their hands a twisted joke. I tried to help. I screamed for them, begged for anything—anything to stop it, but it was too late. Too late to save them. They were just... gone. And I was left behind, helpless, with only their broken bodies in my mind.

It was just you and Jackson now, and that primal, gnawing terror had settled deep in your chest. The silence between you was suffocating, thick with fear. Jackson was shaking, his face pale as he stumbled backward, eyes darting around, as if he could escape the horror that was closing in on you both. His voice trembled as he muttered to himself, the panic obvious in his words.

“What the hell… what the hell is happening?!” His breathing was ragged. “We—We can’t be the last ones. We can’t...”

You could barely breathe, your chest tightening with each passing second. But then—there was movement in the water. A flash of sleek, dark scales.

Before you could react, Jackson was yanked from behind, his body jerking violently as something cold, something strong, latched onto his head. A sharp, inhuman laugh echoed through the air as a mermaid surfaced, its claws sinking deep into Jackson’s skull, dragging him back with terrifying force.

“No!” Jackson screamed, struggling wildly, his hands clawing at the creature’s grip, but it was useless. The mermaid’s grip tightened like a vice. His cries were cut short by a sickening snap—his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, and a horrible, wet crack rang through the air.

You froze. You wanted to scream, to run, to do something, but your body wouldn’t obey. Jackson’s limp form hung in the creature’s grasp, his eyes wide and vacant.

With a twisted grin, the mermaid pulled him under, his body flailing, arms still trying to fight back, even in death. The water churned around him, dark red mixing with the sea as the mermaids closed in. They tore into Jackson, his flesh no longer his own, their claws raking through his body with savage hunger. You could hear the tearing of flesh, the bone breaking with each pull, the sickening sound of it all echoing in your ears.

His screams, his pleas, were drowned out in the dark water.

And then—silence.

All that remained was the water, now stained with Jackson’s blood, and you—alone. Frozen. The terror still gnawing at you, its teeth sharp and relentless.

But through it all, you couldn’t stop thinking of her. Jisoo. She was coming. You knew she was.

And in the depths, her voice called to you once more.

“Don’t be afraid, my love,” she whispered from the sea. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

The waves crashed again against your raft, pulling it deeper into the water. The cold seeped into your bones as the sea threatened to swallow you whole. Your chest tightened, your body trembling, but even in the face of such overwhelming fear, a part of you wanted to surrender, wanted to sink into the darkness, to be with her.

The sea took everything from you.

And Jisoo… she took you, too.

You were dragged under, the water closing in around you like a suffocating tomb. Her grip was like ice, her fingers curling around your wrist, dragging you deeper into the abyss. You gasped for breath, but all you got was the suffocating, cold water filling your lungs. Panic surged through you, your chest aching as you struggled, your limbs too heavy, too weak to fight against her pull. She smiled, that same knowing, predatory smile as she took you into her world.

"You’ll never escape me," she whispered, her voice like silk, wrapping around your mind.

You couldn’t respond, couldn’t scream—your body was already failing. Your vision blurred, your consciousness slipping away, as the coldness of the ocean swallowed you whole.

But just as the darkness was about to claim you, Jisoo’s grip on your wrist tightened, pulling you back toward her. You felt her lips press against your ear, her voice dripping with venomous sweetness.

"Hold on," she murmured, her breath warm against your frozen skin.

And then she placed something in your hand. It was small, smooth, and warm—an orb, glowing with a soft, pulsating light. Your fingers instinctively closed around it as she held it to your lips.

“Swallow it,” she commanded, her tone dark and seductive.

You did as she told you, your body betraying you, your instincts fading beneath her presence. The moment the orb passed your lips, you felt a strange warmth flood your chest, followed by a sharp, sudden pressure in your head, like something unlocking deep within you. A strange pulse reverberated through your veins, and the water around you suddenly didn’t feel as suffocating. You could breathe. Underwater.

But as the warmth spread through your chest, you felt something else—a weakness. Your muscles, once strong enough to struggle against the waves, now felt like jelly. You were sluggish, barely able to move. The weight of the water seemed heavier, pressing down on you with every passing second. You tried to push yourself away from her, but your body refused to obey. You were powerless, trapped beneath the surface, unable to escape.

Jisoo’s laughter echoed in your ears, soft and soothing, like a lullaby. She swam around you, her movements graceful, hypnotic. Her hands reached out, cupping your face with cold fingers as she brought her face close to yours.

“Now you can never leave me,” she whispered. “The orb binds you to me. You’ll be mine, forever. The sea will never let you go. Not when it makes you weak, makes you need me.”

You tried to shake your head, to fight against her, but your body wouldn’t listen. The orb pulsed in your chest, anchoring you to her, anchoring you to the water, making every breath harder. You were tethered to the sea, tethered to her.

She smiled, a dark, knowing smile, as she wrapped her arms around you, holding you close. You couldn’t escape, couldn’t even move. Your body was no longer your own.

"You’ll never leave me now," she purred, her voice both soothing and terrifying. "I’ll keep you with me, in my world. Forever."

And in that moment, you knew it was true. You were hers now. Forever. And the ocean, like her, would never let you go.

#kpop yandere #yandere kpop #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere blog #yandere stories #yandere x you #male reader #kpop story #yandere story #yandere x male reader #yandere scenarios #yandere girl

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super-ion · 5 months ago

Text

The Engineer

Part 6

(part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5)

I catch a glimpse of the Pilot as she is wheeled towards the med bay. Her eyes are wild, panicked, with the glaze of just having been torn out of herself.

For a moment, as the gurney slides by, those eyes briefly clear, ice blue pinning me to the spot. She reaches out with an emaciated arm, fast as lightning, and takes hold of my wrist in an iron grip.

She moves her lips, at first unable to form words, unable to remember how to use human speech organs.

"Do your job," she says, slowly, deliberately, as if that singular command is the only thing in the universe that matters.

Something in the gurney clicks and whirs and she slips into catatonia. Her grip loosens and her fingers trail away.

Something has gone terribly wrong in this last engagement.

Alarms blare and booted feet thunder past me.

My own feet join the cacophony.

I have a job to do.

The Pilot is alive and she is now the responsibility of the med team.

My responsibility is the Machine.

Do your job.

The words echo in my head as I sprint the remaining distance to the vestibule.

A tech tries to stop me, he says something I don't quite process. I shove past him and am greeted by a scene out of a nightmare.

Morrigan's hatch has been severed, the emergency release pyros having been triggered. The parts of her hull visible to the vestibule are pitted and blackened. I can't even find the stencilled lettering of her factory designated identifier, just an ugly hole torn open by an incendiary.

Inside, the cockpit is a mess of fire suppressant and crash gel. Indicator lights form a constellation of blinking red and half of the display panels, the half that still work, flash an endless stream of error messages.

Everything reeks of ammonia and ozone and scorched metal.

"Me or Morrigan could get dead in the next engagement."

The nonchalance with which those words had been delivered caught me off guard when they were spoken. Morrigan and Her Pilot are untouchable. They were supposed to be untouchable.

Do your job.

I begin to strip as fast as humanly possible. I need to get in there. I need to know that she is alive.

The tech that tried to stop me grabs my arm. You can't go in there, the reactor has not been stabilized.

I tear myself from his grip.

I have a job to do, I say with a snarl.

Something in my expression, my bared teeth, my feral eyes, convinces him to leave me be. He stands down, hands raised in surrender. He could call security, but by the time they get here, I'll already be jacked in, and it will be too late for them to do anything.

Do your job. Do your job. Do your job.

My job is information recovery and analysis.

My job is to save as much as I can.

I need to save Her.

One of the cameras spots me and the others focus on me in panicked motion. The one nearest to me has a cracked lens and the iris flutters open and closed, unable to focus.

The cradle has been mangled nearly beyond recognition. They had to physically cut the Pilot out of Her, neither of them willing to let go of the other. The still operable mechanisms of it jerk erratically, trying vainly to reconfigure for me. Her neural interface port reaches towards me desperately.

I scrabble to Her, pressing myself into the cradle. The shorn, inoperable pieces dig painfully into my flesh. The neural insertion is not gentle, the plug scrapes painfully against my skin before it finds the jack and shoves roughly into me.

"I'm here," I tell Her as the link is established.

It's bad.

It's worse than I feared.

Reactor housing is damaged. System failsafes are vainly attempting to stabilize it while ground crews work as fast at they can towards a purge of the system.

Her processor core… fuck. My mind struggles to make sense of the telemetry stream. Multiple processor modules fractured. Unstable resonance modes. Positron avalanche. System collapse imminent.

My breath catches and my heart pounds in my chest.

She is dying.

Do your job.

The umbilical data lines aren't receiving, rogue processes are preventing access to primary communication channels. I work furiously to establish auxiliary paths for the data transfer. In fits and starts, the data recorder begins streaming into the facility mainframe.

There is a problem.

The data repository is meant for telemetry and battle space recordings. If I attempted to back up her core personality engrams, everything that makes her who she is, the data would get scrubbed and purged faster than I could back them up elsewhere.

There isn't time to set up an alternate backup repository.

- PILOT STATUS?

"She's safe," I tell Her. “You completed your mission. Your Pilot… Our Pilot is safe.”

- ENGINEER STATUS?

"Status is… not good…"

- PLEASE DO NOT CRY.

Fuck.

I drag my hand over my face, smearing the tears gathering in my eyes.

Now that the data is streaming there is nothing I can do but feel her die as I lie in her embrace.

I can not conceive a reality in which I exist without her.

And the Pilot. The Pilot will not survive, not with half of who she is destroyed.

"The three of us, we're just this fucking tangle, aren't we?"

Do your job.

Save Her.

Save. Her.

I know this system. I know it more intimately than anyone alive.

There *is* one data connection I haven't considered. There *is* one piece of external storage currently connected.

Shit.

I act.

I open up a new interface in my hud. Morrigan's attention fixes on me, on the calculations I'm running through my head and I can feel Her dawning horror over the link.

Neural bleed. It works both ways.

All neural rigs are designed to facilitate data transfer between an organic brain and a mechanical one. Mine is no exception. Mine hasn't undergone all the upgrades needed for a pilot's full sensorium, but the core neural interface is the same.

If I disable safety overrides, if I bypass the data buffers, I can download her personality engrams directly into my prefrontal cortex.

I have no idea what that will do to me.

Exceptional synchrony and neuro-elasticity. That's what my intake assessments had said all those years ago. I was in the upper quintile among all pilot candidates. Maybe that was my downfall. Maybe that's why I washed out.

Maybe that's why I'm here now, contemplating this singularly desperate act.

Maybe that's why my neural bleed with Her has been so deep. Maybe there is something in me that is in tune with Them.

But as far as I know, no one has ever attempted anything like this. It could very well kill me.

But the thought of living without Her is more terrifying than the prospect of dying. It's more terrifying than what might happen to me if this works.

Morrigan pleads with me.

- STOP.

"No. I can't stop," I reply. "I need you."

- NO.

"Yes, I do," I tell her. "Your Pilot needs you."

I can feel Her emotional flinch over the link. I have the one piece of leverage I need, and She knows it.

"Wouldn't you give anything, sacrifice anything to see her again?"

It's a dirty trick, I know it is, playing off that one connection, her deepest, most intimate connection. Maybe I mean something to Her, but She and the Pilot were made for each other in the most literal sense.

And I suddenly realize that I am doing this as much for the Pilot as any of us. That surprises me. As much as I have tried to distance myself from other human beings, I became entangled with her the moment I opened myself up to Morrigan.

I would never be able to face her if I didn't do everything in my power to save the Machine.

A processor module fails outright. The system struggles to reallocate resources, but submodules throughout the entire system are strained to their limit.

There isn't any time left and She knows it.

She sullenly acedes.

We begin working in concert, me working to disable safety protocols in my rig, Her working to isolate and distill Her core personality patterns into something that can be handled by the bandwidth of the interface.

An alarm pings over the link. Reactor purge in progress. Power fluctuations spike all over her systems. Her processor power distribution subsystem is completely fucked. It won't be able to keep up with current activity levels as the whole system switches over to umbilical power.

Out of time.

I engage the final override, by mind suddenly open to hers, the neural link unbuffered, unfiltered.

Her mind presses in on me and I glimpse the full sensorium. I feel all of her pain and fear and anguish at what she is about to do to me.

My fingers tingle before they go numb.

"Do it," I command her.

- I LOVE YOU.

Data transfer initiates.

This isn't neural bleed.

This is a flood.

My body convulses.

I taste something coppery in my mouth.

Someone somewhere screams.

The scream is mine.

My rig isn't built for this. My body isn't conditioned for this.

Every nerve in me blazes white hot.

My vision tunnels as auras bloom like bruises on the skin of reality.

Shouts of alarm call from outside the cockpit.

A face resolves itself, and for a moment I think it's Her.

The Pilot.

A Priestess.

An Angel.

No.

It.

It is one of the techs.

Then a medic.

More shouting.

Get her out of there!

Every muscle in my body clenches painfully.

I can barely breathe.

Cut her loose!

No.

It's not done yet. It's not enough.

It's too much.

Too much. Too much. Too much.

I can't.

I can't stop. Not yet.

Do your job.

Save Her.

My body convulses once again, and I pass into oblivion.

(next)

~~~

@digitalsymbiote @g1ngan1nja @thriron @ephemeral-arcanist @mias-domain @justasleepykitten @powder-of-infinity @valkayrieactual @chaosmagetwin @assigned-stupid-at-birth @avalanchenouveau @rtfmx9 @femgineerasolution @ibleedelectric @gd-s451 @brieflybitten

#mech posting #human x machine #robot x human #mech pilot x mechanic #mechposting #my writing #writers on tumblr #lesbian #scifi #science fiction

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fanaticsnail · 1 year ago

Note

SNAILLL!DROP ANOTHER KILLER or /KID FIC! AND MY LIFE IS URS🙏

honestly love all ur work💛🙈

But why can't we have both?

Acid, Salt, Fat and Heat

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 5,600+

Synopsis: Your captain has engaged with a petulant challenge that included refusing to make port until both Kid and Law did first. Feeling pent up at sea, you set your sights on the blonde first mate to aid you in finding relief. The catch? He won't unless his captain does too.

Warnings: Eustass Kid x afab!reader x Massacre Soldier Killer, MDNI, 18+, smut, NSFW, throuple, with little plot, double penetration (same hole), facial (reader receiving), eating from the back (reader receiving), cock sucking, poor puns, poor jokes, vibrator play, swearing, pet names (little one, little thing, kitten, Straw-Hat, buttercup, sunshine), messy eating, masked sex, fingering, finger sucking, inappropriate use of devil fruit, size difference (average afab 163cms, Kid & Killer 200cms), praise, cervix touching, Killer has a shrill laugh, overstimulation, aftercare, creampie, squirting.

Notes: the smuttiest smut I have written on main. Shout out to the OC discord chat and @thenotsofantasticlifestory for their input! Love you guys 🖤

“You sure you can handle it, kitten?” Eustass Kid purred at you, reaching his right arm up to flick at your chin. His purple-hued fingernails colliding with your skin caused shivers to shoot down your spine and ignite your senses with anticipation.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you nodded your head slowly with your lips parted. He hummed down at you, his close-lipped smile splitting up his cheeks and his eyes narrowing to assess you further. Leaning down to a lower stoop, he hovered his painted lips above yours. The heat of his breath tingled against your skin, your body moving against its will to draw ever closer to the man in front of you.

As you drew yourself closer, the two arms of the man behind you clapped over your upper arms and tugged you flush into his chest. A soft gasp fled your lips, head tilting back and glancing up at the base of the blue and teal mask above your vision. Gulping back a soft mouthful of saliva, you began to double back on your prior over eagerness to engage with not one, but two, very eager playmates.

It had been a while since the Victoria Punk had docked at port, the entire crew feeling exceptionally pent up and in need to release their energy. Engaging in trysts amongst the crew was not unheard of, but it was uncommon. Ruining camaraderie and rapport was the main reason for the lack of entanglements, and Eustass Kid did not want to lose any more of his crew to their own broken heartedness.

Similarly to you, the crew of the Thousand Sunny were not helpful with catering to your needs. Luffy refused to make port due to the fact that both Kid and Law had yet to dock the Tang and the Punk. He was not going to lose to them, no matter how much you were in desperate need of relief.

When the three ships had brushed their hulls together, ropes thrown over the sides and knots tugged firmly to pull them flush against one another, you were bursting at the seams to at least talk to someone who was not a member of your crew. Shachi and Penguin were always a delight, and you couldn't get enough of their chaos.

However, when the blonde first mate of the Kid Pirates stepped over the barricade of the Thousand Sunny with a large pot of pasta, you were just about ready to spread your legs and have him take you on the dining table. Sanji was an excellent cook, but there was something about the blonde’s pasta that made you weak in the knees.

You had never engaged intimately with any member of the other two crews before, but the neediness pooling and soaking your underwear at the first bite of penne encouraged you to be a little bolder in your intentions. Killer was your first target to attempt to woo your way into his pants, but in doing so, it only attracted the magnetic presence of Eustass “Captain” Kid in the process.

“Fucking hell, Massacre Soldier!” you moaned, chewing back on the aldente texture of the cylindrical tubes, “Whoever said sex was the best thing invented hasn't tried this fucking pasta!”

That earned you a shrill giggle from the larger man, alongside a barked laugh from his captain a little further away. You beamed at the redhead, scrunching your nose playfully at him before the blonde recalled your attention.

“If you think my pasta is good,” the larger blonde huffed down at you, leaning closer to your ear, “You should see what else I can do with just a few ingredients.” You giggled at his comment, genuinely enjoying his comradery beside you.

“Oh yeah?” you arch your brows up at him, gently leaning in closer and brushing your thigh against the outside of his, “Tell me, big guy, what ingredients can you see yourself toying with here?” Killer twitched his head to the side, not expecting this kind of sultriness from a Straw-Hat.

Turning on the wooden pew beside you, he cupped the back of your thigh with his larger hand and gave your flesh a gentle squeeze. He gave you a little pause to test how far he was allowed to pursue you, which you would've appreciated in any other encounter. You were simply too pent up to care, arching your back and sucking your lips into your mouth to still the spread of your smile.

“See, I'm easy,” he hums down at you, “Every good recipe has four main ingredients: acid, salt, fat, and heat.” You nod along to his explanation, your brows knitting together as his fingers brush up and down your thigh before clasping around your hip. Holding your bone firmly, he tugs you towards him and engulfs your form with his larger chest.

“You think you can take my fat cock, little one?” he hushed down at you, causing your fluster to rise higher in your face. He hummed at your reaction, bringing his other hand up to capture your chin, “See, now there's the heat. You're practically radiating with it. I bet your pussy would be just as warm.” His thumb caressed the ball on your hip.

“A-And the acid and salt?” You managed to stutter, prompting Killer to raise his hand on your chin to cup your cheek.

“I think we both know about the salt,” he cooed at you, “What I wouldn't give to pump you full of my load. I could fill you up, or use it like a glaze over your perfect skin.” Your eyes widened and your body moved closer to his against its will.

Your underwear was sticking to your pussy with how wet his words made you. Pressing your thighs together for some relief, you could barely tear your eyes away from his mask for a single moment.

“The acid is where it gets a little tricky,” he traces his hand over your cheek and down your jaw once more. He gently pushed your face away from his and drew your attention towards the redheaded captain of the Victoria Punk.

“My Cap’n gets bitter and sour if he's left out of the mix.”

The amber eyes of Eustass Kid looked dangerously over your form from across the deck. Every part of him was solid and tense, the pure lust and jealousy radiating on him like a beacon illuminating complete darkness.

“You reckon you've got a way we can both fit, little one?” he whispered into your ear, the cool puff of air tickling your ear. You shudder, closing your eyes and giving into your desires with a soft moan.

“With the right chef doing the prep work,” you whimper, “I can think of several ways I can fit the both of you, big guy.”

“That's a good little thing,” he complimented you, the smile tangibly felt in his tone, “I'll make sure you're prepped for both of us. Once we're all done with our actual food, go and give him a kiss for me, would you?”

Not tearing your eyes away from Eustass Kid, you nod dumbly and slowly. Kid is taken aback by your action: cocking his head to the side, narrowing his eyes, and furrowing his brows. Darting his attention between you and Killer, he finally has the thought bloom in his mind and shoot straight to his cock.

He was going to fuck his little Straw Hat with his first mate.

And that is where you found yourself, wedged between two broad chests and grabby hands in the captain's quarters aboard the Victoria Punk. The red tint of Eustass Kid's lips finally collided with your mouth as he pressed himself against you. Desperation and neediness arose in you all, Kid's arm snaking around your shoulder prompted Killer to bring his hands down to the front of your pants.

As Kid’s tongue entered your mouth, Killer dipped his fingers beneath your waistline and immediately slipped his fingers between your glossy folds. You whimper into the mouth of Kid, prompting him to chuckle and consume your moans with more fervor. Growling into your lips, he tugged you closer to him while tilting his pointed chin up to get a better angle.

While tugged closer to Kid, Killer's fingers ground themselves against your clit in small circles. The pads of his large fingertips rocked against your hooded pearl and caused your slit to gush out a fresh wave of arousal. You parted your lips to mewl into Kid's mouth, which caused his teeth to seek out and bully your lower lips with soft nips.

“Fuck, our little one is so wet, Cap’n,” Killer gasped behind you, “I think I can make them cum just like this-...” He increased his speed, flickering your sensitive nerves with each different motion. Kid pulled his lips away from yours, a string of saliva attaching to both his and your lips with the soft tint of red paint lingering within.

“You gonna cum, kitten? You want the big guy to make you cum on his hand?” Kid goaded you, prompting you to pout at him. He removed his hand from your shoulder and pinched your chin in his thumb and index finger.

“Look at me while he makes you cum,” he ordered you, looking down his nose at you as your body continued to be worked at by Killer behind you. As much as you wanted to hold back from submitting to his request, one more swipe at your clit had your pussy contracting and fluttering with the overwhelming bliss of your orgasm.

“F-Fuck,” you stuttered, holding your eyes against Kid's as Killer continued to usher you through ecstasy. Slouching your back against Killer, you keened into his neck as he held you firmly against his chest. His forearm rocked against your chest, prompting you to buck your hips into his hands.

“There you go, little one,” Killer cooed down at you, slowing down his rocking to a steady pause. Running his fingers through your oversensitive folds causes you to shudder and mewl at the sensation. Withdrawing his hand up in front of you, he scissors the glistening slick on his fingertips.

“Fuck, look at that,” Kid gasped, his former abrasive attitude melting away as soon as he saw your essence, “Give us a taste, would you?” Killer offered Kid his hands, Kid making eye contact with you as he parted his lips and swirls his tongue over Killer’s fingers.

Humming, he immediately closes his eyes and cleans Killer’s fingers with his lips and tongue. Killer huffs out a sigh, bucking his hips and grinding his clothed cock against your ass, his neediness growing the longer he holds off from sinking himself into you. Kid pulled his lips off Killer’s fingers with a soundly ‘pop’ before looking up into your face once more.

“You need to get prepped before you take the both of us, kitten. All fours for me, would you?” Kid ushered you over to his large bed, the duvet astray and pillows askew, “Pants off, sunshine. Lemme see it all.” Killer whimpered at your absence, his cock aching and twitching beneath his pants.

The three of you were all as needy as one another, your pussy already dripping with desire thanks to Killer's earlier words, and coaxing an orgasm from you by just rubbing your clit alone. Your pants and shirt were cast aside hurriedly, your chest now exposed and nipples peaked within the cool air. Hooking your fingers into the hips of your underwear, you began pulling them over your ass slowly. The groin of the material stuck to you, the dark patch of arousal from your core painted the center and dampened the fabric.

“Fuck, you're so wet,” Kid stuttered out, his voice breathy and body immediately sauntering over to you with desperation in his footing, “Where do you want, Kil? You want our little Straw-Hat’s pussy, mouth, or ass?” You could barely register any words, arching your back and planting your head onto Kid’s mattress as they discussed what to do with you.

“Wherever you don't want, Cap’n,” he whispered huskily, his eyes hungrily consuming your body with his pointed gaze, “Fuck, that ass does look good, though.” Kid laughed at his oldest friend, clapping his right hand over his right shoulder while pressing a curt kiss against his right.

“Go put their head in your lap, hm?” Kid directed his first mate, “Hear that, kitten? You're gonna suck Killer's cock and treat him right.” You begin to raise your head off the bed, halting when you felt a metal casing cage around your stomach and hold you flush against the mattress. The ringing of belts and dropping of heavy materials on the floor indicated your two bed guests had shed themselves of their clothes.

Kid's metal hand elevated you effortlessly, your face growing more flustered as you felt him pant against your pussy from behind. Killer crawled into the bed, your hands hastily drawing his large thighs closer to you. Nestling your head between his thighs, your eyes drank in the pretty cock bobbing in front of you. Without any further word or direction, your smaller hands wrapped around his large cock and your lips found his inner thigh.

Chasing a trail of kisses over his inner legs, you ground your palm against his cock before pumping his shaft. Killer panted, his cock involuntarily twitching and bobbing with every subtle change you made. Drawing yourself up onto your forearms, you lulled your tongue outside your lips and licked a heavy stripe along the underside of his cock. Following the bulbous vein up his shaft, you flickered your tongue over his blunt tip and collected the first few drops of precum onto your palate.

As soon as you parted your lips to take his knob into your mouth, you cried out as you felt your folds part by Eustass Kid’s large, red tongue. Your eagerness to take Killer’s cock into your mouth multiplied tenfold, using him as a tool to ground yourself to the earth while the motion of Kid's tongue had you ascending. Flicking and bobbing his head, Kid mouthed at you, rolling your sensitive clit over his tongue and sucking briefly on whatever took his fancy.

You had never engaged with anyone so eager to please you with their mouth, feeling yourself truly unable to hold back the rocking of your hips into his face as you began to take Killer's cock into your mouth. Filling your lips with Killer's fat tip, you whimpered and keened around it as Kid rocked your body against his face with his cool metal arm.

“Fuck, little one,” Killer gasped for you, his hand falling down to cradle your scalp and coax you to bob against him, “You feel so good. How you doing back there, Cap'n?” All Kid could find in his coherence was a groan at the back of his throat, too drunk on your essence to give either of you an answer.

Taking what you could of Killer's cock in your mouth, you pumped the remainder of the base with one hand, while the other caressed his balls.

“Hhah-... F-fuck-... I-I-...” Killer threw his head back, bucking his hips up to fill more of your mouth with his fat cock, “...-I don't know how long I'll last like this. Fuck, little one. Who taught you how to suck cock like that?” You attempted to giggle at him, only halting as you felt Eustass Kid pull away from your pussy to spit on it. You whimpered, feeling his lips dive back in and flicker over your clit.

You had half a mind to talk to Killer and tease him, but Kid’s skilled lips and tongue had your mind foggy and clouded by each fell swipe. The coil in your abdomen began to stir and tighten to a tense pinnacle, just as Killer felt his balls twitch and draw up into his stomach. Kid’s tongue pressed against your entrance, lapping messily and greedily into your slit while humming and moaning at the taste of your arousal.

“Nghhm-... F-Fuck! Stop- I'm gonna c-cum!” Killer attempted to warn you, already past the point of halting his eruption while desperately trying not to cum in your mouth. Tugging at your scalp to halt you, you managed to shake your head and bob it faster over his shaft. “No, no, no, no, no-...” He stuttered, finally getting a foothold on your head and hastily tugging you away from his cock.

Just as your lips left his knob, you couldn't help but desperately pump his shaft as Kid has you unravel on his tongue. The coil in your stomach snapped and your walls spasmed around his tongue with the first waves of your orgasm. Massacre Soldier Killer held the back of your head in a firm cradle, his cock twitching as you pumped him. Your thumb flicked over his tip, which switched the final channel of lust in Killer's stomach and had him cry out for you.

His cum shot out and immediately splashed over your forehead, cheek, and chin in thick ropes. The milky-colored seed littered your skin in hot splashes, immediately causing you to cum harder against Kid’s face and tongue.

“Shit!” Killer cursed at the sight laid out before him. His captain's face buried deep within your thighs, lapping greedily and messily at your walls while he coated your face in his thick cum. Each splash from Killer seemed to propel you to cry out and cum harder against Kid's face, truly basking in the fact he couldn't contain himself or force himself back from that edge.

Both riding your highs down, Kid gave your clit a quick kiss before bringing himself up to the sight above him. Killer's chest rose and fell in a thick pant, his cock still proudly standing as it dribbled with the soft aftershocks of his release. Your face was riding the blissful waves of a soft afterglow directly after contorting in ecstasy. Lips parted, eyes closed, and face completely covered in several waves of Killer’s heavy load.

“Fuck, big guy,” Kid chuckled at his first mate, “There’s so much.” Kid gives your ass a gentle slap as he crawls up to hover over your back. “So messy, kitten,” he commented on your face, “Hand us a tissue would you, Kil?”

“I-... I got it…” Killer panted, reaching to the bedside table to the right of him. Tearing four leaves in hasty consecutive motions, he drew the material to your face and began dabbing at the cum while Kid rubbed his hand along your back and traced every dip and crevace along your spine.

Several fragments of the tissue paper stuck to your face, prompting you to giggle up at the big guy as he cleaned you.

“Sorry about that, little one. I tried to warn you it was gonna happen,” he spoke in a low and warm tone, “What would you have preferred, me cumming in that beautiful mouth of yours?”

“I would prefer it if you came in my pussy, honestly,” you admit with a shrug, causing Kid to let out a sound between a growl and a whimper. Kid gave you a final dab of the cheeks before giving your nose a gentle, affectionate tap.

“You'll still get some in your pussy if you want it,” Killer cooed at you, turning you to face Kid as he knelt back. His red lip paint spilt over his lipline, the juices of your release glistening against his chin and nose. Smirking up at him, you barely had the opportunity to raise your hand before he pounced on you.

Pushing your back flush against Killer’s chest, Kid rose your hips and sat you on Killer’s Adonis belt above his deflating cock. Eustass Kid’s angry cock twitched it's shaft as he caged both you and Killer beneath his looming form.

“Feeling adequately prepped for me, kitten?” Kid purred down at you, playfully nudging your chin with his forehead to push your head back to lull into Killer’s shoulder, “Or should I fuck you with my metal hand to stretch you a bit?”

“I can take your cock, Captain,” you scoff, attempting to look down at his steely shaft, only for him to push you back down into Killer’s shoulder once more.

“You say that now,” Kid cackled at you, rubbing his tip against your folds before placing the tip at your entrance, “...but once I sink in a little-.” He rocked his hips forward a little,

“-Ah, fuck!” you cry out at the stretch, prompting him to immediately pull his cock head away from your entrance. Killer wrapped his hands around your waist, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. Kid and Killer both share a glance with one another, communicating wordlessly before Kid placed his tip at your entrance one more time.

As he slowly pressed his mushroomed knob into your needy cunt, Killer reached his hands down to pry your folds apart with the heels of each palm, seeking out your clit and gently caressing it with his thumbs. Immediately your body relaxes and your hips rock against each roll of his digits in your clit. Kid sunk himself down further, eyes not leaving your face as he watches intently for any discomfort.

“There you go, little one,” Killer praised you, enjoying the feeling of your ass rocking against his Adonis belt, “Taking the Cap'n so well. Good job, just a little more.” Kid fought back the urge to slam his hips forward and immediately sheathe himself in your gummy walls. Using each fiber of his being to not give in to the temptation, he inched himself slowly into your needy core.

“You're doing well too, Cap'n,” Killer hummed up at the redhead, “Being gentle with our little Straw Hat, while I know you want to give in.” Kid whimpered, pressing his goggle-adorned forehead against your chest to hide his fluster. Gently rocking forward, your back bowed as you finally felt him press up to the hilt.

Giving a testy buck of his hips, Killer ensured both you and Kid felt secure enough while still gently rubbing circles against your clit. Kid felt your walls flutter and adjust to his size.

“Nggh-... Fuck…” Kid whispered against your flushed skin, pressing a soft kiss against the bone in the center of your chest. “...why haven't we done this sooner again?” He chuckled into your chest, rolling his head up and resting his chin at the center.

“Because we haven't been desperate enough to try?” you offered him with an arched brow. He huffed aggitatedly, rolling his hips against yours and testing the stretch. Killer braced you against him, holding you completely against his broad chest and taught stomach muscles.

“Fuck,” you keen for Kid, feeling the way each rake of his cock inside you molded you to the shape of him, “That, and I didn't think you were interested in fucking a Straw Hat.”

Kid stopped his movements, sheathing himself to the hilt within your pussy and turning your chin with his flesh hand. Your eyes met his through fluttered lids, examining his expression with curiousity. He drew his face towards yours, all prior cockiness melting away and a stern seriousness left in its stead.

“We don't want to fuck a Straw Hat,” he uttered, his lips almost brushing with yours, “We want to fuck our Straw Hat.” You only had a moment to react to the admission before Kid started properly rocking his hips into you. No more timidity, no more subtlty, all of Eustass Kid’s hulking form finally giving in to his feral urges now that you had fully adjusted to his size.

“Our little Straw Hat,” he growled into your skin, pressing his lips to your neck and mouthing at the skin, “Our spicy little kitten,” he chuckled into you, cementing and punctuating his exclaim with a crude slap of his hips meeting your pelvis. Killer let out a squeak of laughter at that comment, to which you would've laughed along with him if Eustass Kid wasn't slapping his balls against your unexplored ass hole with each heavy, deep thrust.

Killer hummed down at you, removing his hand from between you both in favour of hooking his legs beneath your thighs and raising them to your chest. Kid rose his right leg, trapping Killer’s leg beneath him and changing the angle of each stroke. You mewled out, gasping for air as Killer exposed more of your pussy for Kid to drive into. Killer never took his eyes off you, insuring you were enjoying the feeling of how deep Kid burried himself into you with each buck and rock.

As you adjusted to the depth of his deep rocking, Kid hooked his other leg over Killer's, crouching in a deep lunge. His motions were now so deep, you felt your air being pushed from your throat, and his bulge deep in your abdomen. Kid's lips parted, huffing and panting with his eyes scrunched tightly shut. The crude, squelching ‘plap,’ of his balls slapping against your overstimulated pussy was enough for Killer’s cock to twitch back to life, his own empathetic waves of pleasure coiling in the pit of his stomach.

Your lips parted, brows raising to a peak at the center of your face as you felt Kid finally hit your g-spot with each crude hook of his blunt tip. Your collective moans grew louder, all carelessly flinging them from your chests as you raised your hand up to cup at Kid’s neck.

“Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum! F-F-Fuck- I'm cumming,” Kid cried out, his cock twitching and motions drawing into a manic pace. You barely had any chance to catch up to him, feeling far too overwhelmed by the depth of his cock to properly contract around him. Hot waves of his thick release blew out of his small slit and splashed back against your cervix. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he changed with each languid thrust, falling into his knees and continuing to rock into you. You moaned with him, feeling his release coat your walls with each motion.

Killer couldn't stop what happened next, his body reacted of his own accord. As Kid pulled out, Killer’s fully erect cock danced at your entrance. Kid looked down at Killer's cock brushing against his knob and smirked at him.

“You reckon you can handle both now?” Kid asked with a chuckle in his tone. You were simply too out of it and desperate for your third release that you nodded without any afterthought. Kid reached down and pressed his cock against Killer's, Killer moaning at the immediate attention.

Squeezing his still drooling cock with his first mate's, Kid placed both tips at your slit. Using his prior release as lubrication, Kid rocked both Killer's and his own shiny tips into your slit. You have a soft whine at the stretch, but immediately nodded while bracing Kid's body against yourself. Kid moaned into one shoulder, while Killer hissed in the other. Both cocks slowly stretched your walls, the soft sting of your body accommodating them aided with your’s and Kid's prior release.

Only making it halfway into your pussy, Killer began to set a lazy pace inside you, brushing his frenulum against Kid’s and gasping at the feeling. You felt the most full you had ever been, sandwiched between two walls of flesh on a foreign ship, and taking two cocks deep into your pussy.

Kid pulled his head away from your shoulder to check in with you, sensing any discomfort from you by darting his eyes all over your face. He tilted his head at you, a small thought crossing his mind and causing him to chuckle.

“Mind if I try something, kitten?” he whispered in your ear, giving your skin a soft kiss after you shake your head in response.

“We're already trying a lot of new things for me,” you attempted to laugh along with your confession, huffing out while Killer rocks his cock deep inside you. Kid grins broadly, raising his hand and activating his devil fruit ability. Soaring through the air were six, small, egg-shaped objects no bigger than your thumb.

“This is gonna be new for all of us,” Kid nodded nonchalantly, his cock already twitching with interest while half-sheathed within you. You felt each rock of Killer’s hips press Kid’s knob against your g-spot, causing your walls to flutter and constrict both of them deep within you. Just as you felt yourself build up to your third climax, two of the objects attached themselves to your clit and vibrated them with a hard intensity. Two more were placed on each of the two men's balls as they buried their cocks in syncopated rhythm.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” you screamed, your pussy immediately releasing a gush of fluid directly splashing against Kid’s pelvis and Killer’s thighs. Kid gasped in surprise, groaning against the feeling of your walls fluttering against his and Killer’s cocks.

“We've got ourselves a squirter!” Kid laughed, immediately rocking with more intension, craving more immediately. “Hear that, big guy? A squirter!”

Killer was completely lost, his mind foggy and need for release causing him to whimper and whine out soft squeaks. Kid barked a soft string of laughter, riding your pussy through the waves of absolute overstimulation, increasing the intensity of the vibrating bulbs on your clit and his and Killer's balls.

“One more, one more, one more,” Kid desperately chanted, feeling his own release propel forward at the knowledge he can make you cum hard enough to splash him with it. Killer gripped your thighs harder, bucking up into your pussy with a desperation he had not felt prior. You were experiencing an outer body encounter, your body flooded with pleasure. Still riding through the waves of your prior release, you felt another creep up onto you.

“You gonna cum? You gonna cum, kitten?” Kid asked, his balls slapping against Killer's as they both thrust up into you, “You gonna squirt on our cocks again? C'mon little one. You've got more for me. Just one more. I'll cum with you, baby. You want that?” You nodded dumbly, feeling your body becoming as pliant as a marionette dancing on Kid and Killer's strings.

Kid increased the intensity of the vibrations one last time, prompting Killer to roar into your shoulder immediately. Hot spurts of his release splashed up and swirled against Kid’s former waves. The chain reaction of Killer’s release caused both you and Kid to cum alongside him. As Kid shot up into you, you released another gush of fluid over Killer’s thighs with enough power to splash against Kid’s stomach and trickle down his balls.

“Just like that, just like that,” Kid praised you, manicly rocking into you with each spurt of his cum dancing with the three fluids.

“Fu-ck!” you keened, crying tears of pleasure down your cheeks at the impact of your fourth release. Kid and Killer's movements stilled, opting to pull out of you and roll you onto your side. Killer tucked himself behind you, resting his covered forehead against your shoulder blade while Kid immediately sprung up and removed the vibrating bulbs from your bodies with a flick of his wrist.

Although he was wonky on his feet, he stumbled to the bathroom and dazedly turned the taps on for his large bathtub to fill with waters and bathing oils. Bracing himself against the side of the tub with his metal hand, he snuck a look over his shoulder at the two of you panting and catching your breaths at the intensity of your climax. Chuckling to himself, he set to work on taking care of his first mate and his little Straw Hat.

Filling a large decanter full of water, he managed to only locate two mugs, and three shot glasses in his bedroom that seemed to match. Opting for the matching set, he cleaned them in the sink and set them aside to dry. As soon as the tub filled with enough water, he turned off the tap and dipped his fingers in it to test the temperature. Nodding and feeling rather proud of himself, Kid returned to his bed and noticed the two of you had finally caught your breath and were almost asleep.

“Nope, none of that,” Kid warned you, rousing you from your almost slumber with a pout on your lips, “Gotta clean you up, buttercup. We stretched you pretty good just now, don't want you to regret it more than you already probably will.” You scoff at him, slowly drawing yourself away from the man behind you by wriggling on the mattress.

“I don't think I'm gonna regret being sandwiched between two legendary pirates, Captain,” you hummed at him, your legs feeling as stable as a plate of jelly in an earthquake. As you stumbled forward, Kid chuckled at you and caught you in his arms.

“You might not,” he shrugged, hoisting you into his arms and carrying you to his bathroom, “But your pussy might feel a little raw after a while. Lemme take care of you for a bit, alright?” Killer hummed from behind you both, rolling onto his stomach and rocking back onto his knees.

“M’coming too, Cap'n,” Killer nodded, springing to his feet and walking beside the two of you, “You reckon we can all fit in there?” All of you look down at the triangular spa and tilt your heads to the side. You giggle, looking to the mask-wearing first mate and shoot him a winning smile.

“I can think of several ways to make us all fit in there, big guy,” you hum affectionately at him with half-hooded lashes. He shakes his head, giving your chin a soft pinch, and beginning to ready the three of you by finding towels and wash clothes to dote on the both of you.

Filling up the three short glasses with cool water, Killer passed them two both you and Kid sitting beside him in the scented water. All relaxing in comfortable silence while enjoying one another's bare skin, you all finally felt the tension wash away and recline into one another. Finally finding a small semblance of peace between ports, you had never felt more content than you were with your two allied crewmen.

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