#and i think i’m reaching the point of not being able to handle it

[starshapedsupernova]

oversharing in the tags pls scroll unless you’re nosy <33

[catherinnn]

This kinda inspired by one of your enemies to lovers stories where eddie says “you wouldn’t be able to handle me” but reader instead says “oh yeah i couldn’t handle the two-centimeter-pussy-defeater bc id because i would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch.”

Sorry i have been holding that one in for quite some time 😤

Beg for it

enemies to lovers - one bed trope - eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT +18, piv, oral ( f & m), choking, degradation, unprotected sex (don't do this, this is fiction), porn with plot, fluffy at the end.

a/n: thank you for requesting babe, hope you love it!

5.7k words

“Game night at my place, the whole group will be there” Steve announces after greeting you. You went to visit him and Robin since you were already near the place. Also, maybe you could find a movie to watch tonight.

“Ugh, really? They all said yes already?” you ask.

“If you’re expecting me to say that Munson hasn’t, then I have bad news” he confirms.

“Fuck”

“You’re not even trying to be friends at this point” he complains.

“It’s impossible with him being so mean all the time” you tried to defend yourself but Robin was quick to refute your statement.

“You sure are mean to him as well, don’t act so innocent”

“Well, he started it! I didn’t even know him and he started with the jokes and asshole comments” you weren’t lying.

You were new in town, and new at the summer job your dad had found for you. He wanted you to already have some experience at working so you could make a better curriculum later. There was were you met Nancy and instantly became good friends. So much so that she had introduced you to her friend group she has had for years already. Steve, Nance, Jonathan, Robin and Eddie. The former four had been sweethearts to you since you first met them, easily becoming good friends as well. The problem was with the latter. The night Nancy had introduced you to everyone, he started being a little distant and cold towards you. You tried not to feel offended since he could just be shy or introverted, but then he started throwing snide comments and sarcastic mocking your way. You were not going to sit there and take that, so you equally threw cutting remarks at him.

That’s how the current war with him started. And that’s why your friends keep insisting with this forced proximity, so we could all be a happy family.

But it was useless, you and Eddie do agree on that.

The game night arrived that Friday. You were at the Harrington household with several board games awaiting on the table. Battleship, Clue, Guess Who, Monopoly, Scrabble, you name it.

“We wanted to make different groups and play all of these, then see which team is the best” Robin explains. “Steve and me will be team one” she says as she writes that in the whiteboard. They really went all out, since we could all be pretty competitive.

“Group two!” Jonathan exclaims quickly grabbing Nancy’s hand.

“Wait… no, definitely not” You start complaining after realizing that would mean you’re stuck with Eddie.

 “No way! I’m not teaming up with her, she’ll make us lose at everything” he complains as well.

“I will? I think the actual loser here it’s you”

“Oh, am I now-?” The metal-head starts responding when Steve steps in, cutting him off.

“Okay! Stop yelling, we’re not even playing yet! The teams have been chosen, try and be faster next time”

“We’ll start with Guess Who” Robin announces.

As the game progressed, the bickering continued.

"Does your person have brown hair?" Eddie asks Nancy and Jonathan, who nod.

You reach over to flip down the characters with blond or red hair "See, this is why we should’ve picked someone with a hat, it's less obvious"

Eddie rolled his eyes "Oh, please. Like your guess was any better. We’re losing here!” Eddie complains.

"Only if you keep making terrible guesses" you shoot back.

"Does your person have a hat?" you ask the other team.

"No"

"Still think the hat was a good idea?" Eddie raised an eyebrow at you.

"It was strategic" you huff, flipping down the characters with hats.

After playing most of the board games you had, you were tied with the second group, Steve and Robin had already lost.

“Last but not least, to decide the winner of this evening, I present… battleship” Robin announces once more.

"You sure you can keep up with this game? It requires more than just a pretty face" Eddie asks you.

"Don’t worry, I have enough brains to make up for your lack of them" you respond.

“Quit it, start playing” Steve orders.

"Let's just get this over with" you roll your eyes.

They set up the Battleship boards, each team carefully arranging their ships. Eddie and you hunched over the board, whispering fiercely.

"Put the battleship here" he insist, pointing to the top left corner.

"No, it’s too obvious. Let’s hide it in the middle"

"Fine, but when they hit it right away don’t blame me" he groans.

As the game progressed, your bickering intensified.

"B6" Jonathan called out.

You glance at the board and softly nod your head "Hit"

Eddie leans closer, his voice a teasing whisper, "I told you the corner was better"

"Just focus"

When it was your turn, Eddie called out "G4"

Nancy checks their board, "Miss"

You smirk "Looks like your guess wasn’t so great either"

Eddie rolls his eyes "Just wait"

A few rounds later, it was your turn again.

"E5" Eddie calls out.

"Miss" Nancy announces.

"I told you they wouldn’t put it there" you huff.

"Like you’ve done any better"

"How about C3?" you roll your eyes.

"Fine, C3" Eddie sighs.

"Hit" Jonathan says between his teeth.

"See? I told you" you smirk.

"Don’t get cocky, princess"

The tension built as the game neared its end, each team with only one ship left.

"Last shot, let's go with G3" Eddie says

You nod.

"You sunk our battleship" Jonathan confirms after a long sigh.

“YES!”

“COME ONN” both you and Eddie shout in excitement and before even thinking about it you hug tightly.

Robin and Steve watch the scene with wide eyes and smirks on their faces.

And the second your bodies touch each other you realize what you’re actually doing. The hug only lasts few seconds before you both back away awkwardly.

“See? You actually do make a pretty good team” Robin comments.

“Only because I took the last shot” Eddie says.

“Oh please, if it were up to you we’d still be guessing corners” you reply.

"And if it were up to you, we'd be stuck in the middle forever”

Your friends roll their eyes as the bickering continued. And as you act indifferent, you try not think about how you had to stand on the tip of your toes to wrap your arms around his neck, or how soft his hair had felt touching your skin.

His frizzy and chaotic hair. But so curly and soft.

--

Couple of weeks after that night had passed, you hung out with the guys almost every weekend. You favorite nights were the ones Eddie was busy and couldn’t make it. Like tonight.

“Pass the salt, please” Nancy asks Robin. You all went out to have dinner together. Not all actually, Jonathan was too busy as well, him you did miss.

“It’s like we’re having a girl’s night!” you say excitedly and both girls laugh as well.

“No, you’re not about to count me in as a girl” He complains.

“Oh please, you have better hair than me!” Robin comments and he rolls his eyes.

“I’m just teasing, jeez! Someone has their panties in a twist!” you joke.

“Are you on your period or something?” Nancy joins in sarcastically.

“Alright, not even funny” Steve interrupts. “Let's focus. I think we should keep planning the trip, even though we’re not all here tonight”

“Don’t even mention it. I miss Jonathan so much, he’s been so busy lately. I think he really needs a break” Nancy complains and Robin agrees with her.

“I know, it’s really noticeable when Eddie’s not here either”

“Oh yeah, he’s the one I miss. His irritating voice and loud comments. His annoying essence it’s what’s missing here!” you joke but they don’t find it funny.

“We’ve been through this, you’re gonna have to learn to like each other”

“Sure sure, so… the trip?” you change the topic acting foolish.

“Yeah, I liked the hiking option. We always go to the lake every summer, we should change it up” Nancy votes. You’ve never went to any lake with them since this is the first year you’re joining them. But they had told some stories about this hidden lake they usually go to in summer.

“I think so too, plus we should do something different since we have a new integrant” Steve comments smiling at you. Robin and you also agree to go with that option.

The guys make sure of telling the rest everything you have agreed on that night. You’ve settled on where to go hiking and the cabin that would be waiting for you at night.

A few weeks later you're all set to go.

The trip to get there was...

Steve and Jonathan took turns driving. "You must be a really shitty driver if no one here trusts you behind the wheel" you notice and tell Eddie.

"I'm not a bad driver, princess. Maybe we could go for a drive sometime and you could judge for yourself! We'll call it a date" Eddie teases you the way he knows will shut you up, it always worked. As soon as he started flirting with you, it was like you got shy all of the sudden. Replying with some nonsense that would make Eddie laugh harder because he knew he had won.

"I'd rather get eaten by a shark" you respond ignoring the nervousness that ran through your body.

"Alright, we still have a few hours ahead of us, and I'm not gonna make them with you two bickering the whole way there. So calm down" Steve —or actually, mom Steve— told you off.

Once you got to the cabin, you parked the car, settled everything down, ate something and got ready for today's hiking exercise.

Eddie was never a big fan of sports, so he knew that after an hour or so of hiking —no matter how slow they were walking or how much water he was drinking— he would just start to stay a little behind. Not a lot, but definitely the last on the row.

Also, he started to get bored. Eddie was chatting with Jonathan, but he started to take pictures of every little plant or flower he saw, and the higher you got, the more pictures of the view he wanted to take.

So Eddie started to walk in silence, taking notice of other little things, like the fact that you and Steve look pretty close and pretty giggly with each other since you started hiking. But not only that, obviously, it's not like he's jealous or anything. For him to be jealous he would have to like you in the first place, and there was no way Eddie wants you.

You're the obvious person to like; everyone in Hawkins is already smitten with you. Every guy has a crush on you because you're undeniably beautiful. He knew from the first moment he saw you that you'd never go for a guy like him. So, to keep himself from showing any sign that he wanted you, he did the opposite —he started to hate you.

So he is definitely not jealous. He was only noticing that like he noticed the colourful rocks that he walked by, or the clouds in the sky, or the way those shorts hug your body so nicely.

But he keeps hearing your laughter every ten seconds. Was Steve really being that funny, or you were acting all giggly for him? Did you like Steve? It certainly seems like you do.

You, however, were having so much fun. In the middle of a funny story Steve was telling you about some guy who tried to flirt with Robin at work and the look on her face not knowing how to tell him she didn’t like him —or well, any men for that matter.

The forest path was rugged, but you welcomed the challenge at first, feeling the cool morning air on your skin. However, after a while, your legs began to protest, your breath came in shorter gasps. It was hard to keep up with Steve. Swimmer and football player Steve. So you had to slow down a little, now walking alongside Eddie.

“What’s the matter, princess? Can’t keep up?” he teases with a mocking tone.

“You literally got behind sooner than me” you answer, shaking your head. “If anyone’s slow here, it’s you”

“But it looks like we're both walking together now, so who's really winning?” Eddie chuckles, unfazed by your sharp reply as his eyes twinkle with amusement.

You decide to ignore him. How foolish of you to think that he would accept that silence.

“So what’s the deal between you and Steve? You looked pretty cozy back there. You’re not very subtle, you know”

“There’s no deal with Steve, we were just talking” you roll your eyes, irritation flaring up.

"Right, just talking" he says, his tone dripping with scepticism. "You’re so obvious, it's almost painful to watch"

“Why don’t you stop jumping to conclusions and mind your own business” 

“Ohh, is the princess mad at me now? I’m so scared!” he grins, clearly pleased with himself.

“You’re impossible” you say almost to yourself.

You kept walking for a few more hours, taking occasional breaks to catch your breath and sip some water. The trail seemed endless, but the beauty of the forest made it worth the effort.

As you trudged along, you noticed the sky darkening. Grey clouds, rolling in with alarming speed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves more aggressively.

A man in uniform hurrying down the trail called you out. "Hey, you guys need to find shelter! A big storm is coming in fast. There's no way you'll make it back down in time"

Panic start to appear in all of your eyes.

“Wait? Seriously?” Nancy asks.

“Yes! There’s a motel that’s a few minutes away, to your left” the guy informs you. “I don’t know how much room they have left, cause I’ve been sending some people there already. But you should go now”

Finally after quickening your pace, you spot the outline of a motel nestled among the trees. You hurry towards it. As you approach, you see the motel was old but resistant.

You reach the door and push it open, stumbling inside just as the storm unleashed its full fury. Inside, it was dim and musty, but at least it was dry.

“Hello, uh, we need room for six, please” Nancy is the first one to get to the register and talk to the old woman who was reading a newspaper as if she hadn’t heard you coming in.

“$70 the night” she answers without even looking up at you.

“Uhh… okay, we’ll take it” Nancy says and as you all reach for you wallets, the woman gives you three keys.

“There’s only three rooms left, two with queen beds and one with two separate single beds” she speaks again, as slowly as she can apparently.

“SEPARATE BED” Robin shouts fast.

“ME TOO” Steve is quickly to join her on calling dibs for that room. Not wanting to share a bed.

“Wait! No!” you complain. “Why would you get it just cause you screamed?”

“We called dibs, sorry sweetie” Robin explains.

“But that’s not fair, we should have discussed it!” Eddie joins in.

“Too late” Steve says handing the money to the woman and taking the key of their room.

“Come on guys, maybe they have a couch” Jonathan tries to make you feel better as he also pays and picks a key to their room.

“Are you actually making us share a bed?!” you ask them offended.

“Maybe it’ll help you become friends!” Robin tells you.

After paying and grabbing that stupid key, you all go to your rooms. As you walk in you notice that, in fact, there is no couch.

“Fuck” Eddie complains once again. “I’ll take the floor, let’s just find some blankets that I can sleep on”

And you turn that room upside down trying to find some. But the only blanket in the room is the –only– one on the bed.

“There’s nothing here!” you sit on the bed admitting defeat. “We’re both gonna have to sleep on the bed. I’m gonna freeze without a blanket and you can’t sleep on the bare floor, you’d freeze too”

“If you wanted to sleep with me, you could’ve just said so” Eddie jokes.

“Not now, Munson! Really not in the mood!”

After each getting ready for bed, you start building a wall of pillows in the middle. Separating his part of the bed from yours.

“I bet you wouldn’t make Steve have a wall of pillows” he mumbles, but you’re able to hear him nonetheless.

“Did you not listen when I said not now?!”

“See, that’s the problem with you. You think you can just walk in here acting like you own the fucking place. Newsflash, princess, not everyone is going to fall at your feet following your little orders!” Eddie gets mad for real this time, but so are you.

“I’m so sorry for trying to make this less uncomfortable! Actually, if you want I’ll even cuddle you while we sleep!”

“Shut up” Eddie rolls his eyes.

“No really, we should even make out before sleeping while we’re at it! Maybe that’ll prove to you that I don’t fucking like Steve”

“Yeah, you wish” Eddie comments.

“Actually, I think you wish. Giving that you’re always trying to flirt with me when we argue and giving how jealous you seem to be about Steve” you notice.

“I’m not fucking jealous. And you’re the one suggesting to fucking make out!”

“See, I think you do want to. You’re just too much of a pussy to even admit it” you whisper close to his face.

“Oh my God, princess!” Eddie starts laughing arrogantly. “You wouldn’t even be able to handle me”

“Oh yeah, you’re right! I could not handle your two centimetres because I would be too busy laughing my ass off at your angry half inch” you respond at his face.

But he doesn’t say anything back. He just looks at you. His jaw clenching, eyes darkening, breath heaving.

Before you can react, he closes the distance in one swift, aggressive movement. Gripping your arms tightly, he kissed you fiercely and angrily, his lips bruising against yours, as if trying to channel all the pent-up emotions into that kiss.

To say that you're shocked would be an understatement. But you did kiss him back. How could you not? With all the ardor and sentiment that he was putting into that kiss?

That fucking kiss.

After he felt your lips moving along with his in a dance, he let all the anger go. The kiss became passionate and intense instead of angry. Like you were finally letting go. Stopped overthinking and finally giving in.

You didn't need to talk. You didn't want to. Instead, you put one hand on his haw and the other on his hair, feeling it in between your fingers, bringing him even closer.

He sighs, holding a grunt as he feels you play with his hair. His hands move lower to your hips, feeling the upper part of your body in the process.

A fight for dominance is held up between you two. He bites your lip harshly, and you let out a little gasp that allows him to win. He's playing dirty. You're not surprised.

He starts to push you down slowly, so you're lying on the bed with him on top of you.

Your hands travel lower as well as you feel his back. You wonder if he has any tattoos there as well.

He dares to leave your lips alone as he lowers his kisses to your jaw and then your neck. He kisses and bites and licks all over your neck. You can bet that he is leaving marks as purple as a grape.

It turns you both on even more.

Eddie feels like he's flying. He's even touching the clouds. Marking you all up is only an image that haunts him in his fantasies. Like when he can't sleep, or is in the shower, or after fighting with you all evening and you're looking so beautiful and you're being such a brat. That's when he imagines leaving you all bruised out. But he's actually doing it right now, and he's going feral.

You start to feel like you're too dressed. His hands go under your shirt, and he starts to pull it up. You pull your arms up as well so he can take it off. His kisses keep traveling lower on your body. Your chest, your shoulders, the top of your breasts. He stops there. Making out with one of your nipples over the lace of your bra while pinching the other. You start moaning, your hips move searching friction on your core, and he lowers his hips so you can start dry humping him.

You feel his smirk against your sensitive skin as well as his hard on against your centre. Mocking your desperation. You're not surprised.

He moves up, meeting face to face once again. "So desperate for me, aren't you princess?" he whispers so closely to you face you can feel his lips moving and his evil smile too.

He watches you breath hard and your legs trying to close searching for that friction in between once more.

"Ask me nicely and I'll take care of you" he proposes and you roll your eyes.

You can't. You won't.

"Beg for it, princess" he tries again. "Let me hear you"

You shake your head. You're playing difficult, but Eddie likes a challenge.

"No? You're not gonna beg for me? Alright princess, you know what I'm gonna do?" he pauses to think. "I'm gonna make you cum so fast on my tongue you'll be embarrassed, and then you'll know how much of a desperate slut you can be for me"

You want to laugh and tell him off, but you are so intrigued by his confidence at the same time. You settle for a defiant look thrown at him, he catches it and smirks again. Something tells you you'll be seeing that smirk quite a lot tonight.

He unhooks your bra and throws it somewhere in the room, he squeezes your tits and caresses your nipples making a mental note to keep playing with them later. His hands travel down to your pants which are the next item being thrown away inside the room.

He takes a second to admire the view of you only on those white panties and he feels his cock jump. He proceeds to take your underwear off too, but this item is put inside his back pocket.

He puts your legs over his shoulders and lowers to be closer to your pussy. He bites his lip admiring how fucking pretty and perfect it looks. He wastes no more time and dives in.

He licks it and kisses it and sucks on it drunk on your taste. He fucking makes out with your clit and has you meowing and arching back like a damn cat.

His hands grab your thighs so hard he's probably leaving marks there too. He sighs and hums and laughs against your pussy hearing your pretty moans.

He looks up at you as you look down at him and you both feel like you could just cum at the sight alone. Your cheeks blushed, eyes watery, hair a mess, lips swollen and little moans are still coming out of them. He looks up at you while still sucking on your clit so fucking good. His eyes are covered by his bangs so you reach to move them to the side. His puppy eyes look straight at you, his hair is also a mess, and his hands are gripping you with so much force his skin as well as yours becomes whiter. And his rings feel cold and addictive against you.

You try to fight your orgasm but looking at him makes it impossible. It hits all throughout your body so good that you cry out his name as you pull on his hair.

As you catch your breath, he sits up and washes all your wetness off his face with the back of his hand, all that with a big smirk on so proud of himself.

"Still doubting me?"

You grunt, annoyed, and bring him closer. You pull his shirt over his head and take a second to admire his bare chest and arms covered in tattoos. You unbutton and unzip his pants. He's just watching you act so desperate for him to undress, enjoying every second of it like the cocky motherfucker he can be.

"Need help?" he whispers on your ear, and you nod with a pout. He stands up and takes his pants of slowly.

"These too?" he asks, signalling his boxers. You nod as you feel even hotter paying attention to the big tent he has on them.

He puts them down too, standing up proudly as you look at his big cock. "Half inch you said?" he teases you, and you look up at him as if telling him to shut the fuck up.

You sit up facing his dick. You grab it gently as you keep looking at it. How is it so... pretty? How the fuck does Eddie manages to be pretty everywhere. Even what you thought could not be pretty. He manages to make it look beautiful.

A mischievous thought crosses your mind. And you start leaving some kisses on the tip. Even a lick here and there.

He gasps unexpectedly. You put the tip in your mouth, moving your tongue around it. He lets out a little moan. You look up at him, he's already looking at you. And you proceed to slowly put all of it in your mouth while maintaining eye contact. His tip touches your throat, and you have to fight a gag. You still have a full fist grabbing the rest that didn't fit your mouth. He moans again at your little show. You close your eyes and start moving your head up and down. Eddie moans louder this time, and hands stop your movements.

"As much as I enjoy this, princess, and I really fucking am" he lets you know. "I want to cum once I'm inside of your perfect little pussy, can I?"

You take him out of your mouth with a 'pop' at the end and look at him defiantly once again. "Beg for it" you challenge him feeling proud of yourself.

He laughs. "Are you seriously telling me to beg for it while you're still practically on your knees for me?"

You won't let him win this one, so you lay back again resting on your elbows. "Beg for it"

He takes a big breath in ogling over all of your body on display for him and only him. He'll let you win this one because his dick is throbbing at the sight before him.

His hands travel up your legs and your hips to your waist. "Please, princess" he says once his face is closer to yours.

"Please, let me fuck you so good" he starts humping his dick against your pussy which makes you both gasp.

"Please, please, please" he kisses your cheek to sugar-coat you.

"Eddieee" you move your pelvis up and down against him. "Do it, put it in"

And he wastes no time to do so. Pushing his tip inside and you both gasp. He bites his lip and thrusts to enter you completely.

"Oh, fuck" your head is thrown back and you lay back down. He feels so big and so fucking good in you.

"Mhh, fuck princess" he lowers his body to be chest to chest with you. "You feel so good baby, so tight around me"

You have to bite your tongue to stop you from moaning his name, you can't keep inflating his ego.

"Don't get all quiet now. You're always talking and the one time I wanna hear you..." he teases you.

"Earn it" you manage to get out. It's ironic how your lips are almost bleeding from how hard you're biting on them to stop you from moaning as hard as you want to, but you still tell him to fuck you better.

Eddie knows what you're doing, but he likes playing with you too. So he accepts the challenge.

He gets up on his knees against the bed and takes your legs to pull you closer to him. You instantly wrap them around his hips. He wraps a hand around your throat and he looks like he's about to say something, but instead, he enters you again. A moan escapes from your mouth instantly, and you see his big smirk back.

He starts a hard and fast pace with his thrusts as you hear his sighs against your ear. You can't help the whines and moans that escape you now. Your hands go to his back scratching him, and pulling at his hair, but it only makes him moan harder.

He lowers his head to your breasts once again and keeps kissing them as he fucks you. You arch back again, because you can feel him everywhere. And he feels so so good.

He feels you clench around his dick and he thinks he could just cum right now. So he starts playing with your clit with his fingers.

"Eddiee... 'm so closee" you whine pulling him somehow even closer.

"Yeah? You are?" you nod desperately. "Beg for it" he whispers and smirks right after saying it.

You roll your eyes but it doesn't take much to convince you this time.

"Please, Eddie," he was about to tell you that you can do better, but beat him to it. "Please baby, you feel so good inside of me, so big. Eddie, please"

Eddie has to stop himself from cuming -which he almost does. "Cum for me, baby"

And you do. Your orgasm hits even harder than the first one. You gasp and whine without even thinking about it.

Few seconds after that, Eddie can't take it anymore. He feels you clench even harder while you cum and it becomes too much. So he lets go too while moaning your name against your skin.

You take a few seconds to catch your breaths when you feel Eddie pull out —and after admiring how his cum drips out of your pussy— he gets up, puts on his boxers and goes to the bathroom, only to come back with a wet towel to clean you up. To say he surprised you again was an understatement. Who would have thought he would be so careful?

After you go to the bathroom as well —with wobbly legs Eddie smirks about— and change into some comfy clothes, you both lay down. No wall pillow this time. And are quick to fall asleep after all the exercise you did today.

The next morning wasn’t so sweet. Loud knocking on your bedroom’s door accompanied a loud Robin telling you to get up already.  

Waking up all curled up with him was bound to happen. But if someone would have told you yesterday morning that today you would be waking up with Eddie Munson spooning you, you would have laughed at their face.

But here you are, and to be honest, it had been a while since you slept so peacefully.

You feel him groaning against the skin of your shoulder, holding you tighter.

You slowly opened your eyes to accustom to the light.

“Did you end up killing each other last night?! Answer me!” Robin shouts again from the other side of the door.

“Certainly feels like it” Eddie murmurs and laughs at his own joke.

“We’re awake! Calm down!” you let her know.

“We have to leave so then we can breakfast, so hurry up!” she lets you know.

You get up and start tiding up. Eddie is slower, he sits on the bed barely opening one eye to look at you and smiles. “Good morning, princess”

You look at him and a little smirk escapes from your lips. “Hey” you greet him shyly.

You both start changing to get down and tidy everything down. After you both brush your teeth, you go to pick up your backpack but he stops you to pull you in close to him.

“Good morning” he says again with his face close to yours while he pulls a strand of your hair behind your ear. Then he proceeds to kiss you, sweetly this time. Which warms your heart. You kiss him back playing with his hair once again.

“Hi, Munson” you say sweetly against his lips.

“You look beautiful in the morning” he admits but before you can even react, the knocking on your door is back.

“Okay! Okay! We’re coming!” Eddie stops them. “Jesus”

After getting down, you were waiting for them to explain where you would be having breakfast but as soon as they see you they start looking at you funny.

“What?” Eddie asks being as confused as you but they all start laughing.

“What is going on?” you ask again.

“Are we just gonna pretend like nothing happened?” Jonathan asks now.

“Yeah, were you gonna act like you still hate each other today?” Steve teases.

And you understand all the laughter. You and Eddie look at each other surprised and apparently this is also very funny because they start laughing again.

“Oh fuuuck” Jonathan starts mocking the way Eddie sounded last night also acting like moaning your name.

“Oh Eddie, so close!” Steve joins him acting like you.

Your face is as red as a tomato right now and you feel like you could just die, it would be better than taking whatever this is. You hide your face in Eddie’s shoulder after he just rolls his eyes fighting another smirk.

He laughs at you, put stills hugs you.

“You wanted us to like each other…” He defends you two.

“Yeah, apparently you took that very literal” Robin teases after catching her breath.

[standfucker]

Rotation

Characters: Kid, Killer, Heat, Wire

Reader: cis fem

Word Count: 24k

CW: explicit NSF.W content, recreation drug use, aphrodisiac, gangbang, oral (giving and receiving), double penetration, triple penetration, anal, voyeurism

Summary: After finally opening up to the crew, a recent personal victory has you all sailing to your home island to celebrate. However, you accidentally smoke the wrong strain, one thing leads to another, and you become the next object in the rotation.

Ao3 Link

Mesiba Island was famous far and wide for being a party island. Casinos, clubs, bars, brothels, even a natural hot spring–there was something for everyone. Liquor flowed like water, and drug laws were the laxest in all of the Grand Line. As your homeplace, you were used to the chaos and violence. Crimes of passion were commonplace, and death was regular news. 

Still, somehow you never expected it to happen to you.

A visiting pirate killed a close friend of yours, and by the time you’d heard about it, he’d fled the island. You were able to find out two vital things: He was heading further into the Grand Line, and he had a crew.

You were going to kill him. Of that, you were certain. But you also knew you couldn’t do it on your own. So, only hours after you’d learned of your friend’s death, you’d looked over the pirate crews that had currently docked on the island and approached the strongest one there.

“I want to join your crew.” You spoke firmly, standing tall, trying to show how serious you were.

“Oh?” Eustass “Captain” Kid looked down his nose at you. “Why should I let you?”

You gritted your teeth. “I want to kill someone who’s traversing the Grand Line. He’s got a crew. So I need to travel with one, too. And it needs to be a crew who’s not afraid to get dirty. The meaner the better.”

Kid wasn’t impressed. “And what makes you think you can handle sailing with us, pipsqueak?”

“I’m strong.”

“You’re puny,” Kid scoffed. He did have over a foot of height on you, but it didn’t scare you. Size difference was rarely an issue for you in fights. “And you use knives,” he continued, gaze falling to the rows of short blades strapped to your hips, “meaning you have to get in close range to your opponent, where you’ll get torn apart.”

“If they can keep up,” you argued. What you lacked in brute force, you well made up for in speed. “I can fight, Kid.”

The man cast a shadow as he leaned over you, narrowed eyes taking in your determined expression, assessing something–you didn’t know what. Then he smirked and stood up straight.

“Tell you what,” Kid jerked his thumb over his shoulder, toward a man in blue who was almost as big as he was. A blue and white mask entirely concealed his face, thick blond hair spilling behind it that reached the back of his knees. Large hands curled around heavy metal gauntlets that were attached to wicked-looking scythes, currently folded back out of the way.

“If you can survive three minutes with Killer, I’ll let you join,” Kid said, looking smug. Like he thought you would be intimidated.

“Masquerade Rapunzel over there?” You glanced at the masked man. He was built a little leaner than Kid, but still impressive. Nothing you couldn’t handle, though. And if you couldn’t do this much, then how could you avenge your friend? You raised your chin confidently. “Bet.”

Killer ended up surprising you with his speed, but you were more agile. As a bigger target, he had to block your strikes while you needed to dodge his. The swings of those scythes packed a lot of force behind them, it was too risky to attempt to block. You were certain it would only take a single, direct hit to mortally injure you. But you were very good with your knives, and you were efficient above all else: your knowledge of anatomy taught you the best points to aim for on the human body.

Three minutes later, you’d stabbed Killer right below the chest. He almost decapitated you afterward, though, suddenly moving far more quickly than before. You jerked back at the last moment, and his blade tore you open to the bone, from your clavicle to your shoulder. Now second-guessing your chances of survival, you nonetheless prepared to strike back–and Kid called time. You and Killer were both hurting, but you were alive.

You expected them to be angry, but neither Kid nor Killer seemed bothered about either of the frankly concerning injuries. Moreover, Kid was impressed enough by the fight to honor his word. Their ship’s doctor patched you both up, and that night, you became the newest member of the Kid Pirates.

You didn’t open up for months.

You didn’t talk, much less hold conversations, and you mostly kept to yourself. Part of it was the fresh grief of losing your friend. Part of it was difficulty adjusting to the new lifestyle, having never sailed before. But mostly, you figured there was no point–after you got your revenge, you’d be parting ways with the Kid Pirates. It stayed in the back of your mind the entire time: This is temporary.

“Hey, Y/n, watcha doin’?” House paused by where you sat against the mast, your weapons laid out on your lap.

“Sharpening my knives,” you responded without looking at her.

“Didn’t you do that yesterday?”

“I like knowing they’re sharp.”

House glanced to the side, fiddling with her fingers. “...Oookay. I’ll leave you to it, I guess…”

And so it went. But months slipped by and turned to years, and living and fighting with the same people for that long had an effect that even your stubborn self couldn’t resist. It was in the way Wire dropped his coat onto you when you were shivering from an unexpected cold front, the garment gigantic and more like a blanket in comparison to you. It was in the way Killer found out your favorite food and served it for dinner after catching you crying one afternoon in the crow’s nest. It was in the way the girls in the crew drew you into their group (“us pirate girls gotta stick together!”) and let you jam with them on your off hours. Slowly, like a flower growing after the last winter, you opened up to the others’ warmth.

And heaven help them when you did, because once you got comfortable, you stopped censoring yourself. As you became friendly with the crew and got past your grief, your original personality started to shine through, and whatever thought came to mind was fair game. You started talking to the crew like you did to your friends back home–which, for Mesiba Island natives, typically meant being crass and lewd. You couldn’t help it, it was just in your nature. Maybe your original friend group took it too far, though.

Case in point: Heat looked over your shoulder at a letter you were writing one day, and commented on your (admittedly awful) handwriting.

“Can your friends back home even read what you send them, or do you all write like that?”

You replied without thinking. “Don’t bully me, Heat, I’ll cum.” 

Heat’s entire body flinched like he was hit, and he blushed all the way down to his neck, contrasting brilliantly with his tattoos. Completely disarmed, he opened his mouth to reply, but couldn’t find the words.

Oops, that might have been a bit much for him. For all that his appearance might suggest, Heat was one of the most reserved members of the crew. You just returned to your letter, adding the exchange to the list of things you were writing about. You’d leave out how cute the blush looked on Heat, though, saving that thought for yourself to enjoy privately.

Then there was the time Kid was having drunken arm wrestling matches with some of the guys. You slid into the seat across from him and propped your elbow on the table, equally inebriated and mostly joking–his arm was three times as thick as yours, after all.

Kid shot you a lazy smirk. “Don’t even bother. You’ll just be a disappointment.”

“You sound like my father,” you joked. “Careful there, Captain. I might develop a complex.”

Brow raising, he grabbed your outstretched hand, dwarfing it in his. “Sounds like you already have one.”

“It is what it is.” Your gaze dropped to his arm, to the flexing of the thick muscle rippling underneath the skin, a little too intoxicated to catch yourself checking him out. Kid didn’t miss it, looking smug.

He squeezed your hand, the strength behind his grip setting butterflies free in your stomach. “Give it your best shot, then, pipsqueak.”

You pushed with all your might, straining and struggling, even leaning your body weight into his arm like you weren’t supposed to. You barely made any headway, Kid’s arm only moving back a little bit. He just watched you through half-lidded eyes, unbothered, a small smirk showing his amusement at your feeble attempt.

Maybe it was just the alcohol warming your blood, but the struggle seemed to affect you a little more than it should have. You could have chalked up the pounding of your heart to the physical exertion of the attempt, and not the stark power difference so obviously displayed between you and Kid, but it would have been a lie. The way your gaze kept ending up on his massive arms was proof enough of that.

“Hmph.” Kid waited another minute, then slowly and easily pushed your hand down until it pressed into the table. He did not let go. “Weak.”

“Bleh,” you stuck out your tongue, even though you had fully expected the result. “Well, you don’t need a lot of force behind your attacks if your knives are sharp.” You patted the knives at your hip and smirked. “Flesh parts easily for the sturdy blade.”

Kid’s grip on your hand tightened a little, and you went rigid at the way his voice dipped low. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Y/n?”

“Intimately so,” you shot back, feeling your cheeks getting warm, the sensation of his hand over yours suddenly overwhelming. Unused to feeling shy, you quickly covered it up with banter. “While I also enjoy holding your hand, Captain, I’ll be needing mine back.”

Kid’s eyes widened before he let go, drawing his arm back a bit too fast. Got him.

You stood, deciding tactfully not to point out his reaction, instead offering him a sheepish grin. “Thanks for indulging me, anyway. G’night, Captain.”

Maybe you had imagined the faint dusting of red on his cheeks, but as you walked away, you were determined not to think about it. Teasing was fine with you, so long as it stayed strictly verbal–you had no business getting close in that sort of way with anyone, no matter how drawn you felt to them. There were a few people in the crew that you liked being around a little more than you should have. It probably wasn’t a coincidence that they were the only ones who could kick your ass, your brain immediately going to unsavory places whenever they bested you while sparring.

Technically it made sense, given that they were the strongest four: Kid, Killer, Wire, and Heat. You ranked fifth in terms of combat ability (though other crewmates had seniority over you due to experience,) earned one day after a long, exhausting match with Gig. You had barely come out on top, literally, by perching on his back and strangling him with his own necklace. You were certain you could at least handle Heat after that, but when you later challenged the fire-breather, it only took a short while before he had you pinned to the floor with a hand wrapped around your neck, your knives knocked out of reach.

Heat opened his mouth, curls of smoke rising out in threat, and you tapped out, trying not to think about the feel of his fingers around your throat.

“Okay, okay, you win,” you sighed in defeat. “Hurry up and let go before you awaken something in me.”

Heat pulled away quickly, blushing, though it could have also been from exertion. It looked good on him either way, even combined with the annoyed look he gave you. 

“You don’t even need to fight your opponents. You could just run that colorful mouth of yours, and they would run away,” he grumbled, offering you a hand.

You took it, and Heat pulled you easily to your feet. He must have still felt flustered, though, because he pulled a little too hard, making you stumble into him. He caught you, steadying you by the arms, and when your gazes met, you both froze, realizing how close you were.

Heat’s eyes flickered back and forth across your face, his blush deepening when he glanced at your lips. Suddenly the pounding of your heart had nothing to do with exercise. Caught off guard and anxious, you played it off the only way you knew how. “You gotta at least buy me dinner before talking about my mouth, sir.” 

Really, you weren’t trying to make it worse. You just couldn’t help yourself, always talking too much whenever you got nervous. The words only served to thicken the tension, the feeling of his hands on your arms exceedingly hot all of a sudden. His entire body seemed to give off heat, more so than usual, and your stupid mouth kept going, revealing every stray thought in your brain. “Oh, wow, you’re really warm. You’d make an excellent bedmate on a cold night.”

“I…” Heat found himself at a loss for words. He let go of your arms but otherwise remained frozen, and you wondered if he was picturing the same thing you were–the two of you curled up together, bodies pressed close, lazily breathing in each other’s scent. Maybe your hands would start to wander…

“Sorry. Forget I said anything.” You looked away, unable to harbor the thought while also meeting his eye, nervously rubbing your arm where he had been touching you. “Um, good fight, yeah? Maybe I’ll pin you next time. That would be an exciting change.”

Again with unintentionally making things worse. The sight of Heat’s Adam's apple bobbing with his swallow finally spurred you to leave, not wanting to twist yourself up in unnecessary desire any further if you could help it.

You were, to be honest, caught off guard by your attraction. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise–you knew what you liked, and they all fit the bill in their own way–but you had joined the crew during a grieving period. At the time, and for a long while after, you had felt nothing toward the crew, much less interest. The feelings snuck up on you as you came out of your shell, and they were getting increasingly harder to ignore.

The Victoria Punk anchored in a secluded cove one hot day, and most of the crew opted to go for a swim. You kicked off your shoes carelessly in your eagerness to join, each one landing on a different spot on the pile the crew left behind. Killer went to retrieve them, going to line them up neatly with the rest–one of his odd, compulsive habits–and the rare sound of his huff of suppressed laughter made you pause, his deep voice speaking up a second later. 

“What the hell is this?”

You turned around to see him holding up one of your shoes. Killer had bulked up significantly in the time since you’d set sail with the Kid Pirates, and the sight of the comparatively small item in the palm of his hand was, to be fair, a little ridiculous.

“My shoes?” You narrowed your eyes, having a feeling you knew where this was going and not caring for it at all.

“No way your feet are this small.” His head turned to you, mask tilting down, and you knew he was looking at your feet. You felt a strong urge to cover them, which was dumb–why should you feel shy about your feet, of all things? But Killer had inadvertently found something you were self-conscious about.

“Whatever! Stop looking, you weirdo.”

Killer was usually hard to read, even after knowing him that long. But right then, you couldn’t help but feel like he was enjoying getting a rise out of you, because he continued. “These are shoes for ants.”

“Shut up, Killer!!” You snapped, face flushing warm. “They are proportionate to my height, thank you very much! F–” You stopped yourself before a ‘fuck off’ slipped out, mindful of your rank. He wouldn’t appreciate the disrespect.

Killer noticed, though, as astute as ever. “What was that?”

From the tone of his voice, you could tell he was only messing with you, not actually upset. That only made it worse, though, your chest getting tight in response.

“Nothing! You didn’t hear anything.” You crossed your arms in a subconscious attempt to cover yourself, feeling exposed even though your swimsuit wasn’t revealing.

Another brief huff was audible from under his mask, and then Killer set down your shoe and approached you. He didn’t stop until he was fairly close, only a few inches separating your bodies, and you resisted the urge to step back, heart thumping in your chest as you looked up at him.

Killer rested a hand flat on top of your head, like he was measuring your height. You barely reached the top of his chest. In fact, you were at the perfect height to shove your face between his giant pecs, a thought that your brain took off with at an alarming speed before you could hope to suppress it. 

You made a face at him, trying very hard to look annoyed rather than affected.

“I suppose it makes sense,” Killer hummed, “given you’re so tiny.”

“I am not! I’m not even the shortest one on the crew!” you protested. “Of course everything would seem small to you! You’re stupidly huge.”

“Stupidly huge?” Killer repeated, that edge of amusement never leaving his voice.

“Yes,” you grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand off your head, and paused at the sight of it. It was as big as Kid’s. Without thinking, you raised your other hand to press against his, comparing the size directly. “S-See? Look at these–these flippers of yours.”

Killer huffed again. You wondered why he never laughed outright, but it still made your heart pick up speed. Your hand looked like a child’s compared to his, each of his fingers an inch longer and far thicker–do NOT think about that right now, you thought sternly, desperate to keep your imagination under control. You could not ignore how the rough skin of his palm was pleasantly warm, though, nor how he curled his fingers over yours, calloused fingertips covering your nails.

There was a heat on your skin now that had nothing to do with the weather. You were quite literally in the process of losing your cool, which naturally meant running your mouth further. “I can’t believe the oven mitts in the galley even fit you,” you jabbed, drawing your hand away. “Were they custom-made?”

“You sound jealous,” Killer retorted, lowering his hand. “I think you just hate being short.”

You looked him up and down, and–heaven help you–before you could stop yourself, your gaze settled between his legs as you audibly stated, “Not always.”

Killer went quiet. You went quiet. The silence hung between you awkwardly, while you felt like your brain was coming to a rapid boil.

It was suddenly far too hot.

You opened your mouth. Closed it. And then turned, bolting straight for the port side of the ship and flinging yourself into the ocean, nearly taking out a crewmate because you didn’t look first.

Even with Killer’s face perpetually concealed, you couldn’t look at him for a week straight after that.

Your filter never really returned, which wasn’t usually a problem for you. The Kid Pirates were as crass a crew as any. You didn’t care about being suggestive, normally finding it funny more than anything else–but when it happened around those four, you would get uncharacteristically flustered, and attempting to hide it often led you to digging the hole deeper. Alcohol only made it worse, and there was enough of it going around each night to keep leading you to compromise your plans of keeping your distance.

When a party on the deck threatened to overstimulate you, you retreated to the crow’s nest, ascending carefully to minimize the loss of rum from your mug. Some still spilled out, but by the time you made it inside, you were pretty satisfied with your achievement, especially considering your current inebriation.

Unfortunately, the crow’s nest was already occupied. Fortunately, it was only Wire–one of the more preferable people to run into at the moment, considering his laid-back attitude and soft-spoken manner. He was bent over slightly where he sat in order to fit into the small room, his head grazing the ceiling, the horns of his hood folded down cutely.

“Ey, Wire,” you greeted. “How’s it going?”

“Good.” Wire looked at the mug in your hand and chuckled. “You know, climbing the mast drunk, while clinging to your booze, and not falling off–that, more than anything, really brands you as a pirate.”

“Who says I’m drunk?” You crossed the room, only swaying a little bit, and plopped onto the bench next to Wire. 

Wire paused. “Actually, you always speak so freely that I can never tell. Most of the time, anyway.”

“Hm. Probably not a good thing,” you mused.

“Is it? I kind of envy the way you so openly speak your mind.”

“Don’t. It’s a curse.” You grinned despite yourself. “But, for the record, I’m good and sloshed right now.”

“As am I,” Wire said, lifting up his own mug from where it rested on his other side. It was proportionate to him, the size of your head, large enough to hold over a gallon of liquid. “What brings you up here?”

“I could ask the same, what with you drinking alone.” You nudged his leg with your foot. “Things were getting a bit loud, so I needed a break, that’s all.”

“But you jam with the girls all the time?” Wire asked.

“Music noise and crowd noise are different,” you explained. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”

“Fair enough.”

“I usually don’t mind a little overstimulation,” you said thoughtfully, completely oblivious both to what you implied and to the way Wire subtly leaned toward you in interest, “but it’s worse when I’m drunk or high, so.”

Wire peered into your mug to gauge its contents, an easy task from his vantage point. “Are you that drunk?”

“Triple basted, as my friends back home would say,” you swirled the rum in your mug idly, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m a Mesiban native, after all. Chaos is in our blood. We call ourselves ‘Messy’ for good reason.’”

Wire reflected your wry smile. “Do you miss them?”

“Of course! I think about them all the time.” You paused, smile fading as your fingers tapped on your mug. “When my friend was killed… I probably should have stayed home and grieved together with all of the rest. Have their support and support them in turn. And not, you know, impulsively join a pirate crew and wallow alone in misery for months.” 

Wire watched you stare into your mug for a moment, and then your smile returned full force as you looked up at him.

“But that’s okay!” you said cheerfully, “I would have never met all of you otherwise, so things worked out just fine in the end. I really feel like–and don’t laugh–I really feel like every person on this crew’s my friend, too.”

Wire’s smile widened. You certainly had come a long way over the last few years. He held his mug out to you. “To good friends.”

“Old and new,” you added, knocking your mug against his.

“Aye.” 

The thunk of the wooden mugs hitting each other was satisfying, and the deep drink you both took was even more so. You drained the rest of your drink in one go, then chucked the empty mug across the room.

“Ah, that’s good stuff. I feel fucking great,” you sighed, “now I just need a great fucking.”

Wire nearly choked on his drink, managing to get it down safely before he laughed. “Yeah?”

“Mm. Perfect way to wrap up the night. Drunk sex isn’t as good as high sex, but it’s better than no sex. Words of wisdom!” You waved a hand nonchalantly as your words slurred. “But I’m used to not getting any. Haven’t fucked anyone since I became a pirate. At this point, I’d be satisfied with the simple pleasures of a comfy blanket.”

Wire took in that information slowly, realizing that, for all your lewd dialogue, he had never actually seen you go hunting for flings when they were docked. He perked up at your last sentence. “Oh, are you cold?”

“Yeah.” Despite the alcohol in your system, you tended to run cold, and now that you had settled, you could feel the light chill in the air even from within the crow’s nest.

Wire wordlessly held open the side of his cloak, offering to share in his warmth.

Ordinarily, you would have hesitated, double-checking with him if it was okay. With your current blood-alcohol content level, however, there was no shame nor shyness to be had. You scooted over until you were sitting right up next to him, thighs touching, and he closed the cloak around you, enveloping you in the comfort of both his warmth and his scent.

“Better?” He asked.

“Much,” you leaned against him. “Thanks.”

His arm around your shoulders was solid and soothing, and you felt yourself melt into his body heat. He had a lot of it to go around, given his size. Your drunken thoughts began to charge away from you now that you were snuggled close to his body. As the tallest member of the Kid Pirates, he made even the biggest guys on the ship look tiny, much less yourself. Wire absolutely towered over you, easily twice your height. When you were both standing, you were at eye level with his crotch. You could have sucked him off while standing, a thought that occurred regularly, even after all this time. You never got used to it. But, god, would it even fit in your mouth? Was he proportionate? What if–

“You’re staring,” Wire noted, though he didn’t sound bothered.

You realized you had been staring at his crotch for a solid minute now. However, once again, all traces of shame had been replaced by booze.

“Women get objectified all the time. Now you know what it feels like,” you joked. “I’m evening the playing field.”

You could feel the rumble of Wire’s chuckle through his torso.

“Also, I bet it looks nice,” you continued. “I bet you got a job-hunting dick.”

Wire paused. “Job-hunting?” 

You pulled your gaze away from his crotch to meet his eye, a mischievous spark in yours. “Yeah. You know… Because you fill someone out, like an application.”

Wire laughed, accidentally hitting his head against the ceiling with how he threw his head back. He winced, still giggling, rubbing the top of his head while you apologized.

“Don’t apologize. I like that. ‘Like an application…’ Is that something your friends back home say?”

“Actually, House said it,” you grinned at his look of surprise, “and it’s stowed away in my head ever since.”

As Wire finished his drink, he wondered if he knew less about his crewmates than he previously thought. Setting the mug down on his other side, he looked down to see that you were watching him, focused on his eyes this time. 

“Have you really been celibate this whole time?” he asked.

“Yeah. I don’t like hooking up with strangers.” You shifted, settling further into him. “It was easier back on Mesiba. Had a small network of fuckbuddies, and people could vouch for their acquaintances. Mesibans have a reputation for promiscuity for good reason, but we took care of each other.”

“Sounds like a good time.”

“It wasn’t perfect, but I had my needs met,” you shrugged. “There are downsides to a culture like that, though. I lost my virginity earlier than I probably should have. And I might be a little too used to going out of my comfort zone in bed. But it’s fine, no big deal. Most of the memories are good ones.”

Wire hummed, but didn’t respond. His gaze shifted upwards in thought, and didn’t come back down until you nudged him again.

“What about you?” You asked. “I mean, a guy like you? Mr. Tall, dark and handsome? I bet you were rolling in bitches on your home island.”

“Rolling in ‘em?” Wire smirked to himself, and you wondered if he was also thinking about past dalliances. “I guess I’ve had my fair share of encounters. Enough so to consider myself experienced.”

This time, you went quiet in thought, and the silence that stretched between you was relaxed and cozy. Despite the myriad of unholy scenarios now running through your head, you still could have fallen asleep right there, wrapped in his coat and cuddled up close. A minute later, his deep voice broke through, something you could feel as much as hear with your head resting on his torso.

“You think I’m handsome?”

The question had an immediate effect on your body, your stomach doing a funny little flip while your heart picked up speed. It skipped a beat entirely when you peered up at him and saw the way he was looking at you now, eyes somehow both dark and burning.

Would you have lied if you were sober? You weren’t sure. You were never the shy type–until those damned four–but you were trying not to get too close. Alas, you were currently as drunk as a fish swimming in a lake of booze, and could be nothing but honest. 

“Yeah, I do,” you admitted.

Wire glanced away for a moment, smiling. “What a coincidence.”

“Hm?” You relaxed somewhat when his eyes left you, only to tense up when they met yours again.

“I think you’re cute.”

The heat that flushed through your body could have been blamed on the alcohol, but the force with which your heart was suddenly hammering against your ribs could not. You were almost afraid that he’d be able to feel it. Not that it mattered–you were sure your face was an open book. His thigh, as big as your entire torso, pressed lightly against yours. For a second, you didn’t know what to say. Then you returned his smile, though yours wasn’t nearly as confident.

“That’s a relief. I get self-conscious sometimes.” You looked away, now shy even in spite of the alcohol–he just had that effect on you. “Hopefully I’ll remember that in the morning.”

With one massive finger under your chin, Wire gently turned your head to look back up at him.

Your breath caught in your throat. Wire leaned over you, filling your vision, probably not intending to block out the rest of the room, but unable to help it with his size. It meant you could see nothing but him now. Smell nothing but him, with his cloak wrapped around you. He bent further, getting closer, and you vaguely wondered if it hurt his back given the distance between the two of you, but if it did, he didn’t complain. He just kept getting closer.

“Really cute,” Wire murmured, his face now inches away.

You could barely hear him over the sound of blood roaring in your ears. Wire’s other arm was still slung around your shoulders, and he rubbed your arm slowly, leaving goosebumps. His finger never left your chin as he closed the distance.

Wire’s lips pressed against yours softly. Your entire body seemed to ignite, every cell alight and buzzing all at once. His lips were as warm as the rest of him, but what struck you was how gentle he was, kissing you so delicately it made you dizzy. Overwhelmed, your eyelids fluttered shut, and when you felt him start to pull away, you followed. Now certain you wanted it, Wire found your lips again.

Your hands came up to hold his face, just in case he was thinking of pulling away again, your thumbs tracing the markings on his cheeks. Wire sighed into your mouth, and the tiniest moan escaped yours. He hadn’t even used his tongue, but you were suddenly aware of the growing wetness between your legs–something that never happened to you from just a dry kiss.

The realization was sobering, a voice screaming in the back of your head now: Stop! You’re too close! This is all temporary, remember?!

You broke away from the kiss, eyes opening to see that Wire had never closed his. Had he watched you the whole time? There was a slight panic in your mind now, along with two certainties now made clear: 1. It was too late to deny it–you had feelings for your superiors, and 2. If you stayed there, you were absolutely going to fuck him.

That was a line you couldn’t let yourself cross. It was in the interest of protecting yourself: Getting too close only to have to leave would have hurt, simple as that. But, god, the way he was looking at you now, with a slight sense of awe and pupils blown wide. He wanted you, maybe as badly as you wanted him.

Before you made a decision you’d regret, you stood up, taking a step back. Now away from the cover of his cloak and the warmth of his body, the coolness of the air only contributed to the prickle of goosebumps on your skin. Your hand came to touch your lips, still tingling with the sensation of his.

“Um,” you said dumbly, then tried again, “Wire... Thanks for the chat. I have to, uh. Go to the bathroom...”

It was with the willpower of a thousand Buddhist monks that you forced yourself to leave, not looking back, afraid to see his expression.

You could only pray that he had drunk enough that he would forget about it the next morning. You certainly didn’t, the memory of the kiss fresh in your mind when you next opened your eyes. But Wire never brought it up again, nor did he treat you any differently, leading you to think that he must have. You tried to ignore the disappointment that arose–it was for the best, you told yourself.

You put more effort into staying emotionally distant after that, but it was difficult. Staying in an enclosed space for weeks at a time meant there was no avoiding those four. And aside from them, there was no doubt that the rest of the crew considered you a friend as much as you did them. Vicious battles with other pirate crews or Marines, perilous weather, long hours of work–nothing was able to drag down your mood for long, because at the end of the day, you had fun. It was just fun to sail with them, simple as that. 

You were enjoying yourself enough that you almost forgot about your revenge, your reason for joining Kid the first place, until the day came when it stared you in the face. You heard from the natives of the island you had docked at about the other crews currently there, and the name spoken of that pirate, your friend’s killer, was like ice on your skin and in your heart. Finally, after all those years, you would have your opportunity.

You found him. Both crews were there, but this was personal–you wanted to face him one-on-one. He agreed, the cocky look on his face a familiar indicator that he was underestimating you. That was fine. It would only make things easier. You didn’t need an epic battle, you just needed him to die.

With your trusty knives sharp and ready, and your heart crying out for blood, you fought him. You were far stronger and faster than you had been when you first left your home island, a result of the frequent training with the Kid Pirates. The pirate was strong, but not nearly strong enough. When it became obvious he was going to lose, he cowardly called out for his crew. For a moment, seeing the swarm of pirates rush to his aid, you thought you would die there. Then, to your surprise, the Kid Pirates surged forth to intercept them, letting you finish your fight without interruptions.

You slayed the man who killed your friend. Those of his crew that were still standing, now demotivated at the sight of their dead captain, made a hasty retreat. And as you stood there, panting, blood dripping from your knives, you realized that the mission was finally complete. You no longer needed the Kid Pirates. It was over.

Kid approached you. And you? You cried like a bitch, tears streaming down your cheeks at the thought of finally saying goodbye. It was the first time you’d ever cried in front of them like that, and it was not a pretty cry, either.

Kid leaned over you, like he did when you first met. But this time, he was wearing his unique look of annoyed concern. “You got what you wanted after all this time,” he said gruffly. “Why the hell are you crying?��

“I… I…” You fought to keep your voice steady. “I don’t want to leave! I want to keep sailing with you and the crew. I really,” you sniffed, “really enjoyed spending time with everyone!”

“Then stay, you big fucking crybaby.”

You wiped your face on your sleeve and peered up at him. “...I can stay?”

“Did you think you were getting kicked off?” Kid scowled. “You’ll always have a place onboard the Victoria Punk.”

That only made it worse, a fresh wave of tears pouring out, and you couldn’t find the words to respond, only a pathetic sob.

“So quit blubbering and pull yourself together, alright? This is embarrassing,” Kid said. “You’re a Kid Pirate, aren’t you? Act like it.”

Warmth spread through your chest, light and bubbly, a sense of camaraderie so strong it was almost euphoric. You smiled through the tears, the cry turning into a laugh of pure joy.

“Yeah,” you said, standing up straighter, “I am a Kid Pirate.”

The crew threw a party that night in celebration of your achievement. Seeing the reverie, them all having fun for your sake, made you emotional, and when they toasted to you, you cried again, earning their teasing. It didn’t bother you one bit. This was your life and these were your people now, and you wouldn’t change it for anything. You asked Hip, a former tattoo artist, for a certain tattoo later, once you were all sober, and she eagerly agreed.

As soon as the following day, you bore new ink. Situated in the middle of your upper back, right between your shoulder blades, was the Kid Pirates’ secondary jolly roger: Four inches across, a perfect circle of glittering black ink with a row of spikes, and a skull in the center. It wasn’t visible when you were dressed, as you liked to be able to blend in with the general population, but you couldn’t help smiling like an idiot whenever you looked at it in the mirror. Kid made it obvious that you had been one of them since the beginning, but this made it feel official.

The energy on the ship seemed different after that, but it might have been your imagination. You felt closer to everyone than ever before, after all. Maybe it was the symbol you now carried on your back. Maybe it was the memory of the whole crew rushing in to fight for you. Or maybe it was the fact that there was no more reason to keep your distance from those four, a thought that reared up with increasing frequency nowadays. Still, you kept it in your pants, so to speak, mostly because you were afraid of what you would do if you crossed that line. You weren’t sure if you wanted them to find out just how far your craving went, not wanting to appear desperate.

After circling the first half of the Grand Line, Kid decided a break was in order, and so the Victoria Punk headed for your home island to kick back. You were excited, naturally, eager to show the crew the very best Mesiba Island had to offer, local digs and spots that weren’t as well-known to outsiders. You were also planning something else, something you didn’t get to partake in much since you left home.

“I’ve been in contact with one of my buddies. I’m gonna hook up the whole crew,” you told Kid.

“What makes you think I’d smoke your hometown’s mid-tier garbage?” Kid griped.

You weren’t phased in the slightest, well-used to his attitude. “Oh Captain, dearest Captain. You have no idea what you’re in for,” you smirked. “My friend’s a Devil Fruit user! Some ability affecting plants, I don’t know the specifics. Produces nothing but gold, though.”

“Bullshit,” Kid said. “I bet he says that to drive up business.”

“She actually keeps that part quiet, to avoid trouble. But we’re close. So don’t tell anyone I told you that, okay?” You patted his shoulder.

Kid glared at your hand, but you didn’t move it until he replied. “Fine. I’ll judge it for myself, then.”

“We haven't gotten to smoke in a while,” you withdrew your hand, “same with most of the crew. If you’re not careful…”

“I know what I can handle, pipsqueak. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sure, of course. Whatever you say.”

Kid turned his glare to you, but you were already leaving, needing to write another letter to your dealer friend to get the goods prepared.

The first two days on Mesiba Island were less eventful, you taking the time to visit friends and family while the crew relaxed. On the third day, you had met up with your Devil Fruit-using buddy, and, as promised, returned with copious amounts of the highest-quality weed for everyone to enjoy. The crew stayed at one of your friend’s taverns, and you pulled aside Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire.

“Listen. There wasn’t enough of this particular strain for everyone, but I wanted to share it. Don’t tell the others, okay?”

You had gotten a nice deal on rooms from your friend, and the crew had splintered into various groups to partake in the drugs. It didn’t take much convincing for the four to join you in a separate room, curious about the special strain. You pushed the bed to the side and dragged out extra chairs, arranging them in a circle.

Almost everything had been set up ahead of time. Bottles of water and snacks lined the small table in the middle of the room, along with a rolling tray, an ashtray, and all the papers and tips you could possibly need. You put on gloves before grinding up the bud, chatting while you worked.

“It’s okay to smoke in here?” Heat asked.

“Remember what island you’re on,” you said, sprinkling the herb on the blunt wrap you were currently working with. “Not only is it okay, but we’re going to hotbox the room.”

Kid eyed the row of perfectly rolled blunts that you had already finished preparing. “You were a regular stoner, huh?”

“Have you considered that maybe I’m just good with my hands?” You glanced at him while licking the blunt wrap, which might have been a mistake, because he stared in a way that made your heart skip. You folded the blunt wrap closed. “But, yeah, I used to smoke all the time.”

“What’s so special about this strain?” Wire asked.

“It’s my favorite! Best of the best out of what my friend grows,” you smiled proudly as you dried the blunt with your lighter. “A well-balanced hybrid with a good flavor. Really nice, lofty high without knocking you out too much to enjoy it. Not that the crew got anything mid! This stuff is just even better, but she only grows it in small batches. I bet it’ll even chill you out, Kid.”

Kid shot you a look that you ignored while Wire nodded, saying, “I see. What’s it called?”

“Magenta Mountain.” You set the finished blunt at the end of the row to finish drying. The first ones were ready by now.

You plopped into your chair, lit the first blunt, and made sure it was burning evenly before taking a small hit to start with, to adjust to the feeling of smoking again. It didn’t take long, the hot smoke in your throat and lungs pleasant rather than irritating, and your second hit was deeper. You exhaled slowly, watching the milky smoke curl and expand, then coughed a few times before passing the blunt to your right, where Killer sat. Next to him was Kid, then Heat, and completing the circle, on your left, was Wire.

You expected Killer to lift his mask an inch, like you’d seen him do occasionally for certain foods. Instead, he stuck the blunt in one of the lower holes of his mask to take the hit, and when he exhaled, smoke came out of all the holes in the mask.

“Once the blunt’s gone around a few times,” you said, “that’s gonna be hilarious.”

“It’s hilarious now,” Heat grinned.

“You’ll get over it,” Killer said, passing the blunt to Kid.

“Just don’t get mad if I laugh,” you said.

“I won’t.”

You debated lighting a second blunt and having two going around at once, but ultimately decided against it. There was no rush, as the rooms were rented out for the entire night. Conversation started to flow, interspersed with the occasional fit of coughs, and by the third time the blunt passed your hands, you were starting to feel its effects. The first thing you noticed was the warmth around your eyes, gradually spreading to the rest of your face, and then to your entire body.

“How’s my hometown treating everyone?” you asked, shrugging off your jacket and tossing it onto the bed behind you.

“No complaints here,” Heat said before taking a large hit off the blunt, and you watched with some fascination. Every hit he took was a huge one, and he never coughed once. It must have had something to do with his fire-breathing ability, being used to smoke.

“I liked the restaurant from yesterday,” Killer remarked.

“Oh, you mean Papa’s? I thought you would. Their pasta rules.” You paused, remembering something, then snickered.

“What?” Kid asked, his tone already far less harsh than usual.

“It’s fucking stupid,” you grinned, “but, growing up, my friends and I would call it ‘Daddy’s’ as a joke. Someone would order spaghetti and meatballs, and we’d immediately pile on about them having ‘daddy’s balls’ and whatnot.”

Kid must have been feeling it now, too, because instead of rolling his eyes like he usually would, he cracked a smile.

“Told you it was dumb.” You leaned back in your chair–no, you melted into it. There was a haze in the air now, thick smoke hanging around the room as you hotboxed it further and further. There was also a haze in your head. Different from the kind you would get from alcohol, this one made you feel light and floaty.

The weed was well established in your system now. There was a slight head rush at first that had since settled, leaving you with a gentle sort of drifting feeling. Your heart rate picked up slightly, even as your breathing slowed. A sense of calm settled over you, both in your head and in your body. Muscles loosening up, you relaxed further, everything seeming to move a little bit more slowly. Your senses seemed to heighten, particularly your sense of touch. You could feel the air itself wrapped around your skin, like you were underwater without the water. A faint, soothing pressure.

You didn’t feel the world around you. You experienced it.

Along with the physical sensitivity came an almost spiritual one. Not in the religious sense, or even in the out-of-body sense, but in the way you felt connected to your surroundings. The pressure of your feet against the floor was grounding, and when you closed your eyes, you felt like you were a part of the entire island. When the others talked, you felt connected with them too, like you were locking onto their energy. That closeness was one reason you loved smoking with friends, so it was nice to share it with them, but it wasn’t your favorite thing about being high.

The best thing, you thought, was the way your negativity seemed to dissolve. Fears and doubts subsided, making way for a simple appreciation of existence. It seemed more important to focus on enjoying things in life rather than lamenting the broken state of the world.

You looked around the room and took in the state of your companions. Everyone except Killer had settled back into their chairs, the latter instead leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. But you could tell that even Killer was unwinding. Your gaze slid over to look at Heat, and when the two of you made eye contact, his eyes widened.

“Your eyes are really red,” Heat said.

“Everyone’s eyes are red, my guy,” you replied, then glanced at Killer. “Well, Killer’s might not be. We’ll never know.”

You and Heat giggled.

“And I’ll never tell,” Killer said solemnly.

That got everyone laughing, you covering your mouth until the fit calmed.

“When I first joined the crew,” you nodded at Killer, “I was dying to know what you looked like under the mask, but I’m over it now.”

“No, you’re not,” Wire accused.

You were a bit taken aback that he read you so easily. “No, I’m not,” you agreed.

Kid waved his right hand vaguely. “You’re not missing out on anything. He’s an ugly motherfucker.”

You gawked at Kid in shock, but Killer burst out laughing, the first time you’d ever heard him do so, head hanging down and shoulders shaking. It was a weird but adorable laugh, and you calmed down–it seemed that sort of thing was fine if it was coming from Kid.

“No way,” you said, relaxing once more. “I bet he’s cute.”

Alcohol made you honest due to a lack of judgment. Weed made you honest because you didn’t care otherwise. You knew what you were saying and it was okay because the world was good, and your friends liked you and all that mattered was being in the moment.

“You sound so certain,” Killer said once he caught his breath, a playful lilt to his tone lingering from his laugh.

“I can feel it in my gut,” you said assuredly.

“I could have a facial scar.”

“Kid has a facial scar, and he’s cute.”

Kid looked at you in surprise, and where you would normally smile back with your high confidence, you now deftly avoided eye contact as you were rapidly becoming aware of a new effect of the weed on your body.

Sometimes weed had the effect of raising your libido, and Magenta Mountain had occasionally done so in the past. Maybe it was the increased circulation, you didn’t know. You had considered that it might happen, but it was never enough to be distracting, so you hadn’t been worried. The rest of the effects of the weed were so nice, it was well worth the discomfort of possibly being a bit aroused in the presence of others, you had figured.

But you were not a ‘bit’ aroused. You were burning up, slowly but surely, tingling and hypersensitive all over until there was a growing dampness between your legs. And the others around you were all men you had a raging, years-long crush on. Beneath the carefree optimism of the high was the dawning sense that something was off.

“This shit is amazing. What did you call this strain?” Heat asked, plucking the weed container from the table to look at the label.

“Magenta Mountain.”

“Huh…” His squinty eyes narrowed further. “This says something else.”

“What?”

Heat tossed the container to you. You fumbled it in your intoxication, bouncing it between your hands until it clattered to the floor. The others laughed, and you did too as you reached down to pick it up. Your laughter died as you read the label.

‘Red Sky At Night.’

A weight settled heavily in your stomach as you realized what’s been happening: your friend gave you the wrong strain. Not only that, but you were very, very familiar with what you–and the others–had been smoking all this time.

‘R-SAN,’ as you and your friend had dubbed it, was specifically designed to increase arousal, focusing on blood flow and sensitivity far more than other strains. You knew this because you were the one your friend used as a lab rat when developing it. The information sank in slowly as it dawned on you–you’d unintentionally given you and your superiors a mild aphrodisiac. And you, as the one it was tested on, would be affected by it the most heavily.

“Y/n?”

Your head snapped up. The others were looking at you with some concern.

“You good, or did we just smoke the wrong weed?”

“We’re good!” You replied a little too quickly, voice a little too high-pitched. “She gave me the wrong strain, but it’s fine. I mean, I feel fine. Do you feel fine?”

Heat and Killer shrugged, Kid grunted an affirmative, and Wire nodded.

“I will admit,” Kid said, “whatever this is, it’s some pretty good shit.”

You lifted your chin. “T-Told you so. My friend grows good herb.”

The others lounged in their seats quietly, soaking in the high. Meanwhile, you wanted to scream. The current blunt in rotation was the third one of the night, and you had already smoked too much to be able to come down anytime soon. Not to mention there were four more blunts left that the others would likely want to go through. That meant a lot of time stuck in your worked-up state. If you rejected any more, would it be suspicious? Especially after you went to the trouble to set all this up? You weren’t sure how much more you could tolerate. Already, you wanted to run off and touch yourself until you had sated the blazing urge inside you.

It was imperative, for the sake of your sanity, that you did not let your imagination run away with you.

You tried to think about tame things, and not how you could feel your pulse between your legs, or how wet you were already, or how attractive the men you were sharing space with were. At the least, it was easy to be introspective when high, so you were able to force your thoughts into the sentimental, rather than the physical. You thought about the warmth of your friends–not that kind of warmth, damn it–but how the way they treated you changed since you first met them. Yes, focus on that. Focus on the beginnings, how initially standoffish everyone was. You considered the time when you first met the crew. There had been something odd about your battle with the First Mate…

“Killer,” you said, “remember when we first met? How we fought?” You pulled the neckline of your shirt to the side, exposing your shoulder to show the scar that ran from there to your clavicle. At 6 inches long, it was your biggest scar, but you didn’t hold it against him. Focused on Killer, you missed the gazes of the other three settling on your bare skin.

“Yeah,” Killer replied.

“You were going easy on me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. Until you stabbed me.”

That was what you had suspected. The sudden increase in his speed during the fight didn’t make sense otherwise. You tried not to sound smug. “Why is that? Why didn’t you try to kill me, Killer?”

“I almost took your head off,” Killer said plainly.

“No, I’m talking about before I stabbed you. You held back,” you pressed.

Killer paused. “...You want the truth?”

“Yes?” You sat forward, intrigued.

“When you approached us years ago,” Killer interlaced his fingers and rested his chin on them, “your eyes were all swollen like you’d been crying for hours. I assumed it was over the friend you wanted revenge for–I realized you came straight to us not long after you’d found out. That kind of determination, that kind of love for a friend, it’s something I value in an ally. That’s why I hesitated.” 

“Oh,” you said softly, unexpectedly touched. That was honestly very sweet, so much so that it was making you self-conscious, so you added a playful, “guess that all went out the window after my knife slotted between your ribs, eh?”

“Mostly,” Killer said. “I was kind of into it, though.”

Your eyes widened, and you grinned nervously. “Shut the hell up. No you were not.”

Wire chuckled, a deep sound that practically gave you goosebumps in your current state. “Well, knives are sexy, and Killer has a ridiculously high pain tolerance, so I can see it.”

No matter what you did, it seemed that the conversation kept circling back to indecent places. You mentally floundered for a moment before quickly spouting, “Too bad for you guys. Killer got soft, and now you’re stuck with me.”

Killer’s head snapped to you at the accusation, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the weight of his glare. You met it (kind of) in challenge. Despite the slight sense of warning you were getting, you continued to run your mouth.

“You could have killed me if you really tried, you know–back then, you completely outclassed me.”

“I still completely outclass you,” Killer stated.

Your look of indignant shock sent the other three into a laughing fit, and your face burned in embarrassment. Even high, you still had your pride as a fighter, which was now thoroughly bruised. “Excuse me?” you fumed. “I’m way stronger than I was years ago! I can fucking take you!”

Killer stood up suddenly, the warning in your head becoming a full-on alarm when he stalked over to you. You scrambled to your feet, but the weed slowed your reaction speed, and before you could do anything about it, Killer grabbed you.

Maneuvering you as easily as a child would a doll, Killer pulled you toward him so your back was against his chest, snaked one beefy arm under yours and around the back of your neck, and locked you into a half-Nelson, all in the span of a second. Then he stood up straight, and you were brought off your feet. With your head being pushed down, you couldn’t gain any leverage, kicking and struggling to no avail. He was a solid wall of muscle, and with only one arm, he had you completely helpless. After another fruitless minute, you gave up, going slack in defeat.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” you mumbled, making the other three laugh again.

Point now proven, Killer set you on the ground. It took everything in you to keep your legs from shaking. Arm wrestling with Kid that one time had been bad enough. Being locked against Killer, totally unable to fight back? Feeling the firmness of his torso against your back, the power in his arm? You weren’t just wet anymore–you were completely soaked. You only prayed it wouldn’t get bad enough to show through your pants.

Sinking into your seat, you tuned out the others for a minute, all comments fading into the background. You tried to focus on breathing slowly, to ease the frantic pounding of your heart, to ignore the aching need between your legs. Zoning out was impossible with the raging sensitivity of your body, but you could at least ground yourself enough to make it through the evening. After this session, you would duck into a private room and take care of yourself. Just hold out that much longer, you thought.

They must have moved on from ribbing you by the time you focused once more. You hadn’t heard any of it, though you were sure they had. At least, Kid would have. Now he was talking about something else, finishing a story you had entirely missed.

“It was a pain in the ass,” Kid paused to take a hit, exhaling before he continued, “but right now? I don’t give a shit anymore.”

Hearing that, it was hard not to feel smug. That was the exact reason you had brought weed for everyone (and why you were in your current predicament.) All for the opportunity for your friends to relax.

“See, I knew it’d mellow you out, Kid,” you said, coming off a little too pleased with yourself and making him glower.

“You didn’t know shit. Mind your tongue,” he said, though the effect of his words was ruined by how tranquil he sounded. “You aren’t getting any free passes because of this.”

You hid a grin. He may have said that, but you knew him better. One of Kid’s better traits was to pay back what he was given, good or bad. You knew for a fact that he would go easier on you for a while for having set everyone up for the night.

“You don’t scare me, Kid. I know you care. Mr. You-will-always-have-a-place-onboard-the-Victoria-Punk.”

“Shut the hell up, Y/n,” he said with no real venom, although you did not miss the faint tinting of red on his cheeks. “Don’t make me put your valuables on the top shelf.”

“Go ahead,” you shrugged. “Wire will get it for me.” You turned your gaze onto Wire, batting your eyelashes cartoonishly. “Won’t you, Wire?”

It looked ridiculous coming from you, and had the desired effect of making him giggle, his face lighting up in a way that tugged at your heart. He smiled down at you fondly. “Sure.”

“Are you whipped?” Kid grumbled. “Don’t tell me you two fucked.”

“We did not,” you interjected before anyone made a dumb comment. Unfortunately, you thought to yourself.

“You did kiss me, though,” Wire said casually.

Oh–so he hadn’t forgotten. The man had no idea what kind of bomb that was to drop on you now, of all times.

“Wire!” you shouted. “That’s–”

“What?!” The other three yelled in unison.

“–not how it happened! You kissed me!” You tried to shout, but no one was listening because the other three, even Killer, had rounded on Wire for some reason.

“You kissed her?”

“I thought we had a deal, you scumbag!”

“When the hell was this?”

“Wait, hold on!” you cried. “What did you say?!”

They were not listening.

“With tongue?”

“You’re a fucking traitor, Wire.”

“Here I thought you were the one with self-control.”

“Will you morons shut the fuck up!” you roared.

They finally went quiet, all staring owlishly at you now.

“Did you–did you say you had a deal? What the fuck does that mean?” You said hotly, glaring at each of them in turn, awaiting an explanation.

Kid gave nothing away, but Wire was blushing, Heat looked guilty, and who knew what Killer was thinking.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/n,” Kid said lightly, waving it off like it was nothing.

“I’m supposed to pretend like I didn’t hear that?” You were feeling distinctly less chill now, trying not to get swept up by the implications. There was no way. They couldn’t be…

“You’re better off not knowing,” Kid proclaimed. “You couldn’t handle it.”

That kind of pissed you off. He didn’t know what your life was like before you joined his crew, nor all that you had gone through to make it as far as you did. What you had to endure. Even what you were currently enduring. 

You licked your lips, thoughts slipping into the red again. “You have no idea what I can handle, Captain.”

Kid was stunned for a moment, not responding right away, and you could audibly hear the slow breath he sucked in. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

You swallowed and looked away quickly, heart pounding a dent inside your chest. “F-Fine. Whatever. Keep it to yourself. Like I care.”

Kid kept watching you, but you didn’t notice, your eyes fixed on the ground now as your imagination spiraled, thoughts racing a mile a minute. What the fuck had they been talking about? There was no way. No possible way they were all interested. Wire, maybe. He had kissed you, though he had also been drunk, so there was no guarantee he was even attracted. But all of them? All four? It couldn’t be. You had to be reading into it. Right? 

Right?

You pushed your feet into the ground, anxious for a sense of stability, trying and failing to tune the others out this time. Weed affected everyone a bit differently, but there were some constants. How much of what you were feeling was also being felt by them? If you felt a sense of connection, were they experiencing it as well? Could they sense your energy? 

Did they know? 

For a brief, terrifying moment, you had the paranoid thought that they could read your mind. Then you pushed it aside. It was impossible. All in your head. Just make it through tonight, and don’t think about it. Don't think about it.

But the universe was a cruel place, or maybe some god above was playing tricks on you. You were certain some higher being was laughing at your expense, because the conversation turned into a discussion of the mens’ past encounters. You could only sit there as Kid and Wire offhandedly commented on particular dalliances while the more reserved two opted to listen. They weren’t detailed, keeping things vague, but it didn’t matter. Your brain grabbed the barest descriptions and drew out a whole movie in your head, filling in the blanks and imagining the events in graphic detail. At first you pictured a random person as their partner, but then it immediately switched to putting yourself in their place, visualizing yourself getting dicked down by your crushes.

You dug your fingers into your thighs, trying to stay cool. It was a mental chess game to function at this point. You analyzed your every action with militaristic scrutiny, frantic not to give anything away, to not appear like the smoldering ball of lust you were. Was your posture too tense? Were you avoiding eye contact too much? Don’t act off. Don’t stay silent. Say something, join in the conversation.

“You guys don’t know how good you have it,” you said carefully, fighting to keep your tone neutral. “I can’t fuck strangers. I just can’t.”

Kid gave you a look of disbelief, which was fair, considering where you were from. “Wait. Have you really not had any since you joined us?”

“She hasn’t,” Wire answered for you, “she told me.” He shot you a devilish smirk. “Right before devouring my mouth.”

“Not how it happened!” You said brusquely, wanting to throttle him right then. “Shut up, Wire!”

“Why don’t you come over here and shut me up?” He challenged coolly, and the slight drop of his eyes when he looked at you told you he had glanced at your lips.

A fresh wave of heat flared under your skin, and you mentally cursed him. Why did he have to be like that? Why now? You scrambled to come up with a retort, but only managed a lame, “Like I could even reach…”

Wire simply bent over in response, hunching down until he was at your level, cheek resting on his fist and a mischievous sparkle in his eye.

Kid clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Knock it off.”

“What?” you snapped at him, not meaning to lash out but feeling like you were rapidly losing control–of the situation, of yourself, of everything. “Are you jealous or something? You want a kiss, too?”

“Oh, please, Y/n,” Kid said, unbothered. “If I wanted a kiss from you, I would have just taken it for myself by now.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the image his words conjured, and you gaped at him for a moment, for once in your life getting a taste of your own medicine as you were rendered speechless. Losing the mental battle of wills, you found yourself unable to maintain eye contact, giving away your timidity by looking away.

Kid studied your reaction, but by some grace, elected not to comment on it. Not that his choice of words was any better, because he asked, “You haven’t cum at all? For years?”

“Of course I have,” you huffed, “given the shared sleeping quarters, I have to take care of it in the shower like everyone else.”

“Is that why your showers take so long?” Heat stated more so than asked.

It was.

“No, it’s not!” you yelled, further revealing how flustered you were by the conversation. The others dissolved into laughter. Heat was grinning, pleased to see you on the receiving end for once. 

“Besides,” you muttered, “it only helps so much. Even with toys.”

“You have toys on the ship?” Kid asked, surprised for some reason.

“Half the crew does, Kid,” you said. “I bet you do, too, so don’t say stupid shit about it.”

Kid smirked, caught. “And it’s still not enough for you, huh?”

This had to be some kind of torture, because every time you thought you were in the clear, things continued to escalate. You would have fled the room if you could live it down, but alas, the others would never let you forget about it. Stuck in a mess of your own making, all you could do was continue the conversation.

“A toy can’t hold you or kiss you,” you said, ignoring the weight of their gazes. “Can’t talk you through it, can’t bite or suck on anything–oh, god damn it.” You dropped your head into your hands, fire billowing in your body as your thoughts surged into overdrive once again. Your fingers curled in your hair and you pulled lightly, seeking any sort of counter-stimulation to bring down the heat. “Ughhh.”

They all watched as you groused, lifting your head with a hopeless sigh. “Fuck, I need to get laid.”

“Dibs,” said all four of them at once. They all looked at each other in surprise, then burst out laughing, curling over themselves.

You experienced the unique sensation of being stunned silent while also wanting to scream, the burning of your flesh now that of embarrassment as well as need. Their laughs would actually be very nice if it wasn’t at your expense, and everything felt so crushingly unfair right then that you growled at them. “Really, guys? That was not an invitation.”

All bullshit, of course. You would have slept with any of them even without the influence of the weed. And now the pace of your heart kicked up, because they had confirmed what you had suspected, but couldn’t quite believe–they were interested. All of them. It wasn’t your imagination.

“Well then, Y/n,” Kid said, “consider this an invitation.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared at him. “What?”

“You heard me.” Kid took a hit off the blunt, then leaned forward and exhaled the smoke in your face, the rude action only riling you up worse. “You want a big dick to ride? All you gotta do is ask.”

The fire inside you blazed larger and hotter, and you were aware of your breath coming out shorter. You dropped your gaze to the floor, gritting your teeth. After everything–all the years getting to know them, all the suggestive conversations, all the times you had craved them–after all the longing you pretended wasn’t there–now Kid was laying it out on the table, a clear offer to sate your desires. You could have what you wanted. All you had to do was accept.

Every cell in your body yearned for it, and yet a part of you still resisted, the part that still wanted not to appear desperate. You fought not to stay composed, masking your nervousness with attitude. “Who’s got the big dick, though?”

Kid scowled. “Watch it, little girl.”

The words had an immediate reaction deep in your gut, because Kid had never called you that before. He looked you in the eye while he said it, too, and you knew you failed to hide the momentary panic in your eyes. You ripped your gaze away, hands balling into fists.

At that point, you were so worked up and so wet that you couldn’t move without feeling it. The lightest shift in your seat had your lower lips sliding against each other slickly, the hypersensitivity from the high meaning you felt it like sparks. Even the fabric of your bra against your nipples was overwhelming.

“Are you okay?” Heat asked, and you realized you were trembling.

“All good,” you bit out.

“You’re sweating,” Wire said.

“And you were worried about me overdoing it.” Kid tsk’d. “Handle your shit, Y/n.”

“It’s handled,” you insisted. “I’m fine.”

“You sure about that, princess?”

He knows! You thought in a panic. If Kid’s words didn’t make that obvious, the curl of his lip certainly did. Your thoughts descended into near-hysteria, like a beehive had been upended in your head. Through the chaos was also the bemoaning thought that he was such an asshole, messing with you like this.

“Poor little Y/n,” Kid continued, smirking. “So pent-up. So many years without getting fucked.”

“Kid…” You nearly whined, voice quivering as much as your body was.

Movement in your peripheral vision made you glance to the side, just in time to see Killer reaching out to touch your arm, the contact like pure electricity on your skin. You jerked your arm away and grabbed his wrist, fingers unable to wrap all the way around, tightening your grip in warning.

“Do not–do not fucking touch me right now. Don’t tease me,” you hissed.

“You’re a real idiot sometimes, you know that?” Kid griped. Your resulting glare was offset by how you bit your lip, and Kid rolled his eyes. “I know you want it. That you’ve been wanting it. And yet you always hold yourself back. You’ll say the nastiest things while looking us dead in the eye and then just disappear. I don’t know if it’s some sort of pride you’re clinging to, or if you’re secretly shy underneath it all. But for fuck’s sake, Y/n, it’s getting hard to watch. Why don’t you do yourself a favor and just indulge? Let yourself have something nice, for once.”

Your jaw dropped further and further as he spoke, gawking at how he mercilessly called you out. Then you shut your mouth, swallowed a lump in your throat, and dropped your head, covering your face.

“You want to get fucked tonight, don’t you?” You heard Kid say.

“...Yes,” you mumbled into your hands, but the room was so quiet now that you were sure everyone heard.

“Then get over yourself, pick a guy, and go to another room.”

He made it sound so simple. 

Maybe he was right. Why were you making it more complex than it needed to be? Why couldn’t you just let yourself have this? But even if you succumbed to your desires, there was another problem.

“But… But, um,” you stammered. “How could I possibly choose? I lov–I like all of you!...”

A humiliating slip-up, one you expected them to tease you about, but there was only silence. You braved a peek at them from between your fingers. All eyes were on you–the pointing of Killer’s mask in your direction left no doubt–and then the guys glanced at each other, exchanging looks you couldn’t quite decipher, but that made something curl in your stomach anyway.

“Maybe,” Kid said slowly, gauging your reaction, “you don’t have to.”

You felt something change in the room. Like the air got heavier, though it could have been the smoke–although the group’s pace had slowed, the blunts never stopped their rotation. You weren’t sure which one you were on anymore, only that there was something else drifting alongside the undulating smoke, something that tingled like the air before a storm.

You lowered your hands so you could look at Kid clearly, keeping your mouth covered. There was no playfulness in his expression, only an ardent luster to the black of his eyes, the gold of his irises constricted into a thin band.

“Kid?” You only said his name, but the full question was implied. Are you saying what I think you’re saying?

“I’m serious. You could strip down right here, and we’ll figure something out,” Kid said, “if you really think you can handle it, like you so claimed.”

The challenge went over your head. You were too distracted by how your fervent body roused at the notion, every aching cell screaming at you to accept, any opposing thought quickly drowned out by sheer, unbearable need. You had been gradually wound more and more taught throughout the night, and the last threads of resistance were beginning to snap. 

You lowered your hands, so your consent would be fully comprehensible, but you were cut off before you had the chance to respond.

“Wait,” Wire said, the concern in his tone grabbing everyone’s attention. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

The swell of disappointment within you threatened to be crushing. You couldn’t keep it out of your voice. “Oh… You don’t want to?”

“Of course I want to, dummy,” Wire said, “but, Y/n. You’ve never slept with any of us before. To jump into doing something intense like this? While we’re all under the influence? There are risks.”

“I really don’t care at the moment.”

Kid smirked at your eagerness, but Wire wasn’t amused. “Have you ever been with multiple partners?”

“I’ve been in a threesome!” you said quickly. “I can handle it, Wire!”

“Mm… I dunno,” Wire considered. Heat passed the blunt to him right then, and the pause in which you had to wait for him to take his hit was agonizing. Wire watched the smoke he exhaled rise before meeting your eye again. “There should at least be a discussion first. About limits and stuff.”

“Please, I can’t wait anymore!” Keeping your voice down was its own trial. You could have cried from frustration. “I fucked up, okay? I got the wrong strain, and it’s driving me insane. I’ve been practically edging on the spot, and you four are just sitting there, all relaxed and having fun and unfairly hot…” You resisted the urge to cover your face again, but couldn’t help avoiding eye contact while admitting it. It surprised you, then, to hear who spoke up next.

“We could start slow,” Heat suggested, a blush coloring his face, “one person at a time. Discuss anything else as we go.”

You glanced at Wire hopefully, and found that everyone else was doing the same. In the back of your mind, you vaguely wondered why the decision seemed to hinge on Wire rather than Kid, but you didn’t question it in the moment.

Wire passed you the blunt, the mere slide of his giant fingers past yours as he did enough to make you shiver. He watched your reaction, then assessed the other three in the circle, one at a time. By the time he looked back at you, you had taken your hit, and your eyes met as the smoke flowed from your parted lips.

“Tch,” Wire’s shoulders drooped slightly in defeat. “Alright. If you’re gonna look at me like that. But at least choose a safeword.”

“I don’t care,” you said.

“I do,” he snapped, the stern rebuke going straight between your legs, “pick something.”

“Fine...” It was a struggle to come up with anything with the prospect of having them so close by, and you raced to think of something. The reason for your current state flashed through your head. “Red Sky?”

“Works for me. Everyone hear that?” Wire questioned, waiting for verbal confirmation from the other three before he nodded his approval.

You passed the blunt to Killer, pressing your thighs together in anticipation. “Um… How are we going to do this?”

Kid’s smirk widened, as fiendish as you’d ever seen it. “I think we should pass her around like a blunt.”

Once more, you found yourself gaping at Kid, slack-jawed at the lecherous idea. It was depraved, it was objectifying, and you were, truth be told, not the least bit opposed–you would have had them any way they offered at that point. Anything to ease the fever.

“Y/n,” Killer said firmly, making you tense, “come here.”

He had said it like a command, tone no different than if he were giving orders on the ship. You responded instinctively, drawn to Killer like a magnet, feeling as if your body wasn’t yours to control anymore. His mask dipped as you stood before him, looking you up and down.

“Sit.” Killer patted his lap. “Facing them.”

You swallowed and turned, perching on Killer’s knee. He grabbed your hips, making you gasp, and dragged you back until your back touched his chest, situating you directly over his crotch.

Killer’s hands never left your hips, your skin buzzing where he made contact, even through your clothes. His chin rested on your shoulder, deep voice murmuring into your ear. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathed. The other three leaned forward in their seats, making you realize rather belatedly that everything that was about to happen would have an audience. You had never been watched before, and you didn’t know how you’d feel about it. But that thought, and any others, promptly flew out the window when Killer’s hands started their slow slide up your body, curving to the front and cupping your breasts.

You pressed yourself back against his chest, breaths coming out shaky. He was only squeezing and massaging gently, but after everything you had to endure so far, as roiled as you were, it was enough to send pleasant little shocks throughout your entire body.

Little shocks immediately turned into powerful bolts as Killer started teasing your nipples, your body jerking in response. You were sensitive enough there without the weed factoring in–as high as you currently were, it was overwhelming.

“Ah! K-Killer!” You pulled at his hands. “Please, slow down! I’m extra sensitive there, and the weed makes it ten times worse, so you gotta go slow…”

“You are, huh?” Killer hummed, flicking a nipple just to make you yelp.

“I thought you could handle this, Y/n,” Kid taunted.

“Whatever, Kid! You can watch, but I don’t need your lip,” your snarl didn’t sound nearly as threatening when it came between breathy pants. “Wait your turn and–nhh!”

Killer chose to resume touching you right then, rubbing your nipples at an appropriately slower pace. The tingling went straight to your cunt, and you threw your head back onto his shoulder, whimpering.

“Better?” Killer asked softly, and at your hasty nodding, you felt his chuckle against your back.

As incredible as it felt, it only made the need worse, the burning of your flesh intensifying under Killer’s touch. You writhed in his lap, desperate for stimulation between your legs, but you weren’t at the right angle to grind your clit against anything, and Killer was pressing your torso to his to keep you in place. Held against him and unable to escape, you could only take it, able to feel the calluses on his fingertips even through a shirt and bra. Killer let out a pleased growl at the sensation of you squirming over his growing bulge, the sound making you clench around nothing.

“Damn,” Wire muttered. “Look at her writhe.”

The other three were now sporting obvious erections, Wire and Kid idly palming at themselves while Heat elected to just watch.

“It’s the weed,” Kid responded, smirking. “I’ve been half hard ever since the first blunt, but I didn’t think much of it until she got all cagey about the strain.”

“The name is obvious enough,” Heat agreed.

So Kid had you figured out all along. Go figure. You weren’t paying much attention to that right then, though, not under Killer’s cruel assault.

“Please, Killer,” you whined, “stop teasing!”

“Gotta make sure you’re ready, first,” Killer said. “None of us are average, Y/n. I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“I’m ready!” You almost sobbed. “I–ah!–I promise, I’m wet!”

Killer paused, mask tipping down over your shoulder. “You don’t say.”

You followed his gaze (so to speak) to see a damp spot on your pants–you had soaked through both layers. “See? I told you, I’m ready!”

“Soon,” Killer assured, resuming his slow teasing of your chest.

Every time you thought you had adjusted enough to keep from making noise, Killer would switch it up, circling or skimming over the pert buds, drawing more whimpers out of you. He played you like an instrument, a steady chorus of your soft cries in time with his fingers, and the other three were as enraptured as if it was a song. All your nerves ablaze and still being denied what you needed, you looked to your audience for help. Kid and Wire weren’t moved by your plight, but as soon as you locked gazes with Heat, he rose to his feet as if you had called out to him.

Heat crossed the short distance and sank to his knees in front of you and Killer, resting his hands on your thighs.

“What happened to one person at a time?” Kid grumbled.

Heat ignored him, leaning in to kiss you but pausing before he made contact. “Can I–” he started to ask, but you grabbed his face and pulled him in the rest of the way, crushing your lips against his to really get across the kind of state you were in. Just to make sure he understood, you shoved your tongue past his lips. Heat’s small moan of surprise was muffled, but then he eagerly reciprocated.

Heat matched your pace, returning everything you gave him with equal passion, and you quivered in anticipation as his hands slid up your thighs. Instead of going between your legs, though, they went to the hem of your shirt, and as Heat moved to kiss your neck, you realized he hadn’t come to help anyone but himself.

“Heat?” you inquired.

“Lift your arms,” he instructed, ignoring your question.

“But–”

“Lift your arms.”

You clenched at the command, not expecting it from the normally laid-back man. He was still blushing, but there was an intensity in his tone that had you complying right away, though not without an irritated huff. Heat nipped at your neck as a reward for listening before he pulled your shirt off.

Killer’s mask touched the back of your neck like he was kissing it. “Kid’s gonna like that tattoo,” he whispered as he unfastened the clasp of your bra. You barely paid attention to the comment, helping him remove it and tossing it onto the nearby bed.

Heat stared, transfixed, at your breasts. When no one made a move to continue, you started to consider violence. “Heat…”

“You have cute tits,” Heat said.

“Whatever!” You were about to strangle him, and not in a sexy way. “Would you just hurry and–”

Heat cut you off by kissing your nipple, making you gasp, and when he took it into his mouth, your back arched into him. “H-Heat!”

Killer’s prior touches might as well have been through a heavy blanket. It didn’t compare to the wet warmth of Heat’s mouth directly on your sensitive bud, nor the velvety texture of his tongue running over it. You reached to bury your fingers in his hair, but then Killer grabbed your wrists and forced them behind your back. The ache between your legs magnified at the restraint, and you didn’t think it was physically possible to be any more worked up, but then Heat proved you wrong by starting to suck.

You twitched and writhed, pulling weakly against Killer’s iron-like grip, helpless under Heat’s assault. He switched from one nipple to the other, bringing his hand to play with whichever his mouth wasn’t currently on. It felt like live wires had been laid through your body, running straight to your cunt, making you want to cry with how empty you were. You clenched and flexed your pelvic floor muscles, desperate for sensation, and somehow, you felt something start to build, as steadily as if you had been playing with yourself. You had never come without touching your clit before, but now you understood how it was possible, your cunt so sensitive that clenching alone brought sufficient stimulation. But right when you thought you could see the peak, right when you were certain you could make it, the build stopped, leveling off and leaving you stuck. Even the scrape of Heat’s teeth against your nipple, though maddening, wasn’t enough to get you there.

“Please!” You cried out in frustration, on the verge of tears. “Please touch me, Heat, Killer, anybody! Please!”

“You’ve endured it for so long, haven’t you?” Killer said huskily, moving your wrists to one hand, resting the other on your hip and squeezing hard. “That’s okay. We’re gonna take care of you…”

You were about to snap at him that no one was taking care of shit, but your remark caught in your throat when Killer’s hand slipped under your pants and underwear, inching forward until he was finally, finally reaching where you needed it. His wide hand parted your thighs, going straight for your slit, the brush of him over your clit along the way making you buck.

“Wow,” Killer said as he felt the evidence of your need, everything between your skin and clothes down there a thick, slippery film. “I thought you were exaggerating about how riled up you were. But the weed’s really done a number on you, hasn’t it?”

There was no resistance when he penetrated you with a thick finger, and you bucked your hips again with a sharp cry. “Oh! Oh, fuck! Killer!”

“Never seen anyone this wet before,” Killer mused, stroking a few times before inserting a second finger. His thumb found your clit, rubbing in little circles.

Heat’s messy slurps combined with the squelches of Killer’s fingering only amplified the experience. After everything you had gone through, it didn’t take very long, especially with the two of them working together. Killer added a third finger and curled them insistently as he went, and you came hard a few seconds later.

You shut your eyes from the intensity, hips grinding furiously into Killer’s hand as you rode it out, whimpering with every wave that rocked your body. He never stopped probing his fingers against that spot, working you deftly through it until the fluttering of your walls finally stopped and you slumped against his chest, panting.

Heat kept on sucking on your nipple, the stimulation rapidly becoming overwhelming in the wake of your orgasm. “Heat–Heat, Heat!” With your head fuzzy with dopamine, you couldn’t form a better sentence, higher functions temporarily absent.

Luckily, Killer had been able to feel everything. He let go of your wrists to push Heat back by the shoulder, the pop of his lips disconnecting making you twitch. You twitched again when Killer pulled his fingers out.

The residual throbbing of your clit lasted longer than it ever had, aftershocks of an orgasm while high spreading through your body like lightning branching through your nerves. You didn’t open your eyes for a minute, chest heaving. When you did, the first thing you saw was Heat’s look of adoration. Behind him, Kid and Wire were burning holes through you with their gazes, both of them red-faced and awestruck. It dawned on you that you’ve cum in front of four guys. In front of your superiors. Your friends. And yet, instead of shame, instead of self-consciousness, the pulsing within you subsided and left behind a fervent hunger in its place.

Again. You needed it again.

Killer brought his hand to your mouth, fingers glistening with your slick. You parted your lips without hesitation, letting him in. The tang of your fluid on your tongue reawakened spent nerves, making you sensitive all over again. Killer let out a soft curse when you sucked, tongue sliding between his fingers to get every drop. Your eyes fell closed again, focused wholly on the act of cleaning up your own mess.

Killer peered down at your face and hummed. “Open your eyes. I want you to look at them.”

You obeyed, making eye contact with each of the other three while you sucked your slick off Killer’s fingers, fresh heat searing through your body at how they marveled at you. Kid had started stroking himself through his clothes with his flesh hand, his expression in particular full of dark intent.

“There’s a good girl,” Killer praised, “see what you do to them…”

You pulled Killer’s hand out of your mouth. “Killer,” you whined, grinding your ass against him in a clear signal to go further.

Cumming in Killer’s lap and sucking on his fingers had its effect on him, because he was harder than before, pressing stiffly into your ass cheek and breathing heavily by your ear. So it came as a shock when he raised his head and said, “Kid. You can go first.”

“Nah, Killer, you go ahead,” Kid said, waving his metal hand. “According to the sounds she just made, you earned it.”

“You go first. I know you’ve wanted this for a while,” Killer insisted.

“I don’t care who goes first!” you yelled, the revelation of Kid’s interest fading into the background in your desire. “For fuck’s sake, just whip it out!”

They all laughed at that, which only pissed you off further. Then Kid’s voice echoed across the room, sending a pleasant chill down your spine.

“Pass her here.”

Killer scooped you up and leaned over, holding you out to Kid like you weren’t a whole adult. The chairs were close enough together that Kid could reach you without getting up, merely holding out his metal arm and letting Killer drop you onto his palm. His arm didn’t even dip with your weight.

Kid tipped his hand suddenly so you fell into his lap, momentum throwing you against his chest and making you instinctively grab him for support.

“I get it, Y/n. You’re desperate. But you don’t have to grab me over it,” he jeered, and not for the first time in your life, you seriously contemplated striking your captain.

“Hold on,” Wire said, patting his pockets and frowning. “Does anyone have condoms?”

“Not an issue,” you said abruptly, “I’m set on birth control.”

“I thought you didn’t get any,” Heat asked, now back in his chair.

“There are other reasons to take birth control. It makes your menstrual symptoms less severe.”

“I knew that,” Wire said, sounding proud of himself.

”No one cares! Get on with it!”

Kid looked thoughtful, smile faltering as he deliberated over something. “...Wire may be right, actually.”

“What?” You stared at him.

“I mean, four guys, after you haven’t had a partner in years? It’s far too much. You could end up hurt.”

You searched his eyes, trying to figure out where this sudden change of heart came from. It was so unlike Kid that you didn’t even protest at first, bewildered.

“I wouldn’t want you to walk away from this with regrets, Y/n,” Kid said gravely. “You’ve come once already, so that should be adequate. End the night on a good note.”

“No! No, I can keep going! Please, please!” you bid urgently.

Kid’s somber look broke at your plea, his lip curling like he was trying not to smile, and you realized that he was messing with you. Arousal flipped into anger in an instant.

“You’re such a dick!” you cried. “I can’t believe you! I know you want it too, so stop fucking with me and start fucking me already!”

Kid’s infuriating smirk grew wider. “Beg for my cock.”

“Ugh! Fine, you jerk!” You ground your hips into his bulge to help make your point, face flushed hot as you glared at him. “Please, Kid! I–I need you. I need to be violated in the way that only a ruthless pirate captain can.”

It was kind of stupid, but Kid was vain enough that the words got to him anyway, his nostrils flaring with the steep breath he took. “That easy, huh? I always knew deep down, you were a slut.”

You slapped him, hard. The slap echoed as the room fell quiet, and though Kid was momentarily stunned, you felt his dick twitch through his pants.

“You’re the one making me beg–” you started to say, but Kid grabbed you by the neck and pulled you in for a rough, possessive kiss. He wasted no time in claiming your mouth with his tongue, probing it deep to wrap around yours. You moaned into his mouth, grinding on him for some much-needed friction. Kid pulled back, but you followed, straining forward to kiss him again.

The fingers of his flesh hand curled into your hair, gripping tight and forcing you back off of him. The slight pain pulled another little moan out of you, and Kid grinned.

“One more time. Tell me how bad you need it,” he said huskily.

“I think I’m gonna die if you don’t,” you whined.

“Good girl.”

He prompted you to lift your hips so he could reach his pants, undoing them and finally, finally pulling out his cock. You pulled your own pants and underwear down before Kid could think to rip them, not keen on doing a bottomless walk of shame in front of the crew later. Kicking off the garments, you repositioned yourself over Kid. He groaned when you wrapped your hand around his thickness to line yourself up.

“Fuck,” he husked. “If your pussy’s as small as your hands…”

“Wait, Kid,” Killer interjected. “Make her face us.”

“Why?” Kid asked, but you had already started to turn around in his lap to comply with Killer’s wishes. Kid’s voice suddenly dropped low, heavy with interest. “Oh.”

“What?” You glanced over your shoulder, where Kid’s eyes were boring into the spot right below the back of your neck. You realized he had never seen your tattoo before. “Oh, my ta–ahh!”

Kid slid two fingers up through your slit, finishing with a little circle around your clit that made your legs weaken. “Now when did you go and get that done?” he murmured.

“Fewmonthsago,” you slurred. “Kid…”

He grabbed your hips, positioning you over his cock. “I wouldn’t have made you wait so long if I had known. You’ve been dedicated all this time, haven’t you?” He guided you down slowly, thick cock parting you gradually.

You bit your lip and nodded, that aching within you finally eased. Kid’s grip tightened as your hips met, digging into your skin.

“Shit,” he cursed. “You’re really wet. Killer wasn’t joking. Now, face forward.”

You turned your head back to look at the other three. Everyone else had taken their dicks out at that point and were stroking themselves, Heat’s free hand holding a still-burning blunt. You glanced between them–all eyes were on you, making you burn up even hotter. Their gazes felt like a physical sensation on your skin. Your own gaze faltered, though, when a harsh smack landed on your ass.

“Ah!” you yelped, the sting both grounding you and riling you up worse.

“Captain, at least ask if she likes it first,” Wire admonished.

“She got tighter, Wire,” Kid responded, groping your ass cheeks. “I think she likes it just fine.”

“It’s okay,” you mumbled, starting to move. With your feet unable to touch the floor, you had to use your thighs to squeeze Kid’s lap and lift yourself up and down, but you had plenty of stamina to go at that point and a monstrous, intoxicated desire spurring you on. You set a quick, needy pace, fucking yourself on his rigid cock so he hit all the right spots, making whimpers slip out between your panting breaths. You rolled your hips whenever they met Kid’s, grinding him into your g-spot deliciously.

“Fuck,” Kid groaned, and smacked your other ass cheek, making you moan. “Look at you go, princess. I’m gonna cum soon if you don’t calm down.” He grabbed your hips and dug his fingers in tightly, forcing you to stop. You cried out in protest, your pleasure mercilessly cut off. “Kid!”

Kid leaned in and kissed your tattoo, moving your hips up and down at a cruelly slow pace and ignoring your cries.

“Kid, go faster! Please!” you begged.

“No,” he said, and even without facing him you could hear the grin in his voice. “You have to earn it.”

“How?!”

“By being honest, for once.” He kissed your tattoo again, and this time let his tongue drag over the inked skin, making a shiver run down your spine. “Did I hear you correctly earlier, Y/n? You haven’t just been flirting with us for fun…” He pulled you down on his cock, holding your hips down and rolling his up into you. “You’ve caught some feelings as well, so say it again.”

“What do I say?” you whined, too needy to remember.

“You said you love us,” Wire said smugly, now in possession of the blunt.

“Oh!” you said, both in surprise and because Kid was fucking you slowly and deeply now. “I…b-but…”

“Shy now?” Heat chuckled.

“That’s so embarrassing, come on,” you protested, “just hurry up and go faster, Kid!”

Kid’s lips pressed to your tattoo again, and you could feel his lips curl into a smirk. “No.”

“I don’t think that pace is gonna change until you say it,” Killer mused.

“Fine!” you huffed, then lowered your voice. “I… I love you…”

“What was that?” Kid asked.

“I didn’t hear anything,” Killer said.

Wire grinned, and Heat shook his head. “Me neither.”

Your face burned. “I love you,” you said again, though it was still a bit quiet in your embarrassment.

“Louder,” Kid commanded, slowing his pace even further until tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“Kid, please. I love you.”

“You can do better than that. Tell us how you really feel.”

“I love you!” you whined. Kid picked up his pace ever so slightly.

“And Killer?”

“Y-Yes! I love him too!”

“And W–”

“And Wire and Heat! All of you!”

“Say it again!” Kid smacked your ass.

“Ah-! I love you!” you cried it out, again and again, and Kid did not fuck you properly until you were screaming it. Only then did he give you what you needed, bouncing you on his cock fervently with his metal hand. Everyone watched, enraptured, three pairs of eyes on you, on your bouncing breasts, on the point where your body met Kid’s.

“My loyal girl,” Kid praised, tongue on your tattoo again, “you like getting fucked by your captain?”

“Yes!”

“Wanna be shared by everyone?”

“Yes! I’m, I’m gonna cum-!”

“Who do you belong to?”

“The Kid Pirates!” you cried.

“Good girl. Now, cum on my cock for everyone to see.”

You came hard, orgasm hitting you like a battering ram, making your body tighten and lock up. Kid held you down as you pulsed around him, cursing as he tried to keep himself from tipping over the edge along with you.

For a minute, there was nothing but the soft sound of slapping around you as the other three jacked off to the sight of your bliss. You went limp against Kid, panting.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” Heat muttered. “So fucking hot.”

“Have some discipline, Heat,” Kid said above you, “you’re next anyway.”

“Ugh, I hate edging.” Heat let go of himself, holding his hand away.

“It’ll be worth it,” Wire said. “Don’t let the weed make you finish early.”

“Easy for you to say, Wire. You do this kind of thing all the time.”

As your fuzzy brain started to grasp cognitive thought once more, you wondered if that was why Wire seemed to be in charge here. You always knew he was kinky, but never realized just how much experience he had.

Killer, who’d been holding onto the blunt while Kid was occupied, now passed it to Kid, who took a deep hit before offering it to you. You held up your hand in refusal, needing to catch up on oxygen first.

“How you holding up, Y/n?” Wire asked.

“Fucking fantastic,” you said earnestly, making them all laugh.

“Who’s great idea was this, again?” Kid asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” you said, shifting and dismounting off him, making him grunt from the stimulation. You pecked him on the lips, silently grateful that he had pushed you past your nervousness. “Thanks, Captain.”

Kid smirked proudly as you started to slide off his lap, and he grabbed your wrist to stop you from walking away. “Where do you think you’re going? We’re passing you around, remember?” With that, he pulled you back into him and picked you up, making you squeak in surprise, before stepping over to Heat and setting you down onto his lap.

Heat’s blush deepened as you immediately recovered and hooked your arms around his neck. He parted his lips when you leaned in to kiss him, his tongue sliding over yours, gently stroking and intertwining, making you moan sweetly. He started touching himself again, which you noticed once Heat started to gasp into your mouth.

“Heat, wait,” you said. “Let me.”

Heat moved his hand away, and you replaced it with your own. The feeling of something metallic and hard against your palm made you pause, pulling your hand away to look. Heat had his dick pierced, a frenum ladder–a set of parallel barbells going up the underside and stopping at the frenum.

“Oh, wow,” you said, running your thumb down the underside of his cock to feel the metal underneath. Heat groaned, his dick twitching. “Is it sensitive?”

“Yes,” he hissed, closing his hand around yours and making you start to jerk him off. “Don’t be a tease.”

“Says you! You were the one who tormented me earlier!”

“You look good when you’re needy,” Heat bit out, thrusting up into your hand. “I couldn’t help it. Now squeeze harder.”

“No, I wanna try something else,” you said, stopping. “I want to know what it feels like in my mouth.”

“Nope, sorry. I’ll come too quickly and have to sit out the rest of the session.”

You frowned. “Fiiiine. You’d better make up for it, then.”

Heat’s brows raised, then his eyes narrowed, and suddenly you felt as if you possibly made a mistake in your choice of words.

“Uh oh,” Wire said, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“Make up for it?” Heat sneered down at you. “Do you think I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Heat,” you tried to placate him, but his tight grip on your hips told you that you were in trouble.

“Come here,” he snapped, pulling you to hover over his dick. “I don’t have a metal arm like Kid to toss you around with–so instead, you’re going to do what I say.”

It was so unlike Heat that you found yourself complying right away, resting your hands on his shoulders. “Or what?” you teased.

“Or we’ll find out your limits the hard way, regardless of what Wire says,” Heat lined himself up with your entrance, “I get the feeling you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“How should I know? I’ve never tried–oh…” You lost your words as Heat guided you to sink down onto his length. He was thicker toward the base, letting you feel each one of his piercings slide along your sensitive insides. “Oh, fuck, that’s–that’s good...”

Heat smirked. “Like the piercings?”

“Yes!” You rolled your hips to feel them move inside you, your eyelids fluttering shut. “Fuck.”

“Eyes on me, babe.” Heat instructed, and you snapped your eyes open to see him looking at you intensely, the hunger in his gaze sending prickles all over your skin. He slid his hands up your sides to your front, groping your breasts, pulling a moan out of you when he rubbed your nipples with his thumbs. You look down to watch him do it, contracting around him at the sight, and Heat corrected you with a harsh slap to your ass.

“Ah!”

“She does tighten up,” Heat grinned, his arm muscles flexing as he delivered a second firm smack.

“Heat!”

“Eyes up.”

You kept your eyes on him this time, even as he teased and tugged at your nipples. Gripping him tight, you rolled your hips again, the combination of the piercings and your chest being played with nearly making your eyes roll back. “Oh, fuck. Spank me again.”

Heat grinned. “Ask nicely.”

“Please!”

“Attagirl.” Heat smacked your other ass cheek, making you cry out. “What do you say?”

“T-Thank you!”

He chuckled. “You’re cute, you know that?” One of his hands snaked its way up your chest and around your throat, fingers wrapping around your neck.

Wire spoke up, his voice a firm admonishment. “Heat.”

“M’not squeezin’,” Heat said, pulling you in for another greedy kiss. You eagerly reciprocated, sucking on his tongue and making him groan. “Fuck…Come on, ride me.”

He didn’t have to ask twice. You planted your feet on the floor and started to lift yourself up and down on his cock, whimpering at the unique sensation of riding a pierced dick. Heat was already filling you up, to feel the barbells stimulating you on top of it was almost overwhelming in your intoxicated state.

“There’s a good girl,” Heat moaned. “Oh, fuck. Look at you.”

Heat fondled your chest as you rode him at a brisk, even pace, rolling your hips to grind your clit into him. You felt yourself rapidly approach the edge, until he pinched your nipple a little too hard, and the pain brought you out of it with a yelp.

“Ah-! Too hard, Heat,” you whimpered.

“See?” Wire said. “This is why you have to discuss these things. We really should have started by now.”

“Isn’t it too late?” Kid asked.

“No.”

“Where do we start, then?” Killer wondered.

“With what she wants out of this,” Wire said. “If she can even focus right now.”

You could not, especially when Heat chose right then to smack your ass again, which brought you right back to the edge. “Fuck, Heat!”

“Gonna cum, pretty girl?” Heat whispered huskily.

“Yes! I’m close!”

“That’s too bad–I want you to slow down.”

“W-What?”

“You heard me.” Heat lifted his legs so you could no longer reach the floor, your riding stopped in an instant.

“Ahh, no no no, Heat! Don’t stop!” you protested, trying to stretch your legs to reach the floor again, but he was much taller than you were.

“Only if you agree to slow down.” Heat said, massaging your breasts. “Can you do that for me?”

“I’ll do anything, just let me keep going, please!”

“Then ride me, slowly, and pay attention to what we’re talking about.” Heat lowered his legs again, graciously letting you reach the floor. “Otherwise I’ll just stop again when you’re about to cum.”

You nodded, slowly working yourself up and down his shaft. It was torturous to go at that pace after all you had been treated to, but the moment you sped up, he would just stop you anyway.

The blunt was passed to Heat at that moment, and he took a deep hit. With his other hand, he pulled you closer to him by the neck, sealing his lips around yours. You followed his lead, inhaling as he exhaled, filling your lungs with smoke.

Heat didn’t force you to take his entire hit, knowing he could handle bigger lungfuls than you could, and you both exhaled at the same time. He passed the blunt to Wire and placed both hands on your face, pulling you in again for a kiss that tasted of smoke.

“You listenin’?” Heat asked. He was looking at you with adoration now, and you nodded, wanting nothing more than to please him. “Wire asked you what you want out of this.”

He went back to massaging your chest the way you liked, playing with your nipples more gently while you rolled your hips and whimpered, trying to think while being teased. Your brain was already high on weed and dick–what more could you want? If you could do absolutely anything more than this, what would you do?

A mental image suddenly came into your mind. Of course. The only thing better than being used by all of them would be being used by all of them at the same time. You pictured it vividly, taking them in all three of your holes at once, and the thought turned you on so much that suddenly you were at the edge again. It only took one more roll of your hips before your orgasm snuck up on you, making you tremble all over as you choked on a gasp.

“She’s cumming,” Heat announced as you fluttered around him. “Fuuuck.”

“From that pace?” Killer asked. “Is she reaching her limit?”

“I don’t think that’s it,” Kid said.

“I’m with Kid. It’s something else,” Wire said. “Come on, Y/n, use your words.”

You sagged against Heat as your orgasm pulsed through your insides, muttering against his chest. Heat laughed. “She said she knows what she wants,” he said. “I think she just had a nice little mental image to get off to.”

Heat rubbed your back as you came down, then had you dismount him. He picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder, stepping over and letting you fall into Wire’s big arms.

“Well?” Wire said, repositioning you so you were sitting and facing the group. He rubbed your hips fondly. “Tell us what you want, and we’ll make it happen.”

You turned to look at Wire’s dick up close. He was proportional to his height, twice as big as the others at least. There was a single frenum piercing that you immediately went to touch.

“Pay attention,” Wire said, though he made no move to stop you.

 At that point, you had not an ounce of reservation or shame left to be found. “I want everyone at the same time,” you said. “All holes.”

“Ohh?” Wire said. Kid whistled, and Heat chuckled in surprise while Killer leaned forward in interest.

“I’ve…I’ve always wanted to try something like that,” you admitted. “I can handle it.”

Wire bent down to kiss the top of your head. “Alright. We’ll work up to it, but first things first. Sorry to ask, but when was the last time you went to the bathroom?” After you told him, he nodded. “Then we should be fine for anal.”

“And in the meantime…” you said, lifting up on your knees and going to straddle his cock, but Wire turned you back around to face the group, pressing down on your shoulders so you were forced to sit further up on his lap. “Wire?”

“You’re not ready for me yet,” Wire said. “Maybe after another rotation.”

“What?! Come on!”

“Hush.” Wire pulled you back by the hips so you could feel his big cock nestled against your ass, an unfair tease of what you could potentially have had he not been so damn concerned for your well-being.

Before you could protest, Wire ran his huge hands down your body, one of them spreading your legs. Two thick fingers burrowed their way down and penetrated you, the length of them making it easy for him to reach your g-spot with a slight curling motion.

“Oh, fuck!” you gasped, squeezing around his fingers.

“Let’s get this started. For your sake, I’ll condense what we need to go through as much as possible without you getting hurt. Okay?”

“Okay!”

“There’s my good girl.” Wire rewarded you by rubbing your clit with his thumb, making your toes curl. He stopped far too soon as he began his questioning. “Now, what are your hard limits? The things you will absolutely not do?”

“Mm, fuck…Hard limits?” you echoed, trying to think while he had two fingers massaging your g-spot. “Um, um… No watersports. And, no calling me really mean things? ‘Slut’ and ‘whore’ and stuff are fine, though, but I don’t want to be actually insulted.”

“You prefer being teased about what you like, right? Rather than being told you’re only good for sex, that sort of thing.”

“Yeah, you understand. I don’t like being called stupid or useless.”

“Fair enough,” said Killer, one hand on his dick while the other held the blunt to a hole in his mask. “I don’t like that kind of thing either.”

“You can call me a dumb slut any day,” Heat muttered, surprising you and making Kid laugh, “but I get it.”

“And I don’t want to be throat-fucked really hard,” you said. “I want you to use my mouth, but only go into my throat at the end to cum. Actually, I’d rather you came in my mouth than on my face–hhn!”

Wire resumed rubbing your clit again as a reward for your honesty, short-circuiting your brain until he stopped. “Deepthroating once is okay, only at the end. No finishing on your face. What else?”

You continued that way, detailing your limits while getting fingered, with Wire teasing your clit every time you finished answering a question. Wire added a third finger inside you once he moved on to asking you about positions, and by the time the safety discussion was done, he didn’t let up playing with your clit, either. His fingers curled and rubbed against your g-spot in perfect rhythm with his thumb, his other hand teased your chest, and, legs shaking, you came hard into his hand a few blissful minutes later.

“Aw, my sweet little girl can’t stop cumming for her superiors,” Wire praised, turning your head to kiss you. “Love how you use that crazy stamina of yours for us.”

“I’d do anything for you,” you said earnestly, a little drunk on the rush of your orgasm.

Wire blinked for a moment in surprise, then smiled, running his other hand over your head adoringly. “All the more reason you deserve this. Now, clean up this mess you made,” he said, holding his slick-coated fingers to your lips, “and I’ll pass you to Killer.”

You held Wire’s hand in your smaller ones as you licked and sucked on his fingers. He probed inside your mouth teasingly, rubbing your tongue and feeling around, working you back up so you’d be nice and needy for Killer. As if that would be an issue–with the Red Sky in your blood, you knew you could go all night. You wanted to go all night.

“Don’t miss a single spot,” Wire muttered in your ear, and you complied, tongue weaving in-between his fingers obediently. “Do you like how you taste?”

“Uh-huh,” you said honestly, sending a noticeable wave of excitement through the group.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” Heat groaned, letting his tongue loll out as he stroked himself.

“She sure makes it look good, doesn’t she, Killer?” Kid grinned. “Why don’t you eat her out later?”

“Yeah,” Killer replied, a breathiness to his voice, fisting himself faster. “I intend to.”

Letting you cool down this way gave you the chance to really focus on watching the others, and you never realized how tantalizing it was to watch the three men you crushed on jack off at the sight of you. Thrilled and impatient, you pulled Wire’s hand away. “I want Killer now.”

Killer growled in excitement at your words, sending a shiver up your spine. Wire took mercy on the both of you, deciding you had done a good enough job. He scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style, and handed you off to the masked man.

Killer, eager to have you to himself for a little while, opted to have you facing him. 

“What the hell, man? Face her forward,” Kid complained.

“No,” Killer said, “I want to see her face when I make her cum.”

He didn’t miss how you squirmed on his lap at the statement, a rumble in his chest. You didn’t know which you preferred–both watching the others and having one-on-one attention was elating, but it would have been better if you could see Killer’s expression. You supposed him wanting you this way would have to be enough for now, though you still longed to kiss him. It couldn’t hurt to ask, right?

“Killer,” your purr was just on the edge of a pouty whine, “won’t you kiss me? Please?”

Killer hesitated just a moment, prompting the others to speak up.

“She’s been so good, Kill, don’t you think?” Wire said.

“Go on, we won’t look,” said Heat.

“No pressure,” Kid added.

Killer’s mask tilted down, and you knew he was looking right at you. “If that’s what you really want.”

“I’ve wanted that for a long time,” you told him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance.”

“Can’t say I ever thought I’d get to either.” His large hands rubbed up and down your sides. “Didn’t think any of this would ever happen. You were so…”

“Yeah?”

“Awkward.”

The other three barked out laughs, and you pouted. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“But even before that…” Killer said, one hand tracing the scar on your clavicle, “you were quiet… lonely.” He brought both hands to cradle your face.

Though only faced with the mask, you felt like you could see through it to his eyes. “I’m not lonely anymore,” you whispered.

One of his hands shifted to cover your eyes, and you held your breath in anticipation. A moment later, you felt the soft, smooth warmth of his lips pressing to yours. The kiss was hesitant, uncertain, but heavy with wanting; you parted your lips slightly to give him silent permission to go further. When he didn’t, you poked your tongue out to trace his bottom lip, testing, and Killer responded with a soft groan. He pulled you closer with his free hand, deepening the kiss and finally tasting you, his tongue meeting yours. The touch of the wet muscles released some sort of floodgate within him; suddenly he was kissing you fervently, all that wanting let loose onto you. You felt him pull away, only to press a kiss to your jaw, then your neck, working his way down to your scar, which he dragged his tongue across.

You whimpered, reaching up to dig your fingers into his hair and hold on, core aching with need as he kissed down to your breasts.

Suddenly you felt yourself tipping down, yelping as Killer flipped you lengthwise, your chest in his lap and your legs in the air on either side of his neck. He wrapped his arms around your lower half, firmly holding you in place. There was no warning before he pressed his face into your cunt.

“Ah, K-Killer!” you moaned as he lapped and slurped at the sensitive flesh, tonguing between your folds and into your center. He ate you out with all the fervor of a man starved, his goatee rubbing into your clit as he went.

“That’s one way to cure cottonmouth,” Heat said, prompting Kid to lean over to high-five him.

“Don’t be lazy, Y/n,” Wire tutted, “suck him off.”

“Yeah, suck his dick!” Kid encouraged, tongue sticking out.

“Fuck, o-okay,” you breathed, bracing yourself against his muscular thighs with one hand and wrapping your fingers around his cock with the other. You guided his leaking tip into your mouth. It was warm and smooth on your tongue, the salty tang of pre-cum leaving your head spinning. You couldn’t really bob your head from that position, but you did your best to try and please him, though you felt too distracted by the way he plunged his tongue inside you. Killer, on the other hand, didn’t seem thrown off by the added stimulation, merely moaning into your cunt and continuing his assault on your senses.

“Attagirl,” Heat praised. “Take him deeper.”

“Watch us while you do it,” Wire commanded.

Killer had a slight upward curve to his dick, so from that angle, you found that taking him further into your mouth wasn’t so difficult. As long as you braced yourself, you could handle it without choking. You strained forward, letting him deeper into your mouth, eyes flicking up to meet the others’ gazes as you did. The eye contact tightened the building tension within you even tighter, and your moan was muffled when Killer started sucking on your clit.

“Fuck, there you go, princess,” Kid said.

“Mmff-!” you pulled off of Killer’s dick, gasping. “Gonna cum! Killer!”

Just like that, Killer manhandled you to flip you back the right way up, pulling you down onto his cock all the way to the base. He had his mask tilted partway up, beautiful blue eyes cast in shadow barely visible, but fixated on you. He started bouncing you on his cock like you weighed nothing, fingers sinking into your hips, the muscles of his arms and abs flexing. Killer gritting his teeth, too lost in the euphoria of fucking you to worry about his face being visible.

“Killer!” you moaned, holding on for dear life, his handsome face in view as you felt yourself climbing to yet another dizzying orgasm. You trembled as it washed over you, and Killer growled when he felt your walls spasming.

“You cumming on my cock, pretty girl?” he said huskily, holding you down and thrusting up into your g-spot.

“Yes, yes, fuck,” you whimpered–somehow, even being the fifth time, it was just as strong as the first. You slumped against Killer, resting your hands on his chest and catching your breath. He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before lowering his mask. 

You were still feeling the waves of it by the time Killer lifted you off of him, a rope of slick connecting your cunt to the tip of his dick.

“Do you need a break?” Killer asked, rubbing your back.

“I don’t know? Maybe?” you said. “I’m a bit tired, but it’s weird. No matter how hard I cum, I still want more.”

“At least drink something,” Wire suggested.

“Like cum?”

That earned you a few giggles from Heat and Kid. Wire picked up one of the water bottles on the table and tossed it at Killer, who caught it one-handed and offered it to you.

After rehydrating, you were passed to Kid. Despite his earlier protests to Killer, he faced you toward himself this time. At first you thought this was to torment you more, as he seemed eager to make you say embarrassing things so he could commit the look on your face to memory.

“Who’s your captain?” Kid demanded as he fucked up into you.

“You are!” you cried.

“And who’s your daddy?”

“Ah! Y-You are!”

Afterward, you realized he just wanted to make out while you rode him. Or maybe it was both things, but you weren’t about to complain. It was hard to tell which of you was more greedy; him for offering up this situation in the first place, or you for accepting it enthusiastically.

Heat opted to take you on the ground for his turn in the rotation, pushing you onto your hands and knees and giving backshots that had your toes curling. Finally, Wire agreed to let you ride him, facing you toward the group and letting you lower yourself onto his cock at your own pace. It was a tight fit, he was the biggest you had ever taken, but you had been fucked so thoroughly and came so many times at that point that you didn’t need any extra preparation. It only took a little bit of working yourself down to take him all.

“Theeere you go,” Wire praised as he bottomed out. You shivered at the sensation of being filled so full. He was pressed firmly against your g-spot without even needing to move or angle himself, all it took was you clenching down on him to feel bliss. He chuckled when he felt you doing so repeatedly, bending down to whisper into your ear. “How’s that big dick feel?”

“So good, Wire,” you sighed, resting your hands over his on your hips. The final blunt in the rotation was passed to Wire, and after taking his hit, he held it to your lips so you could take a hit, too.

Wire passed the blunt, then moved your hands to your lower stomach, making you feel the pronounced bulge that was there. You clenched up again at the feel of it. “You know,” he murmured, “I always had a feeling you could take all of me. That you were made for taking cock.”

“Let me see,” Kid said. 

Wire moved your hands away to show off your belly bulge. “You guys wanna take a closer look?” he asked with a lazy smirk.

Before you knew it, the other three had come over to see the spectacle up close, whistling and cooing. You flushed hotter as they felt it for themselves.

“It’s like you were made for us, babe,” Heat said. He stepped even closer so he was right in front of you, then took his cock and rubbed the tip against your clit, making you gasp. It was smooth and slick against the sensitive nub.

“Fuck, Heat!” you moaned, hands twitching, but Wire held them firmly at your sides, not letting you move.

“What?” Heat said. “After everything, you can’t take this?”

“S-Sensitive! It’s–oh god, fuck…”

“Her hands are free,” Wire pointed out to the other two, holding your hands out. Kid and Killer didn’t hesitate, positioning themselves at your sides. Wire guided your hands around their cocks, helping you jerk them off. The group forced you to stay trapped in that position, Wire rocking his hips all the while. Your eyes rolled back; the build was steep and intense, causing tears to form at the corners of your eyes. The others praised you while you whimpered.

“Did you think about us? When you were alone in the shower?” Wire muttered into your ear.

“Yes! I’m, I’m cumming,” you whined. None of them let up, pushing you over the edge yet again.

“How many times is this?” Kid grinned as you gasped and shuddered.

“That makes six,” Killer said.

“About to be seven,” Wire said, reaching around to rub your clit in expert circles. 

“Wire!” You immediately twitched and writhed, but couldn’t get away. “It’s too soon, it’s too soon!”

“You can take it,” he assured, thrusting up harder. Before he was mostly still, this time his massive cock slid in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. You didn’t think you could cum again so soon, but the overstimulation soon went from maddening to euphoric under his experienced touches. Only another minute of you keening, and then you came again.

“Told you,” Wire said as he finally released your hands. “Seven.”

You fell back against Wire, feeling a bit light-headed. Heat patted your cheek and Killer ruffled your hair.

“Still good to keep going?” Wire asked, grinding his hips against yours to draw out your orgasm. You didn’t respond, too fucked-out, still riding the sensation of the little pulses shooting through your core. “I’m gonna need a response if you want this to continue, sweetheart.”

Your voice was small and shaky. “Don’t stop.”

“You heard her,” Kid grinned.

“What do you think, then, Y/n?” Wire asked. “You ready for all of us?”

“Y-Yeah…” you said. “Just…gimme a minute.”

“And everyone else? You all still in?”

The rest of the group gave eager agreements. Wire helped you dismount from him and let you rest against his broad chest. In the meantime, he started directing the others to set up. There wasn’t much to do, just taking the blanket from the nearby bed and putting it onto the floor for some extra cushioning. Everyone took a drink break, and the last blunt was stubbed out on the now-full ashtray. You went to sit in the center of the blanket, and the others followed. There was a brief discussion on how to make the positions work, you were given another check-in to ensure you were okay with the setup, and anyone who hadn’t fully disrobed did so.

Killer laid down on his back, taking your hand as you crawled over him. You mounted his cock eagerly; despite all the prior attention, you were finally getting to try acting out one of your fantasies, and had perked right back up at the chance.

“Nervous?” Killer asked as Kid took up position behind you.

You shook your head. “You know I trust you guys with my life, right?”

“That’s right,” Kid said, pressing a kiss to the tattoo on your back. Then he placed a hand on your back and pushed you forward to expose your cunt to him. He positioned his cock right up against Killer’s, pushing against it and forward to stretch your cunt until it gave way to his, too. You bit your lip as you were filled by both men simultaneously–the stretch was just like taking Wire.

“Who fills you more?” Wire questioned as he took place at your side, taking your hand and putting it on his cock. “Our captain and first mate, or me?”

“I can’t really tell,” you answered honestly, wrapping your hand around the base of him.

“I guess we’ll just have to give you more practice, then,” he grinned.

Heat stepped over Killer, standing in front of you. “Open wide, babygirl,” he purred, and you did so, tongue sticking out like a landing strip for his cock. He eased himself into your mouth gently, cursing when you started to suck on him. The feeling of his piercings on your tongue was fun, a little sensory treat for you to play with.

Kid started to thrust first, Killer waiting a bit to pick up on Kid’s rhythm before he joined him. He timed himself so you were never left empty; if Kid was pulling back, Killer was thrusting in, and vice versa. The two of them were in perfect sync like they’d done this before, and you wouldn’t have been surprised if they had. Between Kid’s grip on your hips and Killer’s hands on your waist, you were held steady so you didn’t rock too far forward, keeping you feeling the full brunt of their combined attack.

“God, I’ve wanted to do this for a while.” Heat said, placing a hand on the back of your head and starting to thrust shallowly into your mouth. Now that you had been pushed to make eye contact so much during the rotations, there was no more hesitation from you as you looked up through your eyelashes at Heat, who cursed at the sight.

“Oh, fuck, you look good like that,” he muttered, “sucking my cock while getting railed. You feel so fucking good, shit.”

“Isn’t she just perfect?” Wire cooed, guiding your hand to pump his cock. “Servicing us all with those slutty little holes of hers, and doing such a good job of it, too.”

Your moans were muffled by Heat’s cock, but the sound made the others’ grip on you tighten, their thrusts increasing in force. It was almost everything you had wanted, their cocks a drug to you as much as the weed was–you didn’t think you could feel any better. But even then, with three of them inside you pounding you into oblivion, you still wanted more. During the discussion, Wire made you agree to show you could take double penetration before trying triple. You had no choice but to comply, but like you had told Kid earlier, they had no idea just what you could handle. 

You gave the safety signal with your trembling free hand, holding up three fingers. Wire immediately barked at the other three to stop, and when they pulled out of you, you felt emptier than when before you had started.

“You okay? What’s wrong?” Wire asked. The whole group was alert and focused on you now.

“I took two, like you said!” you cried out. “I don’t want to jerk you off, Wire, I want you all at once, like you promised!”

Wire started to laugh while the others relaxed.

“That’s all?” Killer huffed. “I was worried for a second.”

Kid smacked your ass. “That’s my girl! A true Kid pirate.” He pulled you up by the neck so your chest was flush with his back, growling into your ear. “You’re just a greedy little thing, aren’t you? Need us all right this second, hmm?”

“Fuck, yes, just hurry up,” you whined.

Kid held his hand in front of your face. “Spit,” he commanded.

You spat into his palm, and he stroked his cock with that hand. “Alright, boys, let’s rearrange. Wire? What do you think?”

“I’ll take her mouth,” Wire said. “Too big for triple. Otherwise, first choice of ‘loot’ goes to the captain.”

“Her ass is mine.”

“I’m good here,” Killer said.

Heat joined Kid and Killer behind you while Wire took his place in front. He had to sit up on his legs for his cock to be at the right height to line up with your head.

“First Killer and Heat start, then Kid, so I can keep an eye on her. Once I think she’s good, I’ll take her mouth,” Wire directed.

Killer and Heat penetrated your cunt at the same time, hilting themselves before Kid pressed the head of his cock against your ass. The weed had relaxed your muscles enough so that there was little resistance, but you still closed your eyes at the unique feeling of him entering you there. It had been a while since you played with yourself anally, so adding it to the mix of sensations was a thrill. As Kid filled you up, Heat and Killer noticeably tensed in pleasure, the space inside you growing even smaller with the third addition.

“Tight,” Kid muttered, pulling out slightly before pushing in even further, making you moan as you were stuffed to the brim.

“But she did it,” Wire noted, looking proud. He stroked your cheek. “Sorry to have underestimated you.” You responded by opening your mouth, and Wire grinned. “Little slut. Alright, here I come.”

You could only really take the first two inches of Wire in your mouth, but that was enough, you swirled your tongue over his frenum piercing as you sucked him off. The other three took that as a signal to start. Kid went at his own brutal pace, steady but harsh, while the other two were more gentle as they figured out a good rhythm. At first it was disorganized and more uncomfortable than you had expected, until Wire directed Kid to slow down, and suddenly the other three fell into the perfect pace. At that point, you feared you had no rational thought left, every bit of cognition fucked out of your body. A warm, thick haze fell over your mind as they ravaged you, some part of you finally feeling relief from being used so thoroughly by your superiors. It was the satisfaction of your deepest fantasies coming true. Every nerve in your body was attuned to the feeling of their skin on you, against you, inside you. 

Their desire for you was evident in their desperation, in their hands all over your body, in their praises and groans and whines of your name. At the center of their carnal affection, you finally felt whole.

Wire dug his fingers into your hair, grunting that he was close. You were, too, but you couldn’t tell them as you were. The other three figured it out when they felt your walls flutter around their cocks.

“She came.”

“Fuck, she came again.”

“Good girl, good girl.”

You could barely tell who said what, but the following curse of “f-fuck!” came from Wire, and a moment later, a salty, slightly bitter taste coated the back of your tongue. You swallowed it down without a second thought, fully in subspace and never happier.

Heat came next; you couldn’t really feel it, only noticing once he pulled out and you were suddenly, tragically emptier.

“Just you and me, Kill,” Kid said.

Wire pulled out of your mouth, and you collapsed forward onto Killer, fingers scraping against the curly fuzz of his chest hair.

“Easy, just–mm–relax,” Killer grunted, hands traveling up your sides. “Fuck, you don’t know how good you feel.”

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” you panted. “Keep g-going.”

You rested your head on Killer’s chest as they double-teamed you, content to lay there and be used. It came as a surprise when you felt fingers rubbing your clit–Kid had reached around to tease you.

“One last one, princess,” he said.

“Ah, Kid! I don’t think–” you started, but Kid smacked your ass hard and made your words end in a yelp.

“Trust your captain.”

“Y-Yes, sir.” You hung your head down, breaths coming out short, putting all your focus on your lower half.

“Just a bit more,” Killer urged. “Just a bit–fuck, I’m at my limit.”

Killer emptied inside you with a low groan. Kid didn’t let up, rubbing your clit between his thumb and forefinger, pushing you to the edge with that sheer, brutal determination that he approached everything in life with.

“I’m almost there,” Kid promised. “Cum for me, Y/n, cum for your captain.”

“Kid!” you cried, “Kid, Kid, Kid–!”

You both hit your peak at the same time, you with a tired whimper, Kid with a throaty groan. You felt like you had dissolved into a billion little sparks, unable to do anything but pulse and twitch. Then you went limp, all energy seeming to drain out of your body at once.

“Y/n? Are you alright?” Wire asked, and you responded with a weak grunt of confirmation.

Kid and Killer pulled out, the latter sitting up and supporting you against him.

“Just rest,” Killer said. “We’ll take care of everything.”

“Wait. One last thing,” Kid said. He spread your ass cheeks, a smirk etching itself across his face when he saw the cum leaking out of your holes. “Yeah, that’s good. Nicely done, princess.”

You just pressed your face into Killer’s chest and grunted again. The four men chuckled.

“Let’s get her cleaned up,” Kid said, holding his hands out to you. Killer picked you up for one final pass to Kid, who stood you on your feet and pressed a kiss to your temple. “You look like a fucking mess.”

“Mm,” was the only noise you made, though it still managed to sound sarcastic, and Kid laughed. He detached his metal arm, setting it on the ground, then supported you with his remaining arm as you walked on trembling legs to the bathroom.

Kid started the shower, stepping inside it with you to make sure you wouldn’t collapse. You leaned against him, sighing as the hot water soothed your tired muscles.

“I guess I lived up to my hometown’s reputation after all,” you mumbled into his chest.

“No one gives a shit,” Kid said. “You should be happy you got to do this.”

“I am,” you grabbed the soap and started scrubbing your front. “I just think it’s funny. After all that time, you know?”

“Yeah.” He spun you around so the water hit your front. “After all that time. You were so cold before. I always figured you’d leave after your business was done.”

“I thought so, too,” you said, reminiscing. It felt like a lifetime ago. 

Kid helped you lather soap on your back, then spun you around to let it rinse off. You looked up at him. He was standing over you not unlike that day all those years ago, when you had marched up to him and demanded to join his crew. Except instead of a sneer on his face, there was only a soft look.

You felt yourself tear up. Kid’s expression changed to one of alarm. “Woah, what’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. I’m just happy.”

“You sure? You don’t regret this, right?”

“No. It was exactly what I wanted.” You smiled up at him to show you were fine, even as you sniffled.

“Okay. Good,” he said, looking relieved. “It was what I wanted, too.”

You hugged him tight. “I do have a question, though.”

“What?”

“What was the ‘deal’ you guys were talking about earlier?”

Kid snorted. “Ages ago, we talked about which crewmates we hadn’t fucked yet, and all of us agreed that we would have smashed you if we had the chance. So we decided that none of us would make a move until you did.”

“Is that all? Then why did you get mad at Wire?”

“Because we all know that he’s a huge flirt. None of us believed that you made the first move.”

You thought back to when you kissed him. “We were both drunk, but–yeah, he kissed me first. Despite what he says.”

You and Kid chuckled. After getting cleaned up, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went back out. The others had all redressed by then. You were about to flop into your chair until Wire held his arms out to you. You drifted over and let him pull you into his embrace, resting against him while he massaged your thighs.

“If you want to talk about any of it, just say so,” he said. “Questions, comments, concerns.”

“I just want to eat something that’s not cock,” you said.

The others laughed, except for Heat, who shouted, “Fuck!”

“What?”

“I wasn’t hungry until you said something, damn it.”

You and the other three laughed again, this time at Heat’s expense.

“I could eat all of Whole Cake Island,” you said.

Heat started rummaging around the cabinets in the dresser. “There’s gotta be a list of nearby places to eat–huh?” There was a pause, and then Heat turned around. “Why are there a bunch of condoms in here?”

“Amenities, obviously. Remember what island you’re on,” you said. 

Wire’s hands froze where they were on your hips. “Y/n?” he said, the tone making you nervous.

“Now, listen, Wire–” you started.

“Don’t ‘listen’ me,” he said thinly. “You knew there were condoms and didn’t tell me?”

“Well, you know, I’m still good on birth control, and, uh,”

“It still matters–” Wire realized something, then grabbed your shoulders. “Did you fucking lie so you’d get creampied, you fucking slut?”

The other three howled, and you shrank in his lap, even as you squeaked out, “I’m not sorry.”

“I guess you’ll have to punish her, Wire,” Kid grinned.

“Just let us watch when you do,” Killer added.

“What did you have in mind?” Heat asked.

“Oh, I’ll come up with something.” Wire said. He tickled your sides, making you flail in his lap until you begged for mercy.

“That settles it, then,” Kid said. “Y/n? Before we leave this island, make sure you go get a big bundle of Red Sky for us to take with us.”

“Aye aye, captain,” you said, heart already leaping at what the future would hold.

[dixons-sunshine]

No-Nonsense | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

A/N: I am so sorry this sucks. I’m moving in a few days, Saturday to be exact, and I’ve been packing non-stop today. When I finally sat down, my brain was fried and I couldn’t really think of words lol. This was the best I could do. I hope it’s still somewhat okay!

The sound of a disbelieving scoff being let out had Daryl tensing up. His cerulean-coloured eyes trailed over to where you leaned back against the wall, his hard, steel-like gaze resting on your face. “Ya got somethin’ ya wanna say, Sunshine?”

“Yeah, I do.” Your own angered stare rested solely upon the crossbow-wielding archer, T-Dog, Rick and the kid, Miguel or something, not even being on your mind at that moment. “I want a gun.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at your statement. He didn’t even know why Rick had bothered asking you along. If shit hit the fan, you wouldn’t be able to protect yourself, and the archer didn’t feel like dying for some woman he didn’t even care for. Sure, you were a resident at Atlanta General before the world ended and had come along to check if Merle had potentially suffered from heatstroke, but other than that, you were useless. At least, to Daryl’s knowledge.

“Yeah, well ya ain’t gettin’ one. I ain’t ‘bout to have my head blown off ‘cause’a yer shit aim,” Daryl told you defiantly. Truth be told, he did not even know whether or not you could use a gun, but if your hesitance towards even looking at Dale’s shotgun back at the camp was anything to go by, it was best not to trust you with a weapon that could potentially lead to his demise.

Cleverly sensing that the situation would escalate without an intervention, the self-appointed leader stepped forward and between your’s and Daryl’s line of sight. “No need to get at each other’s throats.” Rick sighed, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. The last thing he wanted was for blood to be spilled over something as meaningless as an argument. The main concern was getting Glenn back. Rick turned towards you, an understanding glint in his eyes. “Shane told me you didn’t know how to handle a gun. I’m guessin’ he’s got it wrong.”

“Shane doesn’t know shit,” you spat bitterly, pushing yourself off the wall. “I know how to use a gun. I just don’t like it.”

“Yeah, well s’the way’a life now, Sweetheart. Better get to likin’ it real quick,” Daryl interjected before Rick could respond. He picked up his crossbow and slung it across his shoulder. “‘Sides, how do we know ya ain’t jus’ lyin’ to us?”

“You don’t,” you began, your jaw clenching as you tried to suppress your anger. “I could be lying to you, or I could be telling the truth. Either way, I’m not walking into that place with nothing but my good looks. So we can continue to argue about this all day, or you can stop being an asshole, shut up, trust me, and give me a goddamn gun, or else you can tend to your brother’s wounds on your own if we find him. Your choice.”

If there was one thing Daryl had to give you points for, it was your no-nonsense attitude. Most of the women at the camp seemed to fear him, but you didn’t. Time and time again, you stood up to both Shane and Merle. You refused to be belittled, and he respected you for that. You could stand your ground, regardless of the person you faced.

Swallowing his pride, because he sensed that he could potentially have been in the wrong, Daryl reached forward and grabbed a handgun from the table. He offered it to you, and when you wrapped your hand around the handle, his hand lingered on the weapon for a few moments. “Jus’ so ya know, I ain’t gon’ carry ya when ya shoot yerself in the foot.”

Against your better judgement, you sent him a small smile. “And I’m not gonna carry you when that guy shoots you in the ass for shooting him in his.”

Daryl let out a small huff of laughter. Under normal circumstances, the archer would have still been pissed. However, for some reason, seeing your smile made his anger fade away and be replaced with another feeling, one that unnerved him beyond belief. However, he pushed that odd, fluttery feeling to the depths of his mind. There were far more pressing matters at hand.

Before he could speak up, Rick’s voice flooded the air, making you and Daryl practically jump apart. “Now that that’s settled, let’s get goin’.” For added emphasis, he cocked his gun, motioning towards the kid. “Let’s get Glenn back.”

You spared one last look at the brooding archer. He gave you a small nod, a stark contrast to his previously angered, frustrated state. “After you,” he mumbled, motioning towards the door.

You sent him a playful smirk as you walked past him. “Why, thank you. That was almost gentlemanly of you.”

“Keep up the smart ass remarks and m’shootin’ an arrow into yer behind.”

[foreingersgod]

End of the Day . CC

pairing: caitlin clark x reader

synopsis: caitlin’s rookie year hasn’t been going as smoothly as she had planned and it’s starting to take a toll on her. at least she has you there for her at the end of every game

WARNING: by no means, because i’m defending caitlin, will i tolerate any sort of racism/sexism on this post or on my page in general. just because we want to support her doesn’t mean we need to say completely unnecessary and racist things about other players. if there is anything of the sort, you will be blocked! this post has nothing to do with ANYONE except caitlin so please remember to be kind and respectful! this fic is meant to be a cute hurt/comfort scenario about struggling as a rookie, please don’t make it into something it’s not :)

every game was agonizing for you to watch. whether you were sat on the couch in front of the TV or sitting somewhere up in the stands, watching caitlin take hit after hit was too much for you to watch. it broke your heart every single time, knowing that with each passing game, it was harder and harder for her to stay optimistic. your sweet and energetic girlfriend now seemed completely wiped out and drained. you heard her meek responses to the press, claiming that it was all “just how basketball was”, but you knew her better than that. you knew it was starting to take a toll on her, caitlin would never call something like this just part of the game.

you often had to close your eyes while watching these games. you hated the way they pushed her around like she was anything less of a player, how she would fall to the ground and squeeze her eyes shut in pain. it made your blood boil to see how much pain she was in. the urge to march down to the court floors and take on these women head on was constantly sitting in the back of your mind. there had been times you had to step outside of the stadium to take a breathe, trying to reassure yourself that cailtin was alright and had it under control.

and she did, she had gotten quite good at keeping a relaxed demeanor despite the physicality on the court. there were times were she would slip up though, letting her temper get the best of her, but she never took it too far and always reminded you that she could handle it. you knew deep down that caitlin only stayed so calm because of you. the last thing she wanted was to upset or worry you, make a big scene that she knew you’d evidently witness. as much as caitlin wanted to scream and argue and fight back, she couldn’t bare the thought of you watching her lose her cool. so she suffered in silence, something she had a habit of, aware of how mad it made you. you wanted nothing more than to comfort her in these times of need, but she was too stubborn to cave in.

it wasn’t until tonight, though, that she had finally reached her breaking point. this last game being the straw that broke the camels back. you hadn’t known what it was, whether it was the flagrant foul or the snide comments made off the court, but it cut caitlin deeper than the rest. unfortunately, you weren’t able to attend this particular game. work ended up being crazy busy and you had to stay longer, cutting into about 30 minutes of game time. you had warned caitlin before the game started, letting her know that you would be watching her from home and that you’d be cheering her on like always.

you don’t think you could get the image out of your head, the moment replaying in your head well after the game had ended. you had settled down on the couch with your ‘22’ t-shirt on and a loose blanket thrown over your lap, watching the game with your jaw clenched. you wanted so badly to stay hopeful tonight, trying to keep a positive mindset. but as the 3rd quarter rolled around, your hopes were quickly diminished. you watched one of the opponents come up behind caitlin, decking her in the shoulder so hard that she was thrown relentlessly to the ground. you cringed in dismay. you sat through the remnants of the game totally gutted for your girlfriend knowing that she’d be beating herself up when she walked through the doors of your home.

once the game had ended, you moseyed your way to the bedroom. after your nightly routine you crawled into bed and pulled out your book, waiting for caitlin’s arrival. you hated when she wasn’t here, the bed colder and lonelier than you’d have liked. it was hard to focus on the words littered across the novels pages as anticipation spread through your body. about 30 minutes had passed when you finally heard the obnoxious screeching of the front doors hinges. a wave of relief washed over you as you listened to familiar foot steps trail throughout the kitchen, eventually padding their way up the stairs.

then she came into view, pushing your bedroom door open quietly. she had assumed you were asleep by now and didn’t want to wake you by being too loud. your head perked up, the book long forgotten somewhere on the sheets as you took in the sight of your girlfriend. she looked burned out, a sad expression chiseled into her features. her hair was messy, cheeks flushed and pale-you assumed had been from crying. she hadn’t noticed you right away, only looking up when you called out her name.

“cait…” you breathed, unsure of what to say. she was clearly bothered, on the verge of tears. normally she’d come home and brush it off, saying that she just needed you and she’d be ok, but tonight was different. she looked inconsolable, standing there at the end of the bed.

“oh, hey baby,” she faked a smile, now dragging her feet to her side of the bed to get changed “you’re up”

“yea,” you offered a smile in return “you know i can’t sleep without you”

the small comment seemed to entice a genuine smile out of her this time, seeing how her lips turned upwards slightly as she pulled a clean tshirt over her head. she joined you in bed, sliding one leg underneath yours to feel the smallest bit of touch from you.

“hey i-uh,” you shook your head. this was a delicate matter that you didn’t know how to approach “i watched the game, cait”

“mhm,” she hummed, now pulling out her phone to mindlessly scroll through social media. possibly to distract her, but seeing the nasty comments about earlier tonight certainly wasn’t going to help.

you weren’t satisfied with her avoidance, deciding to prod further. you couldn’t watch her suffer like this any longer.

“baby,” you said softly, your tone somewhat stern to grab her attention. a gentle hand made its way to her wrist, pushing the phone from her grasp and into her lap “i think we should talk about the elephant in the room”

“i really don’t…” she muttered, her voice shaking “it’s fine, you know me”

“but caitlin, it’s not” you maneuvered around the bed, turning around and pulling your knees to your chest so you could fully face her. she laid her head back on the headboard, tilting her jaw away from you “you always say that, and i know you’re strong and can handle it. but tonight wasn’t ok and i know you know that”

you noticed the way her muscles tensed, preparing for a conversation she wished she would never have to have. you reached over to her, hand resting on her thigh as you rubbed soothingly. she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed deeply to hold back tears. but it was no use, she was already hiccuping as sobs racked her body. you felt like your heart was being ripped from your chest. she hardly cried, and when she did, it was never like this.

“it’s whatever,” she couldn’t bring herself to look at you, beating herself up for even being upset in the first place “that’s just how it is, i’m the rookie and-”

“caitlin, stop” you begged, knowing where this was going. she was trying to brush it off once again. you disregarded her thigh, now moving even closer to her to place a hand on her cheek “that’s not just ‘how it is’, you’re allowed to be upset when you get quite literally shoved to the ground. and you’ve got too much on your plate right now, there’s a lot going on”

“i just-i don’t want…” the tears kept coming as she melted into your touch, the weight of her head leaning into your hand “i’m sorry”

“for what, baby?” you ran your thumb across her cheekbone “you have nothing to be sorry about”

“for all of this,” she exhaled, opening her eyes to actually look at you. her eyes slightly red, wet streaks running down her cheeks “for being upset like this, you shouldn’t have to sit here for this, i’m just being dramatic”

“you’re not being dramatic,” you butted in “got it? you shouldn’t have to feel sorry for being upset about something like this and i’ll have you know-i’m more than happy to be a shoulder to cry on, it’s what i’m here for. you can be respectful and reserved on the court and to the press, but you should never apologize for coming home and being vulnerable. especially with me”

a wave of silence washed over the room, caitlin’s exasperated sniffles being the only sound. she took a deep breath before continuing, gaze flickering down to her hands that were now fidgeting in her lap.

“i hate it so much,” she said, tears now only coming down harder “it was fine at first, but…but it’s just too much, i can’t”

“hey hey hey, it’s ok” you closed any distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around her and bringing her in your chest. she instantly buried her head underneath your chin, allowing you to run your fingers through her hair and rub her back comfortingly “i know, baby it’s gonna be ok”

“i thought i could handle it, you know?” her voice was small, strained even. the collar of your shirt now damp, her lengthy fingers grabbing desperately at your sides for comfort “but it’s hard to process it all…like sure, being the rookie’s hard, but…but for some reason it’s just way more difficult than i imagined. and getting shoved around sucks, but it’s not even that. i don’t know how to explain it…im just so-so frustrated”

you listened attentively, giving your two cents when it was needed, humming in agreement as she ranted. you let her get it all out, hoping that this would help take some of the weight of her chest. her stubbornness to talk about things like this caused her a great deal of pain in the end, and you’d do anything in your power (even if it were sitting here like this all night) to ease her worries. you couldn’t describe how proud of her you were, grateful that she was trusting you enough to tell you how she truly felt.

“i think i’m just so overwhelmed with everything…with press, with all these expectations, with games…all of it has just been hammering down on me and it’s really fucked me up” she finished, taking a gasp of air after she poured her entire heart out to you.

“i get it, babe” you concurred “being new is hard and i can’t even imagine how much pressure you’ve been putting on yourself over this past year. and you know i don’t know much about the game and all that, but…but what i can say is, is that you aren’t alone. you have so many people who love you and support and are here for whenever you have days like this. neither me, your friends and teammates, your family, or even your fans expect you to walk out of the season like it was nothing. this is supposed to be hard and you’re supposed to have emotions like this. i love you more than anything and i need you to know that i’m here for you through all of this, alright?”

she sat up from being curled into your embrace for what felt like hours. her tears were now mostly dry, although her nose was still a light shade of pink from the congestion. another exasperated breath tumbled from her lips as she urgently grabbed both sides of your face, leaning into you. her lips met with yours in haste. she kissed you deeply, a small whimper emitting from her throat.

“i genuinely don’t know what i’d do without you,” she said, resting her forehead on yours, your hands cupping hers as they stayed firm to your face “you always know what to say, thank you for listening and being there for me”

you laughed, grinning as you looked into her gorgeous eyes “anytime, anywhere, no matter what. i’m so proud of you babe”

after a few more words were passed between the two of you, it was decided that you both were in dire need of some rest. caitlin was tired enough as it is, coming home and letting all of her emotions go had to have been even more exhausting. getting under the covers, caitlin moved down the bed so that she could rest her head just above your stomach, the sound of your heartbeat easing her stress.

“i love you so much” she yawned, fingers snaking underneath your shirt to run along your soft skin.

“i love you too, cait” you sighed, finally letting sleep take over your body.

[galene-gothic]

𝖶𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗂𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back with another Barbie princess and the pauper themed reading !! I hope this reading found you in good health and that you like it, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES (summer sale and offers)

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

You’ve experienced an ending (possibly even multiple ones) that were very heavy. It was the kind of ending (or a string of them) that came with a lot of pain and hurt but was inevitable, something that could simply not be saved. For many of you a lot of backstabbing and betrayal took place, possibly people bitching too. It could have very well been a whole group of people disliking you or turning against you. I’m strongly getting that you’ve often experienced people not liking you for any reason at all. For many of you, all of this took place at the same time (betrayal, people disliking you for no reason, etc.) You’ve lost a lot or at least feel a strong sense of loss (or have had to feel that way at some point). You have many deep wounds and right now, life seems to be more peaceful for you. However, you’re worn out, tired and disappointed. I need to give you a virtual pat on the back for the way you seem to be handling the situation though. You let things end even though you had to reach the lowest possible point mentally. You allowed yourself time and space to heal and recover. You have always been the type to try your best so you were just like “nothing more can be done now, I tried my best”. Right now, you’re really focused on yourself and your own internal values. Your energy is still not the most harmonious but the way you’re dealing with things seems to make it all harmonious again. You have released many fears and are still doing so. ‘I look to you’ by Whitney Houston is coming through for some reason. You’ve reached a point where you have a harder time trusting people and doubt loyalty but it doesn’t seem to be negative, obviously there are days when the voices do get to you but you’re able to tame them. It’s just that going forward, you want to choose and do what’s best for you. You’re still struggling emotionally but it’s only so that you can do even better going forward and yes, you have dealt with this situation really well. You should be proud of yourself because some of us wouldn’t have been able to think straight if we were in your place. You seem to know that whatever you lost wasn’t that great to begin with and every loss of yours has only led to more wins but one thing that I need to make you aware of is that everyone who lost you has received the biggest L, even if at that time, they were having the time of their lives, you’ve clearly won. You’re free to begin again. What has passed has passed. You’re free to, in fact, you have every right to believe that being in your life and someone having you in their life is a privilege. You’re free to believe that trust needs to be earned. You’re free to believe that you’ve had a string of bad connections and that their words, and actions hurt you so you have every right to feel bad and not want anything to with them. You’re free to believe that you don’t have to fully forgive someone to move on. You’re free to stand up for yourself and not feel bad for doing so. Even if you made a mistake, if someone is going overboard with punishing you by treating you shitty and disrespecting you, you have every right to stand up for yourself as long as you’re still aware of what you did wrong and are holding yourself accountable instead of acting as though you’ve never hurt a fly. You’ve walked away and surrendered which is the best that you could have done, I’m proud of you. You’re free to not want to communicate maturely with those who refused to communicate maturely with you in the past. You’ve always had a personality where you don’t mind compromising for those you love and because it comes so naturally to you, you don’t even bother to voice it out.

However, just because you don’t talk the talk, instead you just walk the walk, people act as though your sacrifices were not big. You’re allowed to have resentments against people as long as you don’t burden yourself. You’re free to find peace in the fact that you’re a great and loving person who has never minded giving up their ego for a greater good, that you’ve always looked at yourself and your loved ones as a team and that’s not a bad quality, you just didn’t know better and had people who weren’t the same as you, around yourself and that’s okay. You’re free to believe and know that you were not being difficult or trying to pick fights, you were trying to fix things because you really cared and wanted to give, and do your best. You’re free to forgive yourself for not voicing out your needs sooner. You’re free to not want to forgive some people, you’re free to deny that you weren’t even involved with certain people if that’s what brings you peace. Remember that the past doesn’t even exist, no one can narrate and decide your story except you, and the truth is, people cannot exist in your reality unless you let them ;). You’re free to not have empathy for those who didn’t have empathy for you. You’re free to be rude and standoffish with those who deserve it. You’re free to believe that it’s okay for people to leave such a bitter taste in your mouth that you wouldn’t want to help them even if they were living out their last few days with a beating heart. You’re allowed to believe that you’re not always the bad person, no matter how much you’ve been villainised, you’ve always tried to watch your actions and when you did make mistakes, you always tried to make up for them, and usually, you didn’t even do anything wrong. You’ve often had people hate you because they’re envious of and feel inferior to you in some way but then they try to make it seem as though it’s your mistakes and actions that they hate you for. You’ve had people trying to isolate you, you’ve had people telling mutuals not to talk to you, you’ve had people trying to turn people against you just for the thrill of putting you down because it’s fun to try to bring down someone who they feel inferior to, it makes them feel superior, watching you question yourself but what they don’t seem to know is that you question yourself to better yourself because you don’t view mistakes as unforgivable sins, you want to take accountability, make amends, do whatever you can to repair the damage that you may have done and do better in the future instead of drowning in self guilt like they want you to 😭. Even if you did temporarily fall into self guilt, you managed to come right out and you always will. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person, you’re free to have faith in your own greatness and embrace your mistakes in a way where you put it all behind yourself, understand that however others have treated you has been wrong as well. You’re free to believe that you’re a good person no matter how many unethical things you may have done, no matter how much others have tried to villainise you. You’re allowed to be cold to those who used your mistakes to try to get you to break. If I was you, I would avoid doing anything that I could possibly regret doing in the future. You’re free to understand that many of your past actions have been shitty but those who jumped to try and knock you down to a peg were not saints either. If they did have a problem with what you did, they would discuss your actions, not your character, they just had a problem with you, and they would sure as hell not gang up against and isolate you. You are allowed to leave your past behind (including any of the actions that you’re not proud of) and do better in the future. Just remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to believe. When you find the place where your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is to be seen. Many of you are interested in lifestyles that bring about a lot of eyes on you (possibly being a public figure). I don’t even think that you need to be known on a wide scale, it’s about the expression and success for you. You want to be able to make people happy and help them remain optimistic during hard times. You’re also supposed to be very generous. I just heard that the destiny that’s written in your heart is to belong to everyone, not in a negative way but in a way where everyone has a piece of the good deeds you’ve done inside their hearts and so you belong to them in some capacity. You’re supposed to have a lot of personal integrity and just be an abundant person overall. Even if you are not a public figure or an aspiring one, you’re supposed to be the light in many people’s lives. Due to how you’re going to belong to everyone, you’re also going to have to prioritise your alone time. To you, the time that you spend by yourself is going to be very precious. There are going to be people who are going to want to come into your life in order to dim your light and you’re going to have to find peace in life again and again. YES, PEOPLE ARE GOING TO ACTIVELY TRY TO ADD LACK OF PEACE INTO YOUR LIFE 😍. You’re meant to grow to be someone who’s not really that problematic. Which is why, you may have to step out of character a lot as a teen and early adult, you’ll have to learn how to stay firm in wanting to protect your peace and keep your character strong. Your destiny is to remain firm in your karma and have a strong sense of integrity. You’re supposed to learn how to protect your energy because you will have a lifestyle where you sort of belong to everyone but that’s not realistic, there are only certain people who deserve you in their lives, so you’ll have to learn how to balance it all. Karma is really big in your spread. You’re someone who’s experienced karma, often immediately. You’re supposed to learn many life lessons and lead a life of integrity. Your destiny if you manage to harness it, is to attain status and power but you’ll consistently have to work on balancing different aspects of your life (because you’re going to have it all). I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

Right away, you could be coming from pile 1. If not, much like the previous pile, you’ve undergone an ending too. Yes, this is in fact the ending of whatever situation or situations that took place but that’s the good news, that’s what you’re free to begin from again. When you’re at the lowest, the only place to go to is upwards ;). Who had potato and egg curry/likes it? Maybe, someone here is going to cook it or the dish holds some significance to you? It just randomly came through, doesn’t have to resonate for everyone. The ending doesn’t seem to be singular honestly, I feel like there was a whole cycle of multiple endings that took place but with many delays. If you ever find yourself feeling guilty about not getting over it or feel as though it’s your fault because you delayed these cycles, please be kinder to yourself. When things end, you’re left empty but what happens when a container is left empty? It gives room for new stuff to fill up that space. It’s important for you to not dwell on this ending - the guilt of not ending it sooner, wishing it had never ended, the emptiness you feel, etc. You’re free to begin from everything you’ve ever known because there is so much more in the future, in fact, even in the present itself for you to know. If you’re refusing to end a cycle, you’re only making it harder on yourself, I hope that you’ll be able to start again, no matter how much time it may take. Some of you feel guilty towards yourself because you know that you’re over it, you’re just not letting yourself let go completely. It’s become a habit to think about it, feel certain emotions when you reminisce so it feels foreign for you to move on and feel peace. Even if you’re still emotionally attached to the past, make the conscious effort to move forward. Please remember “no closure is a closure”. No matter how stagnant you feel or have felt, no matter how long you’ve felt it for, no matter how familiar the feeling is to you, you’re free to get out of this energy. Even if you feel as though you were unable to make the most out of your potential so far, even if you feel as though you haven’t achieved much, no matter how disappointed you’ve felt in yourself, don’t burden yourself with such feelings. You’re free to move on and achieve a lot going forward. “Though you may not know where your gifts may lead and it may not show in the start, when you live your dream, you’ll find destiny is written in your heart.” Why are you so concerned about everyone? Why do you try to make things right with your actions even if you aren’t interested in maintaining certain connections? It’s because you’ve achieved a lot when it comes to character. If you feel misunderstood even though you’ve done a lot for others without even talking about it because that’s just you, if you felt betrayed, it’s them, not you. Fight against their opinions, they just dislike how you stand for the things that wish they stood for, they also dislike how you are the way they wish to be in some capacity.

Continue soaring forward with courage, resilience and conviction. You’re allowed to want what you want without always having to adjust to other people’s needs, desires, personalities, lifestyles and actions. Even if you may feel like you’ve betrayed yourself in the past, know that you were living by your truth of loving and keeping your actions in check, you’re always free to begin again and live more truthfully to yourself. In fact, now you know a lot more than you did back then, isn’t that in itself a blessing? Never let anyone influence you and your approach to interpersonal connections. You’re likely a more long term kinda person due to how much you pour into everything and everyone. You’re free to believe that you’re a great person even if you aren’t breaking your leg to please others. At this point, you likely know well enough about that because you seem to have a pretty strong sense of self or are developing it (and have been making good progress with it). You’re free to stand up for yourself and your beliefs. It’s time to be your most honest and authentic self now. You’ve likely started feeling called to it already. No matter how much pressure is placed upon you or how much you’re criticised or blamed, you’re allowed to believe in yourself. You’re allowed to have boundaries and to be fairly protective of yourself. You’re allowed to want to be pursued and want to be courted romantically. You’re allowed to desire to be wooed off your feet xD. You’re allowed to follow whatever your heart’s calling is. You’re allowed to move forward acting more graceful and strong in character and even physically if you’d like. You’re allowed to move your attention onto better things if whatever you’re focused on is affecting you negatively. You’re allowed to repeat mistakes as long as you manage to learn from them in the end. “I think all of us wanna feel something that we’ve forgotten or turned our backs on because maybe we didn’t realise how much we were leaving behind.” It’s okay to make sacrifices, it’s okay to make wrong decisions, it’s okay to learn, that’s how life is. You’re free to desire and believe in a true and deep love connection that you know exists because you’re full of the love that you wish to receive. You’re free to desire a deep connection full of mutual admiration, respect and love. You’re free to want to share your life with someone, just make sure that you’re not going into it with desperation. Your standards are not too high as long as you know that you’re asking for what you can give out. You’re free to want to be around wise people. You’re free to want to have a romantic connection with someone controlled, wise, ethical and respectable. You don’t have to feel bad about taking certain things seriously even if those around you don’t. Like supposing sex is a big thing for you, in this generation that’s kind of rare but it’s okay, do right by yourself. You’re free to have an impartial judgment in the beginning for your own good. You’re free to vet out and choose who deserves to be in your life and who doesn’t. It’s okay to want to strengthen your own character and reputation. You’re free to craft yourself and your life however you want, it’s your life to live.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is to leave the past behind. You’re the pile that will either deal with extreme loneliness or isolation of some sort that will only lead to you changing and growing emotionally. If you feel like most things have not worked out for you, please just know that whatever has not worked out is exactly why thing’s are working out for you, you’re going to see it while you’re living your destiny. Somehow, no matter what you go through, no matter how many times you’re hurt, betrayed, etc. you are meant to only continue to become more loving. The more you hurt, the more you learn how to love (yourself and others) is the energy that I’m getting. It’s important for you to be in touch with the present rather than staying stuck on anything from the past, don’t even hold onto the regrets, that’s how you’re blocking your own destiny. You might be the pile that got shamed for being emotional at some point and being too nonchalant at another, you’re going to get closer to yourself which will ultimately lead you to being more in tune with your own emotional nature. The more you’ll grow, the more you’ll embrace and learn just how much of a blessing it is to choose to be ever loving in a bitter world that wants you to be bitter as well. The way you are, your sensitive nature, the way you feel, the way you love, the amount of devotion and loyalty you give out has led you to being hurt, disappointed and regretful several times. There have been times when people have terribly embarrassed because you tried to see the best in them. The clown emoji is coming through, gosh 🤡😭. However, the destiny that’s written in your heart is strongly intertwined with loving and loyalty, you value genuine connections and are extremely compassionate, as you grow older, you’ll learn how to not make everyone’s problems your own. You’re meant to learn healthy boundaries as you grow older, you’ll learn how to extend your love and compassion towards yourself, that’s how you’ll unlock a major part of your destiny. You’re supposed to come in terms with the fact that maybe you weren’t the problem after all. You seem to have taken “the world is your family” too literally, you take on everyone’s problems and sorrows, and try to love and help everyone. Especially when younger, that was what you were like.

As you grow older and finally realise that maybe you weren’t the problem after all, you’ll start seizing opportunities as you let go of regret. It’s going to be a bittersweet but beautiful time. No matter what you may go through, you’ll only gain more self awareness due to it. You’ll start focusing on the more positive aspects of life and yourself. You’ll eventually start having gratitude and find your zest for life again. You’ll learn that you’re not everyone’s mother or caregiver and that what you bring to the table, and who you are is deeply valuable. You’re destined to learn just a little selfishness, not in a sense of only caring about yourself but in a sense of putting yourself first. I’m not sure why but your sex drive keeps on coming through. You either masturbate quite a bit or well, just have a high libido xD. You might have started masturbating much younger than most as well. Doesn’t have to resonate but that’s what came through. I wouldn’t be surprised if this pile has a mother wound or just female figures being unsupportive and problematic towards you. It’s definitely not going to be everyone but you may find yourself having a bad experience with many female figures while growing up. It could be something as simple as you think that you’re good with a certain girl or woman just to find out that they dislike you. You’re meant to have it all, abundance in the truest senses. That’s the destiny that’s written in your heart. You may be the pile that’s not afraid to dream and not just dream but also try your best to execute it. If you have to give up on your dreams for whatever reason, you may feel terribly wrong from within. The destiny that’s written in your heart is a lot of domestic bliss as well. You’re meant to have people who accept and understand your differences in your life. You’re meant to be emotionally content. The reason why you have a hard time with short term, casual stuff is because you’re meant to experience long term deep attachments. The reason you’re so loyal, feel so deeply and know how to be dedicated is because you’re supposed to find worthy enough people to form such lovely and long term connections with. You’re passionate, don’t even try to suppress that true nature of yours by trying to explore some half hearted stuff. You’re well rounded so you’re meant to experience a well rounded life - a blissful home life, a great career, a strong personality and being proud of yourself, you’re meant to have it all. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Where are you free to begin again and believe ? ꒱

This could be the pile that may have lost their way temporarily or were unable to focus on things that mattered at some point (education, money, career, etc.) You’re free to start again when it comes to education and your goals (educational, career, character, skills, so on and so forth). It’s time for you to believe in your own maturity and sense of independence. You’re free to begin again no matter how many times you may have quit or lost your path. You’re a very responsible person who is focused on building something for yourself right now. You’re free to take on this identity wholly and start/continue showing up consistently for yourself. Maybe you used to be like this as a child, you had all your priorities in place but as you grew up, you started burning out or something just caused you to stray off your path. It’s okay, as long as you get back on track. You’ve always been a very helping and trustworthy person with a strong will. You used to be really reliable, responsible and ambitious even as a kid. Even if you feel like you’ve disappointed yourself, it’s never too late to get back to yourself and your goals. Believe in and stay firm in your own karma (actions/deeds). A routine would really help you. You’re free to start trying to make the most out of your potential. Maybe, you were pushed into a period of solitude causing you to realise that you need to get back on track? It doesn’t have to be for everyone, it’s only for a select few of you. You might have ended up overindulging at some point when younger which led you to straying from your path. It could be an overindulgence of anything - liquor, heartbreak, friends, freedom, etc. You may have wasted that time but the fact that you know what it feels like to enter such an energy means that you’ll avoid it going forward. It’s good that you’ve managed to live such different lifestyles and take on such different identities, just to get back to being yourself and realising that you always knew who you were, and that life is a lot about having the courage to live as who you truly are. If you don’t have a social life or have too much of it (envy, rivalry, lack of approval but also people around you) causing you to either think too much or not have enough space to think, just remember that you’re free to begin again. If you don’t have much of a social life currently, you’ve dealt with envy, rivalry, lack of approval, disappointments, end of friendships, etc. before.

Some of you may be going through it right now, if yes, you’re free to begin again, trust me, it’s going to get better ;). You’re free to believe that your next relationships (platonic and romantic) are going to be great ones. You’re free to believe that change is coming in and it’s going to be big, and in the best way possible. Patience is important here though. Don’t settle and don’t give into desperation or urges of any sort. You’re free to begin again when it comes to self improvement. You’re free to put the past behind you and patiently make the most out of the present while looking forward to a bright future. You’re free to explore and expand beyond what you thought your interests and aesthetics were limited to. You’re free to claim fulfilment. You’ve overcome so much, give yourself a little pat on the shoulder, will you? You’re allowed to go with the flow of things while consistently working on whatever you want. Consistency and patience are guaranteed to reward you as long as you use your brain and abilities to the fullest. Plan but don’t stay stuck on the planning phase. You’re doing so well, please be proud of yourself as well. While others may talk about how much they’ve done, how they are, like they may really boast it, you don’t boast because that’s just innately in you and why would you boast about something that’s just natural to you? BUT THEY’RE REALLY BIG TRAITS AND THINGS IN REAL LIFE! You’re free to let go of extremism in order to find peace. You’re free to make peace with situations even if they were one sided. You’re free to reprioritise and have faith in your priorities even if your priorities were not in the right places for a while. You’re free to move on from the life that was not flowing correctly. You’re free to heal completely even if no one witnessed it and you’re free to feel proud of yourself even if there was no one to witness how much you’ve grown. All work, no play will make you a dull one, please try to strike a good balance between studies/work and life. You’re free to try to manage life better. Your past does not exist, it does not matter. Believe in yourself and your dreams, your hopes and wishes will come true as long as you’re willing to work for them. You’re free to move forward with more confidence and passion, grabbing opportunities and communicating well. You’re likely already a great communicator, if not through speech, it may be through writing but believe in yourself, it’s better to go after the life you want rather than convincing yourself that you’re happy with an average life. Remember, you’re always free to begin again and you’re always free to begin, when you find the place that your heart belongs, you’ll never leave.

꒰ What’s the destiny that’s written in your heart ? ꒱

The destiny that’s written in your heart is quite interesting. You’ve always desired to be looked up to. There’s something traditional and old school that you want, the old school romance, the old school love, the old school family, whatever it may be. It’s because it’s in your destiny. You could be someone who doesn’t enjoy having jokes made about them or didn’t like them when younger. You do not appreciate being the butt of any joke due to how much you value mutual respect. It’s in your destiny to love and adore, and to be loved and adored. You’re likely the marriage type. You want an equal and all encompassing love in which your partner treats you like their own and you treat them like your own. You desire to operate with your partner as a team, a family, united and with each other instead of egoistic and against each other. It’s because you’re destined for that. You’re meant to have a reluctance to explore anything that’s not deep and intense (romantically). You’re meant to have moments when you feel unsuccessful, like you’ve not achieved much, like you’ve not been able to live up to your potential so that you can find it in you to strive towards it. At some point, you’re going to be like “I’ve always known who I am, who I want to be. I’ve always known what was right and yet I strayed off.” That was meant to happen so that you can be more confident in who you are. Due to your deep emotions and the way you feel responsible for everyone and everything, and you desire to have an ethical and good character, you tend to be confused a lot because people try to make you think that you’re doing something wrong? That’s the entire reason why you strayed off your path in the first place. You’re going to be pressured into making decisions without knowing what it is that you truly want. You’re going to find yourself being very emotionally overwhelmed at some point because you also have a tendency to feel things deeply. You won’t know what it is that you truly want. There will be a point where you’ll wonder if you even have faith in yourself at all. You might get severely betrayed at some point when younger, likely by multiple people but might have mixed feelings regarding them because the situations will just be so cloudy. Also, you’re a genuinely really good person so your desire for connection will lead you to treat people as if they are in the same team as you even if they aren’t because you will not be aware of it, you’ll have their best interests at heart but when all of this rose tinted glasses, confusion, fog or whatever you want to call it fades away, you’ll feel as though you lived in an illusion for a quite a while. You’re someone who has a lot of enemies due to your naturally great character. In this world, many people enjoy tearing each other down, you’ll have to learn how to strategically move through life. You’re able to be very strategic, it’s just that you have ethics and morals, and care about people so you try not to hurt them. You’re going to have to learn how to be yourself and follow your path unapologetically no matter who it hurts.

Many of your friends tend to envy you and want similar things that you want, possibly even love interests, don’t feel guilty about doing and choosing what’s best for you. Most of these people desire to be better than you because they do dislike you to some capacity, one more reason to not feel bad. You’re meant to be courageous enough to go for what you want, even if it might cause you to end up in scandals or ostracised because at the end, you manage to gain so much from it, in every way. “You need to be cold to be queen, keep your eyes on the price, Jenny Humphrey. You cannot make people love you but you can make them fear you.” You have had friends who turned out to be envious of you at some point. In fact, you often attract people like this but it does help you grow. You are going to learn how to be selfish with these people. With those who do deserve your love and view you as a team, you’re going to treat them as if they were you, you’re going to give them the best and will try your best to be there for them. Those who see and understand you are going to have your back at all times. You’re going to change and grow a lot through all the envy and one sided rivalry driven conflicts but that will only get you to be more morally driven. You’re going to become more empathetic, trustworthy and a great adviser to those who deserve it, and a selfish, cold person to those who don’t. That’s kind of your destiny because when you’re going to be all kind and giving, having the best interest of everyone at heart, viewing them as a team, they’re going to undervalue you and take you for granted. They’re going to abuse your generosity and giving nature, they’ll also be mean to you, as if nothing you give is enough for them, even though you’re probably the best that they will find but you’ll likely learn the lesson of putting yourself quite young (by your early twenties) because you’ll have already experienced a lot by then. You’re probably meant to be very charitable though. Also, the deep connections that you’ll have (both romantic and platonic) and I mean the healthy, non confusing and lasting ones, they’ll be sacred to you. Those people will understand you on a whole different level and will treat you with such care, it’s touching. You truly do deserve this kind of love. I’m so happy for you. When someone is like you, many will dislike you for your greatness while others will want to find both - more of your greatnesses and your weaknesses in order to love you, in order to have you in their life, in order to be in your life because they’ll see you as someone to treasure, because they’ll grow to love you more and more, the more they get to know you. This is sweet, isn’t it? You’re going to start craving strong and mutual love quite young and you’ll start having a mature approach to relationships. It’s likely because you spent quite some time in illusions while what you were giving out was very real so you’ll crave that same realness because you’ll know that you deserve it. Yes, you will receive it as long as you don’t bend into settling and staying stuck in illusions. All of this is the destiny that’s written in your heart. I hope that you enjoyed the reading and that it resonated, much love and take care, until next time 💗.

[heliads]

want you, need you - minho

Ever since you became a Med-Jack, Minho can't seem to stop collecting random injuries that absolutely require your attention. You might be catching on.

masterlist

The Med-Jack hut is either overwhelmingly busy or frustratingly slow, no in between. There are days when every single room in the place is crammed full of patients– somehow, every Slicer manages to cut themselves, and every Builder breaks a bone– and you wish you had picked any other job than this one. The busy days are rough. You start wondering what might happen if you stopped being able to put people back together as quickly as they fall apart. You think about the endless cycle of injury and healing until everyone wears out entirely, a map of bandages and skin pressed thin like dead leaves.

Those are the hopeless days. Then, you’ll have a dry spell, when everyone manages to get their stuff together and no one complains of sprained ankles or excessive sunburns. At that point, you start twiddling your thumbs and mindlessly organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies. By the end, you almost start wishing people would get hurt just so you’d have something to do. It’s an uncharitable thought, certainly, and one you regret once you’re stuck in the middle of another hurricane of aching Gladers, but when there’s nothing else to do, it comes nonetheless.

You’ve found yourself in the middle of another boring week. For the past few days, the Slicers have remembered how to hold their knives so they chop the animals and not themselves, the Builders hit their nails with their hammers instead of their thumbs, and the Runners don’t give themselves cramps and stay in perfect health.

Well. Not every Runner.

Even during the most boring stretches of your admittedly short career as a Med-Jack, you can guarantee that you’ll have one specific patient. Just like clockwork, every few days a certain dark-haired, teasing someone shadows your door, complaining of overworked tendons, pulled hamstrings, heatstroke, and every other medical condition under the sun. If Minho can think it up, he’ll say he’s got it.

It’s honestly becoming ridiculous. For someone who’s such a capable Runner, it is truly remarkable that he survives so many ailments. One would think he would give up running entirely if it gave him this much grief. Yet every day, Minho sets out for the Maze with a cheerful disposition, and at least two times a week, he appears in the Med-Jack hut, sporting some new injury that materialized at some point during the day.

So, when you look up from labeling the medicine cabinet for what must be the dozenth time this month, and realize that you haven’t seen the Keeper of the Runners in a few days, you know that it’s about time for him to come down with the flu, a severe migraine, or maybe both at once.

True to form, you’ve barely finished going through the medications on one shelf of the cabinet when Jeff, one of your fellow Med-Jacks, comes into the room. “You have a patient,” he says impatiently. “Guess who?”

You roll your eyes, although you can’t help a small smile. “Can’t you handle Minho yourself?”

Jeff gives you a look. “I tried. He told me he wanted to wait for a professional. Figures.”

You snort. “You’ve been here longer than I have.”

“I told him that,” Jeff complains. “This might surprise you, but he didn’t care.”

“Tell him again,” you say, turning back to the pill bottle you’re labeling. “I’m busy.”

Jeff heaves a dramatic sigh. “I’m not wasting my time with that. He’s your problem, go fix him.”

You shoot him a confused glance. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means,” Jeff retorts, reaching over to grab the bottle out of your hands. “Ever since you started here, Minho randomly comes over all the time. You know he used to hate visiting the Med-Jacks before you arrived? Now he can’t stop showing up.”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you protest weakly.

Jeff sighs again, so deeply you swat him on the shoulder. “That’s klunk and we both know it. The data doesn’t lie, Y/N.”

“There’s no data,” you argue, but Jeff’s already waving you out of the room. 

You make a face at him, then go down the hall until you find Minho waiting in one of the smaller rooms meant for patients. He’s poking at some supplies on a small table in a corner of the room, but he straightens up excitedly when he sees you.

“Doc! I’m so glad you’re here.”

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What have you done to yourself now, Minho?”

“That’s no way to treat a patient,” Minho frowns exaggeratedly. “Whatever happened to bedside manner?”

“You got bedside manner the first ten times you showed up for no reason,” you tell him pointedly. “After that, you get whatever I feel like. You should be happy I’m still giving you bandages. We only have so many, you know that? Maybe I’ll start charging you a fee.”

“I can pay,” Minho says lazily, leaning forward so you can feel his breath hot on the side of your face. One of his hands starts to curl around your side, pulling you closer to him.

Dangerous, he is. You idly push him away with your palm, pretending to examine the supplies he’d been poking at earlier so you have time for the heat to leave your face. “How about you just tell me what’s wrong with you this time?”

Minho sighs dramatically. “Well, since you care so much, I’ll have to tell you that I’ve broken an ankle. It hurts so bad. This might be it for me, Y/N.”

You arch a brow. “Which ankle?”

He pauses a moment, thinking. “Left.”

“You’re standing on it just fine right now,” you point out.

Immediately, Minho shifts all of his weight onto his right leg, grabbing the back of a nearby chair for support. “No, I’m not. Look, I can’t bear the pain. It hurts.”

You just look at him. Minho looks back at you, unable to stop the corners of his lips from curling up into a proud half-smile. “Do you really expect me to believe that?” You ask.

He gasps. “Y/N. Are you trying to discredit your own patients? Some Med-Jack you are. I bet Clint would trust me.”

“Then go talk to Clint,” you say, making for the door.

Minho hurries over, flinging out an arm to close the door before you can open it. “Wait, wait. I didn’t mean it, sweetheart. You’re the only Med-Jack for me, I swear it. Clint is nothing to me.”

You take an obvious glance towards his feet. “That ankle sure seems to be healing fast, huh? You moved over here like it was nothing.”

Minho leans his back against the door. “Alright, you got me. Nothing’s wrong with the ankle. Still, my lungs have been feeling exhausted lately, that might be something–”

“That’s because you run everywhere,” you say, grinning in spite of yourself at his antics. “Come on, Minho, you’ll have to get a better excuse someday.”

“My bad for wanting to see you,” he returns. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. I miss you,” he adds a little quietly.

It makes you smile in earnest this time. “So you’re here to be a good friend, then.”

“Yeah,” Minho says, and you might be kidding yourself but you swear he sounds almost disappointed, “A good friend. That’s me.”

You tap him gently on the arm to get him to move from the door. “How about I promise to find you straight after my shift ends, and you agree to leave without using any more of my medical supplies? Jeff’s going to kill you if we run through anymore bandages, I swear it.”

Minho pretends to think this over. “Straight after? You promise?”

“I promise,” you repeat. “So? Do we have a deal?”

“We do,” he intones solemnly, and at last lets you open the door and usher him out, but only after extracting one more promise that you won’t delay to talk to Newt or anyone else once Jeff lets you out.

When you get back to the storage room, you find Jeff waiting for you, grinning knowingly from ear to ear. It bothers you for some reason, not the fact that he’s on this topic again but worse, the thought that he might not be entirely wrong for it.

“Wipe that look off your face,” you mutter.

Jeff’s grin just broadens. “How was your star patient?”

“Fantastic,” you assure him, “And I’d be fantastic too, if you could stop bothering me with whatever weird thing you’re thinking about right now.”

Jeff shrugs exaggeratedly. “Of course. I don’t know why anyone would think about Minho being unable to go three days without talking to you. That would be crazy.”

“It would be,” you add darkly. People in the Glade have said that you have a tendency for killer death stares. However, Jeff seems to be impervious to it, because he just keeps sitting there, proud as anything, as if he were in the right about this.

As if. This isn’t the first time your friends have tried to suggest there’s something going on between you and Minho, and the honest truth is that nothing has happened at all. Yeah, Minho’s your best friend, and yeah, your days are significantly better when you see as much of him as possible. What about it? It doesn’t mean a thing. Life is hard. If you want to talk to the boy who makes you laugh like no one else, you should be able to do it in peace.

You can’t deny that the rumors stay on your mind, and recently, you haven’t been able to deny them with as much conviction as usual. You’re not blind, Minho is good-looking, and maybe you start thinking about something past friendship when he makes another excuse to get in your personal space when you’re sitting together by the fire or walking through the Glade. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it before, but as good as it might be to have Minho in every way that matters, you’ll still be perfectly happy with just the one. You can’t risk your friendship, even if, two drinks of Gally’s brew into a Bonfire Night, you start thinking about what it would be like to kiss him, or worse still, when Minho drops by the Med-Jack hut again, you convince yourself that maybe he’s not just doing it because he’s a good friend but because he wants you just like you want him.

It can’t be, though. For one thing, Minho is notoriously confident. If he liked you, he would have told you by now. You’ve seen him argue with Gally for the fun of it, not to mention the fact that he chose to be a Runner of all things. Minho lives on a constant adrenaline rush. Compared to what he does on a daily basis, confessing his feelings has to be nothing major. If he wanted to tell you, he would, and he hasn’t, so obviously there isn’t anything to tell at all.

For another, and this might just be in your own head, but Minho is so brave and capable that he seems to eclipse everything around him. Maybe it’s just the force of your own perspective, but you swear the entire Glade orbits around him. When he gets back from a run, he’s immediately swarmed by Gladers asking him about how it was, if he saw anything important. He’s always the first person people talk to, the immediate choice for a dinnertime companion. Minho could have anything he wanted in the Glade. So why would he want you?

You’ve managed to force the whole thing from your mind as best you can. Minho is your friend. At least you can have him like that, even if it kills you sometimes to look at him and imagine all the ways you would love him if he would just give you the chance. Any good medic can keep their feelings internal when they need it, and you’re the best there is.

You meet Minho later that night as promised, and you do your utmost to pretend everything is normal. You stay with him until the sun sinks below the horizon, until the Doors slam shut, until the moon begins its familiar path across the sky. You talk the whole while, idle chatter that occasionally drifts off into comfortable quiet. You’ve never been able to do that with anyone before, feel so at ease that you can stay silent for minutes at a time and have it not be awkward, but with Minho, it’s so simple. Then again, you can hardly remember anyone at all. Maybe there was someone in the past who mattered to you just as much as Minho does now. Even without your memories, though, that feels impossible. Minho could have no substitute, not to you.

You’re expecting the next day to pass in a breeze of idle hours, but around midafternoon, your dreary day of organization and the occasional bad paper cut is harshly interrupted by the sound of chaos outside. There’s shouting for a Med-Jack, and then several people are rushing someone in. It’s a Runner, apparently, you hear the details as you run for supplies. The Maze started moving during the day and he got hurt.

You can tell from the way people start nervously looking at you that it’s bad. At first, they don’t say any names, but then you burst into the chamber that serves as your operating room and you know that it’s worse than you could have possibly imagined, for not only does it seem like there’s enough blood to drench the Glade, but the victim isn’t Ben or one of the other Runners, it’s Minho. Your Minho. Your Minho, bleeding out on your table, who will need you to save him.

You stand there for one fragile moment, drenched in horror, then spring into action. Clint and Jeff have surfaced by now, and you direct them to anesthetize Minho. You want him to feel as little of this as possible. After carefully cutting open his shirt to determine the source of all that awful blood, you determine that it’s not as bad as you thought, more of a broad surface wound than a deep puncture. That much blood loss is dangerous, though, and he’ll need several stitches to close the flesh.

About an hour and a half later, you’re done. You and the other Med-Jacks lean back, panting heavily. Your hands and clothes are smeared with red, but color has crept back into Minho’s cheeks, and he’s starting to breathe evenly again.

“How long until he wakes up?” You ask Clint.

He checks a nearby clock, then Minho’s pulse. “Fifteen minutes, probably, but he won’t be fully conscious for up to an hour.”

You nod. “That’s good. Clear out, you guys. Get some rest.”

Jeff stops by you on the way out. “You can stay with him if you want. He’d be glad to see you when he wakes up.”

You let out a slow breath. “Thanks, Jeff.”

He pats you on the back then leaves to wash up. You spare the time to scrub your hands and get on a fresh change of clothes, but head back to Minho as soon as you can. Ben was with him when the accident happened, he said that everything happened so fast he hardly knew what went down. You don’t want Minho to wake up alone and confused, covered in bandages and unable to shake the scent of blood.

Once the immediate danger is over, you’re left sitting in a chair by Minho’s cot. His chest is swathed in bandages, but no red has flowered through them yet, which is a good sign. As you watch, the fingers on his right hand start to twitch. Clint said he would start to stir around now, and you’re glad to see the signs of movement. Watching him there– so still, so motionless– it made you wonder if he would wake up. It made you wonder if there was any way you could survive if he didn’t.

Minho is starting to make small sounds of distress under his breath, so you lean over and take his hand, squeezing it carefully but comfortingly. “Hey, hey. It’s me. You’re safe.”

You hear the ghost of your name in his whisper, and then Minho starts to quiet down again, restless rustles turning back into quiet breathing. You check his heart rate with your free hand and are glad to see it returning to normal, shaking off the lethargy of the anesthesia.

Minho sleeps for a little longer. Afraid to upset him, you keep your hand in his. You can tell when he wakes again, because his fingers start to press against yours. Consciousness comes upon him like a wave beating upon the shore. All of a sudden, his eyes are blinking open, and then he’s trying to sit up too fast and is forced back down to the cot by a bout of dizziness.

“Easy,” you tell him, pressing him back. “Don’t try to sit yet. The meds aren’t out of your system.”

“Y/N?” Minho asks, voice hoarse.

Hearing the scratchiness of his voice, so totally removed from the usual confident cadence of his words, makes your throat close up. “Yeah, it’s me. I’m here.”

“Hey, Doc,” he says roughly. “Jeff won’t give me klunk about the bandages now, will he?”

“No, he won’t,” you say, torn between laughter and outright sobs. “How do you feel? Any pain?”

“All good,” Minho tells you. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“Ben is fine,” you assure him. “You’re the one we’re worried about, Minho. I knew the Maze was dangerous, but like this–”

He cuts you off, squeezing your hand. “Hey, all in a day’s work. I knew the risks when I went in.”

You shake your head, hot tears starting to well up in your eyes. “No, no. This isn’t fair. You’re not supposed to get hurt during the day. Minho, I didn’t even know anything happened, and then they brought you in, and there was so much blood– I thought I was going to lose you, and I didn’t even get to tell you–”

Even in the midst of your tears, you have the presence of mind to stop yourself before you give yourself away. It’s just– the thought had not abandoned you the whole time he slept, even the whole time you operated, that you could lose him without ever having him at all.

Minho shakes his head as best he can. “I’m okay, sweetheart. I’m okay.”

“But you almost weren’t,” you whisper. “What if Ben hadn’t been able to get you back in time?”

You take a ragged breath, trying to keep the tears at bay, but it’s no use. Your shoulders shake, and Minho leans up slightly, as if drawn to it. To you.

“You’re pretty even when you cry,” Minho says, one hand weakly rising up to brush a tear from your cheek. “How is that fair?”

You laugh haltingly, in between the tears. “Barely awake five minutes, and you’re already flirting.”

He grins. “It’s all I want to do.”

If this were any other day, you would be able to brush off that comment, but something about this moment, this space– no one else in the room, Minho’s palm still tenderly cradling your cheek, your heart still erratic from the stress– you can’t help but turn the words over and over in your mind. All I want to do. All I want to do.

“Minho–” You start.

“Shh,” he says. “You already know that. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen through it. My smart girl. All those times I came to see you. Don’t say you haven’t realized.”

“Minho–”

“Newt says I’m being stupid. That I shouldn’t keep trying to have something that isn’t mine. But I’ll tell you something, Y/N, I’m selfish, and I’m greedy. I want you, and I don’t want to think about you with anyone else but me.”

Your breath is harsh in your chest, heart beating so loud you’re certain they must hear it echoing all across the Glade.

Minho’s eyes are fixed directly on yours. He sits up carefully, enough to reach his other hand up past your waist to the small of your back. “Tell me you don’t want me, or I’m not going to stop trying to keep you. Tell me to stop.”

Your lips part as you try to form an answer. Minho’s eyes dart down to the movement, and they only rise to your gaze with great reluctance. “I don’t want you to stop,” you tell him at last. “I want you, Minho. Only you.”

Two years now, you’ve known Minho. You’ve seen him proud and defiant, laughing and joyous and as happy as anyone could hope to be. Still, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile as brightly as he does right now, right before he kisses you.

Every touch is electric, and this is the most powerful of all. Your mind is reeling from the moment your lips meet, sending you far beyond the reaches of the Maze to the sky itself. You could be floating forever if you wanted, and you only start to gradually come back to earth when he slowly breaks away.

“Minho,” you say, hesitating over every syllable.

“Y/N,” he mimics, lips turned up in an irrepressible smile.

“They’re going to want to know that you’re awake. I promised I’d get the others,” you tell him.

He considers this for a moment. “They don’t need to know immediately, do they?”

You smile. “No.”

Minho’s eyes glint. “Then kiss me again. You can tell them after.”

It seems like a fair deal to you. You kiss him to make sure of it.

maze runner tag list: @blondsauduun, @ellobruv, @retvenkos, @neewtmas, @mayfieldss,

@hiya-itsamber, @gods-fools-heroes, @hope92100, @23victoria, @w1shes43, @imwaysthelastchoice, @fadedver, @il0vebeingdelulu

all tags list:

@wordsarelife

[gaysindistress]

Things that I feel like would happen when you’re in a relationship with Astarion.

I started playing bg3 and i have it bad for this vampiric menace of a man.

misc character masterlist

Warnings: blood drinking, he’s a vampire so yeah

1. He’s basically a cat but gods forbid you tell him that.

I have a tortie and let me tell ya, she is the sassiest animal I’ve ever met. This cat will climb into the closet just high enough that the dogs can see her but can’t reach her. She will jump into the counter and stare at me because she knows she’s not allowed up there. She will bat at the screen in the window until it pops open and she can escape. But jokes on you! she doesn’t actually escape, she just goes to the back door and meows until someone lets her in.

Anyways this is exactly how Astarion is. He’s sassy but hides it as being a witty nobleman when he’s really just being the sass master. He will do things purely to get a reaction out of people i.e. when he attacked you the first time you met. There was no need to try and pull one over on you like that but he did it anyways because he can. If you get too close to Gale (aka talk to him), he will pout and give you the cold shoulder because gale ‘is such a bore and I’m obviously better company than that, darling.’

He will make the biggest scene if he feels like your attention is being pulled away from him. Oh you’re talking to Shadowheart by the fire later than usual? He’s glowering at your back from his tent until you look over your shoulder at him. When you make eye contact, he’s going to roll his eyes and huff as he throws open the tent flaps. Shadowheart chuckles under her breath because she knows exactly what’s happening.

The longer you’ve known each other, the bolder he gets. He’ll add more each time. At first it’s just the staring and huffing. It moves to glaring at your companion and then waltzing over to you so he say something sassy like “I am not your mother. I should not have to drag you to bed each night.” When that stops getting the reaction he wants, he’ll plop down next you and make every annoyed noise known to man. He might even start to nudge you, extending out one delicate hand to touch your knee or elbow until you get the hint.

But don’t you dare call him out on this. Like a cat, Astarion needs to feek comfortable safe with you. If he gets even a whiff of negativity (or what he thinks is), it sets your relationship back weeks. Pointing out his little feline quirks will feel like you’re complaining or annoyed with him and he can’t handle it. He’ll pull away from you and resort back to his stand offish ways. He’s making sassy but lowkey hurtful comments all of the time. They’re not directed at you because he would never forgive himself if he upset you but that sentiment doesn’t extend to anyone else. Worst of all he won’t feed from you and would damn near starve himself before asking you.

It’s a delicate dance between the two of you but one you would never quit.

2. Feeding from you is difficult for him.

At first it was merely a means to an end but then you became more important to him and now he can’t bring himself to feed from you as much. He would rather never do it but alas blood is in limited supply and you’ve already given him permission to take what he needs. If he can, he finds some other way but it doesn’t always work out. You’ve never asked him why he seems to avoid such a normal task but it’s always on your mind and one night you blurt it out.

I imagine it’s been a long few days and tonight is the first time you’ve been able to relax. Freshly bathed, fed, and now sipping at decent wine, you’re lounging with Karlach and Shadowheart. The three of you have had more than enough wine to be relaxed and have passed over into what Astarion calls ‘delightful chaos’. You’re giggly enough to be entertaining but can still hold a conversation albeit slow and slurred. Your pale elf has been cranky all day and poor Gale has been the target for most of it. You tried to step in and at least lessen Astarion’s onslaught but that earned you the nastiest glare to date. Since then Astarion has been sulking in the shadows or hiding in his tent. You’re the only one brave enough to go near him when he’s like this however it’s still rather dangerous.

On clumsy feet you find yourself just outside of him tent where you can feel the brooding and angst wafting from inside.

“Astarion?” You gentle whisper to the fabric, awaiting his acknowledgment.

“What?” His response is short and biting, similar to how he’s been speaking at Gale.

Assuming he doesn’t realize that it’s you, you say his name again and ask if you can come in. He nearly brings his tent to the ground when he rips open the flaps.

“What?” He repeats with fury and pain in his dull eyes.

It should scare you, seeing him so feral and unrestrained but seeing him causes a wild smile to break out on your face. Your hands go to reach for his face but quickly they fall when you remember that everyone is watching you closely. Whatever wine you drank has given you an armor of courage (and stupidity really). You smile at him with all of the affection you harbor for this ethereal being and slide past him into his tent. The simple action sends everyone else into high alert while Astarion barely contains the hiss he wants to send their way.

When he turns around, he finds you already sitting beside his bedroll with your knees pulled up with your arms wrapped around them.

“What do you want?”

All he gets in response is a blink and then a beckoning to join you. Patting the space next to you, you quietly ask him to join you however he is determined to be cross with you for barging in. He repeats his early question with a hardened glower in your direction.

“Astarion…” you murmur to him, your voice low and gentle, “you need to feed.”

The sheer audacity to utter such a thing infuriates him to no end but you’re right. He does and the sanguine desire is growing far too large to hold in anymore.

He still tries to deny it but his words are unusually weak and he stumbles over each one.

“Come,” you order softly as you move to lay down on his bedroll and brush your hair away, “drink what you need. I trust you.”

Those three words are almost as powerful as a declaration of love to the vampire spawn. He finds himself crumble to the ground and crawl over your divine figure. The unholy need to devour you that he usually despises with his entire being is welcomed as his fangs sink into your neck. One of your hands comes to hold his shoulder and the other cradles the back of his head, keeping him close as he feeds from you. Your gentle touch and reassuring voice overwhelms poor Astarion. He begins to whimper and moan into the supple skin of your neck without even realizing it. When he pulls away to keep from completely draining you, he’s breathless and muttering to himself you how good you taste.

Why he would ever deny himself this divine experience?

3. He refuses to admit it that he loves when you initiate touch.

Because of his past, you’ve decided that you will only touch him if he asks and if you get explicit consent. Most of the time you wait until he invites you in some manner whether that be he telling you to get over here or paw at you like a cat. He appreciates it, he really does but sometimes he craves the feeling that he gets when you ask him.

His favorite, though, is when you ask him if you can lay in him when he reads. You’ve been napping in his tent on and off all day, having chosen to stay back and recoup after the long events from the past week. Most of your companions have been doing the same but Astarion has been trying his hardest to not spend too much time around you. It’s hard enough to not just bask in your affection but even more so when you’ve been cuddled up in his tent all day. When you finally decide to go to your own tent, he takes the opportunity to reclaim his bedroll. It smells of your sweet scent and is still warm from your body, something he secretly craves.

You return to his tent a few hours later after everyone has eaten and settled in for the night. Peering down at him with sleeping eyes, you cross your arms and huff when he ignores you for his reading.

“Yes, my dear?” He quietly chuckles while still pretending to read his book.

“You’re in my spot.”

“We’re in my tent therefore it is my spot.”

You can’t exactly argue with him. You plop down next to him and give him the biggest puppy eyes imaginable.

“Will you at least let me lay on you if you’re not going to move?”

If it could his heart would be doing flips and his cheeks would be red but alas neither thing is truly possible.

“That depends…” he pretends to be uninterested in your request and continues with his straight face as he flips to the next page in his book. He can hear your huff of annoyance and fails to hide the small smirk that tugs at his pale lips.

“On what?” You pry even though you both know this is just a little game and he’s going to give in.

“Ask me nicely.” He drawls in that low seductive voice he uses when he’s trying to persuade you. Finally he flickers his eyes over to yours. That simple action alone steals your breath and chases away any negative feelings you might’ve had.

You crawl closer to him, nearly touching him but not quite as you whisper your request again.

“Of course you can, my dear,” he whispers back while his smirk has fully taken over his face. “Lay your head here."

He pats his sternum and waits for you to settle. Much like a lover seeking warmth in the night, you immediately take refuge in his arms and cuddle as close as you can to him. You feel him set his the book on your upper back when you've found the comfort and warmth you sought.

Astarion begins to murmur the book’s words as his other hands rests at the base of your head. His fingers don’t yet feel confident in moving to thread into your hair but they do softly rub at the tension in your skull. Peace is found in your embrace and he couldn’t be happier that you asked him to join your party all those weeks ago.

[kolsmikaelson]

thinking about jerome when he’s dousing the bus full of cheerleaders in gasoline but he stops when he sees you, shivering in your seat with your eyes shut as tight as possible. just waiting for it to be your turn, only to open them slightly when you don’t feel anything. the scared look in your eyes is gone almost immediately when you see jerome, making an even bigger smirk rest on his face. you know it’s wrong but you can’t help your thighs from rubbing together, something jerome doesn’t miss. “you’re coming with me, pretty.”

before you know it, he’s got you pinned against the wall in some high-end penthouse, panties tugged to your ankles and little cheer skirt flipped over your ass. he licks a thick stripe up your core, his nose bumping against your clit as he’s all but making out with your pussy. 

“y’like that, pretty? being so good for me.” whines escaping you at the loss of his touch, “oh you poor thing, can’t handle it when i’m not touching you?”  

“mhm, feels so good.”

his fingers are still inside of you until that point, once those words pass through your lips he starts fucking them into you again. just before you’re able to cum he stops his movements suddenly and pulls out, shoving his fingers in your mouth before your whines reach his ears. 

“y’gonna be quiet while i fuck you, yeah, baby?” you nod feverishly, sucking his fingers farther into your mouth, tasting yourself on his skin. 

jerome slaps the head of his cock on your clit a couple of times before pushing into your warmth, jackhammering into you almost immediately. the drag of his cock against your walls causes your muffled moans and jeromes grunts to be the only sounds echoing in the room. 

he reaches around to your front, fingers finding you clit and rubs harsh circles on it. “when i’m done, ‘m gonna fuck you up against that window, let everyone see what a slut you are for me,” he smirks feeling you clench around him “yeah? y’like that idea, baby?” 

“mhm, please jerome, can i cum?”

“go ahead baby, cum all over my cock,” his thrusts become faster, but sloppier than before and you could tell he was on the verge of cumming. your orgasm sends jerome over the edge, seeing the white ring of cum at the base of his cock keeps him fucking you through your orgasm. 

jerome kisses you roughly, and then, “you’ve got ten minutes, then i’m keeping my promise.”

special tag for @valeskafics since he’s our man

[nat-without-a-g]

You know who he CAN try to kill to get out his anger while doing the only thing he knows how to do?

SCAM ACTUALLY FOR THAT PROPHECY SCAM

so how do we think Lark is doing after getting back from Heaven? like of course he's happy that everyone is safe, but...

the prophecy was a lie. Hero and Normal never needed to be trained. they never needed to be in DADDIES HQ. code purple could have been avoided.

more than that though, Lark was hoping so bad that he could redeem himself for unleashing the Doodler by killing it. but he didn't manage to do that, and a group of kids saved the day instead. the thing he dedicated his entire life to is over. there's one thing he's good at, killing monsters, and there aren't monsters to hunt anymore. I just can't imagine he's handling any of it particularly well.

[ruruvxz]

“Snowed In”

Idol!Huh Yunjin x Fem!Reader

↳ synopsis: Two girls with similar initials, cross paths at a packed grocery mart, both of you confined inside by the snow. Her soft red hair and her thick black glasses instantly catch your attention, if you didn't know any better you'd think she was a celebrity. Though a celebrity wouldn't steal your umbrella…

↳cw: dense reader, use of language, reader is really stupid like extremely, korean name is yujin for plot purposes, fluff

↳word count: 2.7k

a/n: I originally wrote this back in 2023 I posted this on Wattpad and it did not do numbers, but besides that I really enjoy writing about her since I feel like she’s soft??? Idk if that makes sense or if I’m yapping but enjoy (also this is heavily based on nana where both nana and hachi both have the same first name… sorry yall ur Korean name is now Yujin)

“Shit! This snow really got my ass packed in!” You groan in annoyance, how did you even manage to get stuck in a snowstorm, let alone get stuck in “EMART” of all places. Besides being stuck in this tight packed store you couldn’t help letting your eyes drift to the pretty girl next to you. To your horror it seemed like she understood your whining and was now chuckling at your anguish. Adding salt into your wounds, she happened to be holding your umbrella without a care in the world. You couldn’t just let that slide, of course you hated confrontation, but you couldn’t just let this woman take your property.

“Sorry to disturb you…" You spoke up turning your body fully towards the ginger-haired woman, whilst puffing up your chest to seem more intimidating. This certainly got the odd looking woman's attention, as she had now put all of her focus onto you. Lifting what was her attention on the window to stare deep into your ferocious gaze.

A little curious to what you had to say next she tilted her head curiously, strands of hair drooping onto her face while stopping at the bridge of her nose. "Me?" She questioned, pointing her index finger to the left side of her cheek. You stood in front of her, taking in her features, she was undoubtedly quite stunning. Her mole resting on the left side of her nose, her soft red hair, her pink lips, everything about her was breathtaking. Honestly, she looked stunning enough to be a model, or an idol, any of which she’d probably excel in.

Envisioning her as an idol, her face seems recognizable in a sense, like you’ve probably seen her somewhere in the media, or in those performances your roommate watches. Squinting your eyes at her face, trying to place a finger on why she looked so familiar, you cut yourself off with a cough. "Ahem." Snapping yourself out of your daze, you locked eyes on the umbrella then back at her.

"That umbrella, it’s— it’s mine." You spoke up, your voice a bit timid, but her laugh quickly caught you off guard. ‘Why the hell was she laughing, did she think I wouldn’t have caught her?’ You wondered to yourself, whatever this woman was laughing at you reached out your palm out, indicating for her to return it back to its rightful owner. She just stood there, red hair falling on her face still laughing. You heard her cough and fix her composure before being able to speak.

"Are you sure?" She cackled before continuing "I didn't know the umbrella with ‘Huh Yunjin’ engraved on the handle was yours." She began to bust out even more after saying this, you stood rooted in your place in embarrassment, shocked as you thought—no you knew that this "Cony the bunny" umbrella was yours.

You shook your head in disbelief before turning your full attention towards her "No— it's mine, this was an exclusive Line Friends item!" You argued trying to convince the red-head that this belonged to you, though the girl seemed to be indifferent. She too, looked adamant that this umbrella belonged to her.

“Look… if it were to be yours, it would've had your name on it. You're pretty, but you've got some temper." She giggled, not knowing what you'd do next. Though through the heat of the moment, you yanked it out of her hands and read the name on their handle.

"Aha! Look, it says Yujin L/N, not Yunjin, Yujin is my Korean name!" You pointed at the engraving, there in deep letters wrote, "Yujin L/N,". The redhead stared down at you for a good 30 seconds before her cheeks turned red, expecting her to walk away in embarrassment she just laughed placing her hands over yours as you gripped the umbrella.

“Hahahaha! God, I'm sorry— we just had similar names, I thought that this was mine!" She laughed once more, finally loosening up when you realized how contagious her laughter was. The way she spoke, it felt like she had no ill intentions with your umbrella. And before you knew it, you found yourself laughing with her, her hands intertwining with yours as you laughed together.

After the both of you laughed off that whole ordeal, you decided to go on an adventure to find her missing umbrella around this cramped convenience store. Luckily enough, it sat on an empty table near a window, and to your surprise, it was the same Cony umbrella, this time with 'Huh Yunjin' engraved on it.

Even if you didn’t know you've been subconsciously talking to her for what seemed like minutes (which was actually hours) as she was great company, not noticing the sun setting from the snow. Even if the world had snowed you into this tightly packed store, you didn't regret it one bit. As much as you hated to admit it, this was time well spent with the girl you’ve come to know as Yunjin. As was such a good sport about everything that had occurred today, and to be honest she was a great speaker, with such an interesting way of words, she could honestly be a public figure.

Though you found it a little odd that she avoided any conversation about what she does for a living, she brought amazing stories about places she's been that intrigued you. Like how she was born in Gangnam, but was raised in New York, so most of her early life was in the states. She talked about how she was in theatre, her passion for writing, and how she occasionally liked to dance. She talked more than you could, making it a little hard to process all this new information about a girl you just met but you didn't seem to mind, since, truth be told, you couldn't take your eyes off of her.

As she continued you watched the snow die down, and the workers rushed to clear the snow off the entryway. Yunjin couldn't help but notice it too, as she watched your gaze break from hers, her words began to die down finally stopping her story about some friend, whilst ending it with a sigh.

"I guess this is where we part ways." She mumbled staring at you, expecting you to not react,

"Hm?" You answered, confused as to why she looked so disappointed.

"I mean— at least you can go home right?" You added with a chuckle, your hands assisting you in getting up from your seat. "C'mon, you can't expect to stay here forever!" You joked, trying to lift Yunjin's spirits.

"You're right! It's just I haven't talked to anyone like this without the expectation of them wanting anything from me." She spoke her voice a little sorrowful, you watched as she sluggishly picked her umbrella and her beanie from the table. You studied her movements carefully. Yunjin pulled the beanie on her head, wrapped one of those surgical masks tightly around her mouth, and put the thick sunglasses around her eyes. You looked quite shocked, was she really worried about being cold, it looked like she was trying to hide from the weather.

"Yunjin... what are you doing?" You laughed, walking over to her, she looked at you confused. "If you dress like that, people will think you're some government spy."

She stood there defensively, "What do you mean?!" She scoffed, not expecting to be put on the spot like that.

"Yunjin if I didn’t know any better I would’ve probably mistaken you as some sort of celebrity— or robber… here look." You answered, you pulled her beanie off then swiftly taking off your claw clip, you bunched up her hair, and clipped your claw clip to form a messy version of a French Twist. You took off your scarf wrapped it around her neck neatly, and insisted she keep it.

"There, now you look like someone who's just got good style."

"Oh- wow! Are you saying I didn't have good style" she pouted under her mask. You nodded your head no and proceeded to laugh.

"Just saying you looked like someone trying to catch the wrong attention, and you don't want people taking pictures of you, do you? Besides you kind of look like those celebrities trying to hide their identity!” You laughed once again, covering your chuckle with your hand.

"And what if I was?" She asked, her playful tone completely changing.

"That would be so pretty fucking cool." You responded nonchalantly, not expecting anything more from that.

"Hey hypothetically, would you still be friends with someone famous?" Yunjin asked apprehensively.

"Why wouldn't I be? Not like it's affecting me. Also, are you asking if we're friends? Or if I would be cool BEING friends." you asked, completely ignoring the famous part.

"Oh! Uh, aren’t we already friends?" She asked, tilting her head a bit in confusion.

"No." You responded in a cold sarcastic tone.

"Ugh! And all that heartfelt talk for nothing!" She joked, letting out a little laugh before hugging you. You laughed with her as you both finally decided it was time to scurry back home. Before saying your goodbyes, she asked if you wanted her to drop you home. Yunjin didn’t want to admit to herself that she wanted to stay by your side a little longer. You agreed, not wanting to walk alone in the dark, she smiled happily but what you didn’t see was her mentally congratulating herself for scoring a few more minutes with you.

To Yunjin’s dismay though, it didn't take quite long to arrive at your destination, the supermarket was never really a long distance from the house you shared with some college roommates. It only took a few turns until you saw your quite home peeking out.

"This is my stop. Thanks for dropping me!" You spoke, standing right in front of the driveway. You hugged her goodbye before walking to the doorstep, inserting your keys the redhead stopped you.

"Hey! Wait! Y/N—" She spoke.

"Yeah?" Turning around back at her, your key already inserted in the lock.

"You... aren't seeing anyone right?"

"Nope, if I was I wouldn't be going to supermarkets alone, and making friends with people who steal my umbrella."

She chuckled loudly, getting the unwanted attention of your fellow nosy roommates. You watched as their heads peeked out the window. It was a surprise for you to make new friends, and it was even more surprising that you were bringing anyone home. "Funny. Haha." Yunjin spoke, full of sarcasm.

"You have Kakao Talk right? Give it to me, I'll add you Yunjin."

"Alright." She walked over to you and handed you her phone, you added her using the QR feature.

"Anyways, was that all you wanted to say?"

"Yeah— actually no."

“Ugh, you're driving me crazy Yunjin, what do you want to say?” You huffed your breath visible with the cold weather, the snow was really getting to your fingertips, it felt as if you were going to freeze to death.

"Well I should hurry up what I’m about to say then, you busy on Saturday?" Yunjin asked, a hint of discomfort in her voice as she feared your rejection.

"Yeah, I have work..."

“Oh." This was exactly what she feared, she sounded let down and turned around ready to walk off before you heard your roommate slam the window open.

"Y/N— You idiot!" Your roommate spat out at you, clearly ready to scold you from the upstairs window. "Yunjin— I mean, Y/N’s friend! She's not busy that day!"

Yunjin looked a little stunned that your roommate was peeking out of the window to scold you. "She isn't?"

"No, she isn't! She got— uhm— laid off! She's not busy she's far from that— she's a bum!" Your roommate lied through her teeth as she was trying so desperately to convince the redhead you weren't busy.

"Wait what? I haven't got laid off!" You rebuked, right before you were cut off once again, this time by Yunjin.

"Perfect! Let's get lunch together! On me."

You pried your eyes off of your nosy roommate and back to Yunjin who stared back at you with a cheerful grin. Your cheeks flushed, as you spoke up, a little flustered by how direct she was."Like a date?"

"Yeah, like that. You're cool, I wanted to get to know you more!"

"Oh!"

"Yeah! So I'll text you the details."

You stood there in shock, trying to process why this gorgeous woman would ask you out on a date. But before you could question her antics she spoke up, snapping out of the trance you were in. "Bye!" She giddily replied as she started walking off, holding her umbrella tightly in her hands.

"Wow! Okay! You're so bold Huh Yunjin!" You screamed out, trying to get her attention as your cheeks burned red, she couldn’t notice it of course.

"Only to the girls I like!" She spoke.

(I’m going insane)

[heyhiwhatsupdude]

Here’s a dumb thing I wrote enjoy. Astarion x Reader :3

(You were in a particular rough battle, one that ended in Withers needing to resurrect you, and Astarion is not happy)

His eyes are dark as life jolts back into your body. No longer are you in the cave in the Underdark where your life was torn from you, but lying in Astarion’s arms in a camp amidst glowing mushrooms. Crowded around you are your other companions, a mix of worry and relief hanging in their expressions. As you try to sit up, Astarion gently guides you.

“Are you alright, love?” He asks softly. You nod and start to stand up, stretching your recently replaced soul throughout all of your limbs, trying to make it fit back where it once had. Karlach extends a hand and helps you to your feet.

“Thought we lost you there, soldier,” she says, a weak laugh creeping out behind her words. “Fortunately for you this guy is better than us at healing.” She gestures over her shoulder at Withers, who seems rather uninterested in the whole ordeal. He nods slightly, and then continues to stare blankly ahead of him.

“Thanks, guys,” you say. You reach your hand up the back of your neck where in theory a gaping wound should still stand, but there isn’t so much as a scar. The sword that should have ended your life for good didn’t even leave a mark.

Astarion rises to his feet next to you, eyes still dark with something you can’t distinguish. Suddenly all of your other companions have somewhere else to be, quickly and awkwardly slipping away to their tents as Astarion stares you down, eyes taking in your every movement. Rather than ask him his thoughts, you silently begin to walk away from the camp, towards an area where your conversation will not be so easily overheard. After a moment you hear his footsteps follow you.

“What were you thinking?!?” His voice comes out in a hiss, anger seeping into his words. “Why would you do something so stupid?”

You turn to glance at Astarion. “It wasn’t stupid in the moment. I didn’t think he would be so fast.” Astarion tilts his chin up.

“But WHY did you have to do that? I was perfectly fine to handle myself!”

“Are you angry with me for trying to protect you?” Despite the haze of being resurrected, you still remember seeing the rush of a sword toward Astarion, and feeling your body move on its own. Though he may have been able to evade it, the blade meeting it’s mark on Astarion would have meant his certain doom as well.

“Yes. I am.” Astarion takes a step closer to you. “I would have been fine.”

You shake your head. “You don’t know that. It might have ended up like this anyway, someone being resurrected.”

“Something that we didn’t even know would work until just now. And might never work again!” He adds the second sentiment on hastily, pointing a finger at you.

“But it did work, and I’m fine now.”

Suddenly he can no longer contain himself.

“You didn’t have to watch you die!” Astarion shouts, his voice breaking. “You didn’t have to watch all of your blood rush from your neck, the life slip from your eyes. You didn’t have to watch as the only person who you have ever cared about crumple to the ground. And it was MY fault.” Tears spring from his eyes. “I thought I lost you forever, love. Hells, you DIED.”

Tears pour freely down his face, his voice catching in his throat. Tears well in your own eyes as well, knowing the hurt you have caused him, knowing you would have reacted the same had the situation been flipped, still further knowing that you did not regret your decision one bit.

“I would do it again, Astarion. For you.” He grabs your face in his hands, thumbs forcing your chin to tilt up, forcing your gaze to his.

“Don’t. Please, for my sake, don’t. I don’t care if you’re fine in the end. I cannot….. I cannot…” he buries his face in your neck as a sob cuts off his words. You wrap your arms around him gently. After a moment he regains his composure and whispers,

“I cannot bear to see you die again. Please. Don’t make me watch my worst nightmare a second time.” He pulls back, making sure you meet his gaze once again. “Please.”

“Okay,” you whisper. Astarion brushes his thumb across your lips before gently bringing them to his.

“Thank you, darling.”

You spend the rest of the night wrapped tightly in his embrace, his fingers tracing the back of your magically unscarred neck as though afraid your wound may reopen and steal you from him once again.

[its-alittleobsessed]

Could you imagine being Dean Winchester and constantly sacrificing everything for everyone else. Your food, your freedom, your happiness, and your free will for everyone else and then this guy comes in. This man who isn’t really a man.

He comes in when you’re at your lowest low. When you have succumbed and given your life, your hopes, and your morals to hell and he reaches you and touches you and says. You deserve good things. Means, I will make sure you get good things.

And you don’t believe him at first but then he says, I rebelled, Im hunted. I did it, all of it, for you. And not so much later, I’m doing this for you, Dean. And few years down the line, he gives up an army for you. And his own life a few times. And it gets to the point where you—who prides themselves on never needing anything or believing in anything—start needing him. Start having faith in him.

He stays and you realize that you’ve never had to sacrifice anything for that. For him to stay.

And he—this man who literally fell from the heavens—sacrifices all of it, including heaven, for you to stay.

And it is such a stark contrast to what you’re used to. Such an insane flip of everything you’ve ever known, that you don’t know how to deal with it. You don’t understand, don’t know how to handle it, so you try pushing him away. You yell and say ugly things and, once, (though you didn’t mean to—weren’t entirely yourself) you even hit him. And still. He sees all that bad inside you and all the bad you’ve done and he still. Stays. He still tries to stay.

It messes with your head. Something happens inside of you and you think—you think you might love him.

Maybe it’s all the sacrifices he’s done and the fact that you haven’t been able to match him up to them. But maybe it’s his kindness, too. And he’s funny in a weird—no one gets his humor but you—kind of way. He’s strong and capable. A good listener.

He’s—he’s beautiful, too. Devastatingly so.

He’s good with kids. He gets you. Likes your music and starts singing along to Zepp when its just you two in the car. He’s so much more than what he’s given you (he says the same thing about you) and you don’t deserve him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

It’s the sacrifices that are messing with your head, but maybe it’s just him too. Maybe he’s just everything you’ve ever wanted.

He says you don’t have to sacrifice anything anymore. Not with him. And for the first time since you were a kid—it’s true.

[fluentmoviequoter]

With You and For You

Requested by @newobsessionweekly! I hope you like it and sorry for the wait!🤍

Pairing: (soft)Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When you're involved in your first shooting, Tim tries to give you the comfort you need. You push him away until you realize why he's there.

Warnings: angst, r shoots someone in self-defence, fluff and comfort, depictions of fear and anxiety

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Your career in the LAPD has been, for the most part, uneventful. You got lucky with a good TO, passed your rookie exam, graduated to P2 easily, and fell in love. No one knows about the last one, and if they do find out before you’re ready, it will put you and your boyfriend at risk. You’ve stopped bringing it up because when you mention telling someone or going out together, he assures you that he’ll handle it when the time comes. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he’s scared that he won’t be able to stay with you once people know. You also agreed to transfer to another station if that would make everything easier; your career is good and your relationship is maturing, and, for now, that’s enough. Even if they are completely separate.

During another uneventful, routine day, you initiate a traffic stop. The Camaro you are now parked behind ran several red lights before entering a residential area, and you pulled the driver over before anyone was injured. After radioing the stop to dispatch and running the plate, you prepare to approach the driver’s window.

The car's glass is tinted, dark enough to make you assume it’s illegal, so you walk out wide. You gesture for the driver to roll the window down, but nothing happens. Laying your hand on your gun, you gesture once more. Finally, the window rolls down about halfway.

“Can I help you, officer?” the man asks. You don’t reply before he continues, “Here’s how I’ll help. Let me go with a warning and we’ll all be okay.”

“That’s not how this works. Let me see your hands,” you command.

“I’m trying to help you, officer,” he insists.

“And I’m telling you to let me see your hands. Both of them.”

“Get back in your car.”

“Hands!”

“Fine,” he replies, clicking his tongue as he reaches down quickly. “Here’s my hands.”

He rolls the window down the rest of the way and extends his arms out, with a revolver held steadily between them.

“Drop the weapon!” you yell.

You unholster your gun and raise it to chest height. Trapped, you know that if you lower your guard or try to run for cover, he’ll just shoot you. You’ve seen too much, and his offer to help you by hurting others has been rescinded.

“Let me go,” he demands. “Or I will shoot you.”

“Threatening a police officer can carry felony charges in California,” you point out. “Last warning, drop the weapon!”

“Last warning is it?” he asks. “Fantastic. Let’s get this over with. I’ve got somewhere to be.”

You adjust your stance as he pulls a hand back inside the car. He opens the door and steps out. Quickly, he raises the gun to match your position and takes a measured step toward you.

“Stop!” you yell. “Don’t move!”

“Like this?” he taunts as he takes another step.

“Put down the gun and stop!”

He shakes his head as his finger slides toward the trigger. When his finger brushes the laser switch on his gun, the red dot appears on your sternum. He’s going to kill you unless you act now, you realize. Though they taught you everything to do in this moment, being in it is different. With one more warning, you pull the trigger. Your bullet rips through his arm and into his shoulder as you hold your position. When he hits the asphalt and groans, you kick his gun away and keep yours trained on him.

The man clutches his arm before he slumps. Immediately, your hands begin to shake. Carefully, you reach for your radio and automatically report the incident. While you operate according to procedure, your eyes never leave your gun or the man it is aimed at. You shot someone. Your breaths grow shallow as you return the radio to your belt. Though you know this was pure self-defence, you are still upset and find that you were totally unprepared for what it really feels like. You will yourself to calm down as dispatch alerts you to officers and Sergeant Grey responding; inside, everything is spinning as your emotions collide.

“Officer-involved shooting at South Curson and West 8th,” dispatch alerts. “Assistance requested.”

“Dispatch, I’m en route,” Tim radios the moment the transmission ends.

His hands tighten around the steering wheel as he clenches his jaw. They added your badge number as the officer involved, but no information about who was hurt or what happened. As Tim speeds through the streets of Mid-Wilshire, he fights not to panic. The worry that something has happened to you is something he can use, but he refuses to spiral.

Tim reaches the location of the shooting quickly and realizes that he is the first officer there. Before he gets out of his shop, he radios that he’s at the scene. The moment he steps out into the scene, his priorities shift. You are standing over an unconscious man, and Tim doesn’t even notice the blood on the ground. All he sees is you and that you are shaking. He calls your name, his voice soft as he approaches you. It takes a moment for you to look up, but Tim immediately identifies the emotions in your eyes. You’re genuinely shaken up, and Tim swears he can see fear in your eyes, either because of what happened or what you did.

“Hey,” Tim adds. “You’re okay.”

“I shot him,” you murmur, your voice breaking. “I shot him.”

Tim wraps his arm around your shoulders and gently turns you away from the injured suspect below you. He uses his other hand to direct your face to his. Quickly, Tim scans your face and body for any sign of injury and takes a deep breath when he is sure you are physically safe.

“Don’t tell me anything,” Tim reminds you. “But I’m right here, I’ve got you.”

You hear approaching sirens and blink quickly. Raising your hands to Tim’s chest, you push him away from you. His arm slides off of your shoulders as he steps back.

“You have to leave,” you tell him. “They can’t know.”

“But I-“

Tim stops. He wants to stay beside you and be anything and everything you need, but he also doesn’t want to risk upsetting you further. The first shooting is usually tough, and the fact that you’re relatively far into your career likely makes it harder.

“Okay,” Tim agrees. “I won’t be far.”

You nod, numb to everything except the memory of pulling the trigger. Sergeant Grey arrives and pulls you to the side as police officers and first responders crowd the scene. He takes you to his car and brings Nolan as your union rep before you even think to ask and takes your initial report.

“Everything is going to be fine,” Nolan assures you. “You did everything by the book and the evidence will back that up.”

Your gaze wanders to Tim, and though you know your relationship isn’t up to department regulations, you want to let him in. But you are scared and stubborn, and those have never mixed well.

Tim sees that you’re looking at him and takes it as an opportunity to return to your side. He doesn’t touch you this time, only sends you a look that reminds you that you’re not alone, even if you want to be.

“You should get back to work,” you say.

“I’m staying with you through all of this. You didn’t do anything wrong, but that doesn’t mean this is easy.”

“Tim,” you huff. “Just go.”

“No,” he answers shortly.

“Bradford,” Grey calls. “I need you to escort her back to the station. We’ll be back soon with everything else.”

Tim points to his body cam and Grey sends him a thumbs up. Yours was taken as evidence, so they’ll rely on Tim’s to monitor your behavior after the shooting. Luckily, Tim didn’t do anything that would read as more than a concerned fellow officer after he arrived.

“You heard him,” Tim says. “You’re stuck with me.”

As you follow Tim back to his shop, your hands continue shaking. You cross your arms over your chest, where your body cam would usually be, and tuck your hands between your arms and sides to hide the emotions leaking out.

“Just pass me off to someone else,” you encourage quietly.

“I’m not leaving you, not after what you just went through,” Tim states. “So, stop asking me to.”

You draw his attention to your face, out of sight of his body cam and mouth, “If you stay, they’re going to realize that we’re dating.”

“Let them,” Tim says aloud. “I don’t care what they see or think, I care about you.”

You tighten your arms over your hands and bite your bottom lip. Tim repeats himself, “I am only here for you.” Carefully, he pulls you into a hug, and you accept his comfort as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“We’re here.”

You ride back to the station in silence, then sit outside Wade’s office as your body cam footage is reviewed and witnesses are interviewed. Tim sits beside you as you wait and shakes his head when people try to approach you, even if well-intentioned.

“How long does this take?” you ask quietly, picking at your fingers.

Tim slips his hand between yours as he answers, “It depends.”

You nod and lay one of your hands in Tim’s. The other curls in on itself, and your fingernails dig into your skin. Tim releases your hand and lays his hand palm up in your lap.

“Don’t take it out on yourself,” Tim whispers. “Do it to me if you have to, but this was not your fault.”

You run your finger over Tim’s palm, but without the worried movement of your hands, your energy finds a new outlet. Below Tim’s hand, your leg begins to bounce on its own accord.

“Take a deep breath,” Tim encourages as he turns in his chair.

He lays one hand on your bouncing leg while you hold the other. When you realize you’re too comfortable with Tim inside the station, you try to turn away.

“I’m okay now,” you say. “You can go.”

Tim shakes his head and mutters, “Stubborn.”

“But we-“

“You don’t need to be alone right now,” he interrupts. “Let me help.”

“We’re ready for you,” Grey says from his office door. “Bradford, you can come too.”

Tim offers a hand to help you stand, then follows you into the office with his hand against your back. Grey and a few other officers wait inside, and you swallow harshly while you wait for someone to talk.

“You’ve been cleared,” Wade says. “Everything was by the book, it was pure self-defence, and the guy has a good outlook. He’s expected to recover just in time for us to throw him in jail.”

Your eyes widen with the good news, and you force your words over a growing knot in your throat. All of your emotions want to burst out, but you control them as you reply, “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank us for, ma’am,” one of the IA investigators adds. “You did your job, and you did it well.”

“You’re free to go for the day,” Wade says.

“You too, Bradford,” IA interjects. “And we’re not worried about the relationship, for the record. Just keep it professional at work; you’re both good cops.”

“Thank you,” you repeat.

Tim leads you out of the office, and your brain switches to autopilot as you enter the locker room and prepare to leave. He beats you back outside and prevents anyone from talking to you as he takes you outside to his truck.

When you arrive at Tim’s house, he leads you to the couch and sits beside you. In the privacy and with Tim’s hand on your cheek, you break down as the relief of being cleared mixes with every other emotion that has been building in your chest. Tim doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. Held tightly to Tim’s chest, you receive the comfort you’ve craved all day, and Tim finally gets to give it without arguing.

“It was never about people not seeing us together,” Tim whispers as he strokes your back. “Your career would have been in jeopardy, and I was worried that no one would respect you if it got out.”

“You could’ve lost your job, too,” you point out weakly.

Tim pushes you back carefully and smiles softly. “Are you ever going to realize? It will never be about me. I don’t care who sees us together because I just want to be yours.”

“For now,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re only soft sometimes.”

“Like today?”

You nod as you lean against him once more. Whether you are willing to admit it or not, Tim will always be soft yet fiercely protective of you.

“You could also stop trying to push me away and break my heart,” Tim points out.

You kiss his shirt over his heart and say, “Softie.”

“Are you really okay?” Tim inquires after a quiet moment.

“I am. Thanks to you.”

“I’ll always be right here. With you and for you.”

[ovaryacted]

what about ID Leon (feel like he’d have been a total fuckboy atp as a sort of phase) but what ab he always comes back to you and after a heated argument he fucks you as he’s pressing your face into the mattress while you're crying and clutching the sheets as you’re begging him to let you finish again 🤭

MDNI/18+. NSFW. | cw: Leon is ooc. Possible toxic relationship.

Ooooooo, you’re cooking here anon. Even though I personally don’t headcanon or view Leon as a fuckboy (because let’s face it, that man is not getting laid for the life of him I mean…), let’s go ahead and say he has an ego and it is reflected in his shitty communication skills (cause of anxiety and trauma womp womp).

-

It was a heated moment where Leon accidentally raised his voice at you, mentioning something about not listening to orders on a mission. It was a close call and you had ventured off without Leon’s support, and he kept calm until you were both back home. It first started as a regular conversation until it deviated from Leon not being able to keep you within arm’s reach, to you being too individualistic. You knew why he did this, he was often too worried for his good and you’d always remind him that you could handle yourself even if he didn’t believe you.

“You have to listen to me when we’re out there. Do you know what could’ve happened or do you just not give a shit?”, Leon huffed out a breath, his arms crossing over his chest and shooting daggers at you.

“Well, I’m not you Leon, not all of us think the way you do. The sooner you accept it the better!”, you grew more defiant, more angry for God knows what. The bitterness you felt from Leon always being gone to never listening to you on missions started to fester out of control.

The argument only got more intense, turning into a yelling match between the both of you. Hurtful words were said, things neither of you meant, and with a cruel “Go fuck yourself Leon”, you watched him walk out the door and slam it behind him.

You pissed him off, he pissed you off, but there was nobody else who understood your relationship the way you both did. This wasn’t the first time you two argued either, often happening after you were both stressed out and didn’t find a proper release for it. You couldn’t blame Leon entirely, always being forced to do the government’s bidding and having limited freedom would put anybody on the verge of a breakdown. Being each other’s vices also didn’t help, so it wasn’t surprising when you found Leon knocking on your front door with furrowed eyebrows close to a day later.

He smelled like whiskey, not too much to the point where it was dizzying, but enough to let you know he was drinking. Leon wasn’t there to talk, you knew that much, stuck in a never-ending cycle of adrenaline and unresolved issues.

That was how you found yourself in this position now, face down ass up on the mattress. The things that happened after you welcomed Leon back into the apartment and closed the door behind him were a blur. You remembered him kissing you hard on the mouth, walking you backward towards the bedroom and yanking on your clothes. He wasn’t gentle, not entirely, but when he pulled you forward by the leg as his mouth gravitated towards your cunt, you couldn’t stop him. You didn’t want to.

“Leon…please…”, you could barely speak, barely think, your brain was melting and spilling out of your ears along with the rest of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to care about the consequences and how this might seem. Always fighting with this man just to end up back in bed with him was something you should be embarrassed about. But with the way he was pummeling into you, it was easier to forgive him.

“Just shut up”, he muttered under his breath, fucking into you harshly from behind and focusing on the way your walls pulsed around his cock. He was relentless, moving in an aggressive push-and-pull that hadn’t stopped since he crossed the threshold of your front door. The back of his hand grabbed onto your head, pushing your face against the mattress and making you release a muffled whimper.

You hid your face in the bed, tears slipping down your cheeks and your fingers digging into the sheets. Maybe this was what you deserved, to be tested constantly so Leon could come back home, back to you.

“Quit your fucking whining, I’ll let you cum”, Leon didn’t stop, knowing you were on the verge of cumming all over him for the umpteenth time. No matter how mad he was at you at the moment or how badly you pissed him off, he would let you cum however many times you could.

Sometimes you hated him for it, how he could play your body like a violin and pull every string taut until it snapped. He drained you, he stressed you out, but you still gave yourself willingly every time because that’s what made him stay.

This was how he liked you. Pliant and taking what he had to give. That was all you could do, because no matter what, Leon always came back to you.

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐎 𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 | 𝐑𝐔𝐓𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐂𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘

word count: 1.35k

summary: on your way to the spend a weekend at the lake house with his teammates, you think about your future with rutger

warnings: british reader!, mentions of some other umich players (nick, duke brothers), brief sad thoughts

notes: based on 'so american' by olivia rodrigo. who am i if not writing fics based on songs.

The morning sun was beginning to rise, casting a golden hue on Rutger’s jeep that rumbled down the highway, its tires humming against the asphalt. Rutger sat in the driver's seat, his left hand holding a loose grip on the wheel, while you sat comfortably in the passenger seat, your feet were propped up on the dashboard. Rutger insisted you hit the road early to get to Jacob’s lake house around mid-morning. You felt that was a little too early, but he was excited to spend some spare time at the end of the semester with his friends and girlfriend, relaxing on the water. To make up for the early start time, Rutger bought you an iced coffee and promised that you could sleep in the car on the way over.

However, you couldn’t find yourself able to fall back asleep, instead taking over aux, the early morning air that flowed through the cracked windows helping to rejuvenate you. You tapped your fingers against the door handle, matching the beat of the song you’d selected. Dirt On My Boots by Jon Pardi filled the space, a contented smile gracing your lips.

“You’ve turned so American.” Rutger says, pulling your brain out of its brief daze.

“What?” You ask, your brows furrowing.

“I mean… look at you,” Rutger says with a chuckle. “You’re sitting there with your feet on the dash, you’re listening to country music, and you’re repping USA merch.”

Rutger motions to one of his hoodies that you’d thrown on as you were leaving. It was one given to him by the world juniors team he’d just played on, the letters U-S-A largely displayed on the chest.

You turned to him, adjusting your position in the seat. "Oh, please, don't say that. I'm still very much British, thank you very much." You retort, rejecting the idea that you’d become American in any way.

When you applied for an exchange to the University of Michigan, nothing could’ve prepared you for what would’ve come. On your first day of classes in the new country, you met Rutger. When a pretty girl sat next to him in one of his classes, he knew he had to talk to her. It didn’t take long for the two of you to develop feelings, Rutger soon being the ‘dreamy American’ that your friends had jokingly told you you’d fall for. And fall for him you did.

It was unfair of Rutger to make you feel this much when you both knew your future was uncertain.

“Hey, there is nothing wrong with being American.” Rutger points out.

“Yeah says the American.” You tease, rolling your eyes. “Thank god I’m going home soon. I need to reconnect with my roots if you think I’ve become American.”

Despite that being a joke, you couldn't shake the underlying sadness that gnawed at you. In just one week, you were leaving Michigan and returning to the UK. The thought of leaving Rutger and the life you’d established in Michigan weighed heavily on your heart. You knew that the bond you’d established with Rutger would withstand the miles and borders, however the prospect of being separated from him felt like tearing away a piece of you.

Rutger, sensing the shift in your demeanour as well as knowing that the inevitable move was weighing on you, reached over, taking your hand in his. His cold fingers lacing between yours quickly drew you back to reality.

“Hey,” He said softly. “Try not to think about it for now. Enjoy this weekend. We’ve got ages to figure it all out.”

You squeezed Rutger���s hand drawing comfort from his touch. With a gentle smile, you met his gaze, gratitude shining in your eyes. “Thank you, Rut.” You said softly.

Rutger returned your smile, turning his attention back to the road while keeping your hand in his. You continued the drive, doing your best to expel the thoughts of leaving from your mind.

Three hours later, Rutger pulled down a laneway that ultimately led to a large house on the water. Rutger’s teammates were already outside, eagerly awaiting your arrival.

“Hey guys!” Rutger called out as they stepped out of the car. Rutger’s teammates come over, greeting the two of them.

“This place is beautiful.” You comment, admiring the glimpse of the water you could see past the house.

“God, I will never get over the accent.” Nick said. Rutger shoved his shoulder while you playfully rolled your eyes.

You considered yourself lucky that you’d become friends with Rutger’s teammates. From the moment Rutger introduced you to them, they’d welcomed you with open arms. And as you spent more time with them, they weren’t just Rutger’s teammates, they were your friends as well.

“Alright, now go get changed, we’re hitting the water.” Luca said, ushering the two of you inside.

You headed up to your room, changed into the swimsuits you’d brought, and then headed downstairs to meet the rest of the group. The rest of the afternoon, you guys remained on the water. You all took turns on the tube, as well as some of the boys deciding to test their water skiing skills. When the sun began to descend towards the horizon, a golden hue being cast on the water, you headed back to the house to start dinner, which was a full team activity in which everyone was put to work doing something. You and Rutger were put in charge of the barbecue on the back patio, teaming up with Dylan and Tyler to grill the burgers and corn.

After dinner was demolished, you headed down to the fire pit, relaxing in the Adirondack chairs, talking about whatever came to mind. The flames cast flickering glows on everyone's faces as you discussed sports, your exams, and random childhood anecdotes whether relevant or not. After a while of drinking and chatting, both you and Rutger hit your limits and decide to call it a night.

The second that Rutger’s head hits the pillow, he’s out like a light, the day’s activities catching up with him. After a full day of tubing and waterskiing, combined with the drinks they’d consumed throughout the day, everyone was wiped. You, however, lay awake, the moonlight reflecting off the water and into the open window.

You traced your fingers through Rutger's hair, watching his bare chest rise and fall with steady breaths. With the tranquillity of the room enveloping you, you find yourself lost in a maze of thoughts, your mind swirling with visions of Rutger and the future they could share.

England was home. England was where you grew up, where your family and friends still resided. The thought of leaving them to be in North America made your heart tense. However, lying in the sheets and staring up at the ceiling, you couldn’t help but imagine moving to North America to be with Rutger. As you look over at him, still peacefully asleep, you imagine the prospect of uprooting your life for the American boy you fell in love with, of bridging the distance to be with Rutger.

Your thoughts continue to wander, picturing what could come of life in America with Rutger. Your mind entertains the notion of marriage, a distant yet possible milestone. That might be a little presumptuous of you, with your relationship still being in its infancy, but you practically couldn’t help it. The way he’d made you feel in the past 8 months was unlike anything you’d ever experienced before. Every moment with him felt like a moment torn from a romance book. Every moment with him was filled with laughter and stolen glances, creating an undeniable intimacy and connection.

You had to eventually force those thoughts out of your mind or else they would’ve kept you up all night. You rolled over, curling into Rutger’s side, and placing a delicate hand on his abs. Rutger stirred momentarily, instinctively wrapping his arm around you, drawing you closer. For now, you were content to simply be in this moment with him, cherishing the time you had left before you had to return home.