#wire op

[littlewanibites]

Chance encounter 2 years after Sabaody

[jintaka-hane]

Someone Worried About You

Masterlist

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Summary: After a brutal attack leaves you badly hurt, a crewmate secretly takes care of you, doing little things he thinks you’d like without you knowing. Word count: 1900 Notes: Wire x f!reader. Platonic Killer. Taking care. Fluff.

Everything happened so fast.

The crash, followed by the shouts of your captain, ordering you to get out of the way. The fire, thick smoke swirling around you, and the stench of burning flesh. The explosion, the memory of the hard impact with the unforgiving ground, your body numb, hands desperately feeling for injuries. The image of horror as you stared at your blood-soaked palms.

Then, the silence. The darkness. The void.

*******

You woke with a dry mouth and a searing pain.

Where am I?

The blinding light of the room assaulted your eyes as you opened them, forcing you to squint in discomfort. As your eyes traveled down your body, you saw a white sheet pulled up to your chest. Your arms were wrapped tightly in bandages, not a sliver of skin visible, and when you tried to move them, they didn’t respond. Panic surged through you, your breaths coming in quick, terrified gasps as your legs, too, refused to obey your brain’s commands.

Shit, shit, shit.

“... help…” you tried to scream with all the strength you had left, which wasn’t much.

Aware that your weak voice wouldn’t reach anyone, you squeezed your eyes shut and forced yourself to calm down. You inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and repeated the process until you regained some control. Once steady, you began to assess your surroundings.

The room was bright and airy, with a large open window that let in a soft breeze. The bed beneath you was surprisingly comfortable, and a small nightstand sat beside it. Through your still-blurred vision you could see a bottle of water, a book, and a fresh flower resting on top.

“You’re awake!?” Killer’s voice nearly shouted, followed by the hurried thud of footsteps approaching the bed. “KID! SHE’S AWAKE!”

It was the last thing you heard before everything went dark again, and you slipped back into unconsciousness.

*****

Your eyes flickered open again, and your fingers trembled slightly as you tried to move your hands. A good sign—at least they were beginning to respond.

You looked around, recognizing the now familiar room. The open window, with curtains fluttering softly in the breeze; the nightstand beside the bed, holding a freshly picked flower; and, right below it, the book.

That book.

To your surprise, you recognized the cover—an image you had caressed hundreds of times, from a story you had read just as many…, a book whose pages you knew by heart.

Your favorite.

A bookmark was carefully tucked between the pages, showing it had been started again.

Confused, your eyes roamed the room, searching for answers, stopping at something you hadn’t noticed before: right beside your bed was a large, rather uncomfortable-looking armchair, with visible wrinkles in the seat, as if it had been occupied not long ago.

“How are you feeling?” Killer’s soft, calming voice came from the other side, startling you from your thoughts.

You attempted to turn your head toward him, clumsily, wincing in pain from the effort.

“Easy now, don’t push it. I’m right here,” he said, holding one of your hands in his and positioning himself where you could see him.

“What happened?” Your voice was a rough whisper, and your mouth tasted of blood. “I feel like crap.”

“The attack... the explosion..." he faltered, his chest heavy with emotion. "You went wild, charging at them all by yourself, defying Kid’s orders. It was brutal. We... we thought we’d lost you."

You looked at him, remembering bits of what he said.

“You, fucking reckless, stubborn brat…” he continued, tightening his hand around yours. “You saved us.”

The corners of your lips twitched into a brief, weary smile.

“Where are we?”

“On solid ground. Kid’s ordered we’re not setting sail again till you’re back on your feet.”

“Will I get better?” your voiced trembled.

Killer’s thumb caressed your wrist. “Of course you will, but it’s going to take time. You need to rest.”

You nodded and closed your eyes, drained from the conversation. Killer noticed the gesture and got up to adjust your pillow.

“I’ll leave you to get some rest.”

As you heard him move toward the door, a question crossed your mind, and you quickly opened your eyes again.

“Kil, wait…”

Your first mate turned back towards you.

“...the flower, the book… Who put them there?”

You could almost sense him smiling behind his mask. “Someone who’s really worried about you.”

And with that he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You were so exhausted that you didn’t have the energy to ponder who it might be.

*******

The days slipped by, and with them, strength gradually returned to your body. You still needed to sleep a lot, but your waking moments, though still brief, grew more frequent.

Each time you opened your eyes, they would eagerly settle on the nightstand, where a freshly cut flower would be waiting for you. Each bloom seemed more beautiful than the last, with a variety of colors that was simply breathtaking.

Next, your gaze would fall on the book, carefully placed beneath the flower with its pages slightly spread apart. A faint smile would tug at your lips as you noticed that the bookmark had moved forward again. As your sleep had become lighter, you found yourself dreaming of a deep, warm voice reading passages aloud — ones you knew almost by heart.

You always ended up glancing at the chair, slightly angled toward you, its cushions marked by recent use. On colder days, a small blanket was casually draped over the armrest. On the days when your arms had more strength, you’d reach out to touch the seat, always finding it warm to the touch.

But the chair’s occupant was always absent, as if fate wasn’t yet ready to reveal the secret of the person who spent so many hours at your side, watching over you.

Until one day, your curiosity was finally satisfied.

As usual, you opened your eyes and instinctively turned toward the nightstand, expecting to find the familiar sight of your book and the usual flower. But this time the book was missing.

Confused, you scanned the room, and your eyes flickered around until they landed on something unexpected — a pair of knees wrapped in black fishnet stockings, legs so long they bumped against the side of the bed.

Your eyes traveled up the tall figure slouched in the chair, noting the black shorts, the belt with metal rings, and the harness strapped across his broad chest, adorned with the skull that always reminded you of someone. One hand rested on his chest, fingers curled loosely around your open book, which rose and fell with each breath he took. The other hand hung loosely over the armrest. His head was uncovered, drooping slightly forward, his hair a bit tousled, and his distinctive sideburns were more unkempt than usual, though they did nothing to diminish his usual air of elegance.

With some effort, you stretched out your arm fingers brushing against his hand, feeling its warmth. The moment you touched him, he turned his palm upward to grasp yours, lifting it slightly into the air. His eyes fluttered a few times before fully opening, and his head straightened as he looked at you, fully awake now.

"Y/N..." was all he could muster. His eyes were tired, and roamed your face with a hint of something you sensed was emotion.

You smiled and squeezed his hand, and the gesture spoke more than any words ever could. You were genuinely surprised that of all your crewmates, he, who was usually so reserved and distant, with his eternally annoyed expression, had been the one by your side throughout your recovery. Day and night.

"Thirsty? Hungry?" he asked as he sat up straighter.

You shook your head, realizing too in that moment that he had probably been the one ensuring you were nourished and hydrated all along. What else had he been doing for you? You needed to know.

“Wire... the flowers…”

His gaze lingered on you for a moment, as if pondering his next move. Then, he reached for the nightstand and held the flower thoughtfully, studying it before brushing your hair aside to tuck it behind your ear.

“They reminded me of you…” he said, his smile tinged with sadness that tightened something inside you.

Your gaze fell on the book, now resting in his lap. 

“And the book…” you began, your voice trailing off.

"You seemed to be all into it before the accident, so I thought... maybe I could help you finish it,” he said, his thumb absently tracing the edge of his sideburn.

As you listened to his words, a rush of affection and tenderness filled your heart. Finish it, he had said, as if you hadn’t read it countless times before.

“Thank you, Wire,” you said softly, offering him a grateful smile.

He fell silent, simply watching you, and you couldn’t help but think that he was definitely much quieter than Killer.

“Wanna keep reading it now?” he asked so suddenly that you had to stifle a laugh. His lips curved into a faint smile, misinterpreting the sparkle in your eyes as enthusiasm.

He opened the book, cleared of his throat, and began reading, slowly, with his deep, resonant voice filling the room. You closed your eyes and focused on his words, the next sentences already forming in your mind. It was a part you knew completely, nearing the end of the story. Your favorite. You continued to listen, enchanted, when suddenly something struck you.

Oh, no.

You opened your eyes right away and looked at him. 

“W-Wire… listen,” you said, anxiety lacing your voice. 

He paused, shifting the book aside to look at you. “Yes?” 

“Maybe… we should put the book down,” you suggested.

“Why? We gotta find out if the guy works up the nerve to tell the girl how he feels."

“WE gotta?” You raised an eyebrow, amused. 

“WE gotta.” He replied with a face so solemnly serious that it made you giggle.

He put the book right back in front of his face, but you interrupted him once more, partly to buy yourself some time and partly because of the irresistible urge to tease him a little more.

“Why, Wire? You getting ideas?”

“What if I am?” he answered from behind the book, showing no sign of being bothered.

“Got any particular girl in mind?”

This time he hesitated for a split second before answering.

“Maybe…” He said at last, still holding the book up in front of his face, using it as both a shield and an excuse to avoid your gaze as he tried to get back to reading.

And with that, you let him continue reading, your hands gripping the sheets tightly to shield your face burning with mortification, knowing that once he turned the page he would reach the most explicit, unrestrained, and scandalously steamy passage you—and possibly he—had ever read.

...................

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece <3

[foxnikki]

Ok, but how is possible that now I also like Heat and Wire? Like, am I getting hyperfixated with the Kid Pirates or something???

[fortheloveofkiller]

You can’t tell me these two don’t have the most chaotic, unhinged adventures then come back to the Victora Punk like nothing happened.

[eustassslut]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eustass Kid doesn't do love. He does one night stands, hookups and lust. He simply just does not do love, it isn't a word in his vocabulary. Sure he sings about it frequently but those aren't songs Kid has written himself; those are Heat's songs dedicated to whoever he's in love with that week.

Love is real, he knows that. He's seen it with his parents, Heat with his many lovers and felt it in its platonic form for his fellow band members. But love just isn't for him. He has no need for it in his life. He's always seen love as a distraction; something that seeps into your life, overtaking it and soiling your motivation like a bad addiction as it conquers you. Kid can't afford distractions in his career when he's worked so damn hard to reach the halls of fame. "Love will always be a fucking waste of my time and energy," he reminds Heat every time the bluenette tries to encourage him to trial the dating pool, "Why would I pursue some relationship with some pathetic loser and force myself to fall in love with someone when hookups exist?"

Kid knows his outlook on relationships and love is unusual, practically unheard of when taking his family (a bunch of gross sappy goth and punk couples) into consideration. Eustass Kid technically has all of the makings to be a true romantic but, unlike his sworn brother Killer, he just can't stand any of that shit.

At least that's what he thought, until he meets you.

Kid has know about you since he was young, fresh into his career and full of dreams to become a star. It's incredibly hard not to know who you are considering how long you've been supporting them. You're loyal, he'll give you that, a proud fan since they were a small cover band filming in Wire's garage with dreams for the stage. He has no idea what could possibly possess someone to have such blind faith in the weird metal band with wacky hairstyles and horrible videography. I mean, Wire's head was cut out frame for most of their covers and Kid was rocking an attempt at a emo haircut. Why had you stuck around so long to watch them grow into their careers? Why were you still so dedicated to giving them all your money? And why did he find himself caring so fucking much about what you wanted?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Happy belated fictober! There's been a lot of Kid Pirates as a rock band art lately so I have been very inspired to create a fic series based around them as a famous band, here is a sneak peak of Eustass Kid's fic.

[your-neighbor-in-the-northblue]

Kid Pirates With A Sick!Reader

➼ Word Count » 0.3k ➼ Warnings » None ➼ Genre » Hurt/Comfort

Kid has a hard time showing that he cares because a part of him really doesn't. It's not like you need an amputation or anything, you're just bedridden and slightly warmer the normal. A part of him does feel guilty, though, he doesn't mean to come off as unconcerned about your health, he's just unsure how he's supposed to display it. You'll occasionally see him stopping by your room (stopping at the doorway, ain't no way he's getting himself sick too), only for him to ask the dumbest questions. He'll come around, watch you go into a coughing fit, then call out something like, "Are you still sick???" He's not helpful AT ALL, but at least he visits.

Killer is the one who'll take on the responsibility for the majority of your needs. He'll be the one to go and make you soup and keep your hair out of your face while you vomit. He comes around the most often to take your temperature and whatnot, always making sure to disinfect as much of your room as he can manage. Lucky for you, he has tons of masks that he'll make you wear if you ever want to stretch your legs for a moment. He's not a professional and doesn't entirely know what he's doing, but he does more than anyone else will.

Heat is usually there with Killer helping him carry things into your room like blankets and stuff. If you don't get better quick, he might go ask Law, but that's the most he'll do for you.

Wire is another who just sorta shrugs his shoulders to the sounds of you dying next door. You'll get better, and he's not too worried about it. In fact, he might even start shouting at you from across the ship if you become to loud for his liking.

[eustasscapitankid]

picrew by jesterphobic

[eustasscapitankid]

WIRE! CALM DOWN.

Can I offer you a part of the crew in these trying times?

[lostuzumaki]

Luffy reincarnated to past AU

Part22

Part1 ... Part21 Part22 Part23

[attyrocious]

recipe card merch art i did for @opkillerzine

[fanaticsnail]

It won't fit

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 3,200+ (600+, 500+, 1,100+, 800+)

Synopsis: The four commanders of the Victoria Punk were large in size, in every way. Eyes finally catching what goes on below their hemlines, you're brought to terms with the fact that it would be difficult to fit.

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, 18+, Smut, all individual encounters with the four commanders, Kid x reader, Killer x reader, Heat x reader, Wire x reader, afab!reader, reader has breasts, size kink, size difference, no gendered terms used, first time with each of them, swearing, cumming, oral, hurt & comfort, pet names used.

Notes: Based on an ask @bitchimasnake-sss got about a size difference for Luffy, Zoro, and Sanji. I loved it, and wanted to see it for these four big boys. Everyone should check it out!

Gazing down from your position in front of him, your eyes met with his pulsating cock. Twitching in the air, his impressive girth and length caused your heart to beat rapidly in your chest. Heat swelling your cheeks, with your jaw falling slack, all you could manage to stutter in your stupor was a small whimper. 

“It won't fit.”

Eustass Kid

“Yes it will, don't be a baby about it,” he growled at you. Grabbing at your thighs, he moved you to lay down the bed and towards his large cock. His pale shaft contrasted his ruby-red tip beautifully, each angry vein expanding his cock with each pulsating rush of blood engorged and expanded. 

Panic shot through you as he lined up his tip with your slit, slowly dragging the cockhead over your slick pussy and tapping your clit with it briefly. 

“No, you don't understand-! It's too big, Kid! I don't think I can take it,” you managed to stutter out, your eyes wide and panicked as he stilled his motions. Immediately cocking his head in a sharp tilt, he glared down at you with his forehead lowered in a deep furrow. 

“You-... You want to stop?” He asked you lowly, each syllable pronounced so there was no misinterpretation of his question, “Say the word and we'll stop, ‘kay? I'm not gonna force ‘ya to do somethin’ you don't want.” At that, he withdrew completely, sitting back on his calves with his hand pressed on his thigh. 

“No-, I mean-, I don't-, I-,” you add, shaking your head and rising to a seated position, “...I want to try. Can we-... Can we go slow? I'm not used to taking anyone so large, and I'm a little-.”

"-Frightened of little ol' me?" Kid's eyes darted between yours, the crisp golden hue warming you with the crackle of mischief twinkling within.

"A little, yeah," you nod at him, your lip twitching into a quivering smile. Darting your eyes to the ground, clenching and unclenching your hands to stifle your nerves before meeting his gaze once more. Kid smirked at your confession, leaning down towards you and raising his hand to grip at the back of your head. 

“Although I may look and sound it sometimes,” he smiled at you, amber eyes darting between yours, “I'm not some huge asshole that doesn't take their partner into account. I can go slow. Just breathe with me, alrigh’?” 

Stooping lower, he pressed his lips to yours and slowly lined his tip up once more with your slit. Slowly rocking his hips, he stretched your pussy with his bulbous tip, prompting your eyes to snap shut and body tense in response. 

“Breathe, baby,” he whispered into your ear, pressing soft kisses to your cheek, jaw, and neck, “Just breathe. I'm gonna go slow, and you'll get used to it.” 

His cock slowly eased in with each soft motion, each small portion of his shaft you took, he would press a flurry of kisses against your skin. Neck, chest, collar, back up to the corner of your lips, all kisses in a bid to ease you into it and breathe with him. 

Not before long, Kid was whimpering and panting, his cock being squeezed by your tight pussy causing him to almost become a blubbering mess. His entire cock had your body mold to the shape of him, each twitch and pulse from it causing you to sigh and stretch to accommodate him. 

As you finally adjusted to the large stretch, Kid was already shaking with the restraint of not pistoning his cock into you repetitively. He was already so close to cumming from the feeling of it alone, he truly didn't know how long he'd last if you finally acclimatized to his entire length. 

“It's okay,” you nodded, looking up at him and cupping his face, “I'm okay. You can move now.” 

“Oh thank fuck for that,” he groaned, immediately testing the sensation by pulling out a fifth of the way and rocking it back into you. When all it was met with was a moan from you, he did it again. More of his length came out, more of it pressed back into your pussy in a hard snap of his hips. The pace was set to a heavy rhythm of deep claps of his hips meeting yours. 

“F-Fuck. Told you it'd fit.”

Massacre Soldier Killer 

Letting out a soft exhale and shaking his head, he slowly drew your attention up to him by cradling your cheek in his scarred left palm. 

“We don't have to do anything tonight if you’re not ready,” he gently soothed you with a softness in his voice, contrasting the hardness of his pulsating cock. “I know I'm a little bigger in comparison to you. It'll make things pinch and sting a bit. I don't want to hurt you.” He moved his thumb in soothing circles against your cheek, truly meaning every word falling freely from his lips. 

Giving him a gentle shove, you push him to sit against the mattress, following your lead and reaching up to cup the backs of your thighs. Slowly crawling on top of him, he leans back and welcomes you to sit on his lap completely. 

“I want to try,” you round your eyes at him, pouting and moving your knees to circle his hips. Spread in a wide straddle, you move your pussy over his tip and slowly grind your slit on him, “Can I please try? If we take it slow?” Killer nodded, thankful that the mask shrouded his face from view due to the fact he was clamping his teeth so hard on his lips to stop the whimper from escaping. 

“W-We can try. I won't move a muscle until you're ready,” he stuttered, raising his arms to hold his hands beside his head: flat with palms up beside him. 

Leaning forward, you line yourself up with his cock and roll your hips against it. The large tip does nothing to enter your tight heat, slipping and sliding against your slick and causing Killer’s breath to hitch. Reaching one hand down to grasp his swollen cock, you hold it steady between your legs and roll your tight core against his blunt tip more intentionally. 

You wince at the sting of his pretty flushed tip entering your body, the stretch feeling immediately sore at your muscles expanding around him. Finally taking that first ridge of his tip past the largest point, you release his shaft and seek out his hands to anchor yourself against. 

True to his words, the only muscle Killer uses is widening his fingertips for you to lace yours within. All gentle, all soft, all welcoming and patient: Killer grit his teeth harder to halt the urge to bounce his thick cock up into your smaller frame. 

Slowly and surely, your walls relax around him and finally sheath him completely into your pussy. Walls fluttering around him, your clit grinds against his pubic hair and you whine at the contact. At that soft sound falling freely from your lips, Killer immediately unlaces his hands from yours and claps them around each of your ass cheeks, holding you firm and adjusting himself to the tight squeeze of your cunt clenching him in a vice-grip.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he huffed, groanding at his cock being strangled by your heat, “You gotta relax around me, sweet thing. Just relax, alright?” He withdrew his left hand from your ass and brought it to your face, cradling your cheek within the heel of his palm. 

“I’m right here with you, okay?” he hushed you, gently thumbing over your cheek bone, “I won’t move until you’re ready.”

Heat

“Do you,” he began, halting as he sought out your attention with his eyes, “Do you want to do something else?” He reached forward, his eyes flickering over your face and searching for understanding. His expression was captured completely in his hollowed eyes, hunching his shoulders and stooping to match your height with his own.

Heat was seven feet tall, his kindness welcome, but wholly unexpected and unfamiliar. His softness in comparison to the other three leaders of the Kid Pirates was what drew you to him: that kind hand mirroring the words pouring like honey from his fire-breathing lips. 

“We can calm things down, you know?” he offered, pressing his forehead against yours with a soft smile, “I can go ask Killer for some potatoes. We can make all different styles together. Fat-cut chips, hash browns, roast potatoes in duck fat, mashed potatoes as a creamy dip. If you’d rather we don’t do anything intimately, we could-.”

“-Can I try just a little bit of it?” you spoke over him, eyes peering dotingly down at his stiff cock, bobbing vibrantly in the air, “Just to see if I can? Not all of it, but... Just the tip?” You gulped back a dry mouthful of saliva glancing up through your eyelashes at the blue-haired commander. 

Heat’s face dusted with a vibrant shade of red, tinting his nose and tips of his ears with the hue. He swallowed the immediate “yes,” he so desperately wanted to bark out at you, focussing more on the serious tone lingering in the air. Following your gaze down at his cock and darting back up between your two orbs, he nodded slowly as he sucked in his scarred lips. 

“If you want to,” he whispered slowly, drawing you close and pressing a sweet kiss against the apple of your cheek, “Let me take you over to the bed, okay. Lie on your side for me?” 

He guided you to the large bed, each element smelling distinctively of incense, crisp linen, the stale linger of his cologne on the pillow cases, and something that felt like him. Lying on your side and offering him a sweet smile, he crawled over your body and caged you beneath his broad shoulders and muscular arms. 

“I promise I won’t put it all in,” he whispered, pressing his lips against your shoulders and gently caressing him with each featherlight kiss, “Just the tip.” You nod at him, drawing your hand up and gently smoothing over the hair covering his ears. Falling behind your body, he jolted your knee forward with one of his own, lacing a lengthy thigh between yours, and lined his cock up against your glistening slit. 

The reason he asked to position you in the first place is so you didn't become frightened by that hungry look in his eyes. That soft little ‘just the tip,’ that fell so innocently from your lips almost had him cum on the spot. He couldn’t let you know how eager he was to try it, how desperate he was to just have the smallest amount of his cock buried in your pussy. Drawing his palm down to your ass, he gently spread your cheek and exposed your entrance to him from behind. The shudder in his jaw matched the glaze of lust eclipsing his eyes. 

Testing your heat, he reached down further and flicked his digits over the slit and collected your arousal. You mewled at the soft contact, arching your back and gently rocking your ass against his hand. He chuckled in your ear, giving your shoulder blade a swift kiss. Scooping his unoccupied palm beneath the pillows under your head, he cradled your chest against his body and lined up his cockhead with your warmth. 

“Comfy?” he asked you, reaching down with the hand cradling you and collecting one of your breasts within his palm. You nodded, collecting his knuckles beneath your chin and giving it a quick kiss. Taking that as consent, he gently rocked his hips forward and eased his fat tip inside your slick cunt. His eyes rolled back at the squeeze, almost becoming lost in the moment and wanting so desperately to claim more of you with himself.

You hissed at the small sting, your walls fluttering and straining to accommodate his girth with each soft stretch. He halted at the rim of his tip disappearing into your body completely, his knob fully nestled within your body. Releasing a sigh, you flopped your head onto his arm and leaned into his embrace. Although not completely uncomfortable, the stretch of his tip felt like all you could truly take of him. His entire length would simply overwhelm you, needing a lot of practice before you were able to take the whole shaft. 

“You okay, Heat?” you asked softly over your shoulder. The grip on your breast firmed, his arm seeming to vibrate with a soft quake. “Is this bad for you? Are you uncomfortable-?”

“-I’m t-trying not to cum,” he managed to stutter out, the hand on your ass moving to your hips to hold you stationary, “I-It-... It’s been a while. I-I-I’m gonna cum-!” 

A large smile split up your face, prompting you to boldly arch your back and rock his tip inside your slippery walls. He shuddered and shook against you, his tip never truly leaving your body while the soft rocking over the sensitive head drew him to the white-hot ecstasy he was desperately attempting to withhold. 

It only took a few more rocks before he came undone within your walls. The first few drops spilled over before he rocked his hips out of you and sprayed your back with his cum. He had no time to reach down and grip it before he was panting your name into your neck and spurting his release in white flashes over your ass. His choked whines and whimpers were caught in his throat, the little apologies flinging forth with each wave of release shooting against your skin.

“F-Fuck, fuck, shit,” he cried, his cock betraying him as he burried his face into your neck, “I-I’m sorry. ‘M sorry. It-... You-... So good.” You offered him a soft giggle, pressing your lips against his arm and flurrying a burst of soft kisses over his skin. Before you had the opportunity to offer him anything in response, he rolled you onto your back and withdrew back up between your knees. 

“This fucking pussy,” he growled playfully at you, “Is too fucking good. Gonna have to punish it a little bit.” He kissed up your thighs, throwing your knees over his shoulders, and uncaring about your back stamping his release onto his duvet. Eyes holding yours for a moment, he gives you a short wink before immediately surging forward and diving into your pussy. Tongue flicking, mouth claiming, head bobbing, and nose grinding, he was going to have you cum on his face a couple of times as a playful invoke of punishment. 

And then he was going to make you some potatoes. Any way you wanted them, he was going to make them for you. 

Wire

Wire's lips dropped to a somber pout, eyes downturning and tearing his gaze away from your own. Although he had consumed several of your orgasms with his lips, mouth and skilled tongue, he knew there was little chance his cock would be able to bury itself in your plush pussy. 

He was simply too big. Nine feet tall with a cock over one foot: achingly hard, desperately bobbing and leaking precum from his dark rose-colored tip. 

“I know. I'm sorry,” he whispered softly, gently clicking his tongue and attempting to mentally rid his body of desire. Sighing out a sorrowful exhale, Wire flopped onto his back and laced his hands behind his head with his eyes falling shut. His cock stood proud and neglected, his pretty tip twitching and begging wordlessly for stimuli. 

“Hey, look at me, honey,” your voice soothes down at him, your hands reaching for his cheeks and caressing his smooth skin and coarse facial hair. He scrunched his nose up and held his eyes closed in a tight clamp. Giggling at him, you shook your head before brushing your nose with his. 

“Fine,” you whisper, hovering your lips above his, “Be like that.” Pressing your lips against his in a chaste kiss, he barely had time to reciprocate it before he felt you withdraw from him completely. 

Slinking down his chest and over his stomach, you press soft kiss after soft kiss against his flesh. Mouthing at the skin, humming at the elevated goose flesh you leave in your wake, you map a trail down to his neatly cropped and trimmed happy trail. 

Lulling your tongue from your mouth, you lick a fat stripe up from his large vein on the underside, over each divot of elevation towards the frenulum. Mouthing delicately, romancing his cock with each open kiss, you manage to widen your lips enough to nearly encapsulate his cockhead between your lips. The corner of your mouth split the skin, stinging pain prompting you to wince at the tear. His tip was larger than the circumference of your fist, and you simply couldn't put that in your mouth without your teeth biting into it. 

“Don't-,” Wire whispered softly, his Adam's apple bobbing at the motion you were pressing against his skin, “Don't force it, sweetheart. I know it won't fit. It's okay, truly.” He reached down and cupped your cheek, drawing you up to cradle you against his chest.

“But-,” you tried to relay, cut off immediately with a harsh whisper down into your scalp. 

“-I said ‘don't’,” he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead, “It brings me pleasure to bring you pleasure. I don't need anything from you, sweetheart.” He pinched your chin between his thumb and index finger, drawing your eyes up to meet his. “I just want you.” His hand relaxed against your face, caressing your skin in slow, soothing circles. 

You hum into his hand, closing your eyes and leaning your lips lower to press a sweet kiss against his palm. He chuckles in response to such a softness from your earlier sultriness. Embracing you in silence against his chest, his cock twitched and began to reduce with his restraint. 

Looking down between you, your legs and ass barely make it to his stomach with the height difference. Lulling your head to the side, you take your lips into your mouth and gaze longingly at his cock. 

“...What if we don't put it in?” you offer, intrigue being met by his cock pulsating and slowly swelling back to life. 

“Don't start, sweetheart. It was just going down,” he grumbled at you, chuckling against your head. You rolled your head back up to meet him, pouting up at him and doeing your eyes at him innocently. 

“What if you fuck my thighs? I can grind your cock on my clit and get it all wet and messy for you?” you offer as if asking him what he wanted for lunch, completely nonchalantly, “You can cum on my stomach or ass, anywhere you want, and I'll say ‘please' and 'thank you’?” Wire growls down at you, his deep baritone vibrating against your shoulder. 

“You can't look at me like that and spurt such filthy shit, sweetheart,” he moved his body up, sitting with you on his chest and manhandling you effortlessly, “Sends me mixed messages. I want to take care of you first, dote on you and make sure you’re feeling safe and secure, and on the other hand, I want to use your thighs as my personal flesh light and fuck them until I'm satisfied.”

Without skipping a beat, you smile back up at him. 

“Use my thighs as your personal flesh light and fuck them until you're satisfied please,” you chirped happily up at him, prompting him to immediately clasp your thighs together and slot his exceptionally large cock between your wet pussy and your thighs. 

“You asked for it, sweetheart.”

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

[don-mellow]

Ouch.

[jintaka-hane]

The Thief

Masterlist

Summary: When you're hungry, the concept of food ownership doesn’t exist for you. Be careful, or you’ll end up having to learn it the hard way. Word count: 540 Notes: Wire x gn!reader; hunger; rough kissing; lying; stealing; brat tamer

Your stomach growls like a Grand Line sea beast as you reach for the fridge door.

You need food. Any food. And fast.

But as you open the fridge, both the disappointment and the pale white light spill out onto your face.

The top shelf is desolately empty. On the second shelf, just a tray with three tiny grapes. And on the third… oh! A neatly wrapped sandwich? With curiosity, you grab it, holding it up to your nose for a sniff. Peanut butter and jelly… exactly what you need right now. You turn it in your hand to inspect it and notice a small handwritten label.

W.

You shrug, toss aside the label and the wrapping, and devour it like there’s no tomorrow. You’re wiping your mouth with the sleeve of your sweater when Wire strides into the kitchen, his usual serious expression in place.

“Oi,” he greets you curtly, and you wave your hand.

Heading straight for the fridge, he bends his towering frame to peer inside. You hear a low growl as he straightens up again, and his gaze locking onto you, his eyes darting quickly to your lips.

“Did you eat my sandwich?”

You gulp.

“No,” you reply, quickly brushing a crumb from the corner of your mouth. You don't want to stick around any longer so you head for the door, trying not to look too suspicious.

“Wait,” he grabs your forearm when you pass by. “You’re not lying to me, right?” His dark eyes bore into yours, and your voice waver a little.

“No, Wire, of course not!”

He chuckles.

Before you know it, his large hands circle your waist and your feet are off the ground, your body spinning in the air until your shoulder blades hit the wall. You gasp, struggling to keep your balance, and instinctively grab onto the harness strapped across his chest. Long fingers grasp your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and as soon as your face aligns with his, his mouth crashes into yours.

The kiss is rough, possessive and hungry. His jaw rotates with impatience, adjusting the angle until his tongue forces its way in without invitation. Your bruised lips let him in, and he takes his time, playfully seeking your tongue with his, savoring every inch of your mouth while he keeps you pinned against the wall. He lets out a low hum of acknowledgment, and just as abruptly as the kiss started, he pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more.

“Liar,” he says, his darkened eyes darting between yours and your lips.

His hands find the back of your thighs, lifting you just a little higher, and your legs instinctively wrap around his waist. Then he carries you to the countertop and settles you there, his large body leaning over you.

“I came here to eat, and I’m not leaving until I do,” he growls, his breath warm against your skin as he captures your mouth again, reaching back to shut the kitchen door behind him.

You grin against his lips, the little sanity you have left already planning to eat everything labeled with a ‘W’ in the fridge from now on.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail @armiliadawn @pandora-writes-one-piece @i-am-vita @eustasscapitankid <3

[thamaris]

very expensive...

[reejindeed]

Simple color comm for @wgwingguns

[eustassslut]

Stage the Revolution!, a Rock Band au! Kid Pirates fic series | coming soon

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