#still need to give one to oro..

[one-idea]

I love a Roger/Rouge lives to raise Ace or a Shanks takes Luffy with him one-shot as much as anyone.

But the main problem I always have is that the ASL brothers would never meet in these circumstances. So my brain (being the mess that it is) has tired to find a solution.

What if Rodger never got sick or at least it was not as deadly as it was. Still chronic but not a death sentence. He lives and Rouge has Ace (she gets pregnant a little later then in cannon so that she doesn’t have the crazy long pregnancy but Ace is still the same age).

To keep his family safe they travel with him on the Oro Jackson. They stay to relatively calm waters that the marines can’t easily get to. Some of the crew also leave to make their own crews. This gives the marines something else to chase.

Shanks is one of the ones to set out on his own. He leaves when he’s around 17 right around the time Ace is born. It’s the push he needs to set out. He wants to distract the marines as much as possible from Roger’s family. (Buggy did the same thing. They decided to split up to cause more mayhem)

Ten years go by. Shanks visits Roger when he can but for the most part he’s making a name for himself. And he’s doing a good job at it. So good he has to lay low for a while. So he decides to go to the East Blue for a bit. Get away from the Grandline while also hiding somewhere different than Roger. (That way if the marines find him they won’t also find Roger)

It’s here that he meets a 7 year old Luffy. And it plays out much the same as cannon. He adores this little ball of sunshine. This is his boy. He doesn’t care who the boy’s blood father is this, is his boy. So he gives him his hat, has Luffy promise to return it when he’s a great pirate someday. But he leaves out the part about that being the next time they see each other because he wants to see his boy again.

When Shanks returns to the Grandline he seeks out Roger to tell him about their new family member. And Roger hears about this boy who is sunshine incarnate, who dreams to be the freest person alive, who wants to dethrone him as pirate king and goes, “I can’t not meet him.” And there’s no way he’s waiting till the kids on the sea. (Plus Ace needs some friends. Shanks and Buggy had each other, Ace has no one his own age and Rouge is starting to worry for their son.)

So they set out for the sleep island in the East Blue.

Meanwhile Grap has moved Luffy to Dadan’s care. While Luffy is out wondering around he bumps into a blond haired boy named Sabo. It takes a while but Sabo starts to warm up to the 7 year old that’s following him like a shadow.

Just in time for a new kid to wander his way into their jungle. Oro Jackson has Docked and Roger has been (discreetly) looking around for this Luffy while the crew restocks. Ace has already made his way into the jungle because even though he was raised by his parents, he’s still feral. (He was raised on a pirate ship go figure) the three boys bump into each other and through some shenanigans Ace and Sabo start to get along.

It doesn’t take long for Sabo and Luffy to figure out who Ace’s dad is. You know since they actually get to meet them.

The Bluejam pirates still happen.

Maybe Ace doesn’t like Luffy at first. He’s a little kid and is annoying in the way all older kids find younger kids that just want to follow them around annoying. But it’s more than that, because Shanks has claimed Luffy. Shanks, who Ace grew up around and looks up to, came back to the ship and didn’t want to talk about anything except for this ‘amazing’ kid. This kid who his uncle/older brother gave up his arm to save. This kid who is so ‘special’ his dad just had to come and meet him. This kid who has his dad wrapped around his finger in under a day. This kid, who is wearing his Dad’s old hat like a crown and talking about dethroning his dad like it’s his right. This little crybaby who’s not even that special. He can’t even swim!

Even Sabo has a soft spot for the kid, Sabo who is now Ace’s first friend, but he obviously likes Ace better because Luffy is such a crybaby.

But then the Bluejam pirates show up and they heard that the king of the pirates is here with his son. His son he would do anything for. Wouldn’t it be nice to get the bounty for the king of the pirates? If they have his son they can probably force the man into handing himself over. They wouldn’t even have to fight him!

They set out to capture Ace. They see him hanging around Sabo and Luffy. When they attack Ace and Sabo get away but Luffy gets caught. He gets tortured as they ask him to give up the location of the Roger Pirates so that they can capture Ace and by extension Roger. But Luffy won’t tell them anything.

Roger comes to save him. The whole crew comes along with Ace and Sabo. After this the three boys are inseparable. Ace steals some of the crew’s sake and the three swear to become brothers.

While the three boys are doing this. Roger sent some men to find the rest of the Bluejam’s crew and find out about their plan to burn Grey Terminal and how they were hired by Sabo’s father. And that settles it for him. If there was any doubt in Roger’s mind that he was taking Sabo with them when they left this island it was gone now. He thought the boy was oddly dressed for a homeless boy, finding out he was a noble explained a lot. He’s not leaving the boy in this situation. Mainly because Ace finally has a friend/brother. Finding out that adopting the boy would make a noble lose their mind was a bonus!

But what about Luffy? He knows Shanks thinks of the boy as a son. He’s know he is Ace and Sabo’s brother, and they haven’t left his side since the kidnapping. Rodger has no clue who the boy’s family is. At this point Luffy has only introduced himself as Luffy. He lives with the bandits but they are not his family. So it’s seems like he’s got no one truly taking care of him. Honestly Roger is shocked Shanks didn’t just take Luffy with him when he left.

So Roger leaves the island. Stealing one noble son. And taking what he believes to be one free child with him. (There are no parents around to claim him? It’s free real estate) they sail away right as a navy ship is approaching. And Roger would recognize that ship anywhere. It’s Garp! What is Garp doing here? Was Roger that careless with his location. The Oro Jackson hasn’t had a true Marine encounter in years (Rouge is just that good at navigating them under the radar)

Garp sees them, of course he does. Roger sees Garp grab a den den mushi, one that projects his voice across the open sea between them. Roger is expecting his regular speech about how Garp is going to catch them, about how they should surrender, really any of their normal banter.

What he is not expecting is the very loud, very panicked, very angry “give me back my grandson!”

Roger and the crew slowly turn to face the three boys. It’s not Ace. Roger would know if he or Rouge were related to Garp but he still checks Ace off the list.

It can’t be Sabo. Roger can’t imagine a reality where Garp lets his child marry a noble. Plus the kid looks nothing like him.

That leaves Luffy.

“Luffy, what was your name again?” Rouge asked ever patient

“Monkey D. Luffy!” The boy says with confidence. It’s the first time the crew has heard the surname. Well, at least that confirms somethings.

After confirming that yep this is Garp’s grandson. Who he is apparently trying to train to be a marine? Who he’s apparently hit with haki infused punches. (Roger’s been hit with those. They hurt.) Roger grabs their own den den mushi and just calls out “finder keepers.” And they sail away to cannon fire and cursing.

Anyhow the three brothers grow up together on the Grandline. Shanks visits when he can and calls once a week at least if not daily to check in on Luffy and the boys.

Whitebeard definitely crosses paths with Rogers at some point and tries to adopt the boys from him. Rogers would fight him if Rouge wasn’t already fighting Whitebeard over her babies. In the end he becomes the fun uncle. Ace adores him. This is Roger’s worst nightmare! (It’s not. There are way worse things that could happen than his son liking his rival. But Roger loves to be dramatic)

When it’s time to make their own crews Ace and Luffy both decide to start from the East Blue. Getting dropped off by the Roger pirates.

At some point Sabo found out about the revolutionary army and decided that he wanted to join rather than be a pirate. He has his family’s full support (as long as he calls once a week. If he doesn’t they will find him) When he meets his boss for the first time he almost loses his mind and immediately calls Roger’s with a “I think I just met Luffy’s dad!” To which he gets the hilariously confused response of, “You’ve known Shanks since you were ten. What do you mean you just met Luffy’s dad?”

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #fire fist ace #one piece ace #portagas d. ace #gol d. ace #gol d. roger #portages d. rouge #shanks #one piece sabo #revolutionary sabo #sabo #I have thought about this for days. I just want one timeline where they all get to be together #roger approaching Ace: we have to take these kids with us for a bit. #Ace: these are my brothers now. we are taking them forever wether you like it or not. they’re mine now #asl brothers

[beanghostprincess]

Silly vampire buggy being so very normal about it while the rest are absolutely FERAL is so funny.

Buggy, before Roger passed, still on the Oro: hmm, I'm kinda thirsty-

Shanks, ripping his already open shirt further off: Oh Dear, Oh My Look At ALL THIS So Very BITEABLE SKIN, Sure Hope There's No VAMPIRES Thirsting Near Me, Wink Wink!!!!

Buggy: I bet Gabban still has some juice boxes. I hope he has that guava one. I'll be right back!

Shanks, half naked and drooping: 🥺😟😥😫

<><><><><><><><><>

Mihawk: I read this interesting novel yesterday which gave me much to ponder.

Buggy: oh? Awesome! Which was it?

Mihawk, side-eying Buggy pointedly: it was a supernatural romance between a human and vampire. It was rather explicit and had many scenes which piqued my interest.

Buggy, absolutely Not Getting It: oh man. I usually hate those. It's a toss up between bad writing or the vampire is always a top. Like? Give me gay bottom vampires too, we deserve to be recognized!! Oh, Hawky, can you hand me my sunscreen?

Mihawk: ........... here.

Buggy: thanks, love!

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Crocodile: hey you drink blood.

Buggy, sipping A+ out of a care bear cup: yeah?

Croc: does it work on Logia users? Or would your fangs need Haki to pierce us?

Buggy: hm. Good question? I dunno, actually!

Crocodile: seems this could be a learning experience. Would be a shame to not experiment. I know how much you like your science.

Buggy: I do like science. Yeah. Yeah. You're right! I SHOULD experiment on that!!

Croc, unbuttoning his shirt, tugging down his cravat: uh huh, well, I suppose we ought to get to it- where are you going

Buggy: to my workshop! Science waits for no man!!! Nor clown, in my case. Man clown? Vampire? Who knows. Wait. Am I a man...? Hm, what is the gender today... wait, have I eaten at all? I don't remember. Anyway, I need to grab my suit, I'm low on sunscreen again. Oh, remind me to add that to the next shipment request. Oh, I should also grab a bloody mary!! That sounds great! Okay. Bye bye!!

Croc, halfway undressed, watching Buggy run outside, start swearing bc he didn't pull up his hood and is cursing the light, before tripping flat onto his face: ............. shit.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Buggy rarely pushes the limits of his abilities BECAUSE of the vampirism. If he uses his DF more than usual, it makes him hungrier. And once he hits a certain point, he begins to lose his already loosey-goosey sense of humanity. It scares him to be so cold and uninterested, especially since he always feels things turned up to eleven. When his hits that point, EVERYTHING turns off. At best, he'll be mildly annoyed, angry, amused - but it's like being in a glass bowl, watching things happen from the outside. It terrifies him.

His partners...? Well. It does things to them too, but terror isn't exactly the dominating feeling... 👀

((Also, the romanticism of blood. Of life energy. Of an exchange of that out of love. Of giving parts of yourself to sustain and satiate another. Carrying pieces of someone else in your body to propagate your own life. Of giving and taking consensually the liquid which carries your time. The inherent provocative nature of taking someone else's essence into yourself with full permission and full understanding because they receive so much from you in turn that it is simple, easy, logical to consent to this.))

Vampires 🥰

THE FIRST ONE IS SO REAL EFJKBWEJKBWJEKBF Shanks does that constantly he's DYING for Buggy to bite him and the clown won't even notice he's trying so much. It's ridiculous. Shanks and his failguy moment simping for a vampire that doesn't want his blood.

Mihawk and Crocodile trying to flirt and failing miserably because Buggy is always oblivious to what they do is amazing and no matter the AU it's always like this. I adore. They just want their vampire boyfriend to bite them :(( Failguys.

The last thing you said is so real. Vampires can be something so romantic and I think usually books/TV shows/Media in general don't focus on the important stuff. I want to see teen!Shuggy with Buggy and Shanks traveling together right after the crew disbands (before Roger's death) and Buggy not having access to other types of blood. So Shanks offers him his blood and they have like-- This moment of realization of how intimate it is. And Buggy will forever remember what it felt like to feel Shanks' embrace while sucking his blood without any complaints. And!! Both Mihawk and Crocodile wanting to do the same but it's definitely just for the horny, they don't expect it to be so passionate and intimate, and romantic.

Also, I agree with Buggy, the vampire should be the bottom. Really necessary for this situation.

#this is amazing thank you for this masterpiece #i genuinely laughed so loud with the first one #one piece #buggy the clown #red haired shanks #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #shuggy #bughawk #crocobug #cross guild

[hellcifrogs]

I like the idea of orochimaru just sweeping up all three of them and becoming the worst mother hen ever

it starts easy with sasuke bc what??? you want him to Not look after his future vessel??? that boy needs to eat his vegetables and take proper care of his injuries

naruto starts as an attempt at manipulation, the boy grew up hated by the village and with a bare minimum of care, a hair ruffle here and there, the occasional kind word, and tasty snacks should get him onside pretty quick right? but then oro starts doing these things without thinking about future pay off (omg do you think he'd break into konoha to get naruto a bowl of ichiraku ramen when naruto did something he was really pleased with)

sakura is actually the one he spends the most time with, she has brilliant chakra control and can actually understand theory! and science! and has the patience for research! and will sit with him and discuss it while the boys are off in the background hitting each other with sticks or smth! she also craves validation, and you want him to not give it to her after she looks at him with those big green eyes, and adorable pink hair, after finally nailing a tricky jutsu??? ridiculous

maybe he also steals sai for them as a treat after the first time they meet him and subsequently develop the most embarrassing crush on him, he wouldn't be himself if he let a little thing like the law/danzo/konoha stand between his monsters and expanding their polycule

so now orochimaru is mama-bear to three terrible little gremlins, and kabuto is their weird but adored cousin ig

jiraiya and tsunade are stunned the first time they see their still-a-horrible-war-criminal ex-bf fussing over the three kids that he stole

When I say half of this fandom shares a braincell! This is what I made him do in the NaruFox too 🤣😭 deep down we all wanna see good old murderous Orochimaru be turned into a soft parent by team 7 and taka!

#ask ffrogs

[cowboyjigen]

when the wind blows aka roger comforting his daughter when she needs him

warnings: fem reader obvs by the title lol, this is really just a self indulgent fix cause i’ve been feeling bad recently and watching the roger flashbacks

the sea was quiet: a rare sight especially on the grand line. but still there was a certain silence filling the oro jackson. it was painful almost. the normally jolly crew had been shushed as soon as the smile on their captains face dropped, also a rare sight.

“something’s wrong.” roger finally spoke up.

“what’s could possibly be wrong, roger?” rayleigh quipped a small laugh leaving his mouth. roger was not amused by his best friends joke. “roger, everything is fine. it’s just a quiet night is all.”

roger huffed, “maybe i’m just tired.” as if they knew something everyone else didn’t, shanks and buggy shared a look before silently skittering away. taking another sip of his drink, roger glanced around at his crew.

“they head in for the night, not like anything is jumping for your attention right now, captain.” roger nodded in agreement to what gaban had said, setting his mug down and pushing himself up.

“right, i’ll head in then.” with a final nod, he moved towards his cabin.

when he finally approached the door to his quarters, there stood shanks and buggy firmly blocking the door. “can i help you two?”

“sorry captain we can’t let you in here.” shanks was the one who spoke up, not to much surprise on rogers behalf.

“and why is that?”

“strict orders captain.” buggy nodded while speaking

“stricter than those of your captain?”

the blue haired boy paled a bit but shanks stood his ground, “yes sir, she said she’d kick our asses if we let anyone in until she said we could.”

oh. oh.

it made sense to roger now. not just the boys standing unwavering in front of his door but also why it felt so quiet. “i’m afraid you’re just gonna have to have your asses kicked boys.” they shared a look, “or if you let me in now, i’ll put in a good word for you.”

the two nodded at eachother before splitting ticket roger through. “but if she asks, you fought us to get it! we didn’t give up easily!”

roger laughed slightly and nodded, pushing the door open. “sweetie?” stifled sobs rang out from the corner of the room.

they belonged to a lump in the sheets that quivered every few seconds when a particular loud cry would sound. “no one’s here, go away.”

humoring her, roger sat himself on the floor next to his own bed. “hmm we’ll if no one is here then i guess i can crawl in my bed and sleep then.” he emphasized his words by pressing down onto the wood boards below which let out a strong creaking noise.

“go away, dad.”

“oh so there is someone in here! i got worried there was a ghost for a second!” turning around on the floor, roger lifted the blankets covering his daughter. “what’s got you like this, kid?”

he crawled in next to her, holding her close. she shook her head into his chest. “no. it’s embarrassing.”

“cant be too embarrassing right? would it make you feel better if i told you something embarrassing first to make it feel better?”

“maybe, it depends.”

roger smiled before pretending to think hard about what he was going to share. “let’s see, back when it was just me and uncle rayleigh i spent a dumb amount of time trying to figure out what outfit would be the best to wear incase the marines took my mug. well one day i was take a bit longer than normal and uncle rayleigh walked in on me half naked in this ugly frilly shirt.” Y/N sat there giggling in his arms, “see? makes you feel a bit better about you right?”

she nodded slightly before frowning again, “i miss mom.” roger stiffened. he too missed rouge, it had been a few weeks since they had last seen each other. “see it’s embarrassing!” tears once again threatened her eyes but roger just held her tighter.

“it’s not embarrassing sweetie, i miss her too.” he combed his fingers through her hair, “but we’ll see her soon. we’re on our way back right now remember? and then she’ll be on the ship with us for a while.”

“i know, it’s just. sometimes i just feel like i need someone to talk to and she’s not here and,” she continued to ramble on before roger interrupted her.

“you know you can always talk to me right?”

“well yeah but you’re busy, i don’t want to distract you because of my dumb troubles.”

“nothing you say could be dumb to me sweetie. you’re still my daughter.”

she nodded, “thank you dad.”

“of course.” the pair sat there in each others arms for a few minutes before a knock came from the door. it opened to reveal shanks, buggy, and rayleigh. “how much of that did you guys hear?”

“say Y/N, do you want to see the picture of your dad in that shirt?”

“don’t you dare rayleigh.”

#i don’t feel like tagging #this has been in the drafts for a minute #one piece #gol d roger #roger op #roger x reader #roger imagine #it’s a roger dad drabble #gol d roger x reader #gol d roger imagine #one piece fic #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #dad fic #female reader #fem reader #she/her pronouns #⚓️; one piece #i want to be queue

[pinkwormholes]

Buggy x Shanks x Mihawk prompt: All three of these guys' paths end up crossing somehow and Buggy's still deeply hurt by Shanks not wanting to find the One Piece with him when they were growing up together. He angrily berates Shanks for breaking his heart, at which point Mihawk steps in and actually calms Buggy down by both admitting Shanks broke his heart too when he sacrificed his sword arm and could no longer be his one true rival. He tells Buggy that it's just what Shanks does, his most devastating move. Mihawk and Buggy both give Shanks looks of reproach before walking away together, leaving Shanks devastated and pining for both the Star Clown and the Strongest Swordsman. How is he every gonna gain back both their hearts?

The pain this one will bring This is better formatted on ao3

Mihawk wanted one day of privacy with Buggy. They had been out doing something that left the mind that the second he had caught wind the the Red Haired Pirates where here. He had tried to guide the clown back to the ship. Trying to blend them into the crowd. All that was stooped the moment he heard that stupid voice call out to the Clown.

The swordsman felt the clown stop beside him. He glanced over seeing how he was staring at something. Or well someone.

"You don't have to acknowledge him." The yellow eyed man said threw deaf years it seemed. Mihawk had tried to take Buggy's hand to which he simply popped off as the clown went straight to the other pirate captain.

"Oh hey

"Oh hey he says." Buggy rolled his eyes. "What are you doing here? This is our territory you are trespassing leave now."

"Come on Buggy. Just getting supplies' maybe I can stay the night." Shanks tried to take the clowns hand.

The clown gave and over exaggerated annoyed groan pulling away.

"You have a lot of nerve." He was about to go straight to the stupid Yanko's face and punch him when he felt himself being grabbed by the waist.

"Don't waste your time clown. I'm sure there more reckless decisions Red Hair can make elsewhere anyways." All the words directed to the clown was soft. The last bit punctured with a glare towards the unwanted pirate.

The swordsman shot a warning glare to the redhead as he turned said person to face him. Mihawk was sure the only one who noticed the hurt that fell on Shanks face as the wight of it hit him. See how in love the people he held so close to his own heart. The ones he knew he needed most. So in love and so hurt from his actions.

The clown and swordsman had many spouts of talking about how hurt he had been by the other. Stories they had shared. Feelings that had tied them together like string.

Mihawk had shared the night's he had spent after long fights. How he felt when he had figured out Shanks had lost his arm. Something he hadn't got until he met Luffy. It still didn't erase the hurt. He may have claimed it was for the lack of being able to fight and that is what he had told his clown too. But it was the lack of self preservation. The lack of keeping himself safe so he could be back.

Buggy had shared about his time with Shanks on the Oro Jackson. How he felt about Shanks. What they did together. And how he was just left so carelessly. It was never about the devil fruit. Not truly when he sat and thought to long.

The swordsman watched the Yanko walk away. He could tell that would not be the end they would hear of Shanks before the day ended.

~~~ That interaction had left them down one clown. Much to Mihawks annoyance. He had decided to let the clown be for a hour while he made sure everyone knew not to bother him for the rest of the day. Before getting his and Buggy's dinner going over to where he had left the blue haired clown.

Buggy hadn't move sitting on his one of the couches in the tents the had everywhere. He was sat in a way that Mihawk could sit behind him staring off into space.

"I brought food you should at least eat some." Mihawk said setting the food down on a table in front of him before sitting behind the clown. Gently placed himself behind the clown gently moving him into his lap. He gently kissed the back of his head before undoing the pigtails his love had put his hair in. gently running her hand threw his hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The swordsman asked. That earned him a headshake. "Alright please eat though."

The clown blinked as if he hadn't have noticed the food but grabbed the plate starting to eat it and even feeding Mihawk some. Which seemed the only option as the yellow eyed man was not letting go.

He had gently braided the clowns hair so it wouldn't be a bother of things that he would have to do that night.

It was comfortable silence until a very obvious fake bouquet of flowers where thrown into the tent. They looked very badly hand crafted. Black and blue. Both the shades of their hair.

The two had decided to ignore the flowers. Knowing the second they go over they'd be sucked by in.

"You're not mad at him just because I am are you?" Buggy's voice was way to soft.

"Defiantly not. I doubt it is anymore than physical."

Another set of flowers thrown.

There was a pause but Buggy had decided to go get them.. Placing one of them on his lap.

"Couldn't even buy the real thing." Mihawk rolled his eyes.

"They make me sneeze." Buggy said as he noticed that there was writing on the flowers. Little memories and things he liked about each of the. Ones about Mihawk on the black one and one for him on the blues. All in the petals

"Look at them." The blue haired male put the flowers his partners arms. He knew he couldn't help the fond smile that was on his face.

The raven haired male looked up at him after reading the flowers on his own. This was so much effort. For something he could tell Shanks knew might not even work.

"Hm why don't you go let him in then?"

The clown nodded going out to do so. It might still be a long path. But they'd be okay. All three of them.

#buggy x shanks #buggy x mihawk #captain buggy #shuggy #mishanks #mihawk xshanks x buggy #I don't like my writing but fddvmnc #I loved the rollercoster this was

[mangekyuou]

✸  headcanons  %  when you paint their nails.

✸    characters! . . .  jinbei, crocodile, mihawk, shanks, roger, rayleigh, oden & kaido.

✸    cw(s)! . . .  n/a. no pronouns used. not proofread.

✸    notes! . . .  i usually never THIS many characters for headcanons. but i needed my ESDs, emotional support dilfs. they’ve been on my mind.

you originally asked to paint his nails because you wanted to see what a particular color looked like. but then it actually looked really cute on him, so you kept going

your loveable cuddle teddy bear doesn’t mind at all. definitely tries his best to model it for you

is the best model. he’s so precious :((

is very proud of your work and shows them off any time anyone asks

adores when you paint his nails to match his kimonos, especially when you add little designs that match the accents/patterns. he could just smother you in kisses

he loves when you give him sea themed nails. he adores that you want to remind him of his home. no one has done anything like that for him before

you don’t know how much it really means to him

tells you no but lets you do it anyway, only one nail tho he says…until he realizes it looks kinda weird, so he lets you do the whole hand

pretends he’s not interested in the slightest and has better things to do

but in reality he’s watching you the whole time, thinking how cute you are when you’re focused

he only wants black but has broadened his horizon to red. but any other color outside of those two is “not his type”

throughout his day when he’s not with you, he’ll look at his nails and be reminded of you

the type to take offense on your behalf if someone says something about his nails and will definitely over-exaggerate the situation to the extreme for the sake of making a point so that no one ever disrespects you again

you two give each other manicures

he’s probably better than you at it. his nail art is always so precise. he should run a side business if he ever gets tired of the pirate gig

mihawk himself prefers fall colors, your reds, oranges, deep purples, and golds. you know something that looks quite nice holding a wine glass

he doesn’t mind the occasional white though. but he doesn’t think green looks good on him

mihawk takes perfect care of his nails. he is going to make your work last !!

they always look so pretty when he’s holding his sword

mihawk loves matching nails with you. even if it’s a color he doesn’t particularly think suits him well

he asks you to paint his nails. don’t ask him why, because he doesn’t know, he just wants his nails painted

is terrible at staying still, he moves every five seconds, making you mess up. takes you longer to do his one hand than both of yours😭😭

shanks loves colors that pop out, especially ones that do not match his fit at all

he wants hot pink, the brightest shade of yellow around, even neon green

he wants acrylics so bad. he just loves the sound of nail tapping. but knows they’re going to hinder him further because he doesn’t know how to open things with them and will not take the time to learn

he’s too stubborn to. he’ll chip a nail or two for a bottle of beer without regrets

roger only becomes interested when he sees you painting your nails on the deck of the oro jackson

he practically flops in front of you with one of his hands already out. roger has his feet up in the air, kicking back and forth as you paint his nails

he likes all colors. and he doesn’t particularly want his nails to be all one color. plus he likes glitter

just go ahead and give him glitter rainbow nails

roger would like to try acrylics, only because you have had them before and he liked your set. he wants the exact same set you had

of course they don’t last long because he isn’t a fan of how they feel. they are quite pretty, but not for him.

was glad he tried them out though

has had his nails painted many times before, and a few of those times he did it himself

but when you do it, it’s special. and he definitely makes the actual process difficult with his constant flirting

and the way he’s looking at you ?? he’s doing it on purpose

loves wearing your favorite color(s). loves it, even more, when his nails match your outfit

he is another supporter of matching couple nails. he’s the one who suggests it. he paints your nails, you paint his over drinks

or sometimes he’ll just paint yours and massages your hands ( among other things of course ) and let you vent about your day

has had his nails painted before back in wano. izou and kiku did it. back then he definitely hated it. with you ?? oh he loves every second of it. 

his eyes light up like christmas trees. you can without a doubt feel the love and admiration radiating off of him

he usually wants red to match his eyeliner or purple to match his nio-dasuki

after you finish his nails he likes to hold your face in his hands. it’s become a habit of his

is also not good at keeping his nails looking good. when they dry, he purposely peels off paint just so you can do it again just for an excuse for you to paint his nails again

he likes how gentle you are with him <3

he loves it :(((

it’s one of the few moments you get to see him

he loves when you paint his nails. he is as still as a rock when you’re doing your craft because he doesn’t want to mess you up

he enjoys darker colors like black, dark red, and dark purple

but he won’t pass up a cute lighter blue, only because you said it matched his dragon form scales

he’ll do any color you put on him really. who’s gonna make fun of kaido for wearing hot pink nail polish and live to see another day ??

makes little requests for designs he thinks would look nice on him. he wants gems babe. the shinier the better, he wants his nails to be seen

© MANGEKYUOU.

#one piece #jinbe #jinbei #one piece jinbe #jinbei x reader #jinbe x reader #crocodile #crocodile one piece #crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #shanks #shanks x reader #gol d. roger #roger #roger x reader #silvers rayleigh #rayleigh #rayleigh x reader #kozuki oden #oden #oden x reader #kaido #kaido one piece #kaido x reader #one piece x reader #one piece headcanons #one piece imagines #night rather than day ── 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘭𝘪𝘰. 𓂃 ★☆

[harudnae]

I posted a fic already today, but it's the weekend so here's an extra snack!

I was really obsessed with them when I started writing this so a very horny, very smutty Roger Pirates Monster Trio x Reader fic. This one might be a bit unhinged but hey, at least I had fun!

Well, actually I'm still obsessed so there will be more fics with them.

Also, regarding word count: YES I went overboard. There's roughly 3k of padding around pure smut, you've been warned.

I told you: obsessed.

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.01.19

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Gaban x Rayleigh x Roger x F!Reader (mostly everyone x Reader but every other subcombination is either implied or explicitly included)

Summary: A luxurious summer island, fresh supplies galore, including ripe, sweet and slightly spicy, absolutely delicious but unidentified fruit. What could possibly go wrong?

(A stupidly horny story where Reader's curiosity gets the better out of her, and she gets completely wrecked in return.)

Content warnings : aphrodisiacs, oral sex (Reader giving & receiving), vaginal sex, anal sex, squirting, creampie, sloppy seconds, double penetration, orgasm denial

Word count: <16k

🍑 Forbidden Fruit

After long weeks at sea, the Oro Jackson moors at an uninhabited summer island.

Part of the crew sets up camp under Rayleigh and Gaban's supervision, and the rest is tasked with gathering fresh food.

You got your sea legs long ago, but it's always nice to set foot on firm land once in a while, so you're grateful for the occasion. You've been sent out with the latter group and after scattering in every direction, you're exploring a section of the forest by yourself. The vegetation is dense so you need to rummage through thick bushes to find spots of interest, but you manage to pick up fruits, veggies and herbs that you know of, making sure everything is either ripe and ready to consume, or that it can wait a bit and will still be easily manageable once you're back at sea.

A sweet scent catches your attention and leads you to a small clearing a little further inland. There's a tree there, with bunches of fruits dangling from its branches, a little smaller than apples, deep orange marbled with crimson lines.

You grab a fruit and curiously examine it, feeling the velvety texture of its skin and inhaling its scent. "Ooh, smells like honey, I wonder if it's good?" You carefully press your thumbs into the fruit and it easily splits open, smearing your fingers with sweet juice. You pick the kernel out and tear a small bit from the fruit that you bring to your mouth.

It's tender and soft, melting on your tongue, sweet as expected though not too much, and slightly spicy as you swallow.

You groan in delight. "That's so good! Everyone is going to love this!" You fill up a full basket with the sweet fruit, eating a few of them on the way back to camp. Happy with your findings, you hum a song as you carry the basket full of delicious fruits towards the rest of the supplies.

Crocus sniffs the air as you pass by him, and curiously gazes up.

You beam. "Smells good, huh? I found those earlier!" You proudly show the contents of your basket.

Crocus frowns. "Uh, yeah, but that's a big no. You're going to put that back right where you found it, or this is going to be a long night ashore."

You frown. "Why?"

"Those are fire peaches. The sweet, honey-like scent those have? Basically aphrodisiac juice. The riper those peaches are, the stronger the aphrodisiac is. You gathered enough to turn this whole camp into a literal fuck-fest in a few hours, so..." As he trails out his gaze briefly flickers towards the cabin boys. "That won't do. Sorry, you'll have to find something else." He curiously tilts his head as he glances back at you. "You okay, (y/n)? You look a little pale."

"Uh. Just glad I didn't give any of these to anyone yet", you stiffly say.

Crocus squints. "You didn't eat any either?"

You quickly nod the negative. "Nope!" You force a smile then turn around and make a beeline for the forest. Once you're far enough from the camp you drop the basket, and slump down against a tree, holding your head between your hands. "Fuck... And I ate four of them? Five, maybe? No, nononono this can't be happening. And I lied to Crocus too, so there's no way I can go back on my word now. I'll have to manage somehow... Oh, fuck, I'm so screwed. Fuck!!"

The traitorous fruits, ripe and enticing, seem to taunt you from the basket where they lay.

"Oh, I am so getting rid of you", you grumble, then resume your walk, going as deep into the forest as you can to make sure nobody finds those damned peaches. Once you're done, you gather some more safe fruit and backtrack to join the rest of the crew. You're slightly light-headed when you're back by sunset, and the basket on your head wobbles a little. You try your best to balance it until your reach the tent where the supplies are stocked, but it's slipping from your grasp. "Oh–"

"There, there", Gaban says as he helps you balance the basket on your head again. "You good?"

"Yeah, a little dizzy is all." You clear your throat. "Summer islands, hot weather and all that", you quickly dismiss with a wave of your free hand.

"I'll help you then", Gaban offers, not giving you time or space for refusal as he grabs the basket, tagging alongside you as you store the fruit under a tent.

You take a deep breath once under the shade, it's a little cooler under the tent but the dizziness is still here, so you sit on the ground, not really hopeful but still wishing it'll go away.

Gaban curiously observes you. "If you feel that bad you should go to Crocus."

You fight against the urge to cringe at his words, and offer him a weak smile. "It's fine, really. I promise I'm fine, don't worry."

You're not fine.

Captain Roger called for a party when the sun came down, and everyone got busy with preparing a feast with what everyone found, drinks and everything. If any other occasion would have been a blast for you as well, tonight proves to be quite harder to handle than usual.

You don't drink much because your head has already been spinning for a while, and you have trouble focusing on something else than the urgently growing need inside of you. You tell yourself that you'll go to sleep early, probably masturbate for an hour or two, and everything will be alright, surely? Just the thought of touching yourself forces a tiny moan out from your lips. Bewildered, you quickly glance around you, glad everyone is having fun and being loud enough that nobody heard you. You exhale a strained sigh, swallow around the lump in your throat, then you move away from the rest of the group with the firm intent to lock yourself in your cabin and do whatever you can to deal with your demise, alone.

You're barely outside camp when you hear Gaban's voice behind you. "(y/n), you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine", you snap back and keep walking.

"Hey, is something wrong?", he asks as he grabs your arm.

You inhale a sharp breath and stiffen at the contact, warm and tingling. You quickly pull your arm out of reach and turn to him, wide-eyed.

Gaban stops dead in his tracks and curiously observes you. "You've been acting weird since earlier. Please, open up, I mean no harm."

Glancing down to avoid his gaze, your eyes find the hand that held you back, already dreaming to feel the contact of bare skin against yours again... Your eyes are drawn to his defined arm, his strong shoulder, his neck, and your head spins again as you observe the moonlight playing on his tanned skin, so kissable, making you wonder how he tastes... You finally reach his face, and find him so fucking handsome even with the worried frown creasing his forehead. Why is he so hot?

Gaban slightly tilts his head. "(y/n)?"

You shake your head to clear it from dangerous thoughts, and clear your throat. "I'm fine, I promise, I just need some sleep", you lie, hoping to get away with it.

"I'll walk you back, then."

You open your mouth to protest but your words die in your throat, suddenly dry at the mental images your brain conjures out of nowhere.

Gaban removes his glasses and leans in a little to make eye contact. "I'm worried about you, I just want to make sure you're doing good, alright?"

You stare at his mouth as he speaks, and you wet your own lips as your gaze drifts to the side only to fall onto his arm again. Fuck, I want him to hold me so bad... You close your eyes and try to ignore more mental images spawning behind your eyelids, then you straighten up and briskly resume your walk. "Whatever", you weakly say, heat rising up to your face.

Gaban walks by your side. "Did something happen?"

You stubbornly watch the path in front of you. "No."

"I don't buy it. Usually you're not that cold."

You huff a startled laugh. Actually, it's quite the opposite. "I told you... I'm just tired, that's it", you snap, a little more harshly than you intended.

"You look... pretty angry, rather than tired."

You heavily sigh.

"Not angry, annoyed maybe? Still, that's unlike you."

You hold your tongue and try your best not to acknowledge Gaban's body warmth as he walks closer to you. You quicken your pace a little, trying to put more distance between you and him.

"Either way, not tired."

You roll your eyes and keep walking in silence. Finally, hopes flares in your chest as you reach the ship. You grab the closest rope ladder and turn to him. "That's it, I'm going to bed. Thanks for everything."

He offers you a worried frown and a soft smile. "You sure?"

Fuck, he's really cute. Your gaze flickers to the side as you squirm on your feet, pressing your thighs together in an attempt to contain the fire growing inside you. "Yeah, I swear", you plead and look back up at him.

"Oi." Gaban grabs your face between his hands, studying you under the moonlight.

You can't repress a needy whine under his warm touch. Close, so close, so warm. You close your eyes, mortified.

"Look at me."

The order makes you squirm a little more, and you open your eyes again, pursing your lips in shame.

"What's wrong with your eyes?"

You blink. "What?"

"Um, I really think Crocus should see you."

"No, no! Please don't tell him", you beg, grabbing his forearms and trying to push him away.

"Sorry, not sorry, you're coming back to camp with me."

"You can't make me", you weakly protest, then you turn back towards the ship.

You barely set a first foot on the rope ladder when Gaban wraps his hands around your waist, and throws you over his shoulder. "Like hell I can't", he huffs.

The feeling of his hands around your waist, his body warmth you feel through your clothes, and the fact that he has no trouble handling you like this makes the fire inside you flare up. It takes you a couple of minutes to calm down, and only once you managed to even your breathing you realize he's walking back to the camp. "Gaban... Put me down", you whine.

"Nuh-huh. I don't know what's going on but you're not in your normal state."

"Please, you don't understand... I mean–" You sigh in defeat. "I'll see Crocus, I promise I will, but please, I don't want to be in the middle of everyone right now." Too much people, too warm, too sensitive.

Gaban sets you back on the ground, and firmly grabs your shoulders. "Look, I don't know what's going on but I'll be damned if I leave you like this."

You stiffen at the contact but do your best to focus on what he says.

"I can bring him back. But will you wait?"

You urgently nod.

He points at a fallen tree. "Alright, you sit there. If you're not here when I come back–"

"I will, I swear", you cut him. At this point it's no use hiding anymore, so you might as well get a proper diagnosis and maybe even some medicine to counter the effects of the goddamn fire peaches. You sit on the trunk in defeat, and focus on your breathing while you wait.

Gaban comes back a few minutes later with the doctor in tow, and sits on the trunk next to you.

Crocus kneels in front of you, and frowns as he examines your eyes. Then he shakes his head, heavily sighing. "How many fire peaches did you eat?"

You cringe and look between your feet. "Four? Five?"

Crocus huffs. "Thought so."

Gaban asks, "Fire peaches?"

Crocus sighs again. "Long story short, a powerfully aphrodisiac fruit. (y/n) brought some earlier, I warned her, she said she didn't eat any and went to throw everything away... and now we're here."

"Oh."

"How long is it gonna last?", you weakly ask, still glaring at the ground.

"Well, with the size of your pupils right now, I'd say you're in for a long, long night." The doctor shrugs. "Maybe 'til sunrise."

"Please, please tell me you have medicine against this. I can't spend the whole night like that."

"I'm afraid I don't! And I heard it can be painful if not relieved too, so... You might need to find someone willing to help you with–" He vaguely gestures at you with a hand. "...that."

"No, no, this can't be happening", you desperately whine as you bury your head between your hands, squirming on your seat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. You wish you could dig a hole deep enough to disappear into it.

Gaban clears his throat.

You give him a shy side-glance, noticing only now that he's been silent for a while.

He asks Crocus, "How painful?"

"Hmm, enough that any painkiller I have wouldn't change much. It supposedly gets worse as time passes, and with the amount she ate? I'm fairly sure it'll be awful. To be honest there's not much I can do at this point, but she'd rather be far from camp and in good company."

A darker shade dusting his cheeks, Gaban declares, "Okay. I'll do it."

You open wide eyes and your mouth falls a little agape.

He turns to you and softly explains, "That way, nobody else has to know. I understand now why you didn't want to join the rest of the crew earlier, and I don't want you to go through any more trouble."

You blink in disbelief.

"Great, then that's settled!" Crocus claps his knees and gets up. "Don't forget to drink lots of water, or you'll risk dehydration. Oh, and fire peaches are slightly psychoactive too, it tends to... loosen up people, lower their inhibitions and all that, so..." He waves as he returns to the party. "Have fun!"

Gaban stands up and offers his hand to help you up.

You exhale a shaky breath as you get up, the mere contact of his skin sending another powerful wave of arousal through your body. You have trouble breathing evenly as you walk back to the ship, eyes locked on the path under your feet. "I'm sorry", you murmur after a quiet while.

"What for?"

"For lying to you. To Crocus, too, and... now it's my fault you're stuck with me."

He thoughtfully hums. "I don't like that you lied, but I understand. It's not like you ate those fire peaches on purpose, right?" There's a pause, then he quietly says, "And I'm not "stuck", I offered my help because I wanted to."

You give him a side-glance. "You wanted to?", you echo in disbelief.

Cheeks a shade pinker than earlier, a shy smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Yeah. I'd rather–" He clears his throat. "I mean, it's bad enough that those fire peaches are strong enough to put you into physical pain, so I want to make sure you're okay."

The fire inside you keeps growing, and Gaban's kind attentions don't appease it much. You side-eye him as you reach the ship, let him help you up the rope ladder. Once you're in front of his cabin you turn to him and quietly ask, "Gaban?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't want to force you to do anything..."

"I told you I wanted to help."

You hold onto your wavering lucidity and press further, "Yeah, but... Would you do this if not for the fire peaches?"

His frown softens, a smile curls his lips. "Yeah, I would."

You sigh of relief, and as your shoulders are relieved from some tension you slump a little on yourself.

Gaban slides an arm around your waist for support. "Hey..."

You lean into his strong embrace, eyes fluttering shut as you bask in his warmth, yet yearning for his bare skin against yours.

"I'm sorry about the circumstances but... I wouldn't have volunteered if I wasn't into you."

You look up, slightly dizzy again. "Really?"

He nods and offers you his sweetest smile.

Your gaze lingers on his lips, you absentmindedly lick yours, and what's left of your resolve snaps there and then. You lean up to kiss him, wrapping your hands around his neck for support.

Gaban kisses you back, soft and gentle, and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you close.

You sigh of delight and slide your tongue between his parted lips, moaning into his mouth as you taste him. Your fingers tighten around his shirt, pulling him closer as you tilt your head to deepen the kiss, and you buck your hips towards him, seeking more friction.

He leans back a little, breaking the kiss, and reaches out for the door to his cabin behind you. "Let's get inside", he invitingly says, softly smiling.

You blink and realize you're still out on the deck. Crap, I'm already far gone. You rub the back of your head in embarrassment "Sorry", you sheepishly murmur as you get through the door.

"Trouble holding back?", he asks as he locks the door behind you.

You turn your attention back to him. "Yeah..."

Gaban moves back into your personal space and grabs your waist. "That's flattering", he says before leaning in to kiss you. He's bolder now, claiming your mouth and swallowing your moans, while his hands roam your back and sides. His hands are warm, so warm, making your skin tingle under his touch and crave direct contact.

Why are you still wearing clothes, again? Lost in sensation, you don't even notice he's walking you around until you bump backwards into the bed. You hurriedly climb onto the mattress and hungrily gaze as Gaban comes to lay next to you. Mind foggy, craving more, you straddle his hips and rock your hips as your hands explore the broad expanse of his chest.

He swallows under your eager touches.

You bite your lower lip and untie his sash, then remove his shirt. You lift a very interested eyebrow and stare a little longer than necessary once the irrelevant garments are out of the way. Your hands lay on his narrow hips, thumb tracing the sharp dip of the bone, then they travel up. Your fingertips tingle as his sun-kissed skin radiates warmth beneath yours, taut muscle flexing then relaxing under your touch as you move up, idly playing with his chest hair as you reach his pectorals. An irrepressible urge to taste him blooms inside you and you lean in to do just that.

Gaban exhales a deep hum and places his hands on your hips when you kiss his neck, and his fingertips slightly dig into your flesh as you start licking and nibbling your way down his shoulder.

A few encouraging moans only fuel your arousal further, and you gently bite his shoulder, before moving further down, nibbling his skin and tongue flicking over his nipples while your hands keep groping him. You want his skin, want his voice, want to eat him raw, ready to do anything to quench the insatiable hunger setting your nerves on fire. You're licking his happy trail with an appreciative groan when he places a hand on your nape, prompting you to look up.

He removes his glasses and meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed a dark shade of pink. "You okay?"

You lazily smile and nod the affirmative, licking another long stripe up his abs to prove your point.

His fingers tighten around your nape as he exhales a strained moan, then he cups your chin and tilts your head up a little, looking down with intent. "Why don't I take care of you, too, huh?"

You blink and buck your hips, finding your underwear soaked already. You lick your lips. "Yes, yes please..." You lay by his side and help him undress you, the lukewarm air in the cabin coming in stark contrast to you own temperature, raising goosebumps on your heated skin. You open your mouth to complain about it but your voice breaks the moment he sets his hands on you.

Sitting next to you, he showers you in gentle touches, fingertips leaving sparks of pleasure across your body as he softly gropes and caresses, slowly exploring.

You urge him for more and start moaning as his hands press harder into your skin, appreciating the soft give of your flesh. "Please, more..."

Gaban slides a hand under your back and gently lifts you up a little, smirks at your curious gaze then leans in to lick the closest nipple.

"Oh, fuck yes." Your hands tangle in his thick curly hair and you pull him closer. You hiss as he catches your drift and leans in to suck your tit, then you press him harder against you, craving the feeling of his mouth around your skin.

He switches sides as he lays you back down on the mattress, then moves further down, peppering your tummy with needy wet kisses as his hands keep playing with your chest.

You rub your thighs together, desperate to quell the ache growing between them, and squirm under Gaban while he kisses his way across your hip.

He pushes your thighs open and kneels between them, thumbs tracing soothing circles against your skin. "You good?", he asks with a slightly worried frown.

You wet your lips. "Yeah... Want you, need you."

Gaban softly smiles. "Can do", he says, and he dives in without further ado.

You exhale a low throaty groan as he latches his mouth on you and eagerly eats you out, tongue exploring your folds and gently teasing the swollen length hidden beneath, and you tilt your hips for better access.

Gaban wraps his arms around your thighs while his tongue slides inside you, tasting you in the most intimate way possible.

You let out another few sinful moans when you feel the wet muscle caressing your inner walls, and a weak whine as the tip of his nose rubs the underside of your clit. You try to wriggle for more contact but his strong grip holds you firmly in place. You throw him a pleading glance as your hands grip at the bedsheets.

He looks up, and you feel the smile between your thighs as he slides his tongue deeper.

You throw your head back on the pillow and let him do as he pleases – not that you would do much against it anyway, and your mind is too hazy to do more than just relish in such a treat. You're positively light-headed within a few minutes, heavily panting with an orgasm steadily building up and not caring anymore about how loud you voice your enjoyment of your current situation. You barely register when one of his hands leaves your thigh, and in a haze, you don't pick up why you feel like you can move a little more, so you look down.

You lock eyes with Gaban at the moment he slides two thick fingers inside you and curls them just right. He hums around your clit as you close your eyes and mewl, then he starts sucking your swollen length, rubbing his fingertips against your sweet spot until you squirt around them.

Your climax takes you by surprise, fast and short-lived, long as a yelp but very intense, strong enough to leave you breathless and trembling on the bed.

As you regain your breath Gaban pulls his fingers out and smiles against your inner thigh, peppering it with soft kisses. "You're still good?"

Your inner walls flutter around nothing, still throbbing from the recent orgasm yet aching for more. You exhale a weak chuckle. "Oh, yeah. I want more, though."

Gaban hums and dives back in to repeat the whole process, adding a third finger and spreading them out to rub your inner walls.

Your hands move from the bedsheets to his head, tangling in his dark hair, and you gently tug the curly strands to keep him where it feels better. "Fuck– oh, right there..."

Your clit throbs under Gaban's tongue as he hums around you, and he keeps pressing into the swollen spot inside you, spreading his fingertips and rubbing them around, never leaving it untouched.

You pull on his hair when he sucks harder, and the low rumble of his voice as he groans against your cunt in return sends you over the edge again.

Gaban flattens his tongue over your swollen length and presses it hard, lowly humming against you as you ride your high. He stays there a little while more as you fall limp again, and his jaw is a little slack as he leans back up, eyes full of desire as he observes you.

You barely found your breath again when you meet his lust-filled gaze, and the fire inside you grows anew. You exhale a breathless chuckle and announce, "My turn."

Gaban frowns. "Huh?"

You sit up and push him down to the mattress, licking your lips.

"You–"

"I want to taste you, too", you huskily say as your hands finds his still clothed erection, throbbing under your touch.

His Adam's apple moves up and down as he swallows.

You lean in to lick a stripe down the column of his throat, and you smile against his skin when he exhales a throaty groan. Your mouth next explores downwards, kissing, nibbling and licking your way down, tongue lapping a few beads of sweat as you inhale Gaban's scent, hands idly palming at the broad expanse of his torso.

"Oh, fuck– Mmh, that feels good..."

Arousal spiking under his praise, you scoot next to him as you slide his underwear down, then kneel between his parted thighs.

Gaban looks at you, face flush a shade darker. "You sure?"

"Oh, yeah", you nod.

"You don't have to if you– ngh!"

You wrap your hand around his already leaking cock and give an experimental stroke. "I want this. Wanted this for a while, actually. Those damn fire peaches only made me want you more", you huskily say before leaning in to lick a long stripe up the throbbing shaft, eyeing his reaction.

Gaban struggles to keep eye contact while you wet the pulsating vein underneath and tease his frenulum, and exhales a strained moan. "Just wanted to make sure– Oh, fuck–"

You engulf him and swirl your tongue around the flared tip, humming in delight around the pulse beating against your tongue. You lap a few beads of precum at his tip then start bobbing your head up and down, trying to fit more of his cock with each movement.

"Holy shit– Nghh, this is so good..."

You hollow your cheeks on the upstroke, letting spit and precum well in your mouth and dribble down your chin. You look up then, and can't suppress a husky moan at the sight.

Gaban's propped on his elbows, gripping at the bedsheets and frowning in an obvious attempt to restrain himself, lust-filled eyes trained on you, his sun-kissed skin shining with a sheen layer of sweat and his upper body tense under your doings.

You suck harder and gaze up for a few more moments, committing the heavenly sight to memory for later use. Then you lean up, releasing him with one last run of your tongue across his rock hard cock. Then you roughly lick your lips and raise your hand to his, digging fingertips into his closed fist. "You don't have to hold yourself, you know."

Gaban's eyelid twitches. "I don't want to hurt you", he sheepishly says.

"You can still be rough, though."

Gaban cracks a sly smile. "I'm lucky you're so feisty..."

"Hungry", you correct and dive back in mouth first, sliding your lips around his girth until you feel his tip throbbing at the back of your throat.

Gaban loudly groans and instantly cards a hand into your hair, tangling strong fingers into your hair and just barely holding you in place before he pulls your head up a little. "You–"

"Mh-hmm?", you hum around his cock, tongue swirling around his tip.

"You're so– ngh! So, so fucking good..."

You lean back in and resume blowing him off, taking in as much as you can.

Gaban's hand remains into your hair, gently pressing fingertips into your scalp as he hisses and moans under your doings, guiding you but never forcing you down on him.

You deepthroat him anyway, not caring in the least that you're drooling spit and precum all over him – you're hoping to give a good show too, you want him to want you as much as you do, you want to drive him crazy and have him wreck you. His moans, his touch, the way he throbs against your tongue are enough to make the fire within you burn again, but it's the suddenly stronger taste of precum that makes it flare brighter. Your insides clench around nothing, and you exhale a needy whimper.

Gaban's cock throbs in return, and he tugs on your hair, pulling you all the way up, out of breath as he gazes at you with darkened eyes.

You lick your lips and instantly move up to straddle him, rubbing your dripping cunt against his pulsating cock. "I want you so bad it hurts", you whine.

He exhales a low moan, then he guides his length between your folds while you lift your hips up.

You adjust the angle of your hips and spread your juices around his tip as you tease your dripping entrance, then you sink down in one go and push your hips back, throwing your head backwards and exhaling a low satisfied groan once you're fully seated. Your inner walls flutter around him when you look back down.

Gaban's face is flushed red, obviously aroused albeit a little bewildered by your eagerness, heavily panting as he places his hands over your hips, gently squeezing.

You smirk and rock your hips, moaning as you adjust your position and start moving faster. "Oh, fuck yeah", you breathe out as you ride him, eyelids falling down as you focus on the sensations inside you. You're so full, your inner walls stretching out to accommodate him, the constant throbbing and rubbing against all the good places inside you...

Gaban's grip tightens on your hips. "I'm close, (y/n), I–"

You open your eyes and roll your hips harder as you hold his gaze. "I want to feel you cum inside me", you say without missing a beat.

"Oh, fuck–" Gaban's eyes roll back a little before he makes eye contact again. His fingertips dig into your hips a little more as he guides you, grinding his hips harder into you. He huskily growls, "You really want this?"

"Uh-huh", you nod the affirmative, biting on your lower lip.

"Mmh– You're gonna make me cum so hard..."

You smirk and keep moving faster. "Yeah?"

"Fuck, fuck–" Gaban's hips buck into yours and he pulls you down hard, burying his cock deep inside you as it starts throbbing wildly, spurting warm loads of cum inside you. His whole glistening body tenses and a single, long, broken sound leaves his lips as he rides his high.

You feast on the view as you keep riding him, relishing in the intense pulsations inside your core and the slick warmth spreading there and dripping down between your thighs.

He looks at you from behind half-lidded eyes as he slowly comes down from cloud nine, still half-hard inside of you while he resumes giving hip rolls of his own.

You angle your hips better, rubbing your swollen clit against his happy trail, reaching for another climax. "Oh, fuck... Ngh..."

"You're so fucking hot", Gaban breathlessly says, sliding a hand up to squeeze your waist then grope a breast, fingertips teasing your nipple.

You arch your back then, seeking more contact. "Oh, please, more..."

Gaban instantly complies, cupping both of your tits and thumbing at your nipples hardening under his touch.

"I– unf! I wanna cum so bad", you whimper, rubbing your swollen clit harder against him.

Gaban rolls your nipples between his fingertips, sending a jolt of arousal through your body, then leans in to suck on the closest tit.

You breathe more heavily and press your hips down harder, feeling more warmth pool in your gut, close, so close to an orgasm. "Oh, please, pleaseplease–"

Gaban sucks hard on your nipple, then gently bites it as his hand pulls on the other one.

The coil snaps and you throw your head back to let out a series of loud moans, your whole body curling and trembling as waves and waves of liquid ecstasy spreads throughout your whole body, your skin tingling in their wake.

Gaban keeps sucking and pulling on your tits as your inner walls squeeze him tight, humming in delight into your skin as he bucks his hips into yours to feel you cum better.

When finally you settle down a little you look back down at him, out of breath and positively sated. You offer him a lazy smile. "Oh, that was– haa– so good..."

"Oh yeah", he says as he leans back and grabs your waist again, rocking his hips into yours.

You moan as you feel his dick standing to full attention again inside you, deliciously stretching you. Your insides flutter around him. Not sated yet. "More?", you coyly ask.

"My pleasure." Gaban flips you both over and places his hands on either side of your head, slowly rocking his hips into yours as he hovers above you.

You bite your lower lip, feasting on the view, and you adjust your position under him, tilting your hips a little higher for a deeper penetration.

Gaban grins and starts thrusting, long and slow, making sure to rub his flared tip against your sweet spot with every thrust.

You cling onto his waist, fingertips digging into his back. "Harder", you moan.

He growls and picks up his pace a little, filling you with each thrust yet still not quite satisfying enough.

You impatiently whine. "Come on, I'm not gonna break", you say as you rake your fingernails into his skin.

He raises an eyebrow, and he slams his hips into yours, earning a low growl.

"Oh, fuck yeah. More..."

Gaban leans back to kneel in front of you, pulling your hips up so you rest your lower back on his muscular thighs. He raises your ankles to his shoulders and wraps his arms around your legs, holding you tight, then leans in a little before he resumes fucking you, hard and fast. The new angle has you feeling fuller, his dick impossibly deep and rubbing everywhere it should.

You feel something growing inside you, an urge for release that you don't quite recognize until you squirt around Gaban's thick cock, splashing his abs and thighs and soaking the mattress beneath you while he keeps pounding into you, reducing you to a moaning mess.

He angles his hips back a little and keeps going, making you squirt another couple of times before he cums another time inside you, his dick pulsating against your sweet spot as his release mixes with yours inside you and over the bedsheets.

And though you very much enjoy your current situation, nothing seems to satisfy you enough. The ache inside you only seems to grow bigger each time you climax, and you're convinced you're going to lose your mind if you can't at least appease it a little.

When Gaban regains his breath he leans back and pulls out, cautiously laying you down onto a dry part of the bed. He gently squeezes your thigh as he sits next to you. "How do you feel?"

You weakly shrug. "Want more", you whine.

He offers you an apologetic smile. "Me too, but I do have a refractory time."

You haul yourself up, rubbing your thighs together as your insides flutter around nothing. "And I have no patience", you huskily say as you wrap a hand around his softening cock. You give Gaban a quick glance before licking him clean, then you engulf him whole.

"Hnghh– (y/n)..."

You hum around his half-hard cock, sucking it hard and humming as it gets harder over your tongue, progressively filling your mouth until you struggle to swallow around him. The taste of both of your releases only further fuels your ever-growing arousal and you're aching to have him inside you again as you finally release him, rock hard again and ready to go. A proud smile curves your lips, and you look back up.

Gaban exhales a low, deep chuckle and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead. "Alright then. What do you want?"

You turn around and place yourself on your fours, face against the mattress as you wriggle your ass up. "You. Inside me."

"Can do", he huskily says, raising a hand to run his fingertips up your inner thigh, spreading the slick across your skin and teasing your throbbing cunt. Then he kneels behind you, playfully slaps your ass cheeks then massages them while he rubs his cock between your folds.

You arch your back, and moan when his flared tip rubs your swollen clit and they throb against each other. You fist your hands into the bedsheets and tilt your hips forward to guide him towards your aching core. "Fuck me already..."

Another slap on an ass cheek, loud and clear, tingling with warmth blooming everywhere inside you. It's all the warning you get before Gaban slides inside you and fucks you rough, fingertips digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

"Oh– Oh, fuck, yes! Yes!!" Your eyes roll back in delight and your mouth stays agape, sinful sounds spilling from your lips as you're lost in a haze, abandoned to the moment, Gaban's whole strength and his throbbing cock ramming into you, spearing you open. So good, so good... yet still not enough. You grow frustrated after a while, and prop yourself up on your arms, trying to get a better angle.

Gaban slows down a little. "Something wrong?"

"Want more", you moan between pants.

Gaban growls, hauls you up and brings you against the wooden wall, waits for you to comfortably brace your arms there, then grabs your hips again and resumes pounding into you.

With this angle he perfectly rubs against your sweet spot with each thrust, and more warmth blooms into you as he wraps his body around yours, holding you close as he roughly rails you from behind.

You throw a hand back and card it into his thick hair, then you exhale a low throaty moan when he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, praising the gods you don't believe in for another powerful orgasm.

It doesn't come, and instead you're both startled by knocks on the cabin door.

You whine when Gaban stops thrusting and he unlatches his mouth from your skin.

"You okay there?"

You turn a hazy gaze to Gaban, distantly identifying Rayleigh's voice.

"I was wondering where you went, so I asked Crocus since he saw you last."

Not caring in the least that Rayleigh is on the other side of the wall, you lean a little against the wood, then roll your hips a little, anything to get some friction to ease the ache inside your core.

Gaban's grip tightens on your hips and his dick throbs inside you.

Rayleigh continues, "Don't worry about the others, he only told Roger and me. I just came here to bring you fresh water, Crocus said you might need it."

You try to get Gaban to move again, to no avail, then you exhale a needy whimper.

"Thanks, Rayleigh", Gaban says, "You can leave it by the door, I'll come grab it later."

"Oh no, you're not leaving", you lowly growl, clenching your inner walls around his pulsating cock.

He frowns and protests, "I'm just getting water!"

You lean against the wall and brace your shoulders against it, then you glare at him as you throw your hands back to grab his ass, pinning him against you. "I said no."

He lifts his eyebrows. "Okay. Now what?"

"I don't care! Just fuck me."

Gaban leans over your back and heavily sighs. "Rayleigh?"

"Yeah?"

"Come in and leave the water here, please", Gaban says before he resumes pounding into you.

Rayleigh opens the door, slides in then closes behind him. Then he drops a keg near the bed, and his gaze flickers to you.

Gaban growls, "You saw nothing."

"Nobody will know, but I saw. Nice view", he teases, a smile curving his lips.

Your brain vaguely registers that usually you'd be embarrassed, but right now being watched only arouses you more. "Really?", you breathe out between moans as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

"Mh-hmm", he nods, gaze lingering on your face before turning to Gaban. "You gonna be okay?"

"Fuck–" Gaban's hips still against yours as he cums inside you yet again. He pulls out and moves back to lay on the bed, heavily breathing. "Well that's a nice workout, but…... yeah."

You whimper at the loss, then you turn around to straddle him without a single fuck to spare for your audience until Rayleigh speaks again.

"Do you need any help?"

You snap your head towards him, then curiously back to Gaban, heart suddenly beating faster.

"I could use a pause", he breathes out, then finds your inquiring gaze. He licks his lips and exhales a small chuckle. "Won't be a first that we share a bed, or someone", he confesses. "Your pick."

Your eyes widen. "Oh." You bite your lower lip and turn to Rayleigh who's still standing in the doorway. Without missing a beat, you ask, "You don't mind sloppy seconds, do you?"

Rayleigh's grin widens as he walks towards you. "Depends... Right now, I don't."

"Lucky me", you huskily say as you hop off the bed and walk to him, wandering hands sliding his coat off his shoulders.

Rayleigh glances at Gaban. "Those fire peaches are really strong, I heard?"

Gaban huffs a tired chuckle. "Oh yeah! And she ate four or five of them..."

"I didn't know then, and I don't care now, please– help me", you say as you struggle to untie the First Mate's sash.

Rayleigh smirks. "Well, we don't want to leave you in need now, do we?" He slides his sash off and helps you remove his boots and pants, and comments as your hands explore his body, groping here and there, "I won't lie, it's flattering to see you so eager... Makes me wish I tried something earlier."

"I'll make up for lost time, then." You maintain his gaze as you slide his underwear down and sink to your knees. You break eye contact to glance at his cock, half-hard already, long and curved, veiny. You wrap your fingers around him and start stroking, licking your lips in anticipation.

You hear the smile in his voice as he next says, "Lost time, huh? Must have been long overdue, when I see Gaban worn out like this."

You exhale a soft hum, and open your mouth to engulf his tip.

"If you let her, (y/n) will suck you dry", Gaban says.

"I wouldn't mind", Rayleigh says as he cards a hand into your hair, guiding you as you lean in and take more of his length.

Gaban chuckles. "Maybe, but she will."

You hum in approval and start bobbing your head, making it wet and messy as you feel Rayleigh's cock throbbing against your tongue.

"Unf– You're good", Rayleigh huskily says between pants and moans, "Oh yeah, just like that..."

You moan around his length, heart melting at the praise and cunt dripping from arousal at the weight and taste on your tongue, already desperate to be fucked silly again.

Rayleigh places his other hand on your cheek, gently holding you close as you take him whole, nose brushing against his happy trail. He groans and his flared tip throbs at the back of your throat, and he pulls you back a few short moments after. He heavily pants, a dark shade of pink dusting his cheeks.

Not that you fare any better, drooling spit and precum, pupils dilated as you look up and meet his intense gaze. You dart your tongue out to lick his thumb and your insides clench around nothing when he slides it between your lips.

Gaban exhales a low chuckle. "Still feisty", he comments.

"(y/n)... I'd like to fuck that pretty mouth, is that okay?"

You heartily nod, lean back to open your mouth wide, then obediently draw your tongue out.

Rayleigh exhales a low hum and cradles your head between his warm hands, then he bucks his hips into your offered mouth, groaning when you move your tongue along his length. "Tap on my thigh or my leg if I'm too rough, alright?"

You hum, and focus on breathing through your nose while he starts thrusting in and out of your lips. Your insides flutter with each of his moans, and let out some sinful sounds of your own in return. When he starts moving faster, pressing against the back of your throat with every other thrust, you gag around his cock and place your hands on his thighs, but you withhold the treatment, finding some relief in being used and yearning for more.

Rayleigh pulls back just when the taste of precum gets stronger in your mouth, heavily panting and looking at you with a mix of awe and mischief. "Fuck– You're so good."

You lick your lips, chasing his taste. "Am I, now?" You get up and move back to the bed, laying on the mattress next to Gaban and invitingly opening your thighs, offering your glistening cunt to the view while you hungrily lick your lips. "Let me see if you are, too."

Rayleigh exchanges a mischievous glance with Gaban and climbs onto the bed, placing himself above you and lining himself up. He leans in for a deep, hungry kiss as he slides into your aching core, swallowing your whimpers while he sheathes himself, then he leans back up to look at your heated face, wearing a smug grin.

A split second passes before you lock your feet behind his back, expectantly looking up at him. "Fuck me", you demand.

"My pleasure", he says, and happily complies, imposing a fast rhythm as he deeply pounds into you.

Sparks of pleasure send shivers across your skin, heated and sensitive from such a good rough fuck. Your fingernails dig into pale skin and you tighten your thighs around Rayleigh's waist, angling your hips for an even deeper penetration. It's so good, yet still not enough.

Rayleigh leans back and lifts your ankles to his shoulders for a better angle, threads a hand through his sweat-damp hair as he adjusts his position.

You whine at the sight, and lick your suddenly dry lips.

Gaban pats Rayleigh's hip. "Let her drink a bit."

You're a little startled when you're reminded of Gaban's presence, you were so lost in the sensations that you forgot about him for a bit.

"Yeah. I'll have some too."

You prop yourself on your elbows when Gaban brings you a fresh cup, and you down the water in one go while he fetches another cup for Rayleigh.

Once the blond has resumed fucking you, Gaban lays next to you, fingertips tracing your jawline.

You turn to him moaning and panting under Rayleigh's ministrations.

He softly smiles, and playfully slides the tip of his thumb between your parted lips.

You absentmindedly lick it, then crane your head to properly suck it.

He growls and slides his thumb out, only to push two fingers inside your mouth, looking intensely at the way you open your mouth wide to accommodate them.

You diligently coat Gaban's fingers with spit, making a show to run your tongue all around.

"So greedy..."

You moan around his knuckles with every other thrust, gaze going from Gaban to Rayleigh, drowning in their desire but not nearly quenched yet.

Fortunately for you, Gaban seems to think along the same lines. He asks you, "Want to blow me off?"

You heartily nod around his fingers, humming appreciatively.

He smirks and turns to Rayleigh. "Mind changing positions?"

"Not at all", Rayleigh says before pulling out.

Your inner walls flutter around nothing, desperate to be filled again, and you're about to voice a complaint–

Rayleigh grabs your hips and flips you around in one swift move, then he pulls your ass up.

Catching his drift, you place yourself on your fours and tilt your hips for better access.

Gaban kneels in front of you, presenting a renewed and throbbing erection.

You lick your lips and get to work, engulfing as much as you can in a single go.

Rayleigh slides inside you right then, pushing you a little more around Gaban's cock as he bottoms out.

Your insides squeeze around Rayleigh's cock and you moan in return. When Rayleigh pulls back a little you start bobbing your head along Gaban's cock, relishing in the strong throbbing against your tongue when you moan around it as well as the stronger taste of precum spreading into your mouth.

Rayleigh places his hands on your ass, spreading it out as he resumes fucking you, a little slower than before.

Assuming he's enjoying the view, you arch your back a little more to give a better show.

Rayleigh exhales a low appreciative groan and fucks you harder, spreading your ass wide and throbbing hard inside your cunt.

You slightly gag with every other thrust that pushes you harder on Gaban's cock, but you withhold the treatment, doing your best to focus on breathing through your nose.

Rayleigh's thrusts become slightly erratic after a few minutes, and he buries himself balls deep after a few off-beat thrusts, keeping an iron grip on your hips as he cums inside you.

You groan in delight when you're filled with his release, and you sigh when he finally pulls out.

Gaban leans back and rubs the tip of his cock against your drawn out tongue. "Wanna fuck you again", he growls.

You look up and smirk. "Then I want both of you."

"Needy girl... You're lucky Rayleigh has little to no refractory time."

You throw an interested glance behind you. "Yeah?"

Rayleigh shrugs, and a mischievous smile curves his lips. "How fast can you get me up again?"

You lowly hum. "Let's see..." You stay on your fours but turn around to face him, offering your backside to Gaban. You grab his half-hard cock, slide your lips around it and start sucking, tasting your own earlier release and theirs under Rayleigh's approving gaze.

Gaban lines himself with your cunt once you've fallen into a comfortable rhythm, easily sliding into you with the remainder of his and Rayleigh's cum, and he snaps his hips hard into yours, loud slaps of flesh against flesh echoing through your body as he forces you further onto Rayleigh's cock.

You appreciate the way it swells and gets harder against your tongue in response to every other moan vibrating around it, and you earnestly suck harder in return. You distantly register when the thrusts inside you slow down a bit as well as a couple of foreign sounds occur behind you, but you don't care much until two fingertips are pressed into your ass cleft.

Gaban's fingers aren't pushing much, just sliding down to your puckered hole and spreading their coat of lube around it. "You said you want both of us. Is this good?"

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean back a little to release Rayleigh's cock. "Oh, yeah. Very", you pant, throwing a glance behind your back.

Gaban flashes you a smile and resumes pounding into your cunt with his former pace, all while massaging your tight hole. He slides a first, then a second finger inside, and leisurely starts scissoring you.

Rayleigh cups your cheek, prompting you to look back up at him. "You look so good like this", he praises you, "So pretty when you're enjoying yourself..."

Your inner walls flutter at the praise. An extra finger sliding into your ass forces a raw, throaty moan out of you, and you mindlessly resume your blow job, keeping it wet and messy.

Rayleigh places his hands on your head, gently guiding your moves along his length while exhaling soft moans.

Gaban soon pushes a third finger deep inside you, and wriggles them around a bit, feeling the tight fit of your ass around them.

You groan around Rayleigh's shaft, and arch your back for better access, an urge to be stretched further rising fast inside you.

Gaban reads you like an open book and pushes his fingers deeper, then spreads them as wide as he can.

You throw your head back with a wail, releasing Rayleigh's cock in the movement. Breathing shallowly, still drooling spit and precum, you glance behind you and beg, "Please, I want you both so bad."

Gaban stops moving and lifts a cocky eyebrow.

You look back up at Rayleigh. "Please."

He smiles, a little short of breath, then moves to lay down on the mattress. He palms at his slick cock and invitingly says, "Come here."

Gaban pulls his fingers out, earning a whimper. He barely has the time to buck his hips back that you're already moving.

You don't waste a single second and crawl over Rayleigh to straddle him. You impale yourself on his shaft, exhaling a low groan once he's fully sheathed in. You lick your lips, brace your hands on either side of Rayleigh's face, and start riding like it's world's end.

"Ooh, yeah– fuck, that's good..." Rayleigh's hands latch on your hips, guiding you and pressing you harder against him, sliding you along his length and making sure you take him to the hilt with every hip roll.

You stop moving when you feel Gaban kneeling behind you. Eager to be fucked senseless, you lean over Rayleigh's body and rest your head into the crook of his shoulder, panting in anticipation as you offer your ass to Gaban.

Rayleigh's hands slide from your hips to your ass cheeks and spread them wide for better access.

You pant more heavily and heat rises up to your face. You lean into the crook of Rayleigh's neck and gently bite in return, licking and nibbling his warm skin.

Gaban lines his cock, slick with bodily fluids and an extra dose of lube. The first ring of muscle twitches around his tip when he pushes in, but the downright sinful moan you next exhale encourages him further, so he keeps going, slowly but deliciously filling your tight ass. Once he bottoms out he leans over your back and peppers your shoulders and back with wet kisses. "You're doing so good. You feel so good", he murmurs against your skin.

Mind foggy, body just barely adjusted to the spearing intrusion, breath still heavy, you lick your dry lips and give an experimental hip roll. "Oh, holy shit..." Your insides clench around both men and your whole body tenses between them, electrified by the intense sensations. You lazily smile when Gaban and Rayleigh hiss in return, then their cocks throb inside you and your whole body goes a little limp. You catch your breath before exhaling a husky moan, eyes rolling back behind your eyelids.

Rayleigh's hands travel up to your hips, and one trails up your side, then your neck, follows your jawline and gently cups your cheek.

You open your eyes.

Rayleigh hungrily looks up at you and growls, "So pretty when you take us both..."

Breath short, feeling fuller than ever yet not near enough, you brace tight fists on the mattress above Rayleigh's shoulders, then you push your back against Gaban's chest, and roll your hips again with more intent. "Ooh, fuck... Unf, this is so good..." You look back down at Rayleigh and offer him a lazy smile. "I wanna cum with both of you inside me." You grin wider when both of their cocks instantly get harder, and move again, quickly setting a comfortable rhythm.

Rayleigh's hands cup your chest and playfully rub fingertips across your nipples, teasing until he earns a couple of extra moans. Then he pinches them and gently holds them so that he pulls on your tits with each of your hip rolls.

"Holy fuck, yes–"

Gaban leans a little over you, wrapping his broader frame around your smaller form, and re-positions a hand on the mattress so the other can wander freely, exploring your legs, thighs, sides.

You're burning from the inside, every touch so good and so frustrating at the same time, your whole body demands more. You tilt your hips and ride harder, bite your lower lip when you find a better angle, then you ride faster.

Gaban's hand kneads into your hip, then travels to your inner thigh, fingertips brushing against Rayleigh's midsection. Your hips stutter under his touch but he keeps going, and three fingertips soon cover your swollen clit and start stroking through its hood.

You lean down a little under the intense stimulation, and you let your mouth fall agape as more sinful sounds spill from your lips.

Rayleigh leans up to suck on a hardened nipple, earning higher-pitched moans. He smiles around your tit and leans back only to apply the same treatment to the other side.

"Oh, fuck– I can't–" You heavily pant and your hips stutter again between them as you're unable to maintain any kind of pace. You stop riding altogether and whine, "Please, please, fuck me..."

Rayleigh releases your nipple with a wet sound, then leans back wearing a cocky smirk. "If you insist."

Gaban's hand leaves your cunt and moves to the mattress again. He kisses the back of your neck and huskily says, "I'm always happy to please."

Rayleigh spreads out your ass and holds you tight as he starts thrusting into your sloppy cunt.

"Oh shit, shit–" You writhe between them, searching for more contact.

Gaban gives some hip rolls of his own and leans in to bite your neck.

"Ngh– more, please..."

Gaban pushes his chest down on your back and slides three fingers inside your mouth.

Slaps of flesh against flesh, ragged breaths, loud moans and husky groans... Heat everywhere inside and around you... Sweat and spit mixing in your mouth with the taste of everyone's juices... The scent of your bodies mingled together... And the view, oh, the view...

Rayleigh's absolutely gorgeous, disheveled and glimmering from the sweat running down his body, brow furrowed and muscles tense as he buries himself deep inside you, mouth spilling moans and curses and quiet words of praise.

Gaban bites you again, a little harder.

A jolt of electricity goes down your spine, and you cum right there and then with a loud wail. Your whole body shudders at the intensity of this new climax, and finally slumps down after a while. You're positively out of breath and exhausted, not to mention dehydrated beyond belief. You lick your dry lips.

Rayleigh gently pats Gaban's thigh. "Let her drink", he softly says.

Gaban pulls out, earning a soft whine, then he lays down on the bed next to Rayleigh, breathing heavily.

You slide off Rayleigh and fill a couple of cups for them, then you down another one. Once you're feeling a little fresher, you take a couple of breaths to assess your current state. Still not fucking close to satisfied. You don't waste time and quickly return to Gaban and Rayleigh, rubbing your body against theirs as you barely stand a few moments without bare skin against yours.

"Time out", Gaban quietly says, a soft smile curling his lips while he gently taps your thigh.

You slightly groan in mild annoyance, and turn your attention to Rayleigh.

He lays you down and gets off the bed, then he pulls you towards the edge of the mattress. He kneels there and throws you a seductive glance before diving in tongue first.

You arch your back when his tongue laps your juices, and your eyes flutter shut when the wet muscle explores inside your slightly gaping cunt. One of your hands tangles in blond hair and lightly tugs, earning a soft groan. You exhale an interested hum, and tug harder.

Rayleigh groans louder and slides his tongue up, moving to suck your swollen, sensitive clit.

An incoherent string of half-words fall from your lips, and you bury your free hand into his hair too, keeping him where it feels better. You rock your hips a little and when Rayleigh stops moving and simply draws his tongue out, you insistently rub yourself against the wet muscle, chasing for another high.

Rayleigh exhales soft grunts and moans of approval, vibrating against your throbbing clit, and he all too happily let him use his tongue.

It doesn't take long before your thighs quiver around his head as you cum yet again. You release his head and lazily watch as he wipes your juices from his face and sucks his fingers clean.

He stands then, stretches his back a little, and lines himself up with your dripping cunt. He doesn't give you time to recover from the afterglow and slides his dick deep inside your pulsating core, and fucks you hard.

Over-sensitized and exhausted, you're still craving for more and you're glad he wants more too.

Gaban scoots closer to you and lets his hands wander on your chest, your neck, your jawline. "You're so fucking pretty", he praises you while his fingertips tease you.

You hear Captain Roger's roaring laugh echoing on the decks, but it doesn't register as bothersome since you suppose there's only the four of you on the ship.

Neither Rayleigh nor Gaban stop their ministrations, anyway.

A moment after, Captain's voice says from behind the door, "I was wondering where Rayleigh had been all this time. Figures."

Gaban rolls his eyes.

Rayleigh groans as he slows down his thrusts.

"Everyone's off to sleep and you're still at it?"

Rayleigh turns towards the door and deadpans, "Well someone doesn't want to stop, so..."

You groan in mild annoyance and wriggle your hips to try to get him to move.

He turns his attention back to you, sighing. "Do you want Roger to join, too?"

Your pupils widen at the offer and you lick your lips.

Gaban bites your shoulder. "Insatiable, really", he growls against your skin.

With a rare sliver of lucidity you ask, "Is this... okay?"

Gaban and Rayleigh huff a laugh and exchange a knowing look, a smirk growing on their faces.

You frown. "What?"

Rayleigh calls, "Roger!"

Your Captain enters the cabin without further ado, grinning wide at the sight of you three entangled. "Oh, you've been having fun."

Rayleigh retorts, "Yeah, and (y/n) keeps wanting more."

Captain Roger turns his attention to you.

Arousal flares again inside your gut under his intense gaze.

He plucks his mustache and lowly asks, "Is it true? Do you need more... help?"

You swallow as you briefly look at the other two. "Yeah. I mean– I'm not sure anything more would truly help at this point, but–"

Rayleigh laughs. "Oh, he will wear you out, trust me."

Gaban runs a thumb across your lower lip. "If anyone can do more than us two, it's Roger. I'd say it's a pretty safe bet."

"Alright, okay." You playfully lick his thumb before turning your attention back to your Captain, a smile curling your lips. Worries and shame long forgotten, you offer, "You want the next round?"

"Oh yeah." Roger heartily nods, then he drops his coat near the keg and leisurely leans on the wall across the room. "Come on, boys, you heard her", he urges the other two with an eager grin.

Rayleigh briefly glares at him, but soon resumes fucking you, deep and sharp, making you see stars with every other thrust.

Gaban muffles your moans with two or three fingers playing with your tongue, while his gaze intensely studies your face.

You tilt your hips for a deeper penetration and moan a little louder around Gaban's fingers, then your eyes flutter shut in delight and you squeeze your inner walls around Rayleigh.

He hisses in return, and his cock heavily throbs. "Fuck– I'm close..."

You huskily groan, lean back to release Gaban's fingers, then tilt your head towards Rayleigh. "Cum inside me", you plead.

"Oh– fuck, nghh..." Rayleigh's body tenses and he buries himself to the hilt, violently pulsating and filling your greedy cunt with yet another load of warm cum.

You bite your lower lip, clenching harder around him, milking him dry.

After a few heavy breaths to regain his composure, Rayleigh finally pulls out. He gazes at you with want and a hint of softness when he cups your chin and leans in for a deep languid kiss.

You're breathless but smiling by the time he finally leans back.

Rayleigh settles further on the bed, next to Gaban who's been observing you with a mischievous grin.

Happy where you are but still not quite sated, you move to the edge of the bed and sit there, ignoring the warm wetness spreading between your thighs. Your gaze instantly falls on your Captain.

Roger looks at you with intent, a hungry smile curving his mouth.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you distantly acknowledge that the man facing you is one of the most wanted, ill-famed, strong and dangerous men of this era. Although, you're a part of his crew, so it's a very arousing thought, rather than threatening.

"My turn", he says, and then he gets up without further ado, shrugging off his shirt.

Your mouth falls agape halfway through said shirt being dropped on the floor, and you observe him with want as he similarly discards boots, belts and pants. Goosebumps raise your skin despite the fire burning beneath. Nothing that you didn't know beforehand, but your Captain in any state of undress is still a sight to behold. What a snack!

A pair of laughs echo from the bed.

You blink then frown. "Did I say that out loud?"

Left in nothing more than his underwear, Roger heartily nods, beaming.

"Oh, well", you shrug, distantly aware that you should be embarrassed but remaining unbothered, "It's true." You get up and go straight to your Captain, holding a hand out once you're within reach to palm at his strong, hairy torso. You look up with a renewed fire within you.

Roger leans in for a deep kiss, and approvingly hums when you let him claim your mouth and run eager hands across your sweaty skin. He runs his tongue across your lower lip as he leans back, leaving you breathless and needy.

"Captain..."

Roger cracks a smile, places his hands around your waist and effortlessly lifts you up, laughing when you gasp in surprise. You barely have the time to wrap your legs around Roger that he's already sat on the bed with you straddling him.

You look at him from under, slightly flustered to be handled like this but even more aroused now that you feel his cock throbbing between your thighs, albeit through very frustrating underwear. You're soaking those, anyway, already rubbing your dripping cunt against him.

"So eager..." Roger's large hands slide around your hips to cup your ass, giving them a playful squeeze before venturing further, spreading the slick around your holes, teasing but never quite satisfying.

You pant and whine, and your head lolls back down while you angle your hips better, seeking more contact, more pressure, anything to quell the fire in your core.

"So, so needy", Roger growls just before his wandering fingertips return to your hips. You look back at him frustrated, outraged even, but he only smiles and hoists you up again, setting you a little to the side, straddling his thick thigh.

You throw him a confused look.

His smile widens and he lifts his knee a little, flexing his thigh underneath you and pressing into your wet folds. "Make yourself cum for me."

Your eyes roll back and you exhale a low throaty moan. Your thighs clench around his on reflex and your swollen clit throbs against his skin, his curly, thick hairs tickling you in the most satisfying way possible. You have a breathless laugh, then you quietly say, "Okay." You brace yourself on your Captain's stomach, and start riding his thigh.

Roger keeps a hand on your hip, guiding your movements, pressing you harder against him, and he lets the other wander free, reaching out for your neck, gently curling around it. Then he traces your jawline and thumbs at your lower lip.

You obediently open your mouth, drawing your tongue out.

Roger growls, and his grip tightens on your hip while he slides two thick fingers between your parted lips, rubbing against your tongue.

You whimper but diligently start sucking, coating his fingers with saliva while you roll your hips harder. Your clit impossibly throbs against Roger's warm skin, the brush of hairs sending sparks of pleasure across your over-sensitized skin, and the pressure of hard muscle against your whole cunt becoming painfully addictive. You move faster when another climax builds up, desperate for the high and mindlessly drooling around Roger's fingers.

"Close already?", Roger playfully asks. He pushes his fingers deeper into your mouth and slides his other hand from your hip to your ass, spreading you out.

You exhale a low moan and hump him harder.

Roger spreads the slick around your puckered hole, earning another few whimpers and a pleading glance, then slides his finger in to the knuckle. "Come on, cum for me."

Your eyes roll back and you lean back with a loud moan, releasing his fingers when you tip over the edge. Your whole body tenses over his, your inner wall clenching in waves as you ride the high.

Roger makes sure to keep a constant pressure between your thighs, extending your climax until you're a shivering, panting mess, falling limp against his chest. He gently pats your back, murmuring, "There, there. You did good."

You blearily blink while you regain your breath, then you look up and offer your Captain a lazy smile. "Thanks, Captain."

Rayleigh has an exaggerated sigh. "Well, you look more tired now, so hopefully the effect of those fire peaches are starting to wear out." When your eyes find his, he cocks an eyebrow and stares at you with a fondly exasperated smile.

You lick your dry lips, swallow around a too dry throat, then cough a little.

Gaban quickly fetches a cup of water for you. "Come, sit."

Roger helps you off him and back down on the bed.

Rayleigh gently pats your shoulder while you sit between him and your Captain.

You chug your water in one go, then stretch your arms and legs a little and ask for another cup. With your mind a bit clearer, you turn your attention back to Captain Roger. Your eyes study his underwear, more precisely the conspicuous wet spot you left there, and you realize how small it seems in comparison to the obvious bulge beneath.

Rayleigh slides you a knowing look when you glance his way.

You half-heartedly glare, then you turn to Gaban.

He laughs brightly. "What? We've all been there."

You blink. "Huh. That explains a lot..." You bite your lower lip and focus back on your Captain. Well... On the obvious bulge in his underwear, that is. Your eyebrow twitches at the sight and you waste no time in undressing him. Of course, he's huge. Not deterred in the least, you kneel beside him on the bed, tentatively wrap a hand around his cock and start stroking.

He encourages you, with a hand across your back that gently presses fingertips into your skin when he moans or groans.

Emboldened by the new range of sounds you manage to coax from your Captain, and firmly intending to hear some more, you lean in and blow him off. You shamelessly moan while you play with your tongue around his shaft, mentally picturing what it'll be like to have such a massive cock inside you.

Roger is as loud in bed as he is everywhere else, and for some reason it makes him even hotter. You soon learn with delight that he's very vocal, verbal even, praising you for making him feel good, guiding you with short instructions and encouraging you further. His hand slides up your back and wraps around your nape, not quite pushing but still gently keeping you down on him.

You groan around his shaft when a couple of fingertips press into your scalp, and you earnestly keep blowing him off. You gag a little when you try to take his cock to the hilt, but you wrap a hand around the base to reach what doesn't fit and you suck harder on the upstroke, hollowing your cheeks and drooling spit and precum. You let out a surprised moan when a hand spreads your juices – not only yours, but that's a detail – and presses teasing fingertips around your sloppy cunt. You keep blowing your Captain off but you lift your gaze.

Rayleigh makes eye contact with you, smirking before he dives in to kiss Roger.

You clench around Gaban's fingers when Roger's free hand possessively cards at Rayleigh's nape, the fire rekindled within you at the sight of their shared intimacy. I need more. I need them so bad. You pull up with a wet sound and a trail of drool still connecting your lips so Roger's flared tip, heavily panting while you observe desire and affection in their gaze when they break apart.

Gaban's fingers bring you back to your current situation when he curls them against your sweet spot, sending a jolt of electricity through your core. He leans over your back and brings his lips under your ear to playfully say, "Insatiable and voyeur."

Your inner walls squeeze his fingers again and you bite your lower lip. "Maybe", you concede at length.

"Hm? Feeling shy now?" Rayleigh gets up and fetches another cup of water for you. "The fire peaches are starting to wear out."

You sigh when Gaban's fingers leave you empty and fluttering around nothing, and you glare behind you.

Gaban pulls himself up the bed, leaning onto a pillow placed against the cabin wall. He opens his legs and pats the space between them, a playful smile at his lips.

"Oh." You crawl over to him, and sit between his thighs, resting your back against his chest. Just being caged by his body has your cunt throbbing in want, and the way his hands wander free across your heated skin makes you feel even more desired, even more needy, almost desperate.

Gaban's hands spread your thighs when they reach there, showing off your soaked, twitching, puffy cunt.

Roger lets out a low interested hum, then he turns around and lays stomach down on the bed with his head between your thighs. Without an ounce of hesitation or shame he dives in to eat you out, eagerly dipping his tongue between your folds and sucking your swollen clit.

Your fingers tangle in his thick hair and lightly tug. "Oh fuck, fuck– Oh shit– Why are you all so good at this– ngh..." You try to wriggle around but with little to no result, Gaban and Roger perfectly pinning you between them, offered and basically at their mercy.

Roger's tongue tastes you in the most intimate way possible – not only you, and that's a detail but it's a very arousing one – and the rumble of his appreciative groans vibrates against your core, making you weak in the knees.

Your inner walls flutter around his tongue. "More... More..."

Gaban molds his body against yours and playfully tugs on your nipples, earning a few whimpers when his warm breath tickles your shoulder and neck.

Your eyelids flutter shut while you bask in the sensations, delighted to be taken in such good care by the hottest men in the crew. You gasp and open your eyes again when a wider girth than before stretches your cunt.

Roger throws you a cocky smirk before diving back in to suck your clit. He starts thrusting his fingers shortly after, eyes trained on your face.

"Ooh, fuck–" Your eyes roll back in their sockets. That's three of his fingers. Three. Fingers. Considering how big your Captain is, you reason with yourself that said fingers should make it easier for you to take his cock. You glance back down and bite your lower lip. "Oh, Captain", you moan, "This is so good..."

He smiles against your folds and slides another finger in.

You whine at the extra stretch and break eye contact when he curls his fingers inside you.

One of Gaban's hands leave your nipple only to be replaced by an eager mouth.

You look down and find Rayleigh sat by Gaban's side, cupping a tit and earnestly sucking on it, hunger obvious in his eyes when you meet his gaze.

Roger keeps his fingers curled inside you and starts rocking them against your sweet spot, slowly but firmly.

"Ooh, fuck– oh–" Your body tenses under their combined ministrations, waiting for the moment the coil will snap.

Rayleigh sucks harder, rubbing the tip of his tongue against your hard nipple.

Gaban pinches the other one and lightly pulls, bouncing your tit.

Roger rubs his fingers more insistently, bringing you closer to the edge.

Your cunt clenches around him, he growls against your folds and around your clit in response, and finally you cum and squirt around his fingers.

Roger avidly drinks your juices, pressing his fingertips against your sweet spot to coax more out of you, and he keeps eating you out until you're a trembling, whimpering mess. He finally sits back up, a cocky smile on his swollen, glistening lips.

Your head falls back into the curve of Gaban's shoulder, and you take a moment to regain your breath.

Gaban's hands provide soft touches and eager squeezes, never urging but always arousing.

Rayleigh's mouth leave a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your neck, and playfully nibbles your earlobe before he retrieves the lube and hands it to Roger, who eagerly grabs it. He glances at you and waits for your approving nod before releasing the bottle.

Roger coats his cock with a healthy dose of lube, then he kneels between your parted legs, lines himself up and slowly slides into you.

Heavy sighs leave you with each inch that slides in. It's electrifying, after a whole night of already very good sex, to feel new sensations, and the extra stretch of a bigger cock is quite enjoyable too.

Once he's in to the hilt he exhales a satisfied hum, wraps his large hands around your thighs and starts pounding, earning a few lewd sounds.

Gaban's hands return to your chest, playful as ever, massaging and teasing.

Rayleigh's hand cups your chin, rubs the pad of a thumb across your lower lip, prompting you to glance at him. A mischievous smile plays at the corners of his lips, and he slides two fingers between your lips, rubbing them against your tongue.

You moan around his fingers and suck them, coating them with saliva and twisting your tongue around them.

Rayleigh soon slides a third finger into your mouth, and you can't help the way your cunt clenches around Roger's cock in response.

Your Captain stops moving. "You're close?"

You whine around Rayleigh's fingers and roll your hips against Roger's, rubbing your clit against his happy trail.

Roger snaps his hips into yours and smirks as you whine. "Hold it", he says as he presses his happy trail against your swollen, throbbing clit.

You release Rayleigh's fingers with a wet sound and try to still under them. You're too close, so you whine, "I can't..."

"Hold it", Roger demands with a hungry smirk and an extra burst of Conqueror's Haki.

Your body seems heavy, unable to move for a moment where everything and even time itself seems to stand still. Then the moment is gone, you can move normally again, and while you try to even your breathing you realize with a twinge of despair that your climax is long gone. You whimper under your Captain. "That's mean..."

"Not if we want to wear you out", Roger smiles. He pulls out, earning an undignified whine at the loss, then he lays on the bed and invitingly pats his hip. "Come ride me."

"Oh, yeah." You promptly get out of Gaban's embrace and crawl to your Captain, straddling him and rubbing your wet folds against his hard cock.

The difference in size between you two is even more tangible seen from here, with Roger's powerful hips obviously larger than yours spread above his, and his hand covering yours where it lays across his stomach.

You adjust your position and guide his cock between your folds, then you slowly sink down, taking the time to appreciate the stretch of his girth deliciously filling you. You rock your hips back once your hips meet his, and exhale a low satisfied groan when you take him to the hilt.

"Greedy", Roger playfully comments.

"Sue me", you jab back, and start riding him like your life depends on it, not caring in the least how loud you moan as long as you reach out the climax that you were denied just now.

Rayleigh sits by your side and reaches out with a thumb to part your lips wider.

You absentmindedly lick, then your gaze drifts to his renewed erection. When you glance back up his gaze turned a shade darker, a shade hungrier. You smile against his thumb, and draw your tongue out as far as you can.

Rayleigh kneels beside you, stroking his cock. When you draw your tongue out he rubs the tip of his cock against it.

You adjust your position so you can bounce your hips over Roger's more easily, and you happily blow Rayleigh off again.

"So eager", Roger comments from under you, hands tightening around your hips.

Gaban appreciatively growls, drawing a side-glance from you. He's sprawled on the mattress and leisurely palming at his cock while he surveys the scene.

Rayleigh gently teases, "A bit of an exhibitionist, too?"

You moan around his cock in response.

"Let's give a good show, then", he says, pulling his cock out from your lips before kneeling behind your back.

Gaban has the courtesy of bringing you some water – you hadn't noticed how dry your lips and throat were but it's a literal lifesaver – before resuming his intense observation of you getting wrecked by the Captain and his First Mate.

Rayleigh coats his cock with some extra lube and lines it with your twitching ass. He slowly pushes in, waiting for you to adjust at the first sign of discomfort.

Roger stops moving and attentively looks at your face. He raises a hand to cup your cheek when you close your eyes and frown, and he softly asks, "You good?"

You heavily breathe, and you nod the affirmative. You lean into his touch, idly kiss his palm then open your eyes. Rayleigh still waits so you rock your hips back for him to keep going, and you hold your Captain's gaze when you next say, "Not quite enough yet."

Roger's gaze turns hungry, flickers towards Rayleigh for a moment then back to you, softness and eagerness both obvious in his eyes. The hand cupping your cheek curls close to your nape and pulls you in for a deep demanding kiss that leaves you breathless.

Rayleigh uses the distraction to slide further in, earning a few moans that get louder once you break the kiss for air.

"H– Holy fuuuck–" You groan and bite your lower lip when Rayleigh is sheathed into your ass, throbbing while you adjust. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if there's a chance you'll ever get fucked like this again. You ignore the nagging voice further back in a corner that says you can't possibly get that lucky twice.

"Fuck– You're so tight–" Rayleigh is slightly leaning over your back, heavily breathing and throbbing inside you.

You experimentally rock your hips, whining and moaning when you feel the way both cocks deliciously rub all the nice spots inside you. You take a couple of deep breaths, then you start rocking your hips like there's no tomorrow, impaling your greedy holes onto Roger and Rayleigh's cocks, feeling the stretch of your inner walls and the way they flutter around their throbbing shafts, getting close, so close...

"Don't cum just yet", Roger says as he makes eye contact with you, claiming your submission with another precise burst of Conqueror's Haki.

You freeze on the spot, light-headed but unable to do anything but obey. Your body wants, needs, demands release, tingling so hard it hurts, and with a tight coil of raw pleasure ready to snap curling deep in your gut– You can't. You heavily pant, whine, then sob. "Captain Roger..."

Roger lifts a hand to wipe a stray tear away. "Hey, hey. Look at me."

You turn blurry eyes to him.

"Does it hurt?"

You weakly nod the affirmative.

"Badly?"

You shrug and sniffle.

"I think you can hold it once more and then I'll let you cum. How does that sound?"

You whine.

"Come on, use your words."

"I'm tired..."

"My point exactly: the harder you cum, the sooner you're done with this and you can get some proper rest."

You sigh, then you weakly smile. "Okay."

Rayleigh leans over your back, breath fanning hot over your neck and shoulder when he nuzzles his nose under your ear. He huskily says, "Why don't you let us fuck you, then?"

"Yes, please", you quietly say, throwing a glance towards Gaban.

He offers you a playful smile. "Can't get enough, huh?"

You half-heartedly pout.

Rayleigh starts thrusting, slow and deep, and he's shortly followed by Roger.

You lose your composure but you manage to hold Gaban's gaze.

He swallows. "Alright..." He gets up and places himself next to you so you can blow him off.

You eagerly engulf him, and you moan of delight once you've got all of them inside you. Who knew being full of dick was so fucking satisfying? Your inner walls tighten around Roger and Rayleigh's cocks, the latter moving faster inside you, throbbing harder.

After a while the First Mate's thrusts become erratic, and the feeling of a new release inside you almost sends you off the edge–

You release Gaban's cock, heavily panting, almost there, almost–

Almost but Roger, ever so attentive, nearly chokes you with a thick burst of Conqueror's Haki, lowly ordering you, "Hold it."

You're panting and sobbing and trembling and your inner walls clench like crazy, but your climax recedes again while you're still milking Rayleigh's dick dry. You exhale a desperate whine when he pulls out, leaving you twitching and empty and dripping cum onto Roger's cock.

Gaban cups your chin, tilts it up for a deep kiss, then murmurs against your lips, "Can I?"

"Uh-huh." You nod the affirmative, too exhausted to manage more than non-verbal consent but just about desperate to cum.

Gaban kneels behind you to claim your ass, and soon enough him and Roger are fucking you silly.

Thoughts empty, body full of intense sensations, you're craving more but don't have enough force left to beg at this point. You just go with the flow, occasionally meeting Rayleigh's satisfied gaze while the other two men tag-team you.

Roger snap his hips into yours and relentlessly rubs his thick cock against your sweet spot, biting his lower lip while he pounds into you with all his might.

Gaban's hands are probably leaving fingertip-shaped bruises on your hips, and he impales your ass on his thick cock, heavily grunting and throbbing, growing harder inside you–

"Oh– ooh– fuck–" The extra throbbing, the sight beneath you, the smell and sounds in the room and– You're getting close, and you're getting close fast. "Oh– Oh fuuuck–"

Roger's intense gaze locks with yours. He dangerously smiles, and thrusts faster and deeper into you, his cock getting thicker and throbbing faster inside you.

You whine in alarm when Gaban stills behind you, snapping his hips one final time before unloading inside your ass.

"That's it", Roger lowly says. With a short wave of Conqueror's Haki he adds, "Cum hard for us."

You wail and your vision goes white. Intense, burning-hot pleasure explodes from within you, your greedy holes squeezing and milking Roger's and Gaban's cock dry, and you ride the high for what seems like an eternity, muscles tense and voice hoarse, out of breath and exhilaratingly electrified. The down hits even harder: you're a whimpering, trembling mess by the time you come back to the mortal plane and you're already laid down on the mattress after everyone pulled out. Your body goes limp and you pass out shortly afterwards.

Roger knocks at the door to Gaban's cabin then comes in, smiling at the endearing sight of you curled against Gaban on his bed. "Still asleep, huh?"

"Yeah."

Roger walks to the bed and gently brushes his fingers against your cheekbone, light as a feather.

You exhale a soft sigh in your sleep, and slightly lean into his touch.

Roger deeply hums, and his smile grows. He looks at Gaban next. "Crocus said she should be out of the woods in a few hours, that it'll take some more time to fully get the aphrodisiac out of her system."

Gaban nods. "Okay, either way I'm not surprised she's exhausted", he smiles.

"We did wear her out, huh?"

Gaban huffs a laugh. "More like fucked her brains out."

Roger widely smiles. He pats Gaban's shoulder and leans in to kiss his forehead. "Call Rayleigh or me if you need anything", he says before leaving.

"Sure." Gaban curls an arm around you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips, and murmurs, "I'm all set, though."

The sun is high up in the sky when you blearily blink awake, bright light filtering through the curtains but still somewhat blinding. You groan and turn to face the other side, meeting a warm body halfway. You blink and look up, find Gaban smiling at you. You sharply inhale as you remember why – and with who else – you spent the night in his cabin. Heat instantly rises to your face, and you're positive you've become beet red in the short moment that goes by before you duck your head in shame.

Gaban softly asks, "How do you feel?"

After a quiet moment, heart racing, you murmur, "Embarrassed."

"There's no reason to. But I meant... do you still feel the effects of the fire peaches?"

"Oh, um..." You blink and take a deep breath, then observe the sensations in your body. No acute distress despite the slight tightness in your chest, no fire inside your gut, no insatiable arousal. No foggy mind either... You move a little. "Ow, ow–" You exhale a weak chuckle. "I'm sore, but I'm... fine, thanks."

He huffs a laugh. "Predictable."

"Yeah..." You look up again. "Did you stay here, with me, all this time?"

"Yeah, I wanted to make sure you were good when you'd wake up. Roger asked me to anyway, and he made sure nobody would come here and disturb you."

You softly smile. "That's nice..."

"Don't mention it. Do you need help to stretch? Or if you're too tired, I can give you a massage."

Your cheeks heat up, and you have half a mind to think you'd be taking advantage of his kindness if you accepted, but he insists.

"I know we've been rough, so I'll be happy to relieve you a bit."

You shyly nod the affirmative.

"Lay down, then."

When you turn around you notice that you're still butt naked, though mostly clean, with no traces of your nightly activities left visible across your skin. "Did you wash me?"

Gaban's hands starts massaging, gently working their way down your nape and shoulders. "We didn't want to risk waking you up by taking you to the bathroom, so Rayleigh brought towels so we could clean the mess we'd made of you."

Your ears are burning, and you keep the rest of your questions to yourself.

Gaban's hands work wonders, relaxing knots and tensions everywhere they go, lulling you into a nice relaxed state, fully focused on his gentle hands, his warmth, the way every tension leaves you.

You start yawning when he's about midway, and apologize with an awkward smile.

"Hey, it's okay. It's supposed to make you feel more relaxed. If yawning helps, it's all good."

You yawn another few times until he's done, and your body feels lighter than ever, pampered and handled like this. "Thanks." Your gaze drifts to the side and at length, you add, "For everything. I mean it."

Gaban lays back beside you and pulls the cover over your shoulders. He traces your cheekbone with his thumb. "Hey, I wanted to help, I did. It's alright, you're fine and that's all that matters."

Heart growing a little bigger, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. "Thank you."

"And everyone very much enjoyed the whole night so don't be ashamed of anything, okay?"

You purse your lips, huff a groan.

Gaban leans in and kisses you, soft and tender.

Heat rises up to your face before he leans back.

"I said I'd do it without those fire peaches, and I meant it. Rayleigh and Roger felt the same. Stop freaking out."

You bite your lower lip. "Yeah?"

He exhales a sigh, halfway between exasperation and fondness. "Really."

"Okay", you say, and then you snuggle a little closer, selfishly enjoying the comfort of his embrace.

He smiles a little. "Now, it doesn't have to be a one-time thing if you don't want it to be. Alright?"

You fail to suppress a pleased smile and nod, immensely flustered but equally grateful. "Do you mind if I stay here a little longer?"

Gaban smiles wider. "Wouldn't want it any other way", he softly says as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you flush against him.

#one piece #op fic #nae's writing #one piece x reader #x reader #thirst material #gaban x reader #rayleigh x reader #roger x reader #gaban x rayleigh x reader #rayleigh x roger x reader #gaban x roger x reader #gaban x rayleigh x roger x reader

[swampstew]

Hi there!

Can I please request a Gol D Roger NSFW 3.Subtle intimacy piece for your Captain event?

Hello :) Thank you for your request and your patience as I knock out these sexy little stories♥ You requested a spicy tale with the King of the Pirates and I give you [ Close ] while standing remarkably close to one another, the sender is unable to stop themselves from running their gaze across the receiver’s body, lingering for a moment on their lips, before returning to initiate prolonged, intense eye contact.

Oh Captain, My Captain Roger

Warnings: Spicy, heavy petting, AFAB reader getting her rocks off via penetration, size kink, belly bulge, and creampie. Teehee. Word count: 1.4K Minors Do Not Interact.

The party on the Oro Jackson had been going for hours and there was no end in sight. Drinks, food, and music flowed in abundance as the crew celebrated another win that day. The overflowing treasure chests spilled with gold coins, gold-plated dishware, jewels, and other riches from the sheer volume; and all that gold reflected the lights on deck making the atmosphere literally glow.

Crewmates hung off one another as they danced and sang along to the music, beer swishing over the edge of their mugs as they toasted repeatedly, drunkenly stumbling around the deck in sheer joy. Being a pirate was the best! Amidst the cheer and camaraderie, two members of the crew were keeping to themselves, not noticed by the others from their position on the deck.

Tucked away from the main deck, not quite hiding but also not in plain sight, you and Captain Roger were drinking and talking together in your own private bubble. The two of you had been growing closer over the last few months, these little talks becoming more personal, more vulnerable, and you were head over heels for your Captain. You needed him like fish need water to breathe. Down bad was an understatement.

You had climbed up a few stairs on the ramp to the foremast so you didn’t have to crane your neck so high to see and speak to the man. God knows you couldn’t handle being at eye level to his bare abs for so long and still keep up intelligent conversation.

Especially in such close proximity, you could feel the heat radiating from his body. The golden necklace across his pecs jingled as he laughed at your joke, his coat edges swayed, his hair and mustache slightly trembled until they all stood still when his laughter ceased.

Being so focused on his magnificent body, you hadn’t noticed that he’d been checking you out too. You finally caught him in the act as you peered up to find out why he stopped laughing. You watched as his eyes slowly travelled up your body, lingering in some choice areas before settling on your lips for a long, silent moment, until his dark pupils finally met yours.

One breath passed. Then two.

You felt his fingers graze your chin as a bold look came over his face. He dipped his head and pressed his lips to yours and you eagerly returned the affection. Roger smiled into the kiss and pushed his firm body into yours as his tongue snaked into your mouth. You placed your hands on his chest to steady yourself as you felt the tug of primal need bend you towards him against your own volition, not that you needed much convincing. All too willing to heed his lustful call.

The sudden outburst of laughter and cheer covered up the loud moan you let out as Roger pulled your hips to meet his, feeling his hardened cock behind his pants. With a devilish smile, he took your hand and kissed the back of it, before placing your palm over his erection.

Your breath hitched as his hand left yours, waiting for your response.

With a smile on your face you rubbed his member, earning a purr from the Captain as he leaned into your touch. He felt huge. His large hips hit against yours heavily as they bucked towards you, you almost lost your footing on the stairs.

Catching you, he leaned close to your ear and gruffly whispered, “Want to move this party to the bow?”

You squeaked out a yes. He whisked you away in a swirl of his coat, pressed against his chest as he carried you to the front of the ship, setting you on the wood railing above the forward facing canon.

“How far do you want this to go, Y/N?” he held your chin again, pupils blown with lust as he stared at you like he wanted to devour you. “I don’t want to make you—”

You cut him off with a desperate lunge at his face, latching your lips to his as you pressed your breasts into his chest. Roger hadn’t expected it and while he welcomed it, he still was startled by your sudden kiss that he hit his head on the wooden bowsprit that hung above the canon, gracefully held up by marble carved mermaids. His aching head suddenly cured by the plushness of your chest heating his up.

Roger spread your legs open and hitched up your dress, pulling you into his hips to ground himself into you. You let out a mewl at the feel of his large, rod of a cock rut into you hard enough to leave a bruise on your thighs. You head fell backwards and he took the opportunity to wrap his lips around the flesh of your neck and sucked sweetly on you.

“Mmm Captain,” you whimpered out as a particularly harsh rut nearly made you cream.

He let out a gentle laugh, “You never answered darlin’.”

“I need you inside me Captain.”

Even in the dim moonlight you could see his cheeks flushed darkly from your enthusiastic words. Shock swiped from his face, he gave you a confident grin and continued his assault on your skin down to your breasts. Suckling your tender flesh as he unbuckled his pants, letting them drop to the floor. His fingers hooked your underwear, teasingly pulling them off while his cock pressed against your core, pulling the fabric back to cover his cock with it as he pushed into your heat.

Either the fabric or his massive, engorged head stopped him from penetrating you and you weren’t sure which was the real culprit. A whine was ripped from your throat as he pulled back, taking your panties with him.

The next thing you felt was the silky feeling of his skin as his cock pressed against your core, demanding entrance. His size prevented him from sinking in – at first. He gently thrusted into you, slowly sliding himself in as your pussy stretched to fit around him. There was a burn to the stretch but you didn’t cry out in pain, you cried out in pleasure as he filled you up with swollen hardness.

Rocking into you and hitting all your sensitive spots, his tip bounced off your cervix, his balls followed up each thrust with a loud smack against your ass. The leftover length that couldn’t fit inside you was rapidly lubricated with your slick as he worked you up.

You fell backwards on your elbows as he fucked you, your breasts bounced freely with each hit of his hips against yours. His thumbs and fingertips dug into your flesh as he pounded into you, mesmerized by how much of you he could fit in his hands. The grin on his face never faltered as grinded into you, making electric sparks shoot through your veins as the heat in your lower belly grew. It peaked when you reached down to touch your clit and your hand ran down your own stomach, feeling the bulge from within move to the rhythm of his pace. With a choked scream, you clamped down on him when you came, making the Captain choke.

“Ff-fuck! Y’er so tight Y/N,” he managed to groan out, increasing his motions to bring himself over the edge.

Whimpering from the overstimulation once your orgasm faded, his cock bullied into your gummy walls seeking release. Roger’s hands grabbed your hips and jut his hips in you with long, precise strokes. Sweat rolled off his face to your chest as he came with low grunts escaping his trademark grin.

He slammed into you, spurting white all over your walls, flooding your cavern. The heat of his cum and his grinding against your cervix as he was spilling sent you into a second orgasm. Your cream mixed with his pleasure as your textured walls convulsed on his cock. A final, shrill whine left your mouth, swallowed by his lips as he kissed you through your orgasm.

Kissing you as his hands wandered down to your legs and to your feet. You felt him place something over your leg but his face blocked your view from seeing his actions. His tongue kept you in a daze as he pulled himself from your core and brought your legs together, sliding that same something over your over leg. It was your panties.

He slid them up until they sat snug around your hips. The fabric didn’t stand a chance against your mixed juices, immediately soaking through the material. With a blush, you crossed your thighs to try and stop the leaking flow. Roger winked as you and covered you with his coat, escorting you inside to put you to his bed.

#gol d. roger #gol d roger x you #roger x reader #oh captain my captain mini event #swampstew bedtime stories #swampstew #swampstew stories #gold roger

[kakesuki]

Watching Naruto again and seeing how Orochimaru basically manipulated Sasuke and his dreams, made sure to put salt on any and every one of the wounds he could reach, kept blaming him for everything that had happened to him because yes, Sasuke was getting better and he KNEW it and that monster just needed to steal the child's body

Literally watching Anko, Anko who knew well Orochimaru, Anko who knew his mark's effect and how bad it was, ask Hiruzen to put Sasuke in quarantine because like i said, she knew how bad it was; just for him to be like 'nah, let's wait a little'

Like??? Bro literally giving an Uchiha to Oro in a golden plate--

And people still hate on Sasuke for leaving? Like Am I missing something??? Because to me, the boy seemed more like a victim of awful adults than a villain himself

#i need therapy rn #naruto #sasuke uchiha #Sasuke deserved better #Orochimaru anti #orochimaru #anti hiruzen #Boy was getting better #“We can't let him with Naruto or he might just actually stop thinking or revenge and become a normal child” OH YES BECAUSE THAT WOULD BE BA #And then Orochimaru just got forgiven?? Fucking hell no!

[kylorengarbagedump]

Better Than Credits (NSFW)

Read on AO3.

Summary: You're not a hustler - you're an artist. And the upper levels of Coruscant have become your favorite playground of late. Your patron tonight is on a Sabacc hot-streak - you plan to reap the rewards, too, until his ego has him placing you in the winnings pot.

Normally, it wouldn't be an issue. Your tactics always earn him a win. But this time, he's challenged by the most dangerous man in the galaxy - a man whose stare sends a thrill up your spine.

And now, you kind of hope you lose.

Words: 10.2k

Warnings: Cad Bane is Not Nice, Canon-typical violence

Characters: Cad Bane x Reader

A/N: THIS IS CO-WRITTEN WITH MY GORGEOUS LOVE @bastillia.

Hope y'all enjoyed! We had a blast writing it. It's a bit more niche, sure, but look. We want to fuck Cad Bane, and that's the way it is.

This literally took us an entire year because I decided to change careers and then move across the country and then go to a bootcamp and then get a job and then we moved into a new apartment. BUT NOW IT'S DONE.

Thank you to Faestae for your sprint tips. Thank you to all of my friends for encouraging me.

Love y'all so much! Talk to you soon. <3

“Raise.”

Trek pushes forth another stack of credits to the center of the table, gilded edges gleaming across the polished wood. Across from him, a Weequay folds, groaning as his cards collapse.

“This is bantha shit,” he says.

Trek snorts, crimson lip curling to expose his razor yellow teeth. “Give it up, Oros,” he replies, examining his hand. “If you weren’t ready to lose, you shouldn’t have played.”

“You’re pulling something, Varcast.”

A Trandoshan adds to the mound of credits, leveling Trek with his gaze. “Call.”

Oros rolls his eyes. “Are you not seeing this, Ussik?”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Trek turns, glimpses you, his coal stone stare dipping to your cleavage. “You got any idea, baby?”

It happens in a single bat of your lashes. Giggling, you toss a coquettish look across the table, tits jiggling underneath the thin swatches of black silk meant to conceal them. It’s enough to break the focus of every single cardholder still at the table—and in that moment, Trek swaps his Commander card for the Balance card you’d had tucked at your hip.

“No,” you say, lip plumping in mock-despair. The Commander card slips into the open slot. “I don’t.”

Trek clucks his tongue, like he’s disappointed. “That’s too bad,” he says. “Oh well.” Shrugging, he chuckles to himself and spreads his cards to the sky before pushing them forward and leaning into his seat.

A perfect 23.

“Sabacc.”

The rest of the table curses, tossing their hands across the table in disgust. A wide grin slithers over Trek’s face and he bends to gather his spoils in his arms, dragging all of it—credits, jewelry, precious gems—into his growing pile.

“Kriffing bantha shit,” Oros grumbles, and shoves from the table to wander back to the casino.

Laughter quakes through the gathered crowd as he disappears. Trek leans toward you, cutting a smile, his fingers snaking behind your shoulders and tugging you close.

“Typical Weequays.” Trek loops a new necklace chain around one of his big, red fingers and dangles it in front of you. “Sore losers, the lot of them. Ain’t that right?”

You giggle and offer a shy smile to the table, pushing the necklace away as if he’s embarrassed you by being so bold.

“Another round?” the dealer asks, gathering the cards.

Trek slicks a hand along one of his horns, the other gripping your shoulder and gently jostling you. “You kidding?” he says. “While I got my lucky charm here?” His black-knife nails prick your skin. “Deal me in.”

“I need to get me one of those,” a Nikto says, his attention zipping over your stringy dress. “She for hire?”

Ussik hisses in agreement, fork tongue flicking through his teeth. “Don’t be greedy. Pass the luck around.”

A ripple of hungry snickering passes through the men. You want to groan in disgust—but you defer to Trek instead, peeking at him like you’re worried he’ll agree. He laughs, picks up his cards and appraises them before lowering his hand and shifting to meet your stare. Two heavy fingers pinch your chin, his claws catching your lower lip, and he shakes you.

“I think she likes where she’s at.” His hot breath brushes your face, and he releases you with a pat of your cheek. “Go get me a drink, baby.”

You glide up from your seat, curving your spine only a little more than necessary with the motion. Heat presses your ears as you turn away and promptly feel every set of eyes at the table adhere to your silk-framed ass.

“Alright, alright, get your tongues off the floor, boys. We playing, or what?”

Trek’s admonishment makes you giggle, and you toss one last faux-coy smile over your shoulder before setting off.

There’s no need to hurry while you meander towards the bar on the opposite side of the casino. Trek’s winning streak has him in good spirits, and you can already taste your cut at the end of the night. Plus, this is the first opportunity you’ve had to properly analyze your surroundings. You’d be remiss not to take advantage.

It’s busy tonight, packed with well-dressed socialites, business folk, even a few politicians from what you can glimpse. The air is thick and sweet, scattered with prismatic chandelier light that softens through wisps of expensive spice smoke.

The upper levels of Coruscant have become your favorite playground of late. Each of your senses is alight with luxury, the weight of the pockets passing you by almost tangible. It puts a glint to your eye and a sway to your hips. You know you look like temptation incarnate–so what’s wrong with attracting a little attention from prospective clients?

Some may look down on it, but you feel no shame in letting men pay for your company. With Trek, it’s as lucrative as it is simple—he wins, you win.

It’s the more lascivious caveats to your arrangement with him that, if you’re honest, you could do without. But for the money, it’s easy enough to endure. For now, Trek pays you well to keep things exclusive… and intimate.

At least he never lasts long.

Your heels tap the carpet with your stride, a metronome to the pleasant dance of silk around your thighs. Just a few more steps, and the bar is finally within your sights. But just as soon as it appears, it’s cut from view.

You slam to a halt, nearly falling over a couple who cut off your path, as if neither of them even saw you there. They stammer an apology while you recover your balance, though they both seem much more occupied with putting as much distance between themselves and the table behind them as possible.

Brow knitting, you turn in the direction they came from. Others move with similar haste, like clouds parting, all from a centerpoint on one tall figure walking leisurely towards a dice table.

He certainly stands out against this ostentatious crowd. You’re not typically one to stare, but he draws you like a seeker drone to a heat signature.

Long and lithe, his shape is an uncanny shadow over the scintillating room. He comes to a stop at the table, all fine leather and savoir-faire as he leans up against the edge. One long blue hand disappears into his jacket, then starts stacking credits on the betting line. He seals the wager with a tip of a wide-brimmed hat.

A sudden wetness gathers in your mouth, and the force that pulls you towards him is almost gravitational. The same burning curiosity which must tempt a Tooka-cat to jeopardize one of its nine lives for a particularly challenging prey. As you draw closer, the sheen of a blaster hilt flashes beneath his long jacket tail.

Yes, there is certainly something dangerous about this stranger. And certainly something enticing. And it’s not just the tower of golden credits now stacked on the velvet.

You sidle up to the space beside the tall Duros—the other players have left him a wide berth. Your thighs tingle.

“You look familiar.”

He doesn’t look up when you speak, just studies the table while he rocks a pair of dice between long, cerulean fingers.

“Haven’t I seen you somewhere before?”

It’s a hackneyed line, sure, but it usually does the job of starting a conversation. You shift your weight through your hips. He still doesn’t look up.

“You should hope not.” His voice sits deep in his chest, underlaid with a mechanical rumble that lights a tingle up your spine. “Unless you got a keen taste for trouble.”

The croupier calls for his throw. A devious urge flutters in your ribs.

“Breath of luck?”

A smirk touches his lips at that, toothpick shifting between them.

“Luck’s an avaricious whore.” His eyes finally spear you, twin red plasma beams that burn the breath from your chest. “Prefer to take my chances without her blessin’.”

At that, his arm winds back, and he launches the dice in a perfect arc across the table. They clatter and settle, revealing a Pilot’s Seven. You let out an airy laugh.

“Looks like she fancies you anyways.”

He peers down at you, toothpick bobbing between his teeth. If he’s at all affected by the subtle shift of your shoulders, or the way your lashes flutter when you meet his eyes, it doesn't show. His gaze never falls any lower than your own—somehow that warms your cheeks even more.

A voice on your other side makes you turn.

“I’d take some of that luck there, gorgeous.”

The speaker, an Abednedo, grins and offers his dice palm-up. You glance once more at the Duros, flash him a silken smile before redirecting it to his opponent.

“My pleasure.”

You bend slightly at the waist, letting your dress ride just a little higher up your thighs. By your measure, your stranger should have a perfect view. Your lips wrap into a soft o and you blow a puff of air over the Abednedo’s palm. He hefts the dice appreciatively, and throws.

An arc, a clatter.

Harch Eyes.

“Winner!” the croupier declares.

The Abednedo cheers, wrapping his arm around you and wobbling you in joy. You giggle, plant a chaste kiss on the wrinkles of his hairy cheek before politely peeling him from your frame. He’s too elated to notice, already occupying himself with counting his spoils like an eager child. The Duros is silent, stare finding you again.

It’s icier, harsher than the dead air of space. Its severity clips your bones.

But you don’t let that scare you. Instead, you smirk and turn away, tossing a vulpine look over your shoulder.

“That’s too bad,” you say. “You’ll get ‘em next time.”

With that, you depart the table, a flutter in your belly and a swing in your stride. You stop by the bar to grab Trek’s requested drink: always something sour poured over stones. His taste gives a new meaning to on the rocks.

You return to a few new and predictably demoralized faces, shoulders sunk in a circle, another heap of gold and silver credits glimmering in the center. It’s moved fast—this game is already in its last round, and Trek has anted up without your assistance. Batches of discarded hands are strewn over the tabletop, leaving Trek and Ussik as the final two players, again.

From yards away, you can spy a flash of Trek’s cards and frown. He’s being reckless. You shouldn’t have left him.

Sparing a sweet smile to the crowd, you saunter up to the table and sink into your seat, pushing the glass toward Trek and swallowing the urge to cough as a whiff of acid shoots up your nose and behind your eyes.

“There she is,” he says, and quaffs the whole glass, stones and all in a single gulp. “What do you think, sweetheart?” He flashes you his hand, a triumphant sneer on his face. “Should I swap or stand?”

You hum, pursing your lips. There isn’t a card in the deck that will save his current hand. You almost want to get up and leave, just to punish him for being an idiot.

“Well,” you say, breathy and brainless, “I think you should...” You shrug your shoulders for emphasis, your arms pushing your tits together again. “Stand.”

Trek grins and angles his cards face-down. “You heard the lady. Your move.”

Ussik’s lizard leer switches between you and Trek, then to the horde of credits in the center of the table. It’s like you can hear him running the possibilities through his head—he wants to keep going. Thinks there’s no way he can lose this one. But Trek’s hot streak has him too nervous.

He folds.

“Ha!” Trek guffaws, and tosses his cards on the table. He sweeps an arm around his newest winnings. “You always were a coward.”

Ussik emits a rattling hiss, and sweeps back from the table. “Don’t call me when your luck runs out, Varcast.”

A chorus of jeers follows him away. The dealer begins organizing the table for a new round, and you draw a long breath through your teeth.

That was too close. It’s a miracle the bluff even worked, and now Trek’s high on winning, letting his better judgment fail. There’s a deep, glittering hunger to his stare when he turns to you, taking advantage of the shuffling of players to pull you close and press his lips to your ear.

“You’re gonna get fucked senseless tonight.” His breath is hot and rancid down your neck. “Covered in pretty jewels.”

“Trek!” You force a giggle, not letting your guise slip even as bile rises in your throat. You push at him playfully, but keep close enough to whisper. “Why don’t you take a break? We’re ahead, let’s not push this too far.”

No sooner can you manage the suggestion than the dealer is signaling last call, and a hush alights over the table. You straighten.

Directly across from you, the crowd has parted slightly. A tall shape now settles into the vacant seat there, hat brim concealing half of his face. Below its edge, there’s an ivory flash of fang, the shift of a toothpick.

The dealer cuts the silence. “Will you be joining us this round, mister Bane?”

A cold vise wraps your chest. The hat brim lifts, and red eyes pierce you.

“Deal me in.”

Your mouth parts, a thick web of realization congealing in your throat. It all makes sense, now—the hat, the leather, the blaster, the deferent jittery crowd.

His face hadn’t been familiar. But his name is.

Trek shoulders you aside, obsidian twinkling in his gaze. “If it ain’t Cad Bane!” he says, slamming his fist on the table. Audacity swarms him like a second skin, and he beckons for cards. “I’ll almost feel bad taking your money.”

Bane’s name is, in fact, synonymous with terror on every planet you’ve visited. And you’d just taunted him like a slut.

You swallow the realization. His attention is still trained on you.

“I never feel bad about takin’ anything,” Bane replies.

Your thighs press together. The round starts. Everyone’s focus snaps to the cards.

Beside you, Trek vibrates with glee. He reminds you of a kid waiting to prank his sibling, his victory already decided. When his turn arrives, he draws a card and nudges a few tall columns of credits to the center of the table, chuckling to himself.

“We’ll start with that, then.” His chest is puffed like a shaak’s ass.”Should be chump change for a guy like you.”

Every player peeks at Bane from behind the safety of their cards, nervous whispers creeping through the crowd. If there’s any true danger, Trek is more oblivious to it than a corpse. The toothpick twirls between Bane’s incisors. He draws a card.

“Call.”

He doesn’t even stack a credit before two players fold, distancing themselves from the table as if it’s made of flames. You glimpse Trek’s hand—with two people already out, his odds of winning with what he’s got could still improve. Pinching your lip between your teeth, you examine the abandoned cards, counting those left upturned before your eyes catch Bane’s again.

His scrutiny siphons the air from your lungs, shoots an electric thrill through your spine. Gooseflesh tickles your shoulders, and you massage it away, like the chill is from the air and not the primal flutter in the back of your brain.

“Just calling?” Trek says, swapping a card out from the pile. “You don’t wanna raise the stakes?”

Bane is nonplussed. “I got nothing to prove to a hustler.”

Trek shrugs. “Suit yourself, merc.” He collects more than half of his night’s earnings and guides them to the center. “Raise.”

Fuck, he’s going to blow every last credit on sheer pride at this rate. Idiot. Not that you care if he makes a fool of himself. It’s not your problem. But it is your money.

Two more players fold, crumpling under the high stakes and stalking away from the table to a ripple of murmurs from the crowd. That leaves only Trek and Bane remaining.

Your pulse picks up speed. From the corner of your eye, you again seek out a few abandoned cards left face up, and file the suits away in your brain.

“Call.” Bane’s voice is black ice. Your focus shifts to him, and you’re scorched again by his level stare.

To conceal a rush of nerves, you shift to peer at Trek’s cards. His hand is decent, but not worth the wager he’s set. At least, until you see his thumb shift, a signal that only you can see. His obsidian nail taps one card, and then another.

“I’d have thought a man of your caliber would bring a harder wager.” Trek taunts, a distraction from the silent communication he’s sending you. He swaps one of his other cards, and then pushes the rest of his horde to the center of the table. “Raise.”

Your pulse climbs. Of course, he wants to seal his victory with something unbeatable–an Idiot’s Array. And he can do it with what he’s got. All he needs is one little face card that now burns like a brand against your flesh, resting concealed under your dress.

“Man of my caliber don’t need two sets of eyes.”

Bane’s stare is burning you again, unbreaking when he calls the raise with another stack of credits. Your breath shortens.

“Who, this little minx?” Trek turns and brings a rough hand down on the inside of your thigh, eyes glinting. “Her skills are best employed at the end of the night, if you catch my meaning.”

His grip slides up your leg, pushing your dress up with the movement. You squeal at his boldness and swat him away, batting your lashes to the table in mock embarrassment when a few whistles rise from the crowd. As you pretend to yank your dress back down, two of your fingers slip under the hem and free the card from the band of your underwear. You tuck it under your palm.

The theatrics are typically enough to throw almost anyone off your scent. After all, Trek is naturally obnoxious, and you’re naturally gifted at playing dumb. With the final adjustment in your seat, you survey the table. And your stomach twists.

Bane isn’t just watching you. He’s inspecting you. Under the rim of his hat, his eyes narrow, a hunter’s confirmation that you’re his game. He’s tracked your every move. Probably registered the card pull, too. A soft breath hitches in your throat, and your belly tightens. Somewhere below your waist, something stirs with agitated heat. Your gaze drifts over his long, nimble fingers—you wonder what they’d feel like on your skin.

Clearing your throat with a demure giggle, you break away, ignoring the warmth flooding your cheeks, the back of your neck. You need to focus.

“Taking a while to take your turn.” Trek leans back. “You afraid of losing?” His voice rises in mockery. “Is that not something that happens to you often?”

Bane couldn’t look more unamused if someone had just told him everyone he’d ever loved was dead. But that might’ve already been true, anyway.

“Interesting game you’re runnin’,” he says. “You could walk away now with all those credits.”

“Walk away?” Trek replies. “When I have you on the ropes?” He nudges you, knocks you a bit off balance in his excitement. “How many people get to say they bested Cad Bane? Huh, baby?”

Finally, Bane swaps a card. Pauses. Then pushes forth another big stack of gold. “Raise.”

Trek frowns. “Call.”

“You ain’t got any credits left.”

“Oh, now you’re desperate. Trying to get me to bow out.” Trek laughs, invites the crowd forward. He’s getting louder. “Who wants to see Cad Bane lose a game of Sabacc?”

You swallow, try to busy yourself with the hem of your dress. Normally, you’d feel confident with The Idiot card in your hand. But Bane’s unshakable coolness makes you believe that Trek doesn’t pose a threat. Given the cards you’ve spotted, you think you know—Bane’s capable of an Idiot’s Array, too. And since he’s caught you counting, he knows that you know, too.

Trek’s about to blow your entire payment. Asshole.

Plastering your face with a saccharine innocence, you tug Trek’s arm like a sleepy ingenue.

“Trek,” you murmur, “I’m tired. Maybe we should take him up on his offer.” You trail a nail down his bicep. “Head back to the room with all those jewels?”

Snorting, Trek eases you free. “You can’t tell me you want to get out right when we’re at our big break?”

“Listen to your little assistant,” Bane says. “Unless you’re gonna call.”

“You keep saying that,” Trek says. “I don’t have an assistant. I have company.” He pauses, then offers a patronizing smile. “If you’re so jealous, I’ll toss her into the pot. One night with her.”

You balk, jaw dropped. “Are you—”

The words that want to come out aren’t polite. So you bite your tongue, and look from Trek to Bane.

He is silent for a moment, seeming to turn something over in his mind. Then he sits back, perches an elbow on his armrest, and drums his fingers once on the table’s edge.

“Dunno ‘bout that.” He passes his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other, the hint of a smirk beginning to twist at the corner. “How do I know she’s worth my wager?”

Trek chuckles, then gestures to the crowd. “I think any man here would pay the same, if he could.”

A ripple of agreement goes through them, and the hairs on your neck raise. Normally, you’d revel in the attention. But you can’t assess Bane’s angle, and that unsettles you. Compounded with feeling like a fathier at auction, you almost prickle. And then Trek turns to you again, eyes glazed with greed.

“Get up and give us a twirl, baby, show the man what he’s betting on.”

Your blood sizzles the underside of your skin, and you try not to gawk at him. There aren’t enough curses in enough languages to span where you want to tell Trek to go fuck himself to right now, but there also isn’t enough time. You glance to Bane. His smirk has only grown, now stretching into a cruel, expectant half-smile as his full attention blazes you.

The realization snaps like a wire in your belly. He’s getting off on this. Punishing you for your earlier behavior, reveling in your humiliation. A sudden wave of arousal slams you, setting every inch of your skin ablaze while you move with leaden limbs to stand.

Until your last shred of wit finally reminds you of the hidden card still tucked under your palm.

Using your movement and the table as cover, you cross your legs and slot the card between your foot and the sole of your strappy shoe. Without breaking fluidity, you push your chair back, and rise.

Another round of whistles resounds as you step into full view and turn in a circle, managing just enough theatrics to throw in a giggle despite your insides performing a tumbling act. Trek has leaned back, the picture of a proud auctioneer, one arm raised to gesture up and down your body.

“I think she speaks for herself, wouldn’t you say?”

Oh, you could kill him.

But then your attention darts across the table. Bane’s posture is still relaxed, his long frame tipped back into his chair—but for the first time, his gaze dips below your chin.

His eyes trail over your bare, pretty neck and shoulders, linger along your clavicle, and appraise your tits, barely concealed, the shadow of your nipples poking through. Inches lower, and you know he’s imagining your belly, your hips, everything you’d flaunted before he’d sat down. This stare is no longer hunting.

It’s devouring.

A predator with prey in grasp, reveling in its last shallow breaths.

The toothpick rolls, Bane’s lip curling to reveal ivory fangs. “You got a deal.”

Murmurs ripple, punctuated by a few elbow jabs and the underhanded passing of bets. Trek’s grin stretches wider, greedier. You slip back into your chair, stomach twisting into knots.

He has no idea what he’s just done.

“That’s what I like to hear!” Trek opens his arm in a grand gesture, earning cheers of agreement. “Now let’s play.”

The ghost of a smirk still plays over Bane’s face as his attention lingers on you for a moment, then flicks to his cards. Every inch of your skin burns, and in the bottom of your brain, a terrible idea rises like a curl of steam. Your toes twitch against the hidden card.

“Shall we move to the showdown, then?” The dealer’s diplomatic tone feels lost within the cloud of static charging the air.

Your pulse drums your ribs when you watch Bane’s mouth beneath the brim of his hat, the way his lips massage the toothpick in thought. Your pulse rolls lower, that idea simmering and taking shape.

“What d’you say, merc?” Trek’s sneer saturates his voice. “Or is the wager not appealing enough for your tastes?”

Your foot slides beneath the table, drawing an unseen path to the killer across from you. Bane evaluates his hand as if Trek is a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“Your wager seemed more interested in blowin’ on my dice than helpin’ you out before I sat down.”

You cross your arms on the table, avoiding the laser of Trek’s glare at your temple. He nudges you, a signal to act, but you pretend he’s accidentally bumped you and shoot him a quick leer.

He snorts. “Doesn’t matter anyway. She can do whatever she wants.” His jaw tight, he adds, “You just can’t admit you’re about to lose.”

Bane hasn’t glanced from his cards, and your foot extends further. With one final stretch, you find the inside of his leg. He flinches a millimeter, his eyes lock to yours—and he’s still, allowing you to slide upwards until you meet the bend of his knee. His attention returns to his cards.

“Maybe you can’t admit you ain’t her only option.”

“Option?” Trek throws up his hands. “I think she has all that she needs right here!” The crowd urges him on, and Trek jabs you again, harder this time under the noise. When you don’t respond, he does it again. “Right, baby?”

The edge in his voice scrapes your ears, and you frown, turning your shoulder to him. You rest the ball of your foot on the edge of Bane’s seat, nuzzle your toes just a bit between his thighs. Pulse in your throat, you wait.

“Ha! I think, I think he’s scared! Cad Bane is scared, boys!” Trek demands participation, shaking you to remind you of the play you’ve rehearsed for months. His palm is sweating. “He’s trying to play some mind game or something!”

Bane’s gaze slips down between his legs for just the shadow of a second, then returns to his opponent while he waits for the ruckus to fade.

“Let’s finish this dance, hustler.” A pointed smile unfurls under the hat brim. “Seein’ as you’re all out of moves.”

Beneath the table, cool fingers wrap over the arch of your foot. Bane’s hand slides down along the delicate skin, his touch slow and indulgent in a way that makes shivers erupt up your spine. He lingers over your perfectly manicured toes, then slides the hidden card out from beneath them.

Trek forces a smile, his laughter like shattered glass. “Out of moves?” He looks to you, eyes wide.

You respond with equal confusion, as if you either don’t know what he’s talking about or can’t find where the card went. Saturation drains from his face, and he blows a long, frustrated huff through his nose.

“Gentlemen.” The dealer interjects, tone unwavering. “Showdown, please.”

“Fine.” With a suck of his corn cob teeth, Trek throws his hand on the table. “Twenty in Flasks.”

He settles back, hands coming up to rest behind his head. The crowd swells—cheers, mutters, and whistles surrounding the table. And then all eyes shift to Cad Bane.

The hat brim cocks, and then lifts. Plasma-red certainty sucks every breath from the room, and a cruel smile curves his lips. He spreads his hand to view. Your heart thumps—you didn’t even spot the exchange. But there in the center, like a crowning jewel, sits your clandestine gift. That tiny face card.

“Idiot’s Array.”

An explosive cheer erupts around you, and Trek juts forward in disbelief, his eyes darting over the table—the cards, the credits, the jewels—like he��s watching a mirage shimmer into dust. You swallow, inching away in your seat. He’s never lost this big. Not with you.

“Bantha shit!” he roars, shooting from his seat. “Cheat! You cheated me, merc!”

Bane is cooler than a neutron star. “I gave you a chance to back out.”

The dealer moves to exchange Trek’s winnings to Bane, but Trek slams his big fist on the table, sending credits flying. You flinch, sweat creeping up your spine. You knew he’d get angry. You didn’t think he’d get violent.

“No!” He scratches at the moving pile, snatching a handful. “This is mine! These are mine—you’re not taking shit, Bane—”

“Mister Varcast,” the dealer says, “I’m sorry, but—”

Trek snarls. “No! He didn’t win! He—he must have—”

As proof, he gestures to the Idiot’s Array. His gaze hovers there. He pauses. Silent, his ears draw back, his muscles lock and his shoulders bunch. Your stomach collapses, you stumble out of your seat—he’s a storm, whirling on you with demonic fury.

“You!” Trek reaches for you and you shove him away, staggering backward. “You little—”

He tries to grapple you again, but chairs are between the two of you, Cad Bane in your periphery. Howling in rage, Trek sweeps half the table clean in one swing, credits and cards and gemstones crashing to the floor. He’s heaving, eyes wild as he prepares to clear the other side, and stalls when he spots the empty drink you’d grabbed for him.

Lip furling, he seizes the tumbler, reels back and hurls it straight at you.

Before you can scream, a red beam shatters the glass. Another slams Trek in the chest and eats a hole to his heart. He chokes, stutters, stealing a final horrified glance at you. Then his black pebble pupils roll into his skull and he topples to the table in a heavy thunk.

You exhale your relief, your throat thick with dissipating fear. Beside you, Cad Bane spins his blaster on his finger and stuffs it back in its holster.

With a sniff, he flicks his toothpick onto the body. “That’s no way to treat a lady.”

The room is silent, every onlooker paralyzed and slack-jawed. You tremble, still clutching the edge of the table, its solidity helping to calm the ringing in your ears. It’s not like you’ll miss Trek. You’re just happy to be in one piece. And for the past thirty seconds, your heartbeat may as well have stopped entirely. It awakens now in your cunt, every fiber of your body blazing to life and aching for the man rising slowly beside you.

Not one person dares to move, and that only makes your thighs clench harder as Bane moves around behind you and lays a hand on the small of your back. He reaches into his coat, then tosses a compact bundle of credits to the dealer—the only person in the room who appears unfazed.

“For the mess.” He gestures to the scattered riches. “Y’know where to send this.”

“Indeed, mister Bane.”

Bane nods once, touching a thumb and forefinger to the brim of his hat. His hand presses your back. Mind numb, you allow him to lead you, past Trek’s slumped, smoking corpse, through the stunned crowd. All the way through the doors of the grand turbolift, situated between vaulting glass panes that frame the neon cityscape outside. It’s only once the doors glide shut, seal you in a crystalline box with a killer, that your brain produces a single coherent thought.

You’re going to fuck Cad Bane.

Instead of choosing a floor, Bane scans his gauntlet against the lift panel. It chirps in recognition and you’re moving, flying high into the sky.

Even cast in the spell of night, Coruscant thrums with sleepless life, a thrumming that resonates where Bane’s hand still rests—inches above the swell of your ass. Your tongue traces the seam of your lips and your focus drifts from the horizon, to his reflection, to him.

Bane is a walking weapon, optimized for tactical violence from the rockets strapped to his boots to the apparatus plugged under his cheeks. There is no softness, no tender curve to any part of him; even his face is sharp bones and fangs. You wonder how his mouth will feel on your throat, how his body will press into yours in his bed. A thrill squeezes your chest, and you draw in a breath. He smells like petrichor and dying plasma.

From the corner of his sight, he catches you staring. His lip curls in disgust, he drops his hand from your back.

“Don’t bother performin’. I ain’t payin’.”

You blink, tilt your head. Before you can reply, the lift doors open, and your mind blanks.

Mouth parted, you enter the penthouse suite, heels clicking obsidian tile. Jet panels embedded with glowing veins jut from the walls, soaring to claim the ceiling. Doors branch off the perimeter, but before you, the room stretches out to a stone dais decorated with lavish furniture. Floor-to-ceiling panes of glass encircle it, revealing the still-thrumming city miles below.

The thrumming feels urgent, now. Throbbing.

Your eyes devour the fine decor, every glint of light refracted in crystal detailing. Even the floor feels expensive under your feet, sending a tingle from your toes all the way up your neck with each step. You come to a stop just before the shallow stairs that lead up the dais, hand stretching out to appreciate a piece of furniture.

“Touch anything, and you’re dead.”

You pause, biting your lip against the smile that tries to spread. “I don’t know what kind of company you typically keep, mister Bane. But I’m an artist, not a thief.”

“An artist.” The word withers on his tongue.

“Yes.“ Your smile wins out. “There’s an art to good strategy, wouldn’t you say?” You resume your course, finger trailing along the back of the couch, savoring the ridges in its expensive upholstery. You cast a glance back over your shoulder.

Bane is following you at a distance, tracking your pace across the room. A shiver drags up your spine.

“Remind me never to take strategic advice from you.”

That makes you scoff.

“Oh please, like you’ve never had a job go sideways.” You turn to face him with a shrug. “That moron had it coming. Everything that happened tonight went exactly by my design.” His eyes narrow almost imperceptibly at that. Almost. “Believe it or not, I keep tricks up my sleeve even you’ve never heard of.”

“That so?” He continues to stalk towards you, his path now more direct. “Well, ain’t you clever?”

You back coyly up the steps, into the wash of neon-kissed light spilling through the enormous circle of windows. After a few strides, your back presses cold glass. Bane doesn’t stop. He prowls up the stairs and into your space, only stopping once he’s close enough that your tits brush his torso with your shallow breaths. His head cocks.

“But I’m pretty sure you keep ‘em somewhere else.”

With that, he wrenches one side of your dress all the way up your thigh and over your hip, revealing at least four cards tucked into the band of your underwear.

You gasp up at him, your face plastered in theatrical shock. A giggle bubbles from your chest. “How did those get there?”

He gives a low snarl and wrenches you around, shoves you tits-first against the window and lifts the other side of your dress, baring your ass and the rest of your cache on the other hip. His fingers hook under your thong, and with a quick yank, he rips the scrap of fabric from your body. Cards flutter to the floor at your feet.

“You’re quick, I’ll give y’that.” He smooths down the curve of your ass, drawing a hiss of pleasure from you. “But only quick enough to fool those cock-brained idiots down there.”

“Teacher, teacher!” You laugh, the sound airy and provocative in your throat, and then put on an exaggerated pout. “Such criticism. Forgive me, I didn’t realize you were qualified to evaluate my tactics.”

The roll of his eyes is almost palpable.

“I ain’t got your assets—“ he gives your ass a lazy swat “—but I am faster than you.”

You can’t stop the grin that spreads. “Then maybe I can learn a few lessons from those expert hands of yours.”

In emphasis, you arch your back and wiggle your hips. Bane’s palm cracks you this time, square on one asscheek, earning a tiny squeal.

“I’ll make sure of that.”

Excited air escapes you. “Fuck…”

“Just one thing I can’t figure.” The rumble of his voice against your spine makes you shudder. “What d’you get out of throwin’ the game?”

“Well, if I played my cards right…” You hum, trying to lean into his touch. “I’ll be reaping my reward very soon.”

Bane snorts, his breath washes your neck with gooseflesh. “Hope it’s better’n credits, ‘cause I already told you I ain’t paying.”

You bite your lip and reach backwards, trying to sense the lines of his body in order to reach your target. It doesn’t take long—you find the edge of his jacket, then the firm leather of his belt. You lay your palm flat over the buckle, slide blindly down the seam of his trousers until… yes.

His cock is straining already, hard and eager against his thigh.

“Oh, it will be.” You hum, and slide your palm down its length, over the coarse fabric entrapping him. The feeling makes your mouth water. Jaw slackening, you lick your lips. “Consider me willing to wager on it.”

A quiet, hungry sound vibrates at your back, and Bane’s grip digs you like a shock. He cups and kneads your ass, his long fingers dipping close to the pulsing heat between your legs—you fight the urge to buck into them. His other hand, cool and firm, clasps the back of your neck and flattens your face along the transparisteel. You gasp in delight, planting your palms to steady you while he tests your body’s response.

“You coulda played that Idiot’s Array,” he mutters. The hand between your legs loops around to the front of your thigh. “Walked out of here rich.”

“Yes,” you manage to reply. He’s close, so close to where you want him, need him to touch you. Your clit pulses for attention. “And you could have played that Twenty-Two you had. Ace high, Stave Flush, was it? You would have won.” He twitches against your skin—you clocked him with that. You smile. “But you took my card anyway.”

Bane’s hand slides down your thigh, groping the flesh there, stroking shivers alive through your nerves. He glides up, over your hip, and when you whine, he jerks his hips into you.

“What’s your point?” Desire is a microscopic tear in his tone. He eases back, squeezes your ass again, hard enough to spread your lips just slightly. “You offered it, didn’t you?”

You try to crane your head toward him to catch his gaze, but it’s hidden by his hat. He’s too busy studying what’s in front of him. Your cunt is swollen, tingling for anything more than what he’s offering you.

“I did.” You’re breathless now, and there’s no use in hiding it. Fire licks your cheeks, desperation growing in your center and throbbing there. “I wanted you to touch me.” Your voice is air and desire. “Did you want to touch me, Bane?”

You feel him growl out the beginning of a response, but then his finger just barely brushes the seam of your pussy. In one simultaneous moment, Bane curses, and you gasp. You’re fucking drenched, slick and hot for him already. It takes no pressure–he gives a testing advance, and dips between your folds with vulgar ease.

“Fuck,” you whine, locking your muscles down against the overpowering urge to throw yourself into him.

For once, Cad Bane is completely silent. Slowly, devastatingly slowly, his finger begins to trail up and down. It teases close to your clit, then glides back towards your entrance, repeating in a cruel game of keep-away that has you panting within seconds. Your breath fogs the window, creating little patches of frosted city light with every huff of your chest.

His movements become experimental, lingering close to your clit when your whines grow louder, circling your entrance when it makes your spine arch. Finally, one finger settles and presses there, breaches you with a delicious little stretch and sinks to its root.

You moan, and your body clenches, trying to suck him in. A low sound catches in Bane’s throat behind you. His skin is smooth and cool, gradually absorbing your heat. He draws halfway out and sinks in again, pulling a gasp and another whine from your chest.

His grip on your neck tightens and he steps closer, wedges his boot between your feet to spread them, nearly edging you off-balance. Satisfied, he drags along your walls and pushes in again, exploring the ridges of your cunt with lewd, wet sounds. Something about the shape of his finger—bulbous at the tip, the slope of his knuckles—has your cunt aching, and you tighten around him, wanting every possible millimeter inside you.

Behind you, Bane inhales sharp air between his pointed teeth and drops your neck, knocks your feet wider, pressing into you. Harsh, cold metal prods you at your shoulders, hips, ribs, his now-free hand slipping into your dress and finding your breast with a gentle squeeze. You squirm in his hold with an elated squeal, and he grumbles, flicks over your nipple, his other hand still relishing the grip of your cunt.

You reach back, grapple his hips and pin his erection against your ass. Breath escapes him in a gravelly pant, and he grinds into you, seeking friction. Dizzy, you moan, melting in his arms. Lust has flooded your brain, numbed your mouth—you can think of nothing else you want than more, more of Cad Bane filling you, stretching you, fucking you dumb.

Like he senses it, Bane slows, adjusts, teasing your entrance with two fingers. A pathetic mewl echoes in the air, and he sinks into you.

On any other occasion, you would have been irritated that you'd been so easy to read. But on this one, you’re far too desperate for the cock of a killer to care.

Bane’s rhythm starts rough, driving and curling into your pussy like a greedy beast, forcing a sob from your chest. His other hand kneads and rolls your tit, tweaks your nipple with tiny shocks of pleasure, and his cock is gouging your flesh. Pure need thickens the air, and your eyes roll, warmth glowing in your belly, rushing your thighs, your clit throbbing, pleading for release.

The last thread of your sanity strings your hand between your legs, and the moment you graze the bundle of nerves, you collapse with bliss, crying out. Bane stiffens, keeping you on your feet while he stretches against the delighted flutter of your walls, his breath deep and heavy. You manage to stand, but the rest of you is lost—lost to anything but the swirl of your swollen clit, the thrust of his fingers inside your cunt.

“Yes,” you whisper, more praise than prayer. Pleasure builds fast, your fingers circling, your desperate, soaking cunt pulsing as you rise toward your peak. “Fuck, yes…”

Bane folds over you, his breath—dry and smoky, like burnt wood—in your ear. He growls, mumbles something under his breath, too garbled in his throat for you to understand. And then he abandons your breast, slaps away your busy fingers, his own replacing them with stone silk smoothness. He ghosts your clit once, twice, feels you milk his hand—then circles it with exquisite, liquid bliss.

Cold glass against your cheek is the only sensation still tethering you to reality. You begin to unfurl, the tight coil in your belly starting to pulse and spark. Your skin feels furnace-hot, trembling as Bane’s steady rhythm hurtles you towards a peak. If there was any hesitation to his movements before, it has disappeared entirely. He’s learning your body now, making millimeter adjustments–and then a wicked curve of his fingers hits a spot inside you that makes your vision go white.

“Oh, fuck!” Each of your breaths carries a musical little moan through the top octaves of your voice. “Don’t stop…”

A mechanical growl vibrates at your neck, and his mouth drops to your shoulder, fangs brushing the skin there. The sensation crackles through your nerves, a fracture thin enough to shatter you like a plasma bolt to glass. In that moment, you fall—your knees wobble, you clutch his arms, and you explode into red-foiled fragments.

Ecstasy ruptures through your veins, an overload that shorts every muscle but the ones wrapped around Bane’s fingers, constricting and trapping him inside while he massages your clit through another wave, and another. His teeth scrape over your skin with dull, distant pain—he curses into your neck until you wilt, spent, in his hold. The remnants of your orgasm peel to the ether, leaving you a throbbing, dripping, panting husk.

City lights swim slowly back into focus, edges softened through the smudged window. Bane’s chest swells against your back. He’s still rooted inside you, unmoving, and he lingers there for several long moments before finally beginning to draw out. You gasp at the drag along your sensitive walls, bracing your palms on the glass. When he emerges, he straightens, the arm bracing you upright sliding away and letting your weight settle on the balls of your feet again. But he doesn’t step away. You can still feel his erection like wrought steel against your ass.

Cheeks awash with the heat of climax, you study his faint reflection in the window. The hat brim is a gentle curve bisecting the city’s harsh lines, his gaze downcast—his fingers are still brushing your swollen cunt, coated in your cum. You can’t help but let out a tiny giggle. A laser-bolt stare pins your reflection.

“Tastes even better than it looks.” Tattered air drags through your voice, and you feel Bane’s hips twitch against you. His eyes narrow. When he speaks, it’s through locked teeth.

“Then who’m I to deny you?”

His hand snakes forward, and before you can blink, his fingers are pushing past your lips, hooking onto the flat of your tongue and spreading the sweet, sharp taste of your juices across your palate. You moan, louder than you intend, as you instinctively wrap around his knuckles and draw him further into your hot, soft mouth, massage your tongue along the unique curve of his digits.

Bane stuffs them deeper, tickles the back of your throat, and you fight the urge to gag. Eyes rolling, you grind against the hard desire digging into your flesh, hoping to infect Bane with the same passion that grips you now like a contagion. Drool sneaks from the side of your lips, and you whimper, tasting yourself between his fingers. You hum in satisfaction, meet his gaze in the window, sealing around him with a single firm suck.

His hips jerk. Grunting, he rips himself free of your mouth and grips your hips, spins you around to face the couch only to push you over one of the arms. You fold like a bad hand, ass pointed at the ceiling and face smashed against the plush cushion.

“Y’re a demon, girlie.”

Bane’s voice is shredded with lust, now. Behind you, his belt buckle releases with a soft metallic clink.

Blood floods your face and cunt with heat. You aren’t going to be the first or last woman fucked on this penthouse couch—but with any luck, you’ll be staining the fabric for months to come. You turn your face to the side and grin.

“What a fitting pair that makes us.”

He grunts, and you feel a firm head prod at your slit before slicking itself in your wetness. You hold your breath, bracing for his cock. When he pushes in, he forces it all from your chest. The stretch is an entirely new landscape—slippery ridges roll into you, stroke your walls in delicious interval—and on top of it, he’s big, thicker than a man of his frame has any business being. You whine, dig your nails into the couch, and Bane’s pelvis hits your ass.

The shape and sensation of his cock has you halfway wound, and you want him to spin you up and unspool you, want to be fucked oblivious. You tighten around his cock, feel it throb in kind. Drool fills your mouth. Anxious, you rock your hips back, goading him deeper. His eyes flash with a hesitant excitement and the corner of his lip curls, revealing a fang.

“Shoulda known you really wanted this,” growls Cad Bane. “You got a terrible Sabacc face.”

Stars, why can’t he just shut up and fuck you? It’s like there’s some tiny, invisible tether sustaining his resolve. Something ready to fracture under a pinpoint of perfectly-aimed pressure.

Fishing remnants of your intellect from the haze flooding your brain, you smile over your shoulder, gaze half-lidded. To anyone else, Bane might appear unreadable. But to you, an expert in catching millimeters of movement, in spying tells from species across the galaxy, his own has become clear.

“Mm, pardon my curiosity, mister Bane.” You rock forward and press back again, letting him feel your pussy split open again on his cock. “I’d always heard that bounty hunters were a terrible fuck.”

He snarls. Two strong hands encircle your thighs and jerk you back. He snaps into you. Your eyes find your brain, your body finds purgatory.

Bane exhales the fragments of his restraint, slides out, the ribbed surface of his cock earning little gasps from you with each dip before he pushes in again. Another groan, another thrust, and another, and another, and Bane is driving into you, shackling you in place with his fingers, your stattacoed pleasure blending into a long, laboring moan.

At this point, you’ve had a fair share of nun-human cocks inside of you. But there’s something about Bane’s—the shape, the girth, the slick, almost wet slip of his skin—that ignites a warm, addictive shiver through your thighs, makes your cunt spasm with every thrust. Behind you, he grunts, shifting over you to pump deeper, his breath rattled by that mechanical purr.

You scratch the couch, arching your back, rolling your hips to meet him in tandem. Under the broken melody of your pleasure, he fucks you with shameless, quickening percussion. Your clit tingles to life, saliva pooling in your cheeks and leaking to the couch. Bliss is sweeping you into a storm, unmooring you from reality, and you can do nothing more but plead to drown. Gasping, you bounce your ass against him, wanting, needing, begging for more.

And then his pace slows again, evading your desperate thrusts and drawing an utterly pathetic sound of protest from you.

“Oh, everything not going by your design, little lady?” Bane coos above you, before his hand bunches around the back of your dress, voice turning hard and cruel. “You ain’t had enough?”

He slams into you, forcing a scream, cut short as he yanks you toward him. The force rips the delicate fabric, pops the straps at your shoulders, and you collapse forward, smacking the cushions. Before you have a chance to mourn your dress, he pulls out, flipping you with surprising strength, and shoves you forward on the couch.

Mind in a spiral, you only have a split second to process the sight—Bane crosses and looms over you, his cock now swinging into full view. Each ridge is swollen and flushed green, lined at the base with nubs that leak a pearlescent substance. That same substance still coats your pussy, and when you swirl your clit with it, a strangely potent pulse of pleasure zips straight up your spine, making your head go fuzzy.

Bane grips his cock, slicks that substance from base to swollen tip with a hiss and lines it up with your entrance. Bracing himself, he pushes in, piercing you with a sharp thrust.

You cry out, suck in a shuddering moan while your core clenches in delight, all too happy to be fucked numb. Above you, Bane traps a groan in his throat, and you bite your lip. At some point, his hat fluttered to the floor.

Like this, you can hear every trip of his breath, watch his jaw lock with pleasure, smell the spice of danger laid into his skin. His hips piston, cock driving in again and again, stretching you deeper with each plunge. The storm has captured you, eradicated rationality. In its onslaught, you throw your arms around him. All you can do is want.

Bane snarls and pins your throat, forcing distance between you again. The pressure blurs your sight, thumps in your temple and mingles with the electric fuzz in your brain while he fucks into your cunt—a throttled gurgle escapes, the sensation of his cock, his pace, his presence more inebriating than any drink you’d been served. Your thighs tremble, your fingers curl, the heat in your belly blazes, tightens.

“Fuck yes,” you manage to sputter. “Bane—”

He squeezes your throat. “Quiet.”

Your jaw slackens, and you swallow your words, drool and primal noise filling the void. Under it, you can hear Bane’s voice crumbling into ragged, soft panting—he pounds you, his fangs bared, your bodies rocking the couch across the tile. Your clit is sensitive, aching, every smack of his hips coating your folds in his fluid and somehow driving you closer, closer to orgasm.

Stars, you want to cum on him, you want to grip and pulse around his length and milk him until he’s spent, you want him to ruin your pussy. There is no reality that exists to you without him, without his cock.

The hand at your throat squeezes again, shooting stars into your sight. You nod with a whine. He drives deep, his cock so swollen you feel the urgent throb of its ridges as they breach your cunt, the grating desperation leaving his chest—as if to urge you before him, he crushes your breath, hammering deep, hitting parts of you that explode behind your eyes.

A whine becomes a groan becomes a scream, pulsing heat subsumes you, and erupts in blinding white light. It pours out in strangled sobs from your chest, overflows your skin in currents of electric gooseflesh. All of you constricts, pulsing in powerful waves that can’t find a way to break. Bane is silent as you cum, his pace remarkably steady through the longest orgasm of your life—until you’re halfway cognizant, quaking in aftershocks and gaze fluttering open.

The pressure leaves your throat. You gulp in oxygen, vision still grey around the edges and skin still vibrating in time with your abused cunt. Your walls seize as Bane’s cock pulls out, leaving you vacant.

He is a cerulean shape in your periphery, moving—without a chance to recover, you find yourself yanked off of the couch by the back of your neck and shoved onto your knees.

Eyes hazy, you look up at Cad Bane standing above you. One hand grips his cock, pumping it millimeters from your face, the other still hooked around the back of your neck. Dazed and compliant, you default on instinct. Your mouth falls open, tongue laid over your bottom teeth and brows pinching together in a final, silent plea.

Red burns down on you, curses flying from between his locked teeth. Bane fucks his fist, his hips jerk forward, and with a mechanical roar, he cums.

It hits you across your nose, forehead and tongue. It’s not only the taste of it, it’s the texture—it’s slick, warm. That same static tingles your tastebuds. Groaning, your sight goes white, and you swirl it in your mouth, let it slither down your throat. Bane is motionless, panting, a study of a man gilded in satisfaction.

There’s a mirrored bliss roiling inside of you, too, fat with glee that you can say you’ve fucked one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy, that he split you open on his cock, that he smothered your face with cum.

Bane squeezes the last few beads from the tip, twitching in sensitivity, and smears them across your lips. His slit gaze maintains a shackle hold on yours, and you grin, slipping your sticky tongue out to gather every single drop. You swallow it and gasp, opening your mouth to show its cleanliness like it’s the climax of your performance.

But really, despite Bane’s suspicions, it’s entirely sincere. Unlike most of your encounters, you haven’t performed since he guided you to the lift.

Easing back onto your heels, Bane is silent, tucking himself away before grabbing his hat from the floor and dusting it clean. The casual whisk of his hand—the knowledge that it was just inside of you—is almost enough to make you see if you can convince him into another round. Catching a glimpse of yourself, you notice your tits hanging free, the sheen of sweat in the dim light, the errant remnants of cum adorning your skin.

Getting clean is your first priority.

“Mind if I use the refresher?” The answer doesn’t matter to you—you’re already slinking to your feet and letting the tatters of your dress fall like ribbons around your hips. Better to start early.

His laser stare pierces your back while you find the master suite, hesitating before you dip beyond the door. Maybe you’re toying with him, but you’re almost surprised when he doesn’t fight your violation of his privacy. Until you glance around the room and notice how large, how pristine, and how utterly empty it is of life.

No luggage, no belongings. The bed isn��t even touched.

Humming to yourself, you head to the refresher, skating your fingers along the cool chrome-lined counters. Grabbing one of the folded towels, you carefully dab it along the last bits of Bane’s cum, wiping the smudges of makeup that have pooled at the corners of your eyes. After all, if you’re going to try for round two…

The state of affairs: your hair is chaos, pressed to your skull in wild ways, your lips plump, face shimmering with a mixture of semen and perspiration. The evidence of Bane’s teeth throb at your shoulder, the evidence of his cock pulses between your legs. Your thighs still tremble, the flesh there buzzing from whatever magic his species deals in.

Spotting a cleanly folded robe, you grab it, tucking yourself into it and leaving it open at the chest. With each step, your tits jiggle and sway, enough exposed to entice the imagination. You’re not exactly sure what he finds most exciting about you, but you figure that betting on all of it won’t hurt.

After messing with your hair until it decides to cooperate, you glide back to the main room, still floating on the cloud of being fucked to an inch of your life by a killer.

Across the room, Bane is tapping his commlink, ending a call he’d apparently just been on. Without acknowledging you, or saying a word at all, he inventories his weapons and taps buttons on his bracer before heading toward the docked ship outside of the penthouse balcony. You frown.

All of that, and he won’t even notice how great your tits look in this robe?

You clear your throat. “Tapping out so soon, cowboy?”

Bane sniffs. “Got a job.”

You fight the urge to droop. You feel like a plucked porg.

“A job?” You gesture at the robe. “What am I supposed to do, then? I don’t exactly have any credits right now. Or clothes.”

That red laser gaze nails you a final time. The corner of his mouth is curled, you swear, in the smallest smirk.

“Ain’t you an artist?”

Two fingers brush the tip of his hat, the only farewell you receive before Bane heads toward the dock, hopping into the ship. A second passes before the engines whirr alive and the craft speeds off into the dark, busy night of Coruscant. You hold your breath until its lights melt into the city’s own starscape.

Lip twisting, you stare at your very still tits, surveying the empty penthouse suite. With an exhale, you sink into the couch, spying the puddle of drool you’d left on the other cushion. Your fingers drift absently between your legs, finding the remains of Bane’s secretions there. You drag a bit of the syrupy material over your abused clit, feeling the nerves inexplicably surge to life once again in pleasant tingles.

Whatever the fuck you’re supposed to do now, at least you have until the morning to figure it out. In the meantime, you’ll enjoy your accommodations.

And your own company.

#cad bane smut #cad bane x reader #cad bane #TO THE TWO PPL WHO READ THIS HOPE U LIKED IT <3 <3 <3 #cad bane fanfiction

[vioyume]

Sorry I'm just gonna ramble about the Nailmasters and Sly for a moment. I recently read some fics which has reignited my love for this game.

These are mostly unorganized thoughts.

It's been so long since I've played this game, but I remembered really liking them, and would sometimes visit them for fun. They were really nice to see in this dying world despite the strain in their relationship, it's funny too in a sad way because they're the only family that is left alive yet they're separated. Really hope that they make amends at somepoint after when the game ends. The only other few bugs who are left are the ones who reside in Dirtmouth and in Kingdom's Edge but those guys are in their own world.

How did the Nailsmith traverse that obstacle course near Sheo's home?? Asuming that the shortcut isn't a thing, even so how did he fit through that tiny gap jump that required a specific move??? Dude and Cornifer have secrets they're not sharing. (I died 100 times when I first did it)

Sheo/Nailsmith and Cornifer/Iselda makes me happy, I love finding the little bit of happiness in hopeless scenarios.

I like imagining Sly being a father to 3 children who grew practically four times the size he is. He needs a personal stool or jump on them if he needs to scold them. Nobody likes it when the fly pulls out the stool.

Thinking how his furniture was most likely him sized before meeting the kids and they either had to get new furniture or the brothers just grew used to using tiny tables and stuff.

Still never fought Sly though.

Mato was a surprise to see when I first met him, for a place that is supposedly secret without knowing, you think that he would be a boss and there's even a bench. But no he's there meditating. I go to him when Gorb gave me a tuff time.

Mato is great. :)

I don't go to Oro often since there's not much for me in that area, but I think he thinks lowly of the colosseum. Also seeing raining corpses is not a nice view, though I guess he grew desensitized to it.

Ghost makes the whole family feel a little bit of pain after showing off the nail arts and charm and they've learned from each of them. Glad to know that they're alive somewhere but it's been so long since they've seen each other. (but also there's still that tension between Mato and Oro)

Wondered what Sheo and Sly felt when that fight happened between the other brothers. Was Sheo already thinking about giving up the Nail, was the argument partly the reason? Or was it something he decided later on? I like to think Sly tried to reason with them (as well as Sheo) but whatever it was, it's clear that they should not be involved.

Uh I'm done now, but I want to share the fics I've read.

Tales of a Nailsage

Tales of a Sage

Ticky Wicky

Funeral Plinth

Mind's Creation

Oro and Mato are Dumbasses (I like a nice silly fic once in a while)

#I had a rough day #the bug games amuses me #hollow knight #nailmaster mato #nailmaster oro #paintmaster sheo #great nailsage sly #vio.txt #rambles

[one-idea]

I love the ASL brothers and really want them to be raised by Shanks.

I have an idea but I have to put a few events out of order.

So let’s get into it

We start fairly close to cannon with Shanks’ time on Foosha. He meets Luffy and he loves this kid. It’s the reason they keep coming back to the island in the first place.

Now this is where we are going to start rearranging somethings. Because Shanks and Higuma confrontation happens before Shanks has found the Gomu Gomu no Mi. Mean Luffy doesn’t eat the devil fruit (yet) Luffy gets mad at Shanks for not defending himself against the mountain bandit and runs off. Shanks follows him wanting to explain to the boy why. (Some fights you win by not fighting at all)

It’s here that he learns a hard truth about Luffy. Because Luffy runs home. Where he lives alone in a little shack. At first Shanks in confused, he thought Luffy lived with Makino. But Luffy can’t stay with her full time. She’s not his guardian and doesn’t have the money to care for him. She help him and cares for him when she can but most of the time Luffy is alone. The exception is when his grandfather is in town and is training him by: throwing him down ravines, dropping him in the middle of the jungle, tying him to balloons.

Shanks is horrified. Growing up on the Oro Jackson wasn’t easy. He saw a lot of horrible things when he was too young to process them. But he never doubted he was loved. And here Luffy is, a boy he’s come to love as his own sobbing because “nothing is worse than being alone.”

But Luffy looks at him with determination and says “that why I’m going to be king of the pirates one day because my Namaka will never leave me.” And Shanks knows two things. One Luffy is going to be the king of the pirates. There is not a doubt in his mind that Luffy is the person his captain was waiting for. Luffy is going to change the world when the boy sets out on his own. The second thing is that he won’t leave this little boy, who is walking sunshine, feel unloved or unwanted ever again.

Shanks hugs Luffy close and tells him he knows that Luffy is going to become the king of the pirates but before he can do that he needs so experience on the seas. How does the little anchor feel about join his crew? Luffy is ecstatic! He’s wanted this for so long and now Shanks is letting him on his crew.

But Shanks knows there is still one thing he needs to get before he can take Luffy with him. After all he came to the East Blue in search for one thing, the Gomu Gomu no Mi. He has to find that first. Once he has it he can head back to the New World. If he takes Luffy with him now then they could easily be track down in the East Blue by Luffy’s grandfather.

So he takes his hat off and places it on Luffy’s head telling him, “this hat is my treasure. There is one thing I need to find here in the East Blue before we can set sail for the Grandline. Can you watch over my hat while I find it? It shouldn’t take me more than five months. Then I’ll come back for you and we will set sail to the grandline together.”

Luffy looks up at him with such hopeful eyes “you promise?”

“Of course! I can’t go back to the Grandline without my hat. I’ll just have to bring along the little anchor wearing it.” Shanks tries for joking but ends up sounding way more fond and sentimental.

He cares Luffy back to Makino’s bar, watching as his boy falls asleep in his arms. Once there he explains their new situation to the crew. He then turns to Makino and as he closes the tab for the crew he also gives her more then enough money to take care of her AND Luffy for the next five months. Asking her to watch over his boy for him until he returns. Makino is torn because on one hand should she really be letting Luffy travel with these pirates? But at the same time she’s never seen the little boy be as happy as he is when he’s with Shanks and the crew. So she agrees.

In the morning Shanks leaves after explaining to Luffy he will be staying with Makino until his return.

Well not all plans go according to plan. Especially when Garp returns to see his grandson wearing Roger/Shanks hat and talking about sailing with Shanks’ crew.

That’s a big no for Garp. So he takes Luffy away from Makino and delivers him to Dadan. Strapping a sea stone cuff to his wrist (trying to dampen the boys haki signature so Shanks can’t find him) (yes I know cannon doesn’t full support this but it also doesn’t full disprove it so we’re playing fast and lose today)

This is where he meets Ace and Sabo.

It goes much like it does in cannon. With the two older boys not liking Luffy very much until after Porchemy kidnappes Luffy and beats him. The beating is far more brutal this time around as Luffy has not consumed his devil fruit yet.

The three boys become sworn brothers over shake. And start to bond. Until a few months later when Shanks returns to the island.

He is worried when he can’t feel Luffy while approaching the island. His panic growing as they get closer and closer and there is no sight of their anchor on the dock there to greet them. Shanks hurries to Makino’s bar only to be met by her sad eyes and tearful explanations. She hasn’t seen Luffy for months since Garp took him from her. She’s not even sure if he’s on the island or not at this point.

Shanks and the crew spread out. They’re going to search the whole island. If Luffy is here then they will find him. Shanks heads up the mountain, looking for his boy, he’s stretched out his observation Haki as far as it can go. He notices something strange. The signatures of two young boys but it seems as though they are making room for a third. A third that Shanks can’t sense.

Shanks is heading that way, hoping it’s Luffy. Hoping he’s not crazy. As he’s getting closer he can sense more signatures surrounding the young boys. And whether or not Luffy is with them it would seems these boys are in over their heads. He arrives right as the bluejam pirates are beating Luffy and Ace, while Sabo is dangling in Bluejam’s grasp. To say he is not a happy camper is an understatement.

Shanks moves fast get in between Luffy and Ace and their attackers. The three of them are surrounded but it doesn’t matter much to Shanks, everyone here is far weaker than he is.

The pirates are confused and Outlook III is telling this obviously homeless man to move along as he has no business here. Shanks ignores them and turns to Luffy. “Anchor what’s happening.” “They’re trying to take Sabo from us.”

Shanks doesn’t know who Sabo is or why these full grown adults are beating up his kid and his friends but frankly he doesn’t care. They were dead the moment he saw them hit Luffy. But to hear his son, who has extreme separation problems, crying because adults were taking away his friend. He’s going to drag this out a bit.

A quick blast of conquers haki has all the pirates and the sniveling noble down for the count. He’ll send some crew members out here to have some fun with them later, when three small children aren’t watching the pain he’s willing to put them through for touching his boy.

Sabo’s been dropped to the ground and Ace and Luffy have run to greet him. Luffy’s about squeezing the life out of the poor boy, but Ace stops and puts himself between the stranger and his brothers. Nothing is hurting his brothers, not even this weirdly powerful man.

But Shanks just smiles at him as Ace starts to grandstand. Asking the stranger who he was? What he was doing here? Questions and accusations flying from the angry boy’s mouth. But Shanks just laughs and looks over Ace’s shoulder and asked. “Come on Anchor don’t I get a hug?”

Ace is confused until Luffy rushes past him and throws himself at the stranger. Shanks just laughs as he catches the little boy and holds him tight before pulling back to look him over. He quickly spots the sea stone cuff and asks Luffy about it. Only to learn that his grandfather was behind the gift. A gift Shanks will be removing as quickly and safely as possible. Setting the boy down and drawling his sword.

The whole time Ace and Sabo are trying to figure out who this strange adult is. At least they were until he put Luffy down and drew his sword telling Luffy to hold his arm out and keep it still. The little dumby even does as he asks. The two brothers scream and rush forward to stop this stranger from cutting off their idiot little brothers arm, but they don’t make it in time.

Meanwhile Shanks, unaware or uncaring of the panic he is causing in the other boys, taps his blade against Luffy’s cuff cutting the thing off his wrist. Luffy giggles and thanks him just in time for Ace and Sabo to make it to him and inspect his wrist for damages, there are none. But Ace and Sabo are not impressed with this stranger.

Shanks just laughs and starts leading the boys back to the Red force. They’re hurt and he wants Hango to look after them as soon as possible. Ace doesn’t want to go. But there’s a promise of a doctor for his brothers. And Luffy is going whether Ace’s wants him to or not. So they head down.

This is the start of my idea. The next part is Ace and his extreme dislike of Shanks

He’s going to take Luffy way. (He learns about their promise and is furious that this man is going to take one of his brothers)

Luffy eats the Gomu Gomu no Mi and loses his ability to swim and Ace blames Shanks

That mountain bandit that shanks made mad the last time he was here is back and wants revenge. Mainly Luffy shaped revenge.

Next

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #fire fist ace #one piece ace #portagas d. ace #gol d. ace #revolutionary sabo #one piece sabo #sabo #asl brothers #asl trio #shanks #red hair shanks #shanks is Luffy’s dad okay. #I just want to see him raise ASL #this idea has been bopping around for three weeks now.

[wordy-little-witch]

Regressed Buggy entertaining himself with tying ropes for hours on end.

Regressor Buggy wanting to play POKER of all things with Crocodile, because that was the first card game he learned on the Oro Jackson. Crocodile denies, not because Buggy cheats (which Buggy claims isn’t even really cheating, because back then all of the crew had at least one card stacked away in their sleeve), but because he’s a sore loser and he doesn’t need the brat throwing a temper tantrum near him. Regressor Buggy who crosses his arms at this and pouts, but who’s heart flutters at being called a brat of all things, because he grew up around men who would call him and Shanks „little bastards“,„you two little shitheads“ or „you snotty brats“ affectionately a million times before they ever uttered a „sweetheart“ to them (He likes those too tough.)

Regressor Buggy who hums the filthiest sea shanty’s you ever heard to himself while playing but doesn’t know a single children’s nursery rhyme of the top of his head. He has to think real hard before he even remembers twinkle twinkle little star.

Regressor Buggy who positively beams with joy when Mihawk gifts him a butterfly knife. He has always been good with knives and throwing knives is one of his favorite things to do even when not regressed and he actually did practice with Balisongs before specializing more on those. He runs up to Mihawk excitedly to show him how good he’s gotten, letting the knives twirl around his fingers with ease, not even close to nicking his skin and his Chop Chop Powers having to activate. Mihawk graces him with a nod of acknowledgment and Buggy rides that high for hours.

Just…. Regressor Buggy and his extremely dangerous and unchildlike favorite activities to do when he feels teeny

YESYESYES I LOVE YOU

Absolutely, Buggy has the least child friendly hobbies even little, especially little, like this boy has no filter. Ironically, he swears less when he's Big. When he's little, he swears like the sailor he is, the sailor he was raised as, and the first time someone tries - futile though it winds up being - to correct it, he's just. Bamboozled. And also angry. But mostly confused.

He plays knife games, he loves knots, the closest he has to a "typical" toy/activity is building.

When he was little, he and Shanks had a set of blocks. They shared them, Roger carved them, and Buggy had this one block in particular that he got attached to. He still had the block, and it's about the size of the palm of his hand now, the paint has been worn out, the edges smoothed and dented and chipped. He keeps it in a box of precious keepsakes.

Buggy's more used to rough and tumble men and Crocodile being a little more firm is the most familiar to him. He gravitates to Croc specifically for that, the size difference, and the logia user's propensity to just scuffing him like a kitten with his hook ((the first time Croc does it while Buggy is regressed, the little clown giggled hysterically, kicking his feet, and Crocodile had to take a moment to process that)).

Buggy's also used to level headed, chilly distance, and so Mihawk also hits all those points. He's whine and complain and throw a tantrum, but Mihawk's steady response helps him process things. His emotional regulation is in the trenches, he has big feels that he can't handle on his own, but Hawkeye's calm collectedness gives him something to grasp onto even in the worst of his explosions.

They're the perfect mix of familiar/safe and new/supportive.

Buggy has a plethora of things that aren't healthy, things instilled from a young age and things he acquired in response to other things. Buggy copes as best he can with things, but having a safety net helps in ways he never really anticipated.

The turn around of distrust and paranoia to him finally feeling secure and safe is rocky, but once it's done, he's doing better than he has in ages.

#thank you so much i love thisss #agere buggy #little buggy #pirates and parents are not cohesive synonyms no offense meant #roger did his best i don't doubt that but yeesh #cross guild poly #people are more than welcome to send asks about this or anything else i loveeee

[ideas-4-stories]

Lullabies of a Baby Blue Bug

Chapter 2: Song of the Sea, the fic is here and five chapters are out right now on Ao3. There's Part 1 on Tumblr

______________________________________________________________

"Rouge... Why didn't you turn in Captain?" The red-haired kid asked, tilting his head a little to the side. He looks up to the woman he is sitting next to, with pure curiosity in his eyes. The said woman tensed up from not expecting the question. "What do you mean... Shanks?" The strawberry blonde asks carefully, eyeing the young child wearily. After all, this isn't any normal child, this is one of the youngest pirates she has ever met.

She still couldn’t believe that reckless bastard actually took children aboard Oro Jackson. Never really understood that crazy man's antics, but this destroyed her knowledge of his insanity. The woman laughed at the thought of him having children on a boat filled with some of the most wanted people in the world. She was speechless when she found out what he said was true, she wasn't a person that should be concerned by children. But a pirate ship isn’t place for children, even though these two are not normal in any sense from what she has seen…

"He means, why didn't you turn in Captain when you whipped his ass in that fight. Why didn't Rayleigh or anyone do anything about it?'' The bluenette in the background is quick to step into the conversation, interrupting what Shanks is about to say. Earning a glare from the red-haired child. Paying no mind to his Nakama the bluenette donning the same level of curiosity as the other as he looks up to the woman.

"Buugggyyy, I was goanna say that!" Whines Shanks, having a big pout on his face and had crossed his arms. This makes Buggy roll his eyes at the red-haired boy, with a scowl etched on his face. Shooting one of the nastiest glares she had ever seen at the other one, which in turn made the red-haired clamp his mouth close and look away faster than she ever saw him do.

If Rouge didn't get out of this quickly, things would get even more awkward than it has already. There were so many questions that she could see the gears turning in their eyes as both turned to look at her again. The strawberry blonde must think of something fast to escape this awkward situation. The woman's eyes zeroed onto the sky, setting down her teacup and scooting out of her chair. Feigning shock and distress the best she could, "Shit, it's getting late. When do you two go to bed?" Trying just to redirect the conversion to something that wasn't about the reason she wouldn't turn in Roger. Personality Rouge doesn't want to think about why that is...

"Oh, we sleep whenever we want to!" Shanks says with a lopsided grin, as Buggy nods at the redhead. Oh, for the love of the seas and all that is scared, that's just fantastic, the woman thought grumpily. Noting when Roger comes back, she would kick his ass some more than she had already planned. Dropping these kids after she whipped his ass, saying it was for them to be "normal" children for once. Rogue gives a heavy sigh and sits on her hip. As the other was placed on her head,

"Well, that's not goanna work here. So, it's bedtime and what needs to be done for you to sleep?" All it took was one glance between Shank and Buggy for them to decide what needed to be done. So, they right back to the strawberry blonde with giant grins on their faces.

Rouge swears to whatever is up there, watching this shitshow of a world, that she would strangle Roger. Because this telepathy-ness that his youngest members have with each other isn't amusing nor interesting anymore. The blonde woman had already intersected in a fight between the rascals that seemed to have no reason it should have happened. Yet, they yelled at each other like they had the most dramatic argument ever.

"Lullabies!" The children shrieked at once, causing Rouge to wince in pain. "What?" The woman looks down at the youngsters, seeing their eyes filled with determination to get what they want. A determination that she has really only seen coming from that bubbly and ebullient buffoon of a captain... For Davy Jones' Sake! "...Okay"

🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣 🙡🙣🙡🙣

"Are you sure that you are going to sleep with a lullaby?" Rouge looks down at the duo, who are snugly tucked in the futon. Both of them nod their heads in sync with one another, eyes filled with anticipation of what is to come. Rouge couldn't believe that it would be this easy and simplistic thing that they would need to fall asleep. The woman shakes her head, sighing to herself to stop thinking of them as if they're not children. Even if they are pirates, they are still young children. Taking a deep breath she starts a lullaby from her childhood, one that she knew by heart.

Hush now, Mo Stóirín ~~~ Close your eyes and sleep~~~ Waltzing the waves~~~ Diving in the deep~~~

Stars are shining bright~~~ The wind is on the rise~~~ Whispering words~~~ Of long-lost lullabies~~~

A lullaby that was sung to Rouge by her mother when she was young. A song that has been in her mother's family for a very long time. She never thought she would be singing it to another person, but here she is. Singing to the youngest members of the Roger Pirates, who have some of the most feared pirates in the world aboard their ship. Yeah, not the way the strawberry blonde thought she would be singing her family’s lullaby. She couldn’t believe that the lullaby was the reason these two rascals were dropped off. Roger seemingly told them that she had a special lullaby passed down for ages and Buggy wanted to hear it. For all the Blue Seas!

Oh, won't you come with me?~~~ Where the moon is made of gold~~~ And in the morning sun~~~ We'll be sailing~~~

Oh, won't you come with me?~~~ Where the ocean meets the sky~~~ And as the clouds roll by~~~ We'll sing the song of the sea~~~

It’s clear as day that these two have Roger wrapped around their fingers. Anyone with a lick of sense would see that... But that seems that’s a rarity, somehow. With that thought the strawberry blonde rolls her eyes, for how dangerous this world is. Rouge thinks that more people would have more common sense. But most people she has seen with that are innocent civilians wanting to stay out of the way of pirates, marines, and anyone else that gives them problems.

Out of nowhere Shanks gives a loud snore, startling the woman from the lullaby. That pissed off Buggy, who rolled his eyes and shoved the kid that was next to him. Which did nothing as the redhead didn’t budge and snuggled closer to the bluenette. Rouge stiffs a chuckle at Buggy when he gives a pout because she has to stop the annoyed child from bonking the other one upside the head. Shaking her head, starting right back up from where she stopped.

I had a dream last night~~~ And heard the sweetest sound~~~ I saw a great white light~~~ And dancers in the round~~~

Castles in the sand~~~ Cradles in the trees~~~ Don't cry, I'll see you by and by~~~

Oh, won't you come with me~~~ Where the moon is made of gold~~~ And in the morning sun~~~ We'll be sailing~~~

Gently brushing the bluenette’s hair out of his eyes as he grudgingly cuddles closer to the kid beside him, the woman sighed in defeat knowing that she couldn’t ever take these two away from the Roger Pirates. She knows a lot about their captain. She knows that he would never let her or anyone else take them away from him, as long as he is breathing. Though she knows a pirate ship isn’t a place for children, Rouge thinks that if there was any pirate ship a child or children would be safest on. That would be Oro Jackson, the home of the Roger Pirates... Well, the Oro Jackson and the Moby Dick with Whitebeard and his crew.

Oh, won't you come with me~~~ Where the ocean meets the sky~~~ And as the clouds roll by~~~ We'll sing the song of the sea~~~

Rolling... Rolling~~~ Rolling... Rolling~~~

Oh, won't you come with me?~~~ Where the moon is made of gold~~~ And in the morning sun~~~ We'll be sailing free~~~

The bluenette was trying to fight off to sleep, struggling to hear the ending. The strawberry blonde woman knew more how much they fight and scream at each other. Only something truly bad would separate them. No matter how many times the bluenette left, he would always come back. Just needed a break to clear his thoughts so he could come back with a plan. Though that usually ends with Buggy bonking Shanks over the head and yelling at him. Saying that he should listen to him, though only half the things they get in trouble for is the redhead's fault.

Oh, won't you come with me~~~ Where the ocean meets the sky~~~ And as the clouds roll by~~~ We'll sing the song of the sea~~~

Grá go deo~~~~~~

As she finished the song, she watches as the bluenette finally let sleep take him from the awaking world. She couldn’t help but smile as both settled closer to each other, with content smiles on their faces. Drifting further into slumber as they start to dream whatever they love the most in world... Hopefully that is the case, the woman thought as she tucks them in some more. Rouge couldn’t help but to sigh at the predicament she found herself in. Afterall, seeing how much Roger was wrapped around their fingers. She doubts she could take them away from the ship the children call home. Even though a pirate ship isn’t a place for children.

Leaning a bit in, kissing them on the foreheads, the strawberry blonde whispers, "Sweet dreams, you two little rascals. May they be filled with only happiness." That's all she could do for them.

#first fic #one piece #one piece fanfic #buggy-centric #buggy the clown #buggy the star clown #buggy the bombastic clown #buggy the genius jester #buggy the flashy fool #buggy #roger pirates #gol d. roger #platinum rendell #portgas d. rouge #maria? #still working on buggy's mother's name #ideas~4~stories says

[ashcoveredtraveler]

A ship that I have drawn about but haven't really gone into depth in this AU is Mallow, Markoth, and Hollow Knight/Pure Vessel(thanks to @sumtoinfinity for giving me that ship name, it is absolutely adorable).

I have written their interactions in my other project, Could We Have Peace? but I barely touched on their relationships for this AU. I have only made drawings and mentioned they were a couple in Bugs That Warm Up Five Cold Days, which was a short fic I made for the AU.

But first, let me go over some parts of the AU as there aren't many scenarios in which these characters would even meet.

(Also sorry, but this is longer then I intended it to be)

So the infection happens, not so great. The Pale King enacts the vessel plan, also not so great.

He enacted this plan before the infection became worrisome. This way the vessel can grow to prime form just in time to seal the infection. He knew that void could seal the radiance, however, he didn't know the powers that she had. So over after the Vessel was more than halfway grown, he requested the assistance of the moth tribe. The appointed Seer and her son end up going to the Palace as they are the two most knowledgeable bugs that know what the Radience is capable of.

So one of the things that I questioned was the timeline and how much of an age difference there was between the two. I don't think Markoth is actually that old, he just acts a lot older.

For some age references for the AU, the Nail Master(Oro, Mato, and Sheo ) were barely in their tweens when the Pure Vessel ascended out of the abyss, and Markoth was just a young child. Markoth is younger than the Nail Masters. I don't think how we count time is the same way they were, but if I were to give an age ratio I would say that PV would be 21 and Markoth would be 25 around the time PV is revealed to be impure. Now I made a fic called Almost Like a Statue which isn't part of the AU but kinda of gives an outline of the timeline and the only difference between the AU and the story is the very last scene.

Anyways the vessel is revealed to be impure and a new plan needs to be made. Both Markoth and his mother end up getting invited to the Palace to discuss the Radiance even more. Eventually, after a month after the vessel is revealed to be impure, he finally sees them again, looking just upset as their hands are doing controlled motions.

Markoth approaches them and they are immediately taken aback as ever since their reveal nobody even looked in their direction as they don't have a purpose anymore. He tried to talk to them commented on their hand motion and realized it kinda looks like sign language. At that point, the vessel signed hello to Markoth and tried to start a conversation in poor sign language. Even though they were poorly signing, Markoth understood what they were trying to say and responded back, also signing to them.

Eventually, they had to get paper as the Pure Vessel only knew basic sign language and they only started learning sign language. They explained how they are trying to learn but everyone simply wants them to write what they want to say instead of everyone learning sign language to just speak with one bug. The drawing of this interaction here,

Now every time Markoth visits the Palace, he talks to the vessel and practice sign language with them. They started interacting more and slowly started to become good friends. Earlier on in their friendship, there were already bugs restricting their interaction, and it was the White Lady.

In the post I made about the WL and PK, I explained how WL wished she could have a do-over with a younger kid so she could mold them to her liking. She however is still trying to do this with the Pure Vessel, trying to pick a name for them, making them attend tea time with other nobles so they can be cultured. Of course, she didn't want this commoner to hang out with her child whom she practically neglected. PK was a bit off-put as moths are more likely to get infected and PK is also sealing away the moth's old god. He only made a comment that they should attend the city party and ball to find more suitable friends while WL tried to fill up their schedule with pointless parties with fake friends.

Eventually, the Vessel named themselves Howl, and their and Markoth's relationship grew. He eventually started gifting them stuff like chocolate and small trinkets from the outside world while Howl was able to get him books as that was one the few things that Howl could sneakily get.

Howl's self-image and mental health improved and eventually, The Great Knights started interacting with them. The five always looked after them from afar after their reveal, trying to make WL and PK act like real parents. However, the reason why they started interacting with Howl is because of Xero.

I mentioned this in The Knight's backstory along with The Great Knights' backstories, but Xero ended up getting recruited and trained as a Great Knight after stopping traffickers. He had heard about Howl from Markoth and decided to start talking to them. The Great Knight saw how interactions positively affected the vessel, and soon started interacting with them.

Howl and Markoth continued to hang out and started to get attached to each other. Markoth liked the wonder, curiosity, and kindness that Howl seemed to embody. While Howl liked the adventurous, patient, and understanding nature he had.

Both started catching feelings for each other. Markoth however pushed these feelings aside as he still held guilt for being a willing accomplice to seal them away. He knew what would have happened to their body, he buried enough infected corpses. Besides, why would Howl even like him?

Howl wasn't quite aware of what feelings they held for Markoth, but others around them could tell how much Markoth meant to them. Some of the knights became worried that if Wl or PK found out, then they might just try and shut off Howl from the rest of the world and try and continue to mold them to their liking.

At some point despite the infection, a festival was happening in Dirtmouth. Markoth decided to invite them and the two of them went to the festival with no issue. PK did give his permission and the knights convinced him to let them go as the infection lessened for a bit, and Howl could defend themselves.

The two went out and just had a joyful time. There was no stress and it was the most fun they had in a while. Fireworks were happening later in the night and the two of them went to a semi-secluded section to watch the fireworks.

While alone, both parties made comments that were more friendly than normal, more romantic comments. The area they was very dark, so both of them couldn't see each other. So when Howl moved their shell to Markoth, they accidentally placed their mouth on his.

They were both in shock. Embarrassment corsed through their body and what was even more embarrassing was that they weren't pulling away. They were both still until Markoth pressed lips a bit more, and soon enough they both reciprocated the affection.

Once they stopped Markoth immediately apologized, saying he shouldn't have done that. However, Howl stopped him, realizing what their feelings were.

They both agreed to give out this relationship a secret as if it gets out, it will be bad for both of them. The bugs who knew they were in a relationship was The Seer, because she supported the relationship and would have found out one way or another, and the two of the Great Knights, Ze'mer and Hegemol since they know how to hide a relationship as they both date political figures.

To most of the bugs, they were still friends, while to a few others they were testing out their relationship, while to both of them just fell harder for each other.

They dated for a few months, secretly writing each other notes and going on secret dates with the help of the two knights who made sure that WL or PK wouldn't try to look for them when they were out.

However, one of these letters was misplaced and somehow was placed on PK's desk. Thinking it was from some of the retainers, WL and PK opened up and they were immediately angry and requested to 'speak' with Howl.

PK and WL's lecture ended up being the both of them berating Howl for courting Markoth. PK is angry since Markoth is a moth and directly related to the Radience while WL classism starts showing up and tries to get them a suitable bug for them. The Knights came in and calmed the situation.

PK ended up banning Markoth from the Palace for a short time before realizing that he is still needed to give information on the Radience. But his time at the Palace was severely limited, only being there to give information and get out.

But something happened that caused PK and WL's demeanor to change as it was revealed that The Seer ended up adopting a child, unknowingly adopting a vessel instead.

I already mentioned Ghost's backstory earlier, and the general summary is that Xero saved them and got adopted by the Moth family. Pk, desperately trying to get any sort of vessel living in his house is trying to get Ghost to live in the Palace, with none of the parties budging.

Howls and Markoth's relationship slightly changes as he almost sees Ghost as a little sibling that was frozen as a child till now and he has been dating their twin. However, Ghost didn't mind their relationship as they saw how happy it made both of them.

So this is how the first part of their relationship went. PK and WL were not big fans at all while some others saw how beneficial the two are for each other.

#hollow knight #split family au #hk mallow #hk markoth #hollow knight markoth #hk hollow knight #hk pv #hollow knight pure vessel

[charkyzombicorn]

Here’s a thought I had. An au where Shanks goes around giving Buggy’s snail number out to people. The reasons? 1. To be an asshole because it’s funny. 2. Maybe it will help Buggy with his issues somehow?

Luffy gets the number and while he does somehow memorize instantly, it never occurs to him to use it, although he did teach his brothers about the super cool number Shanks left.

Yassop leaves Brachina the number, but it’s Usopp who actually uses it years later, trying to find his dad so Yassop will come home and help Brachina.

Instead he gets a very confused clown pirate, wondering how this little boy got his number.

Buggy is so fucking annoyed. His snail phone is exhausted from being called so much. He wants to rest but children keep calling him in the phone and then saying the most gut-wrenching stories with the same tone they would use to comment on the sky being blue.

First it was Luffy, who said his name, that he was going to be king of the pirates (Brat) and that he had two new brothers and he wanted to tell everyone because he finally wasn't alone (and No it didn't remind Buggy of himself before Shanks and the Oro Jackson, Fuck Off).

Then it was Usopp who declared himself the bravest warrior of the sea because he didn't shed a single tear when his mother died, and hasn't since and now he's super strong because he has to do odd jobs to feed himself now. So Buggy, clown that he is, decided to visit - only for that douche Kuro to stop him by starting shit and almost sinking his ship. Buggy wanted to punch his glasses into his face but he was fighting for his right to visit some random snotnosed brat that got his number. So he left.

Then some brat named Ace called him, and asked what he would think if the pirate king had a son. So Buggy was completely honest, because that was a very strange and very specific question and he was still tired from helping patch the ship. "Roger did have kids - two of em', got one in a treasure chest and the other from a dumpster. But of course he gave the first kid his life's treasure and the second kid a mop. If he had a third kid I'd just hope they were born on neutral ground so they could see to their own future and not the one that asshat forced on them. Now Where Do You Kids Keep Getting My Number". But the line was silent, and a few seconds later went dead.

Then he got Another call from Another child, this one called Sabo. He said he knew Buggy was a pirate, said he could be a choreboy, a navigator and a fighter on Buggy's crew for the small price of Getting Him Out Of Goa. Buggy said he didn't want a toddler on his ship, "Sabo" insisted that he was 15 (not even a chance), and he could pay Buggy - 50 thousand for a spot on his ship. Buggy was definitely one for bribery, but he accepted such a low offer because the kid seemed desperate and people have good reasons to need to leave a place like Goa. So he shipped off, made it to port the next day and then promptly shattered himself into bits when he saw the celestial dragon ship in the distance. Then a blonde brat with neat clothes, a rucksack and a purposefully mean-looking glare said he was Sabo and that he wouldn't give the money until he was on the ship.

Buggy told him to go fuck himself, they were hiding the ship and praying the celestial dragon left without calling a buster call. Then his snail rang. Again. He ordered his crew hide the ship nearer the mountain before picking up the phone. It was Luffy again. "Listen, Luffy, calling me twice a week to tell me about your--" Luffy was crying.

"There was a fire. Sabo's gone. Ace hasn't woken up since the fire. What do I do? I can't lose my brother's they're all I have--" Buggy got the snail phone smacked out of his hand by a metal pipe and he yelped while Sabo was already curled around it with both hands on the receiver like it could break.

"Luffy?" And the mean face was gone, and he was definitely 10-ish. "Luffy, what happened to Ace--"

"SABO!!!!" The snail yelled so loud Buggy could tell its throat hurt. "You're with Shanks' mystery friend! You're okay! You need to come back, I went into the fire and so did Ace and Ace got hurt protecting me and we need you back I'm sorry if I'm why you left--"

The blonde kid was crying. Buggy wasn't known for his skill with children, so he just stood there. "Okay - I'm coming home, okay? I'm not leaving, I promise. Just - just watch over Ace until I get there, okay?"

"Yeah!"

Sabo hung up the the phone and looked back up at Buggy. "Change of plans." He said, after trying and failing to wipe his tears.

"Oh no shit." Buggy mocked. "Go home, kid."

Sabo nodded, but then hesitated. "You know Shanks, right?"

Buggy couldn't help the sneer - not that he wanted to.

"Shanks gave his arm to save my little brother's life. I owe him a debt, but. Thank you for helping a stranger." He put his little hand out as if Buggy wanted to shake sticky toddler hands.

Buggy flicked him. "You're just lucky Luffy's my biggest fan, or you'd be scrubbing the floors, brat."

#one piece #Sorry this took so long to answer! My drafts are. Something