#wire x reader

“Three on the catwalk,” Wire says, even-toned.  

Heat’s gone before the sentence ends. You cover him. You pivot, catching the fourth enemy trying to flank, then snap your wrist and send a blade spinning upward. It forces the men above to scatter. 

Heat hits the catwalk hard, metal screaming under his weight. “Showtime!” 

Gunfire erupts. You step back without looking because you know Wire is there. A bullet sparks off the floor where your foot had been. Wire’s voice doesn’t rise. “Shift right.” 

You do. A wire snaps tight across the space you’d occupied seconds ago. Heat whoops in approval from above. “Nice one!” 

The fight fractures into noise and motion, smoke blooms, and someone screams. You lose track of time the way you always do, everything narrowing to instinct and rhythm. 

A hand grabs your collar. You react instantly, twisting, blade flashing, only to stop short as Heat barrels into the man from the side, driving him into a stack of crates hard enough to splinter them. 

Heat grins down at you. “Got you.” 

You’re already moving past him. “Didn’t need it.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Wire fires twice, clean and precise. Two bodies drop. He steps forward just enough to put himself between you and the remaining shooters. 

One gets a lucky angle. You see the muzzle flash. You don’t have time to shout. Heat takes the hit instead, shoulder jerking back with a hissed curse. You’re on the shooter before Heat finishes stumbling, blade at his throat, fishing him off.  

“Clear,” Wire says. 

Silence crashes down. 

Heat flexes his shoulder, scowling. “Damn it.” 

You’re at his side immediately. Wire is there too, hands already moving, assessing. “Not deep,” Wire says. 

Heat waves him off. “Barely felt it.” 

You press a hand to the wound anyway. Heat stills without comment, letting you. Wire keeps watch, eyes scanning the exits, body angled just enough to shield both of you. 

Footsteps echo somewhere far off, retreating. Only when they fade does Wire relax. “Move,” he says. 

Heat slings an arm around your shoulders as you walk, leaning on you for support. Wire falls into step on your other side, pace adjusted so the formation doesn’t break. Outside, the night air hits cold and clean. Heat finally drops his arm, rolling his shoulder and stretching like nothing happened. 

Across the street, another newer member of the crew watches you with open curiosity. “Not gonna lie,” they say, tilting their head. “That coordination? That’s not just work.” 

Heat snorts. “You see coordination. I see talent.” Wire doesn’t say anything. He’s already scanning the street, eyes flicking briefly to you before moving on. You shrug, giving a small nod, and start walking again. They fall in beside you without being told. 

The Victoria Punk hums beneath your feet as you step back aboard, metal familiar and grounding after the chaos onshore. Heat drops onto a crate with a heavy exhale. “Man, I hate getting shot.” 

“You love getting shot,” you say, already setting your gear down. 

“Yeah, but I hate the part after.”  

Wire’s there before Heat finishes talking, gloves pulled on, supplies laid out with practiced efficiency. He doesn’t tell you what to do. He never does. You kneel in front of Heat instead. “Sit still,” you say. 

Heat grins. “Bossy.” He still does it. 

You work carefully, focused. Heat goes quiet, watching you and Wire. One hand braces on his knee without thinking. Wire watches closely, passing you what you need the second you reach for it. Not once do you have to ask. 

Heat hisses once, sharp, then exhales slowly. “Okay, yeah, didn’t love that part.” 

“It’s out,” you say. “You’re fine.” 

“Told you,” Heat mutters, but his shoulders ease anyway. 

Wire steps in seamlessly, finishing the wrap, movements precise. His fingers brush yours briefly as he secures the bandage. “Your turn,” Wire says, already looking at the scrape along your arm. 

“It’s nothing.” 

“So was his,” Heat says, leaning forward now, suddenly invested. You sigh, but you let them. Heat’s touch is clumsy but gentle, Wire’s steady and exact. Somewhere in between, the sting fades. 

Footsteps clang on the deck. “Oi,” Kid’s voice cuts in. “We miss something?” 

You look up. Kid and Killer have just come back aboard, Killer’s head tilting slightly as he takes the scene in, Heat half-undressed and patched, you kneeling as Heat applies a bandage, Wire crouched close enough to touch both of you. 

Kid squints. “Huh.” 

Heat doesn’t even look embarrassed. “What?” 

Kid gestures vaguely. “Nothing. Just, every time I leave you three alone, you’re like this.” 

“Like what?” You ask. 

Kid shrugs. “Like you’re gonna fuse into one person or something.” 

Killer hums. “Efficient.” 

Wire stands first. “We’re done.” 

Heat snorts. “See? Professional.” 

Kid stares at the three of you for a moment longer than necessary, jaw working like he wants to say something else. Then he turns away. “Yeah,” he says. “Sure.” 

You go back to packing up supplies. Heat leans back, satisfied, already halfway to dozing. Wire steps away, returning to his usual distance, close enough to watch, far enough to pretend it means nothing. Everything settles. The ship hums as the moment passes. Nothing’s changed really and somehow, that’s what feels weird. 

Dinner’s long gone, replaced by cards, scattered berries, and the low buzz of voices filling the common area. You’re halfway through a hand when someone groans. “You cheat.” 

“I absolutely do not,” Heat says, grinning wide as he tosses his cards down. “I just win.” 

Wire doesn’t look up from the table. “Statistically unlikely.” 

Heat scoffs. “Traitor.” 

You snort and reach for the deck. “Deal again.” 

That’s when the door bangs open. One of the crew barrels in, waving a stack of papers overhead. “Oi, new bounties just dropped!” 

That gets everyone’s attention. “About time,” Heat says, cracking his knuckles. “Mine better’ve gone up.” 

The crew member flips through the stack, then pauses. Their eyebrows climb. “…Huh.” They hold up a poster. 

It’s you. Or...well. Mostly you. 

Your name’s bold at the top, bounty printed in thick black ink. The sketch is actually really good, could put that Cat Brugler of the Straw Hats to shame, catching you mid-motion. But flanking you, unmistakable even in rough lines, are Heat and Wire, positioned close, backs nearly touching yours. 

Heat leans forward. “Wait. Why am I on yours?” 

Wire’s eyes narrow slightly. “That’s not my poster.” 

The crew member squints at the fine print and reads aloud. ‘Frequently sighted alongside Eustass Kid’s subordinates Heat and Wire. Suspected intimate affiliation. Consider targets inseparable.’ 

Silence. 

Then... 

“HA!” Heat barks, slapping the table. “Intimate affiliation? You hear that?” 

Someone whistles. Another crew member laughs. “Damn. Guess that explains it.” 

“Explains what?” You ask, still staring at the poster. 

They gesture vaguely between the three of you. “Y’know. Whatever this is.” 

Wire reaches out and takes the poster from them. He studies it longer than necessary. Heat cranes over his shoulder. “Hey, they made me look good.” 

“They implied a relationship,” Wire says flatly. 

Heat shrugs. “People imply stuff all the time.” 

You finally glance at them, really look. Heat’s grin is still there, but it’s slower now, not the careless, loud one he usually wears. There’s a softness in the way he watches you, like he’s enjoying something he doesn’t usually admit. Wire hasn’t put the poster down. His eyes trace the lines of the sketch, lingering on you and Heat, but it’s not just curiosity, it’s attention, careful and deliberate, the kind that notices everything without saying a word. 

For the first time, it hits you: it’s not just the poster implying something. The way they are, the way they move around each other and around you, it’s real, unspoken, and undeniable. Heat leans slightly closer than usual, his arm brushing against yours almost by accident. Wire’s quiet presence presses in from the other side, his shoulder nudging yours lightly as he folds the poster. 

Your chest tightens, your pulse a little too fast. You can’t ignore it anymore. They aren’t just crewmates. They aren’t just friends. There’s something else there, something deeper, somehow you just never noticed.  You swallow, trying to steady your racing thoughts. The cards on the table suddenly feel distant, the laughter of the crew a muffled background. All you can see is them, Heat and Wire, and the way they exist together, and with you. 

Across the table, someone mutters, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Kinda makes sense.” 

“Yeah,” another adds. “You three don’t exactly act like normal crewmates.” 

Heat opens his mouth, ready to fire back, but pauses, his elbow brushing yours again as if subconsciously claiming the space beside you. Wire folds the poster neatly and sets it aside. Cards sit forgotten. No one laughs this time. 

You reach for the deck again, forcing motion back into the room. “So,” you say lightly. “Same stakes?” 

Heat exhales a laugh, a little too quick, and nudges your shoulder gently with his. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.” 

Wire nods once, leaning just a fraction closer than usual as he reaches for the cards. “Deal.” 

The game resumes. Conversation slowly follows. But the poster doesn’t leave the table. And every time you shift, you’re suddenly aware of how close they are, on either side, like always. Like it’s always been. 

You shuffle the deck Wire hands to you, trying to steady your racing thoughts, but every movement reminds you; that Heat is leaning slightly toward you, and of Wire just on the other side, shoulders brushing yours now and then. 

Heat deals the first hand, and his fingers graze yours as he passes a card across the table. You freeze for a fraction of a second, but he doesn’t notice, grinning, clearly enjoying the casual touch. Wire slides a card across next, not as deliberately, but it ends up brushing the edge of your palm anyway. His eyes flick up briefly, catching yours, but the moment is calm, unspoken. 

Throughout the game, Heat leans back, arm draped casually over the back of your chair, more comfortable than usual, but not intrusive. Wire shifts slightly closer as he reaches for his drink, keeping a steady presence beside you. 

You start to notice the little things, the way Heat subtly adjusts his position so he’s always just within reach, the way Wire’s quiet attentiveness makes sure your pile of cards doesn’t get jostled, the way they both somehow coordinate without a word. 

The crew laughs and jokes around the table, but for a moment, all you notice is the rhythm the three of you have. Heat’s teasing, Wire’s careful steadiness, and your own reactions weaving between them. The “poster” moment lingers in the back of your mind, but now it makes sense. This isn’t just closeness; it’s a unit, a balance, a connection you hadn’t fully realized until now. 

When you lay down a particularly good hand, Heat bumps your shoulder lightly in celebration, smirking, while Wire simply nods, subtle but approving. The gestures are small, casual, effortless and they mean more than words ever could. 

By the time the round ends, the three of you are still leaning in toward one another, an unspoken understanding settling in. The game continues, laughter resumes, but somewhere in the back of your mind, you know: it’s always been like this. 

The night winds down, the laughter fading, cards stacked neatly on the table. The crew drifts off to their bunks, one by one, until the Victoria Punk is quiet except for the soft creak of the ship and the occasional wave against the hull. 

You grab your coat and climb the stairs toward the crow’s nest, needing a moment of solitude before the night watch. The wind is sharp at the top, bracing, but it clears your head. Stars stretch across the sky, the world below muted and peaceful. 

A soft shuffle behind you makes you tense. “Thought you’d sneak off without saying good night?” Heat’s voice calls, half-teasing, half-curious. You turn to see him leaning casually against the ladder, a grin tugging at his lips. 

Wire steps up behind him, quieter, eyes scanning the horizon briefly before settling on you. “It’s… safer if you don’t wander alone,” he says, calm, measured. 

Heat chuckles. “Yeah, yeah, we’re your guardians tonight. No big deal. Just two dudes looking out for you.” 

You roll your eyes. “I can handle myself, you two know that.” 

Heat shrugs, still smiling, but there’s something different in his tone, almost lighter than his usual bravado. Then, as if reading your skepticism, Wire shifts slightly closer. His voice drops just enough, quiet but firm and precise. “You’re always in the middle of us. That’s not by chance.”  

It’s not a confession. Not in the words you expect. But it lands harder than one ever could. The casual weight behind it, the simplicity of stating what’s always been true, hits somewhere deep. 

Heat nudges your shoulder, grinning again, though softer now. “See? I told you we’re harmless tonight.” 

You glance between them, the wind tugging at your hair, the stars above, and the quiet understanding between the three of you. The joking, the teasing, the protective presence; it’s all part of something unspoken, undeniable. 

You let yourself lean slightly against Heat and Wire’s presses gently from the other side. The night stretches on, quiet, and for the first time, you feel the full weight of what’s been there all along, the three of you, always in sync, always together. And somewhere between the wind and the stars, you realize some truths don’t need words to be understood. 

Heat claps his hands. “See? Full schedule. Let’s go.” 

You grumble a bit, wanting to go back to sleep. “Do I get a say?” 

Heat grabs your hand, pulling you out of your bed. “You’re saying yes with your feet. Move ‘em. And get dressed.” He adds with a wink. “If you need help, we won’t mind.”   

You chuck a pillow straight at his face. Wire hands you your clothes before you can say anything, and you shove both of them out so you can change. By the time you step back out, Heat’s arm is already around your shoulders, and Wire has taken up position on your other side. You’re sandwiched before you even realize it. 

You’re soon helping Heat clean weapons while Wire works nearby, coiling up some rope. Every time you shift, one of them adjusts too, Heat scoots closer, Wire steps in just enough to block the open space. 

“You two know you don’t both need to be right here,” you say. 

Heat snorts. “What, and let you wander off?” 

Wire nods once. “Unlikely.” 

“That was not reassuring.” 

Heat flashes a grin. “Relax. We’re just keeping you company.” 

You glance around. “This feels more like surveillance.” Heat just grins and Wire shrugs.  

Later you finally manage to sit down with a plate to finally eat something, and Heat immediately steals something off it. “Hey!” 

“You weren’t gonna finish that.” 

“Yes I was!” 

Wire slides his own plate a little closer to yours. “Take some of mine.” 

You blink. “…Why?” 

“Balance,” he says simply. 

Heat grins. “See? We take care of you.” 

“You stole my food.” 

“And replaced it,” Heat says, gesturing at Wire. “Team effort.” 

You sigh. “You guys are clingy.” 

Heat laughs. “Together?” 

Wire tilts his head. “Is that a problem?” 

You open your mouth. Close it. “I don’t know.” 

They exchange a look. “Cool,” Heat says. “We’ll keep going then.” 

You try to sneak away for some quiet time. You make it all of three steps. “Where you goin’?” Heat calls. 

“…Nowhere.” 

Wire is already beside you. “That’s vague.” 

“I just wanted a minute.” 

Heat drapes himself over a railing in front of you, blocking the path. “Minute with us counts.” 

Wire steps in behind you close enough that you’re very aware of him. “…You planned this.” 

Heat grins. “Maybe.” 

Wire adds, “Yes.” 

You’re sitting on the deck, leaning back, staring at the sky. Heat drops down beside you, stretching his legs out. Wire settles on your other side a moment later. 

No one speaks. It’s comfortable. 

Heat breaks the silence first. “You’re quieter when you sit with us.” 

“…Am I?” 

Wire nods. “You don’t fidget.” 

Heat smirks. “Means you’re relaxed.” 

You glance between them. “You’re both hovering.” 

Heat shrugs. “We’re good at it.” 

Wire adds, “You don’t ask us to leave.” You don’t have a response to that. 

By sunset, you’re exhausted, sitting between them as the light turns the sea gold. 

Heat leans back on his hands. “Long day.” 

“Yeah,” you murmur. Wire’s shoulder brushes yours when he shifts. He doesn’t move away. “…You’ve both been around me all day,” you say. 

Heat hums. “Yeah.” 

Wire says, “Correct.” 

“That’s clingy.” 

Heat laughs. “We prefer ‘consistent.’” 

Wire considers. “…Persistent.” 

Heat nods. “Yeah. That one.” 

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “You could at least pretend you’re not doing it on purpose.” 

Heat slings an arm around your shoulders, resting it there while messing with your hair. “Where’s the fun in that?” 

Wire leans a fraction closer, wrapping his arm around your waist. “We like knowing where you are.” The sun dips lower. Neither of them move and you don’t either. 

♥️⚙️Eustass Kid:

 You wake up hoping for a peaceful start, maybe a cup of tea on the deck. Instead, you find Kid leaning against the railing, smirking. “About time,” he says. “You’re coming with me.” 

“…Coming with you where?” 

“Helping me, obviously.” He gestures toward a pile of metal scraps and tools. “You’re going to hold things. Fetch things. Maybe even… learn a thing or two.” 

“I can hold things,” you offer weakly. 

“Good enough.” He smirks, handing you a heavy metal pipe. “Hold this. Don’t drop it. Moving on.” 

By the time you’re halfway through the first task, you realize your “peaceful morning” is over. Every time you try to take a break, he appears behind you. “Where are you going?” 

“Just...” 

“Back to work. Move.” 

“Yes, captain,” you mutter. 

Kid’s projects have migrated to the Victora Punk’s deck. Sparks fly, tools clatter, and you’re crouched down holding a panel while he welds a complicated-looking mechanism. 

“No, no. Doll it more like this.” He grabs your hands for a second, adjusts your grip, then lets go. “…Better. Don’t move.” 

You glance up not even registering what he just called you. “I’m basically stuck here.” 

“Exactly. Good.” His smirk widens. “…See? You’re useful.” 

You finally sit down for a moment, expecting to eat in peace. Of course, Kid plops down beside you, arms crossed, leaning just enough to claim the space. “You should eat fast,” he says, nodding at your plate. “Can’t leave things half-done.” 

“I’m eating,” you point out. 

“And helping.” He smirks. “Multitasking.” Somehow, he manages to steal half your food while insisting you keep working. When you glare, he just shrugs. “Sharing is helping.” 

By this point, you’re running errands all over the ship: fetching parts, holding equipment, and following him from one chaotic project to the next. Every time you drift toward a moment of peace, he appears. “Where are you going?” 

“…Just grabbing a drink.” 

“You can drink here. Or there. Or follow me.” He gestures toward another pile of metal and sparks. “Option three is preferred.” 

“Option three again?” 

“Obviously.” He smirks. “Helping me. You like helping me, don’t you?” 

“…I… guess?” 

“Good answer. Now move.” 

By now, your muscles ache, and you finally sit on the deck, leaning against the railing. Kid plops down beside you, smirk still in place. Not exactly cuddling, but the proximity is deliberate. One arm drapes casually behind your back, as if claiming the spot. “You’re… clingy?” 

Kid tilts his head. “I’m not clingy. You just happen to be useful. And convenient. And… okay, fine, I like having you here.” 

“That’s clingy.” 

“…I prefer ‘strategically attached.’” He leans slightly closer, wrapping his arm around you pulling you closers, eyes glinting with mischief. “See? Still not clingy.” 

By the time the sun starts dipping, you’ve been trapped in Kid’s orbit all day. Every time you move, he’s there, assigning another task, watching, smirking. Even when you try to rest, he insists on supervising. “…Kid.” 

“Relax. You’re good at this. Don’t mess it up.” 

You can’t help but laugh. “I think I just got drafted into your personal maintaince crew.” 

“Exactly,” he says, leaning back, arms crossed, smirk never leaving his face. “And you’re stuck.” 

By the time the stars come out, you’ve stopped trying to escape. Somehow, being “stuck” with Kid all day, running errands, holding metal, dodging sparks, is kind of nice. Chaotic, loud, and a little infuriating, but nice.  

You lean back, letting him smirk beside you in silence. “…Strategically attached,” you repeat quietly. 

“…Exactly,” he says, smirk softening just slightly. “…And useful. Don’t forget useful.” 

💙☠️Killer:

You step onto the deck, stretching and enjoying the sun, when you feel a presence beside you. “…Killer?” 

He’s leaning against the railing, hands casually resting on the edge, eyes hidden behind his mask, but there’s no mistaking the way he subtly positions himself beside you. “Morning,” he says quietly. 

“Morning,” you reply. 

His tone is flat, but the way he angles his body keeps him close. “You shouldn’t overdo it in the sun.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “…I just got out here.” 

“Still, you should be careful.” His phrasing is careful, neutral, but there’s no denying the closeness. 

Later, you wander toward the storage room for supplies. When you come out, carrying a small crate, Killer is there. Standing silently. Waiting. “Killer, did you just follow me?” 

“I was nearby,” he corrects. “Crates can be heavy. I can help.” 

You sigh and hand him half the load. He takes it without complaint, walking just slightly behind you. When you stumble over a loose plank, his hand brushes yours, enough to steady you, not quite holding you. “Thanks.” 

“Of course, anytime.” His tone is flat, but the hint of amusement in his posture is there. 

By now, the ship is buzzing with activity. You’re trying to take a small break on the deck, sitting with your back to the railing. Killer sits down beside you, careful to leave space, but close enough that you notice the subtle warmth of his presence. “Killer?” 

“Yes?” 

“You don’t move very far from me, do you?” 

“I don’t move far.” Somehow the answer feels protective. “It’s safer this way.” 

You grin, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “That’s clingy, you know.” 

He tilts his head slightly. “No. Not clingy. Protective.” 

When Kid and the others are running around, creating chaos, Killer is quietly nearby, always alert. When sparks fly from one of Kid’s experiments, he’s instantly by your side, crouching slightly to make sure you’re out of the way. “You’re everywhere today.” 

“I am aware of your location,” he says calmly. “It helps me respond faster.” 

“That’s still clingy.” 

“It is not clingy. It is effective.” He gives a faint shrug, but his knee brushes yours briefly, almost accidental, almost deliberate. 

By sunset, you sit on the deck, exhausted but content. Killer is right there, leaning against the railing beside you, legs stretched out, one hand resting lightly near yours. He doesn’t speak, but the quiet companionship is heavier than words. 

“Killer.” 

“Yes?” 

“You’ve been… here all day.” 

“I’m here.” Short, flat, matter-of-fact. “I do not leave.” 

You can’t help but smile. “That’s clingy.” 

He finally glances at you, eyes soft behind the mask. “It’s… necessary.” 

And maybe it is. Being around Killer all day, quiet, protective, just a constant presence, is comforting. The kind of clingy that doesn’t demand, doesn’t smother, but still makes you feel undeniably safe. “Fine,” you murmur, leaning back slightly. “…I don’t mind, but scoot over here, you may as well be closer.” 

There’s a brief pause. Just long enough that you wonder if you pushed too far. Then Killer shifts, shoulder brushing yours and his hand taking yours in his.  For the rest of the evening, he stays nearby. Silent. Protective. Clingy in his own quiet way. 

💛🫀Trafalgar Law:

It was one of those rare days when the ship was docked. You’re leaning against the railing, enjoying the gentle sway of the Polar Tang, when you feel a shadow fall across your side. “…Law?” 

He’s standing there, arms crossed, expression unreadable, but his shoulder brushes yours. “Yes?” 

“You’re… close.” 

“I am merely ensuring your safety,” he says, voice flat. “It is windy.” 

You glance at the railing and back at him. “I don’t need guarding.” 

“Perhaps. But precaution is advisable.” 

Later, you’re walking toward the deck to grab some supplies a couple of other crew members had brought back. Law is quietly following, hands in his pockets, stride matching yours perfectly. You glance over your shoulder. “…Are you following me?” 

“I am maintaining proximity for tactical observation.” His eyes are serious, almost calculating. “You should not be out of my line of sight for extended periods.” 

You sigh. “That’s clingy.” 

He blinks at you once. “…I do not believe that word applies to me.” 

By mid-morning, you sit on the deck with a cup of tea. Law comes and sits a few feet away, knees almost brushing yours, book in hand. He doesn’t speak, but every few moments, his gaze flicks toward you, scanning to make sure you’re comfortable. 

When you stretch your arms, he shifts slightly, enough to keep your movements within his peripheral view. “Law?” 

“Yes?” 

“You’ve been… watching me.” 

“I call it monitoring. Observation is different from… attachment.” 

By noon, you’ve wandered toward the galley to help with lunch prep. Law appears at the entrance silently, standing back, arms crossed, observing as if guarding both the room and you. You glance at him. “You really are everywhere today.” 

“I am present where necessary,” he says, tone neutral. “Including here.” 

Later, when you take a short walk on the upper deck, Law appears beside you again, side by side, hands in pockets, calm as ever. He doesn’t speak unless necessary, but when you stop to watch a flock of seagulls, his shoulder nudges yours gently. Almost imperceptible, but deliberate. “…Law.” 

“Yes?” 

“You keep touching me.” 

“Incidental contact.” 

You laugh softly. “Incidental, sure.” You remark as you carefully take his hand in yours, giving a gentle squeeze.  

By evening, the sun starts to dip, painting the deck gold. You sit to relax, leaning against the railing. Law sits beside you again, leg brushing yours, hand resting nearby—not quite touching, not exactly distant. Just… there. Constant. Calm. Protective. 

“You know,” you murmur, letting your hand brush against his, “this is exactly what being clingy looks like.” 

He glances down at your hand briefly, expression unreadable. “…I see no evidence to support that claim.” 

You grin. “…Sure, Law.” After a while, you notice him subtly leaning closer as if the motion were unconscious. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t move, just sits, his presence steady and reassuring. “Law?” He finally looks at you, the faintest softness in his eyes. “You’re not going anywhere, right?” 

“…Nope.” 

A nod. “Good.” It’s silent after that. No dramatic gestures, no loud proclamations, just the quiet knowledge that he’s there. Always near. Always watching. Always yours, in his own careful way. 

❤️🍖Monkey D. Luffy:

Luffy doesn’t say he isn’t clingy. He says, “What’s clingy?” 

You pause mid-step. “You don’t know?” 

He grins. “Nope!” 

Usopp, sitting on the railing nearby, snickers. “It means you won’t leave them alone.” 

Luffy blinks. Then looks at you. “Why would I want to leave them alone?” You open your mouth. Close it. Fair enough.  

Later that day, you’re walking across the deck when something suddenly wraps around your arm. “HEY!” Luffy beams, hanging off you like this is normal. “Wanna see something cool?” 

Before you can answer, he’s already dragging you toward the trees on the nearby island the Sunny’s docked at. Five minutes in, he crouches dramatically and points at a leaf. “LOOK.” 

You lean in. “Is that… a beetle?” 

“Yeah!” His eyes sparkle. “It can lift stuff heavier than you!” 

“…Rude.”  

He laughs and bumps into you, knocking you slightly off balance. His arm immediately hooks around your waist. “Careful!” he says, like he didn’t cause it. 

From a distance, Nami squints. “Is he… attached to them?” 

“He does that,” Robin says calmly. 

When you try to wander off to explore on your own, Luffy follows without question. “You don’t have to come with me,” you tell him. 

He tilts his head. “Why not?” 

“…Because I’m just looking around.” 

“Oh.” He thinks for a second. “I’ll look around too.” You stop walking and he stops walking. You turn around to look at him, and he just flashes you that bight grin of his.  

Later, you sit on a rock to rest. Luffy immediately plops down beside you, no, on you would be more acurrate, head in your lap like he’s claimed the spot. 

“You’re comfy,” he declares. 

“You didn’t ask.” 

“You didn’t say no.” 

Usopp groans from somewhere behind you. “That’s not how that works!” 

At dinner, Luffy sits so close your shoulders touch. He eats off your plate without asking. “That’s mine,” you say. 

He pauses. “Oh.” Then pushes his plate toward you. “We can share.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. “Luffy, do you know what clingy means now?” 

He thinks hard. “…Is it when you like someone and wanna be with them and show them cool stuff and sit next to them and share meat?” 

You stare. “That’s… basically it.” 

“Oh.” He smiles, bright and unapologetic. “Then yeah! I guess I am!” He suddenly throws an arm around you and leans his full weight against your side. 

At the height Wire holds you, you might as well be flying. One of his hands nearly big enough to wrap around your thigh.

    "Your friend's grave, right?" His baritone voice is quiet beneath the wind whipping up the hillside. "Yeah," you reply in a breathless nod, still winded from your gopher-hole throttling. He nods wordlessly, deep brown eyes twinkling in the faint moonlight.

    A part of you felt embarrassed, you'd always hated being doted on. Kidd had done plenty after you lost both your leg and Dory, he'd remained so far up your ass you swore if you sneezed you'd clench around him. It took a lot of re-established boundaries for him to finally step back, though he denied ever being so clingy. It wasn't long after that you'd met Wire- the tall, gothically elegant pirate currently rushing you to your departed love's grave.

~ Your leg ached, the nub elevated by lavish pillows surrounded by ice - a martyr on display to assist in swaying the two tall men to Kidd's side. Dory would have been a better face for change. However, her body was nothing more than ashes combined with ink in the skin of your chest - the only other mark of her once existence being a stone on Kutsukku. Your stump would have to suffice.

    You'd become bitter in her departure, but kept your cool most of the time.

    The taller man regarded you with little interest. The other one, his skin pink around stitches stretching the corners of his mouth and cheeks, looked as if he might cry from the sight of you.

    You sighed in annoyance, the taller man - Wire, you'd learned - continued to verbally rile Kidd. Killer was out negotiating with smaller gangs, leaving you to hold the redhead's metaphorical leash. Another round of exchanged words had Kidd slamming his hands on the table, voice getting louder with every syllable.

    You'd had enough.

    You rose from your seat, snatching your crutches so loudly both men went silent.

    "Where tha' hell are you goin'?" Kidd snarled, more nervous to be in your absence than anything else.

    "To find real rebels, people who want to change this fuck-hole - Not an antagonistic skeleton and his sidekick, the crying ghoul." You'd probably ruined any chance of negotiation with those words alone, at least you thought you had.

    Deep chuckles resonated from Wire, his ghoulish friend choked down his own laughter.

    "I like your fire, Stumpy. You sure are funny for only a fifth of a woman."

    "You're pretty cocky for an overgrown twig."

    The exchanges ended in Wire and his friend shaking hands with both you and Kidd, alliance formed.

    It wasn't until later that night that you'd laid in bed, embarrassed by your loose tongue and bad attitude. You'd grown into a Kidd who cursed less.~

    Wire settled you on the bench at the top of the hill just as the clock struck midnight. Prickles of unshed tears burned your eyes, but never fell.

    "Happy birthday, Dory." You whispered, pulling a broken candle from your pocket and lighting it. Wire held out his hand, helping you hop until you stood where you wanted, flickering candle dripping wax down your hand. Even after you'd caught your balance, his warm arm stayed wound around your waist.

    Silence ticked by, the moon-lit night slowly engulfed in storm clouds.

    Lightning suddenly sparkled across the sky and thunder shook the earth, but you still didn't move. You stood vigil, balancing your weight against Wire every now and again.

    The first drop of rain smothered your stump of a candle with a hiss, officially ending your yearly ritual.

    "Same time as every year," you mumbled. She had always waited about ten minutes or so, saying she wanted to soak in the new age - until the candle was almost gone.

    Rain turned to downpour, making you scramble to cover your camera and photos. Wire was right next to you, tucking things into his pockets to keep them dry. Another round of lightning lit up the sky, illuminating Dory's grave and the bench where you'd set your things. Luck, or the spirit of love, you didn't know; but you were glad for the brief light allowing you to ensure you'd gathered all of your belongings.

    Heavy leather shielded you from the rain, held up by Wire's other long arm. "Climb on my back! We're going to the ship!" He bellowed through pouring rain and roaring thunder. Silk pressed against your wet skin as he turned his back to you while simultaneously dropping his cloak over the top of you. Catching on, you waited until the tension on the ties keeping the material secured to him loosened. Once loose enough, you climbed on his back, holding the cloak up a bit to keep the both of you dry.

    His scent surrounded you, cacooning you in amber, cedar, metal, and faint hints of weed. You reveled in the way his wisps of hair tickled your face, keeping you grounded while grief gradually left your system. The trek back to the ship was becoming unnoticeable, your attention captured by Wire's natural allure.

    The fantasies faded as you got a better grasp on yourself. You didn't want to spiral as you had in the past, finding a quick fling to fuck away years of pent-up agony. Wire is your friend. He'd met you at your worst and helped to pick up the pieces.

    ~ You sat with your back against the wall of the bar, a meek alley cat slowly approaching you with each piece of chicken you tossed its way.

    The entirety of the allied gangs, now declared a pirate crew, danced and sang inside the building. You wanted to celebrate. You'd gutted the man who killed Dory, so you should have. It just didn't feel right. The emptiness you'd felt since you had laid her to rest on the pyre didn't shift in the slightest. Kidd had told you over and over that it would take time, but he was making progress - you were stuck in limbo.

    The sounds from inside the bar unmuffled for a moment, the bell above its door rang as someone opened it, then shut it again. You paid no mind until a lanky figure flopped itself next to you.

    Wire said nothing, stealing a piece of chicken from you to try and goad the cat closer.

    "You not a fan of bars?" You asked, trying to lead the cat to you before he could. He didn't answer at first, eyes trailing lazily from the cat to you.

    "...Nauseous.." He turned to look at you fully.

    "How long do you feel empty... before the healing part starts?" He asked, leaning his head against the wall.

    "Kidd and Killer keep saying it takes time... but, personally, I don't know." You hesitate for a moment, but curiosity gets the better of you. "What took your heart?"

    " ... I had to cut down my own father back there... it felt good, knowing the things he'd done to my mother... but now it feels horrible, knowing she wouldn't have wanted things to end this way... and the nausea... it still hasn't left." His reply was unexpected, as was his answer. "You?"

    "I killed the man who took my girlfriend from me... and, like you said, it felt great in the moment... but, now..."

    "Is that why your prosthesis was all bloody?"  He sounded as if he was trying not to laugh, shifting the mood to something both comfortable and light.

    "Yeah... I had a gun, but it felt better to just... hit him with it." A smile ghosted at your lips, the absurdity of beating a man with your metal leg sparking bits of humor into you.

    "Should have let me barrow it. I feel like my trident pales in comparison to a leg." He chucked, flashing you a triumphant grin as the cat butted his hand.

    "I guess I could in the future - for a small fee, of course." You reached forward, giving the cat a few pats on its head.

    It was the first time you had ever talked to Wire one on one, outside the scope of the occasional insult.

    "I have pocket lint and a septum ring," he jested.

    "Close enough," you shrugged, smile matching his. ~

    That had been the start of your friendship. Wire hadn't once looked at you with pity or guilt, and the same went for you. Over the years you'd helped each other through your own respective obstacles, a mutual understanding bridging the gap between you.

     The sound Wire's shoes made against the wet cobblestone shifted into claps against the docks wood.

    "Hopefully, the rest of the crew is drunk or asleep. You're quite the celebrity among them, you know?" He teases over the sound of rain. "Of course. I'm the only member to 'leave Captain Kidd's crew and survive,'" you snort. The irony of the whole situation was anyone could leave, Kidd might give them a scar or two, but he wouldn't kill them. Be it pride, or genuine empathy, he simply didn't care to.

    Wire passed through a few doors, the ship mostly quiet aside from the storm. You look at him quizzically, remembering the ships layout well enough to know you aren't going to Kidd's quarters.

    "Its much bigger than when I was a member, but I'm sure Kidd's cabin was that building up those stairs, no?" You speak in a whisper, Wire's sopping cloak weighing down your shoulders.

    "I forget you two were so close. Yes, that was his cabin out there. I thought you would want a bath first." He hums softly, keeping his ears open for any prying crew mates.

    "Oh, you all have baths now?" That is definitely new. The last time you'd set foot on the ship, it had crew quarters, Captain's quarters, a kitchen, and arsenal storage. "Kidd all but demanded we build one- more he build one- but- well- you know how he is.. regardless, it's less stopping, less illness, less shit smell." Wire shrugs, the motion bouncing you a little.

    "That's good. I'm glad he's not as pungent as when we were children." You chuckle, melting more against Wire's frame as your defenses begin crumbling. It had been a long while since you felt at home. No fear of looking over your shoulder, or deducing every glance sent your way; just the aroma of metal, leather, gunpowder, pine, and the occasional funk from laundry filled baskets. Just the warmth of Wire, and the calm he brought with him.

    He pushes open another door, this one decorated with opaque stained glass, probably stolen from a church of some sort. Inside, the room is steamy despite the open windows lining the opposite wall. A large bath stretches from one end of the wall to the other, a dragon-headed spout peaking from between the windows. Kidd sure did have a flair for the punk and gothic, that was certain.

    Large hands gently stabilize you as you climb off of Wire's back.

    "Damn, I leave for three years and you all go crazy with the architecture." You jest, stripping out of your soaked clothes. Bathing with your friends wasn't uncommon. Afterall, once Dory passed you needed help to get to a bath, nevertheless someone to stand guard. Wire himself had helped you a majority of the time after you'd met. You weren't sure why. The two of you just 'clicked' after that night in the alley.

    You oogle Wire's back muscles as he strips himself of his shirt, no longer the sickly-thin man you'd once known. It makes you happy knowing he is much more comfortable in his own skin - that he no longer fears the things that nourish him.

    Once you'd both fully undressed, Wire guides you to a stool underneath a showerhead near the tub, his hands clammy and warm against your bare waist. "As much as I'd love to dive right into that water right now, we should probably scrub off first." He mumbles, thumb swirling gentle circles into your torso. The smidge of affection made delightful gooseflesh prickle your skin, warmth flooding the apples of your cheeks and tingling in your core.

     You definitely need to get laid after your leg gets fixed. Having to remind your body that your friends are off limits grows ever the bigger pain in your ass; especially when the one you want the most stands in front of you, suds carving a trail down his nude body. You watch iridescent foam slide from his jaw, down his muscled chest, and into the trail of hair starting a few inches above his navel. You stop your eyes there, no matter how much the heat in your stomach begs you to see if his curtains match the drapes.

    "Why did you leave... All those years ago?" Wire asks, aiming the showerhead closer to you without rinsing off your own suds. You sigh, not in irritance, but in remorse. The decision you'd made back then was an incredibly stupid one led by your self-loathing.

    "I felt like I was burdening the lot of you.... You remember when we would hit up the taverns almost every night on a new island?" You rest your soap covered scrubbie on your lap, watching the suds slowly pop.

    "Of course. After you left, it wasn't all that fun anymore."

    Butterflies twirl in your stomach once more, Wire's almost-confession catching you off guard. "You would stick to me like a fly on fruit, never straying too far because you were scared someone would take me... Even when pretty women and men would throw themselves in your lap you'd turn them down... You lost so many opportunities to absorb the lusts and glory of the pirate life because you were worried about me.." The truth stung. Your relationship with Wire one of a ball and chain back then.

    "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn't care for it... Some were drooling over the fantasy of bedding me. Others thought I must be some kind of rich pimp. Every now and again there would be one who'd try to play into slave-master bdsm with me  - without asking if I was into it...  only being taken at face value... I.. They may as well have spit on me," he sounded almost offended. "I would have much preferred to help drunk you harass Kidd any day." Wire scoffs as he steadies you under the shower's stream. His hands slid from your upper arms to your hands, his fingers entangling with yours.

    "I missed you- we all did... You were never a burden." He chokes out, emotion rolling over him.

    When he'd met you, he was at his wits end. Life had felt monotonous, going about every day doing the same things: eating, fighting, fucking, sleeping, repeat. He'd stopped doing the first, it seemed like a waste of resources when he felt he hadn't contributed a damn thing to those who really needed it. Then, there was you.

    The day you left, he thought he'd never seen you again. It was as if someone had ripped his heart from his chest.

    ~ Wire stared at the sack thrown over your shoulder, the sound of Kidd's beratement deaf in his ears.

    You were leaving.

    The gash beading crimson down your cheek mixed with your tears, turning salty and pink as it dripped onto the deck. Killer had Kidd around his waist, Wire holding the raging redhead in a headlock, while Heat wished you farewell.

    "I want to bring those who kill without reason to justice. I can't do that if I'm a Kidd Pirate. I'd be a hypocrite by rumor."

    You'd said, just moments before Kidd swung. He cursed your name into the morning air, belittling you for leaving on the basis of something as foolish as rumors. Though, he knew just as well as the rest of the crew, you were lying. Wire could see it in the scrunch of his forehead, in the tears beading at the corners of his kohl lined eyes. Somewhere, somehow, you'd begun to separate yourself like a limping wolf within a pack.

    But you were not an animal, and neither was the crew.

    Wire couldn't speak, his throat burning as he watched you walk the gangplank. By the time you'd passed the marina, tears had begun to fall down his cheeks. Kidd had stopped struggling then, glancing between his tallest friend and his first love's love.

    You were not some limping animal, but it was too late to convince you otherwise. ~

    Steam rose between the two of you, the air tense with awkwardness brought on by partial confessions.

    "I'm sorry... It was selfish of me to leave the way I did. Especially when..." You swallow hard, tracing the scarred flesh tapering your leg.

    "I never told you how I felt.... Nobody did. It's not a common Kidd Pirate thing to do," he shrugs.

    You nodded, lips twitching up in a smile. "Do you think he'd let me come back?"

    Your words hadn't fully left your mouth, cut off by Wire pulling you down on the floor, into his lap, arms crushing you against his chest. He said nothing, not trusting his voice as tears well behind his eyes.

    "Wire- we're naked- and I can't- breathe," you wheeze. He held you still, inhailing against your damp skin. His breath tickles your neck, causing you to jump against him. Wire chokes back a moan, your bare lower lips sliding against his half-hard length.

    "Ah! Sorry-sorry!" You try to move away, but he keeps you still. His warmth leaves your neck as he pulls back to look you in the eyes. No words are spoken as his hands find themselves on either side of your jaw, one of his thumbs grazing over your lower lip. Eyes like the night sky absorb your image to his memory.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asks, thumb trailing over your lip again.

    "I - Yes - Yeah," you stumble out. Wire's soft lips meet yours, one of his hands sliding back to tangle in your hair. He parts from you for a moment, only to dive back in harder, his tongue prying your lips apart with ease - though he meets little resistance to begin with. Goosebumps create a path across your skin in the wake of Wire's hands, warmth discoloring your cheeks and pooling in your core. Simultaneously, his tongue slides across yours, pinning it down and reaching further into your mouth, stopping just shy of your throat.

    You melt at the perfect balance of confidence and consideration as he becomes bolder with his hands, fingers brushing the line of folded flesh along the underside of your breasts. The pads of his fingers move upwards, caressing your chest in a loose cage before cupping it fully. Thumbs brushing over your nipples, already plush and pointed from arousal. A gasped moan makes its way from your throat, Wire swallowing it as he repeats his movements, spurring your hips into a shy grind. One of his hands shifts lower, clasping one of your ass cheeks in his large palm, fingers so long they dip between your folds, sitting at the edge of your dripping hole.

    Wire pulls you closer, pressing your chests together as well as your cunt and his cock. You yelp in surprise, his tongue jabbing the back of your throat as you do. Several strings of saliva glitter between his lips and yours as he pulls away, just as disheveled as you. Using the grip on your lower half, he grinds your pussy on his length. A deep, wanton moan leaves his lips, feeling the warm slick your cunt decorate his shaft with each pass of your hips.

    Wire's cock feels impossibly big pressing against you. You try to slide down, wanting to feel its weight on your tongue. He stops you, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss while his fingers caress your cunt.

    "Ride my face," Wire pants, already dragging you to stand. Even with him kneeling and you standing, he is much too tall. You aren't able to mount his lips and have your foot on the floor.

    Wire groans in frustration, laying back on the floor and patting his chest. You stood still for a moment, skin hot with hormones and steam. "Please. I need to taste you," he begs with blown pupils and flushed cheeks. He looks gorgeous - splayed, disheveled, begging - you could feel your slick begining to trickle between your thighs. You obey him, but face his cock as you lower your cunt onto his face.

    In this position you can't reach his throbbing length with your mouth like you so desperately crave, opting to wrap your hands around it instead. Wire buries his tongue in your cunt, his thumb coming up to softly glide across your clit. He groans as your hand slides up and down his length, his other hand keeping your pelvis glued to his face. Whimpers leave your mouth as he licks your inner walls, alternating with sucking your clit every now and again.

    Once he knows you aren't moving away, Wire plunges his fingers into your cunt, reveling in the cries of pleasure you emit with each press and pull of his knuckles in your pussy.

    "Wire - Fuck! Wire.. mnff - please!" You beg, hips rocking in tandem with his fingers.

    "Let me stretch you out some more, beautiful." He replies, his words sending vibrations up your clit.

    Fire roars in your veins, singeing the tightly wound coil in your belly. You could feel it burning through the middle, your muscles tightening in preparation for the incoming orgasm. Another of Wire's fingers plunges into your sopping cunt, his mouth never stopping its ministrations on your clit.

    "Hah! Wire! I'm - Oh fuck! I'm close!" You yelp, griping his cock slightly harder. A low moan reverberates through his chest, the sound alone pushing you closer to your edge. Wire uses his free hand to grip your hip tighter, quickening his pace with his other.

    "You're so tight, cutie," he sighs against your clit," Gonna cum for me?" A squeal unintentionally pushing from your throat as he punctuates his words with rough thrusts of his fingers. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, thighs trembling against his cheeks.

    Wire removes his fingers, a smug grin painting his face as you whine in frustration.

    "Think you're ready?" He hums, dragging you so you sat with your back to his chest.

    "I think if you don't fuck me now I'm going to dive out the window," you pant, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Sultry chuckles leave him, his hands sliding up your ribs to softly cup your chest. "You think I'd let you," he challenges, the pads of his fingers drawing slow, teasing patterns into your nipples.

    "You think you could stop me?" You twitch forward in jest.

    Wire lifts you by the hips, prodding the head of his cock into your hole, "Would this be enough to?"

    Slowly, you sink onto him, using his grip on your hips for balance. Shuddering moans mingle in the steamy air, your knee barely reaching the floor from your position - spread open on his lap. Wire squeezes his eyes shut, the warm, wet velvet of your pussy like heaven for his senses and hell for his patience.

    Inch by inch, you engulf his throbbing cock. You're stretched out both wider and deeper than you've ever been. The damp skin of your hands meets Wire's as you entangle your fingers, rocking your hips slowly.

    "Are you okay? Hurting?" He asks breathlessly.

    "Hah - N-never been better... mm-fuck  -  why?" You reply, meeting his gaze above your head. He answers you with a gentle press of his hand over your lower abdomen, making you yelp at how tight and full you feel. Your gaze drifts down, seeing the soft protrusion his large cock has made in your abdomen.

    "You've just barely taken - nngh - half of me and - fucking hell, gorgeous," he's cut off by his own moan, far too physically distracted by your clenching walls and quickening pace.

    "I must be on the sensitive half," you tease between whispered pants of curses.

    Wire goes quiet, his once gentle hands digging into your flesh as he suddenly pushes himself deeper into you. A squeal leaves your lips as you feel his hot tip prod at the entrance of your cervix. You're given no room to squirm, squeals of protest and delight leaving your swollen lips as he lifts and drops you - a human fleshlight at the mercy of his strength and size.

    Coherence has left you, babbles of 'Wire' and whimpers of 'more' being the only real words to leave you in your haze of lust.

    "More? You want me inside that tight womb of yours, cutie?" He asks teasingly, punctuating his words with deeper thrusts. You nod rapidly, begging for every inch of his length despite already feeling impossibly full.

    "Put...pu.. Put-t it all in me, Wir-r-re! Plea- Yes!" You scream, feeling a pleasurably painful 'pop' as the head of his cock makes its way into your cervix.

    Now, you can feel him everywhere; your ass firmly pressed to his pelvis, one of his arms wrapped around you, keeping you steady against his thrusts while simultaneously pressing into the outline of his cock; his other hand rubs circles into your clit.

     You feel as if you've crossed over, arousal so hot it borders pain. Crescents form in Wire's arms under the pressure of your fingernails, trying to ground yourself despite the over-pleasured trembling in your arms and legs. Cries of his name roll off your tongue, the crescendo of your orgasm just on the horizon.

    "Shit! Augh! I'm - mmnn - I'm close! Gonna cum wi- with me, pretty thin-ng?" Wire groans, angling his arm between your breasts and gripping your chin with his large fingers. Sharp cries of 'yes' rip from your throat, head bobbing frantically.

    "Ha-ah! Look me in the eyes," he moans lowly, fingers gripping your chin tighter. Your watery pupils meet his, and the coil in your abdomen snaps. You sing Wire's name into the air of the bathroom, breaking up the single syllable with cries and moans. Liquid gushes from your cunt, drenching his thighs and cock.

    Wire's tongue plunges into your mouth, devouring your moans while feeding you his. Molten hot spurts of cum fill your womb, distending it, unable to leak out due to the thick phallus plugging your hole.

    Tears roll down your cheeks, orgasm seemingly having no end with every swirl of Wire's fingers over your clit and each pump of cum in your cunt.

    "I've got you," he sighs, finally letting you breath from his kiss and stilling his movements over your sensitive nub.

    You lay against him, sweat velcroing your back to his chest, tremors rolling through your aching muscles. Yet, you feel you're on cloud nine - sharing an afterglow with Wire, the most intoxicating ambrosia.

    Once relaxion has claimed your jittering limbs, and Wire's cock has softened enough, he gently pulls out. The raw soreness left in his wake makes you whine, twitching a bit in discomfort.

    He groans at the sight of you, hunched over, hips tilted just enough to see his cum glisten in the light as it trickles from your swollen cunt.

    Wire pulls you back to resting on his chest again. "Don't flash me like that, pretty. It's gonna take a lot more of this for you to handle more than one round." He cradles you sideways, pressing your cheek to his chest and kissing the top of your head.

    "We're gonna have to shower again," you huff.

    The vibrations of Wire's chuckle roll beneath your cheek. "I'll clean up my mess. Don't worry your pretty little head about it. Just relax."

──── ⊹₊⟡⋆ [◉°] ⋆⟡₊⊹ ────

    Wire's shirt fits you like a dress, your shoulder nearly poking through the neckline. It's the last thing on your mind, though, as you lay tucked into his side, beneath his sheets. Soreness has already claimed its place between your thighs, but you couldn't care less. Despite the exhaustion pulling at your limbs, you're giddy, butterflies swarming your sore stomach.

    "I'm sorry," Wire hums in a whisper, "I didn't mean to confess so...-"

    "-Strongly? Erotically?" You giggle, keeping your voice low to not wake Heat; who's sleeping off a cross-fade on the opposite side of the room.

    "Yeah, something like that." Wire kisses your nose, then your lips. When he pulls away, you can see the adoration gleaming in his chocolate eyes, illuminated by dawning sky outside. You yawn, the smell of Wire's sheets combined with that of his freshly bathed skin lulling you to sleep.

    "Get some rest," he kisses your lips, then nose, then the top of your head. "We'll talk to Kidd in the afternoon.  I'm sure he'll be just as excited as the rest of the crew."

    "I hope so."

    As morning drapes itself over Kutsukku, you drift to sleep.

Kid:

You should have known better than to sit next to Kid. He could never keep his hands to himself and tonight was no different. It started with his arm draped over your shoulders, ever so innocently. Then his fingertips brushed across your nipple, possibly an accident. It was not accidental, however, when he squeezed the same breast. You shrugged away from his groping, rolling your eyes. This movie wasn't his pick, therefore he was bored.

Kid wrapped part of his coat around you, concealing the fact that his hand was creeping ever-steadily up your thigh. You clamped your knees together, giving him a warning glare. You did not want to be embarrassed in front of the others. You were sat between Kid and Killer. Heat and Wire were on a separate couch.

Kid's hand rested on your thigh until you had forgotten about it. You actually wanted to watch the movie. Your attention moved away from keeping your legs together, which is when Kid slipped his fingers up one side of your shorts, pushing your panties to the side. You had to bite your tongue to keep from yelping in surprise.

At first he lazily slid his fingers in and out of you. As the movie went on, you were glad it was loud. Maybe then Killer wouldn't hear how wet your cunt was. You could tell it was making sinfully sloppy squelches with every movement of Kid's thick fingers.

Towards the end of the movie, the others had noticed your face buried in Kid's side, and were making fun of you for being scared. Thank fuck Wire picked a horror film, otherwise they might realize you were stifling moans as you came in the palm of Kid's hand. You were even more grateful that Kid carried you off to his room afterward, so that no one could see that your shorts were completely soaked through.

Killer:

The best part about Killer's mask was that no one could tell what his facial expressions were. No one could tell that his eyes were closed and he wasn't watching the movie. No one could tell his mouth was opened slightly, breathing hard. No one could see how his face contorted in pleasure.

Sure, Killer swatted your hand away a few times. He actually looked forward to movie night and to testing his gourmet popcorn flavors. Maybe you had dropped a few pieces as you reached over his lap, just to rub your hand over the crotch of his sleep pants. There weren't enough comfy places to sit. You and Killer volunteered to sit on the floor so others could have a turn on the couch. Killer was leaned up against the side of the couch, and you were leaned up on the side of Killer. The couch blocked the two of you from view. Kid, as the captain, took up the entire couch himself, stretched across the entire thing. Luckily for you, his feet were towards you, so there was no danger of him peeking over the side to catch you in the act.

It only took a few kernels dropped in Killer's lap before you felt him get hard under your touch. He gave up trying to swat your hand away, even adjusting his position so that his cock was readily available for you to do with as you pleased. It was already about halfway through the movie. You ate popcorn with one hand and gave Killer a leisurely over-the-pants handjob with the other. You waited for him to start squirming. Your pace was slow on purpose, teasing him. When you felt him start subtly rocking his hips into your hand, you decided to give him a little more.

You had done some risky things, fighting marines, playing with guns, trusted some questionable farts, but nothing as daring as this. You acted like you were tired and wanted to rest your head in Killer's lap. In reality, you slipped his cock out of the fly of his pants and gave him head. You were careful not to be too vigorous or make too much noise. Killer even dared to talk when one of the others made a comment about the movie, voice unwavering.

During one of the louder scenes, you pushed things a little further, going at it a little faster. You could tell he was close when you felt his hand pushing your head. Killer must have liked it a whole lot more than he let on, because the load he pumped into your mouth was more than you expected. It was easy to blaming the coughing on a popcorn kernel stuck in your throat.

Heat:

Heat always had trouble sleeping. He was plagued with nightmares most nights. You had caught him awake a few times at varying hours of the night. Tonight was the same. You were having trouble sleeping yourself and decided to get a glass of water. One of the common rooms you passed by had a light on. It was the projector den den. You peeked your head in to see Heat, splayed out on the couch, half-watching a movie.

You didn't think you would be able to sleep anyway so you made a quiet knock on the doorframe. Heat glanced up and nodded a greeting. He didn't say anything but he sat up on the couch to make room for you. You plopped onto the opposite side of the couch.

Before long you were sliding down in your seat, drifting in and out of sleep. When you opened your eyes again, you had slipped lower. To your horror, you had your feet buried in Heat's side. They must have gotten cold when you were asleep. You hastily apologized and drew them back up under you.

Heat cleared his throat to get your attention and when you looked at him, he had his arm out, gesturing for you to sit closer. He knew you often got cold, but he had never offered to keep you warm like this. Unfortunately the comfort got very uncomfortable very quickly when the random movie he had put on had a rather long, steamy love scene in it. You knew you should have just stared straight ahead. So what? You were two buddies hanging out watching a movie. So what if there was sex in it? You were just pals watching some girl getting eaten out. So what?

Slowly, you turned to Heat, holding your breath, wondering what his face looked like watching it. You let your breath out, realizing he was already looking at you. You swallowed, staring at him, running your tongue over your lips. He stared too, like he was waiting for something. You leaned closer, giving him an almost imperceptible nod, just in case he wasn't thinking the same lecherous thoughts you were thinking.

As soon was he saw it, he was pressing his lips to yours, kissing you like he had been starving for it this entire time. It wasn't like you didn't also want it this badly. You were pulling him on top of you without a second thought. He kissed you lower and lower, moving from your neck to your stomach. You were only wearing an oversized sleep shirt over your panties and you were more than happy to kick those off so Heat could reenact the scene from the movie.

It turned out that your feet weren't the only things that liked the warmth of Heat's body. His mouth was even hotter, both literally and figuratively. The sensation between your folds was unreal. You put your shirt in your mouth as a gag. You didn't want to wake the whole ship. Heat had other ideas and gently removed it. He wanted to hear you when you finished on his tongue. There was nothing to mask it, since the movie had ended some time ago, but it seemed everyone was too deep in slumber to notice, or if they did, they never mentioned anything.

Wire:

Wire was always in the back. Because he was tall? Yes. But that wasn't the only reason. Wire liked to multitask when he watched movies. While the entire crew was watching the movie on the deck in front of him, he was making you squirm. Wire had you concealed in his cloak on his lap, just as you had his cock concealed inside of you.

Wire loved playing his games with you. He wanted to see how far you got in the movie before you were begging for him to move inside you or for him to take you inside to fuck you dumb. For now, you bit your lip and tried to keep your hips still. If you tried to move for some relief, he would turn on the vibrator that was up against your clit and make you scream in front of every person here. Wire wasn't shy. He would bend you over and fuck you in front of everyone if you asked. In fact, he would absolutely love for you to ask. He would settle for having his little cockwarmer in secret.

Just because you weren't allowed to move, didn't mean that he wasn't. The rules didn't apply to him. Every time you started to get comfortable, he would adjust himself, conveniently moving his hips to bury his cock deeper within your walls. One day, he knew he would get you to crack. He would make you beg him to fuck you right here, with an audience. Until then, the audience would have to settle for this mundane documentary on the ocean. Whoever picked this would be banned from picking a movie ever again.

The Commanders:

Some might call you greedy. You had been planning this for some time. Separately, you had invited Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire to come watch a movie with you. There were no false pretenses. You hinted at exactly what you wanted. The only thing was, they didn't know about the other three. You probably could have outright asked for group sex. You had hooked up with all of them on occasion, sometimes alone, sometimes not. You just weren't sure how to ask, or maybe you were self-conscious about asking.

It turned out they already knew what the deal was when they turned up. They had all either brought it up casually or were outright bragging, in Kid's case, about having a night alone with you. There was still a surprise though. You didn't actually want to watch a movie. You wanted to make a movie, just in case this was a one-time event.

One thing about the Kid, Killer, Heat, and Wire was that they were all more than happy to make your fantasies a reality, and they wouldn't judge you for it either, nor consider you greedy. The only thing they had a hard time agreeing on, was who went first. You were eager to jump right in, but Wire was a stickler for discussing terms and conditions of all kinky sexual encounters. When everyone's preferences, yes's, no's, maybe's, and safe words were clear, Wire allowed everyone to start.

Since it was your idea, your fantasy, they decided that you should determine the order. First, you wanted to have everyone individually while the other three watched, starting with the captain, out of respect of course. Normally when you hooked up, your flings consisted of mostly quickies. You had always wanted to take your time, ride him, watch him become impatient, and thrust up into you, so that's exactly what you did. Kid couldn't stop himself from grabbing your hips and pulling them down onto his cock at an increasing rate until he came. With Wire, you had never had vanilla, missionary sex. Halfway through, you asked him to fuck you doggy style. It felt weird to maintain eye contact with him when most of the time you were with him you were blindfolded or hogtied or consensually incapacitated. With Heat, you loved when he was rough with you, but he rarely wanted to be. He preferred to be on the receiving end of roughness. You had to guide his hands to choke you how you liked and give him a bit of encouragement to spank you. Meanwhile, Wire was practically foaming at the mouth to take over for him. Killer had waited patiently for his turn. His favorite thing was to eat you out, so you obliged him. You weren't going to be left out though. While you smothered him with your cunt, your tongue played with as much of his cock as you could reach. When you had your fill of being the boss, you handed the reigns over to them, letting them handle you how they wanted to, all within your boundaries.

Kid and Killer tag teamed you, as did Wire and Heat. They used every hole that you asked them to and as many times as you asked. Maybe it was more begging than asking at that point. They used you in every way that you or they could come up with. You wanted them to keep going for as long as they possibly could, until they couldn't nut anymore. You wanted to be a fucked out, dripping cum dump and you wanted it all to be on film so you could relive it as many times as you wanted to. Granted, they would have happily obliged you for many more nights like this one.

Hours had passed before it was over. As expected, Wire was the last one to tap out. You had gotten exactly what you wanted. You could barely move, or think for that matter. Cum had probably touched every inch of your body. As exhausted as everyone was, Killer made sure everyone was hydrated, and had fixed a small snack. Heat helped clean everyone off. Kid was sure to tell everyone what they could have done better. Wire praised you for how well you handled marathon sex, and made sure that everything was how you wanted it to be. You had never stuck around long enough to discover this, but it turned out they were all a little clingy after intense sexual encounters. Kid had wrapped his arm around you and hadn't let you go since. Killer was rubbing his back. Heat gave your head an affectionate pet. Wire was still there, which counted as being clingy in his world.