One of the guys (seriously, anyone is fine. I don't mind if it's one of big three or the more minor boys) gets strapped to a bed with a vibrating buttplug inside them. Whether they get freed or not by someone else is up to you, I just want them really hurting by the end of it.

Written in response to an avengerkink prompt that requested Steve dealing with depression over his lost time and having a bout of breaking down.

Overhead, light flows across the ceiling, expanding and contracting like a slow pulse matching his own. His eyes are heavy and growing heavier with as indeterminate time passes. The pile of clothes under him shifts, his back arches further to accommodate it, he's drifting, comfortable and pulsing like these little specks of light on the ceiling. Slow and dimmed at first, Gamzee becomes aware of of his hand lying on his stomach.

"Luf--fy!" Nami sings out. "It's tiiiime!" The rubber whirlwind bounces into the room and pings off three walls on its way to the bed. "Zoro! Hey, Zoro, are you okay? Did they give you MEAT yet, because I told them they should. Can I get you--"