fanaticpiece - Tumblr blog

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Text

I hate you (not really)

Rob Lucci x fem!reader

Your brother Paulie has been talking a lot about his new friends from work, so you decide to meet them. You didn't expect a secret to last so long.

note: allusion to sex. brother!paulie. cook!reader. pregnancy. little dialogue. ambiguous relationship. lucci is a horrible sexist. water7 spoiler.

wc: 5k

Paulie had been talking about his new coworkers for months every time he visited you, he talked so much about his new friends that you were curious about them. Your older brother had recently installed a new oven in your small home, happy you had baked dishes of all kinds until there was no place to keep it. You prepared a large amount of viands full of food, taking the opportunity to feed your brother and meet his friends.

The path to the current construction site was a bit difficult, struggling with the large number of containers, luckily you met Iceburg, your brother's boss, halfway and he helped you with everything. Paulie and his co-workers turned to you as a wave of polite greetings and words of thanks echoed throughout the place. Your brother shouted your name happily when saw you arrive just before lunchtime, handing out trays of food to everyone at the construction site. Excitedly Paulie invite everyone to come to you.

"This is my little sister" he presented to you proudly surrounding your body by the shoulders. "She has a cook house near the capital, she's an incredible cook!"

"It's a pleasure," you greeted politely and distributed portions to each one, sneakily paying attention to the strangers. You really wanted to meet his friends.

The first one who approached had a remarkable nose and almost ripped the food out of your hands, you laughed a little as you heard his stomach growl. Behind him came more, all had something about their appearance that made them stand out, with just one look you could tell that they were foreigners, but all looked friendly. However, the one who really caught your attention was the man with black hair, a serious look and a white dove on his shoulder. He was an attractive man, but that wasn't what caught you; was the way this mysterious man looked too elegant and refined, even in work clothes. Like he didn't belong there. Although it was also the way he looked right into your soul when you extended the tray towards him. You were scared when the Dove thanked you for him. Rob Lucci, you understood he's, the good mute man Paulie had told you about.

Back home and for the next few days you couldn't stop thinking about those dark orbs above you. There was something about it that followed you into your dreams. The sensation was such that you felt watched for a long time, as if someone was watching you. You didn't mention it to anyone, much less your overprotective brother. You attributed everything to your paranoia, that man had affected you in an incomprehensible way and your imagination was always active. You were just exaggerating.

In the years that you have been cooking you have become friends with the best food merchant. Three times a week and Saturdays, before the sun even rises, you make your way to the suppliers' market and fill your hands and the small cart you have with fresh and best meats, fish, chicken, vegetables, fruits and condiments. Your small family is adored on your island; Paulie is a man respected for his work and you're loved for feeding the people even when that means great sacrifices sometimes.

Continued with your normal life for a few more weeks. The pigeon man effect came back to you every time Paulie mentioned him, which was to say two or three times a week. You stood before him as if he were talking about any other of his friends, as if the mere memory of that man didn't keep you awake. And you don't understand it. Have you ever felt like this, you can't identify the feeling. It's not fear, nor rejection, much less sympathy or something else. You've been in love before, and you know it doesn't feel like that. It's a whole new experience, and a little unsettling. However, you did not see him again and little by little, your life returned to normal. Or so you thought until one Saturday morning.

That Saturday morning the streets were beginning to move when you returned from the market. Your hands were heavy and you struggled to push the also full cart; several merchants had given you extra merchandise. At one point you almost threw everything to the ground, but luckily for you a strong hand stops your fall. Your eyes wild when the man you've been trying not to think about appears in front of you.

"Oh, thank you" you thank him, a little surprised and recover from the almost blow. For a second you two are just there, standing and silent. It's awkward, you don't know what else to say.

Lucci stared at you, drinking in your beauty. He has met a lot of beautiful women, but no one like you. Maybe it's because of the strength you have, physical and mental. He has seen you work hard not only for your business, also for all those less fortunate. He hate how bleeding your heart is. Always willing to turn the other cheek, always willing to be trampled if it helped someone. He hate you and wished he could be the only one you could trample, be the only one you would dedicate so much benevolence to. Don't get it wrong, Rob Lucci will never feel affection for a simple cook, it's more of a capricious matter. He saw a cute and pure toy and just wants to break it.

Then he took your cart and pushed it without saying a word to where he knew you lived. You were so stupid that you didn't question beyond the initial surprise and followed him like a lost dog. Along the way you thought many times about a comment or thanks, but your voice didn't come out. You followed him almost in a dream, not entirely sure what was really happening. You both reached the small fence that surrounded your home and it was the white dove that made you notice it with a small screech. Clumsily you opened the door and before you could thank him and say goodbye, the man pushed you aside and entered to the back door, next to the orchard. Even in your own home, you followed him as if he were the owner and lord. You opened the door entering your home, and in silence took out and put each merchandise in its place. You didn't question.

It was almost natural how he moved through your house, like he knew every inch even though it was his first time entering, but at the same time it felt so... domestic. The silence between you wasn't awkward, his mere presence around you was enough.

"Thank you very much, you have been a great help" you thank once have finished, with a small bow. The clock behind his body pointed out that noon was approaching, how long had you been together?

Lucci watched you with a voracious hunger, looking like a small lamb, adorable and pure, he wanted to sink his ferocious wolf fangs into your tender skin. His hunger for you was so great that you got confused and thought he was really hungry. You felt guilty, the man wasted his Saturday morning helping you, you felt the need to repay him. Didn't hesitate to point to the two-piece couch in the small living room, inviting him to take a seat while you made a cup of coffee. Lucci didn't take his eyes off you.

“Here,” you handed him the coffee along with a piece of carrot cake. "Let me repay you for your kind help with a lunch, please" you smiled kindly, but still a little nervous. "Would you like anything in particular? Any allergies?" Lucci just shook his head, but the bird in his head looked just as hungry. "Can I serve the pigeon something?"

"Cake" answered the bird, frightening you a little. Your brother had warned you about it, but you didn't expect it to be real. Without saying anything, you served a piece for the bird, being a little impressed when he came down from where was and prepared to eat more delicately than you expected.

Humming, you left the man on your couch and prepared to cook your best dish, with other delight to accompany. You were thankful you hadn't eaten the strawberries and cream pie last night, it would be a perfect dessert. Don't know why, but you really wanted to impress Lucci. You just weren't aware that you had already done it.

He watched as you moved with such ease and naturalness, there is something in the traditional and homely image of you cooking just for him, while he waited on the couch. He would prefer a glass of wine instead of coffee, but is merciful and forgives you. And you turn on something so annoying and exciting in him that he can barely control seeing you just a few meters away and not destroying you as he would like. You were the most desirable prey.

All those times he heard Paulie talk about you he didn't care, you sounded like a weak and clumsy woman. Then he saw you, you are just as your relative described you. You look like the most beautiful flower in the middle of shit. It's not fair how a peasant girl could look and move like a damn princess. The first thing he felt when saw you was disinterest, a certain rejection, until he noticed that behind that look there was an intense fire. And he wanted to burn himself.

You were harmonizing with the noises of the waves and pans, your body gently dancing on your bare feet. The midday sun illuminated your agile hands that cut vegetables and meat without problems. You maintained order and cleanliness during the process. The pastel light blue apron accentuated your hips and chest. You had pulled your hair up into a messy bun that accentuated your fine features. And you were cooking for him. It was all a damn fantasy.

The sweet sounds of your lips continued as you set the table and took out the food. It was like you didn't know he was there, stalking your every move, but you still set out two plates, two glasses, and two sets of cutlery. You left two fresh roses in a small vase right in the center of the table.

You broke the silence only once, when you asked him if he drank wine, explaining quickly and simply that white wine was the ideal companion for the daily menu. He accepted the drink you gave him minutes before the food was ready, the rest was already prepared. Intriguingly he watched you drop into the small armchair in front of him, face tired but happy, taking a large gulp from your own glass. The sound you made made him squeeze the glass in his hand almost until it broke. It was so delicious, but not as delicious as the image of you so messy and satisfied. He imagined other activities that could leave you the same.

Your lazy smile was tempting, but his self-control was unbreakable. He wouldn't fall easily for a peasant girl.

Lunch was better than I expected, a hot meal made with such dedication could only taste like heaven. Both ate in silence, a comfortable silence. And Lucci was even so merciful that he washed the dishes. His control began to slip when you bumped his hips with yours as you took out the plates, he looked at you with a raised eyebrow and you returned his gaze with a wink and a smile.

"You know, you're not as intimidating as you look," you laughed and walked away to make two cups of coffee.

Poor deluded woman, Lucci thought, seeing how easily you let your guard down around him, if only you knew...

The breaking point was when he tried the strawberry pie. Two cups of coffee on the small coffee table, both sitting in the same chair as before, the wine must have had an effect on you. You were more daring with personal space. A grunting sound came out of his throat without being able to contain it when he took the first bite. You had a gift in cooking, especially in sweets. The taste plus the sparkle in your eyes at his reaction, how you get closer to his body and the mischievous smile on your face.

"I'm glad you like it," you said before poking a piece of your own cake and bringing it to your lips. A gesture so mundane that it warmed the man's blood like never before. And he couldn't contain himself anymore.

He silently took both plates of cake and set them down next to the coffee. You looked at him confused by his calm and unexpected reaction, but it was his continuous action that left you breathless. His hand, large, strong and too soft for a carpenter, tangled in your hair, cupping the back of your neck and with determination he pushed you until your scholarships met in a needy kiss. It was really unexpected and it took you a while to react, tangling your own fingers in his dark curls and sighing against his lips. The sweet taste of your mouth along with the sigh led him to roar again like an animal, pushing your body against his.

That night he devoured you whole, drunk on your sweet and addictive flavor. He is not a man who prefers sweets, but he could die in your taste. And what a fighter you were, he was not wrong when he read that fire in your eyes. How could a little thing like you be so dangerous?

If before you couldn't stop thinking about Lucci, after such an explosion of emotions, he not only lived in your mind, but in your body as well. You had to wear warm clothes in the summer, hiding their marks. Your body ached and itched for days, but it was worth every second. Besides, you weren't the only one who had to cover up. Your nails and teeth marked his body. It was like being in the cage with a big cat, it scared you, but it also filled you with adrenaline. The sensation was too much.

But the next day, during your Sunday family lunch, you couldn't help the guilt that filled you. You felt like a traitor, keeping your meeting a secret from his coworker. Paulie didn't deserve lies, but you didn't want to say it either. It was better to just avoid any topic in relation to what happened. You and Lucci hadn't fixed anything, but it felt good that it just stared 9 between the two of you. A secret. Something you swore would never happen again, it just happened again and again.

The next Saturday you were surprised to find the man and his faithful dove waiting a few blocks from the market. He silently took your purchases, as he had done before, and walked you home. With a knowing look, full of longing and need, both became involved in an almost religious routine. Every Saturday, from that day, Lucci waited for you. Sometimes he helped you with shopping and other times just at the door of your home, but he was almost always there. Then, he would accompany while you prepared lunch, and then eat together. Little by little you began to be the one who spoke occasionally, telling him about the dish you prepared or something without much relevance, but normally preferred silence. Afterwards he was so considerate about cleaning up for you, and then Lucci would finally go back to devouring his favorite cake. You.

There were days when he wouldn't even let you take off your sandals, dragging you to the nearest wall, in painful hunger. Lucci simply needed you. Not only were you something delicious to eat, something he could break and bend as he pleased, you also had a character in bed that drove him crazy, but not as crazy as seeing you be so domestic. Seeing you cook for him was a big switch, as much as knowing that you were more than that carpenter's sweet little sister. And you're so smart, you always know how to read it perfectly. Lucci is sure that you're a great reward for your hard and impeccable work.

Shared the secret for almost two years, and both were fine with your agreement. The Saturday visits began to increase until we had meetings two or three times in a week. If you're honest, you were surprised at how well kept the secret. The only suspicion was reduced to Lucci's chivalry in helping you with the heavy shopping bags. What didn't surprise you, but did scare you, was when you noticed how bulging your belly was. It was while you were changing that you noticed the tiny swelling and you started to do the math, three months had passed since your last period. Despite the lack of other symptoms, there was no question. One of the town's doctors, a childhood friend of yours, was kind enough to affirm your suspicions and keep it a secret. The revelation felt like a blow. What would you do with a baby? What would you say to Pauile? How would Lucci react? You vomited from anguish.

That week, to your anguish and relief, Lucci didn't show up. You had heard your brother talking about a group of pirates and the request for a big ship. They were very busy, and it went on like that for a few days. He didn't come back, which a large part of you felt relieved, you had enough fighting with the anxiety caused by having to continue acting as usual. Even keeping a relationship a secret wasn't all that suffocating. Relationship. The word made you laugh. Were you and Lucci even in a relationship? No. His was a simple... you don't know what to even call it. You weren't together, but you two weren't separated either. You didn't have a title, but were still exclusive.

He never told you that you were the only one, but women used to come to your store to talk and cry often. Lucci rejected any woman brave enough to speak to him. He rejected them through his dove. Knowing this didn't fill you with pride, but it didn't seem funny or outrageous to you either. It was weird. In the words of many, you should feel flattered to be chosen as worthy of his time, but you know better, you know that it is not something to be happy about. You think about the times he has come to you in the wee hours of the morning, hungrier than ever, for you and your delights. The first time it happened you were a little scared, he seemed blind with need, not enough pity to not hurt you or make you uncomfortable, but there was something in his eyes that scared you to the core. There was darkness in his eyes. Black and thick. You didn't think there was any light there.

So why were you still allowing all that if it scared you? If you're honest with yourself, the pleasure and adrenaline of tasting a forbidden apple was gratifying, but as the months passed you began to feel comfortable around it. Comfortable in a deeper sense. It was difficult for you to think about your life before his arrival, boring and monotonous, empty. Loneliness. You're happy, you love and are loved, you have a good life. But you feel alone. Somehow it felt good to have Lucci around, even when he wasn't present his essence remained there. It felt right, like both of you were destined for this secret game. It was strange, you couldn't think about your future with Lucci either. Something about him told you how ephemeral he was. And you took it anyway. You accepted it knowing the ending. You wanted him even knowing how short he would last by your side.

A child wouldn't change things, something in you knew that. His was destined for this simple game, for an ever-closer end. Neither of you were made to love like that, with the intensity and devotion of the soul. You weren't sure if your hearts could give. You love and you are loved, but to love romantically... You had thought a lot about it, reaching a simple conclusion, a promise. You promised yourself, no matter what would happen, you would love the life growing inside you with all your heart. You wouldn't let him ever feel less than love.

Lucci returns one night, he is wearing a white suit instead of his usual work clothes. His loose hair highlights his features and you have never seen him more attractive. Your belly has begun to show, it is beginning to be difficult to hide. He has a look that makes you feel a little sick, a distressing feeling invades you. You have to tell him that night. It didn't matter how he would take it, whether he would stay or go, you just wanted him to know. Do not feel regret in the future. But don't get the chance.

An atrocious hunger invaded him the last few days, a hunger for you. He doesn't know what's got him like this, unless he's thinking about you and your touch. What bothers him. You have no control over his thoughts, they just are yours. What increases his anger is that they aren't images of you in the privacy of your room, no. Are images of you cooking for him, of the way you look at him over the top of your coffee cup, the way you move around him so delicately and the way you smile at him, kind but sly. He hates it so much.

Thinks about recent events, that his mission is coming to end. What will happen to you? Knows that he will have to leave you behind, that if you knew the truth you would hate him with all your kind heart. A part of him, that animal instinct, wants to take you with him. And he hates himself for it. Someone like you would never fit into his life. So, he has to leave you here. Where he couldn't go back. If it was going to be the last night he could dedicate to you, Lucci wasn't going to waste it.

And maybe it's the weeks apart, but tonight you look more charming than ever. You're wearing a light dress with a wool cardigan, autumn has started to arrive. You have your hair tied high and it looks like you're about to get ready for bed. The way you look at him is too much for not to lunge forward and kiss you with all his being. Lucci thinks there is no more magical elixir than your lips.

In a mutual and silent agreement, as your relationship was, both agreed to one last night together. It wasn't sex, but it wasn't love either. It was a surrender and a forgiveness.

When you both fell exhausted onto your bed, you were surprised when his arms surrounded you with a tenderness never experienced. You looked at him, lying next to you, cold eyes fixed on you. Your hand went up to his face on its own and you carefully brushed a rebellious curl from his beautiful face. You wondered if the child you're carrying will inherit her silky hair. Would you like that. As always since you accepted the life that grows in your other hand, caress your belly, but there is already another hand there. A much bigger and stronger one. Eyes meet again. You can see his brow furrow slightly, noticing the disturbance in your body. You swallow hard before turning to face each other. The hand on his face strokes it one last time before joining the hands on your stomach.

"I'm pregnant" you blurt out like a whisper. A tense silence stretches between the two of you. It's the first time that silence is uncomfortable. His eyes turn to stone and before you can think about it, he finds you smiling. His frown deepens. “It's okay,” you add and turn to look at the ceiling. "You don't have to do anything, I just wanted you to know."

Lucci hates you. He hates the way you can read him, the way you know him, the way you accept everything without complaint. You settle for so little. You would never be worthy of being by his side, he thinks sarcastically, the idea of taking you with him was absurd. You weren't enough for him. And he hate you so much, because he knew that you were really too much for this world. You accept what you can, because... what else can you do? You were aware from the beginning what your relationship meant, you know that he won't stay and that he won't love you, you know it and that's why you never expected more from him than what he gave you. And Lucci had continued with this agreement until now for that reason. So, why was he so disappointed in your words? He hates you a lot. But hates more the fact that he can't hate you.

He feels disgusting when gets out of your bed and gets dressed. You don't move from your spot, you look so calm while he swears exhaling smoke from his nose. How could you be okay with this? It's like you knew he was about to leave you forever and you decided to drop that bomb in revenge. But, Lucci knows that that is not possible, your heart is too big for that. Seeing you there, from his imposing height, he wonders, not for the first time, how a human body could house such a huge heart. Lucci wanted to hate you so much.

His gaze fell on your barely grown belly. Your son. His seed. And hate that he can't doubt of your words. That being grew in you was a product of both of you. Consequence of a secret. Eyes met once again as you sat in the middle of the bed, hugging your knees and resting your head on it. You are beautiful.

"I'm leaving" Lucci blurted out and hate that you weren't surprised by the fact that he could talk all this time. You nodded slowly.

"I know" your smile shouldn't be so sweet. "Don't worry, we'll be fine."

He wants to mock you, to say that he would never care about you or the fetus, but can't. His tongue is heavy. Fine? He doesn't believe that your good reputation is enough to keep you from becoming an outcast to society. Single mothers are nothing more than abandoned whores. Your brother will reject you. You will be alone with a bastard in this world and will be unhappy for the rest of your life. Or that's what Lucci tells himself, looking for meaningless excuses to alleviate how disgusting he feels because deep down, knows the truth. You are loved by everyone, the people and your brother will never leave you alone. You and the baby will grow up surrounded by love and will have a peaceful life. A life that he can never give you.

“You can leave in peace,” you tell and something breaks in him.

Why aren't you begging him to stay? Why don't you pray for his love, for his attention? Why don't you cry and curse him? Why are you trying to make him feel better?

With one last look, Rob Lucci walks out of your life.

Rob Lucci, a member of CP-0, decides to take a short solo trip before embarking on an important mission for the World Government. Water 7, the Water Capital, is one of the largest islands, famous for unique geography and his carpenters, experts in shipbuilding. A few years ago Lucci lived here under a false identity, where he met a young woman who poisoned him with her delicious dishes and sweet smile. The poison ran through the man's veins from the moment he tasted her lips, a majestic elixir. The poison didn't kill him, but condemn him to a life full of memories. His mind no longer belonged to he, from then on it was only hers.

Lucci had not seen her since left the city, nor did he want to know anything more about the two of them. The woman and the child. Until now.

From his hiding place Lucci observed the sequence in front of his eyes with some type of nostalgia. Early in the morning your windows opened and let in the sun. With the same grace and delicacy that he remembers, watches you sway around your kitchen - the same kitchen in which you shared so many memories- preparing breakfast, humming one of your sweet melodies. It's a Saturday morning, years ago he should have been there too, helping to unpack your purchases and then sharing a cup of coffee and admiring you while you cook lunch for both of you. Today you're alone in the kitchen, but look as calm and happy as ever.

The back door bursts open, gaining the man's attention. A girl runs out, basket in hand, falling in the dirt a couple of times. He hears you laugh as watch her through the open window. The girl doesn't change and runs to the small garden, determined to look for her homework every morning. Lucci recognized her immediately, perhaps because the mop of dark curls were easy to identify. She also shared the sharp nose with his father, the rest was all yours. Lucci didn't like children, but couldn't help find the little one adorable as she squealed happily when her little basket was filled with fresh fruits for breakfast.

He wondered, not for the first time, what would things be like if it had been different? How would things be? But there was no point in thinking about it. You two would never be enough for him. He hated you both.

Or so he told himself every time remembered you.

#one piece x reader #rob lucci x reader #x reader #one piece #rob lucci #☆ cami

294 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Text

Imagine meeting Rob Lucci again on Egghead Island

Warning: Contains spoilers! If you aren't caught up in the Egghead arc and don't want spoilers, don't read.

Rob: [tied up and unconscious on the floor of Vegapunk's lab]

You: [glaring at him from the other side of the room]

Stussy: Oh my, that's quite a scary look. It's almost like you know him.

You: I do know him, or at least I thought I did... A little over two years ago I lived on Water 7 where I worked for an engineering firm, and had a life, and a boyfriend.

Stussy: {looks shocked and points at Rob] Was he your boyfriend?

You: Yup, but I got transferred here shortly before he tried to kill Iceberg, who is my adoptive father. We used to exchange letters, and then one day they just stopped, and then three weeks later I got a letter from Iceberg that explained everything.

Stussy: That must have come as quite a shock.

Kaku: [wakes up] what the? [looks around, before cringing away when he notices you] oh dear.

You: [glares] Is that all you have to say to me?

Kaku: Listen, it was just a job, it wasn't personal.

You: Really? Because trying to murder members of my family feels really personal to me, buddy.

Kaku: [Nods to Robin] Technically, she shot Iceberg.

Robin: I shot him the first time, and I didn't feel I had another choice because you were threatening my friends and I didn't know what to do.

You: The second time was Blueno, and then you and Rob beat Paulie, and then left both Iceburg and Paulie tied up inside a burning building!

Kaku: we did do that, didn't we...

You: not to mention Rob played with my feelings by pretending to be a loving boyfriend.

Kaku: I swear that wasn't pretended Lucci really does love~

Rob: That's enough, Kaku.

You: You can talk! Why am I surprised, everything was a lie, wasn't it?

Rob: .... not everything [looks up at you, clearly pouting that he's being admonished]

You: I don't believe you.

Rob: ... can we discuss this in private, please?

You: no, we can't, I do not want to be alone with the World Noble's attack dog.

Rob: I'm a cat.

You: Excuse me?

Rob: I am a Zoan-type devil fruit user, the Neko Neko no Mi, Model: Leopard, specifically.

You: I don't care, because then you're just plain bad at being a cat.

Rob: Bad at being a cat!

You: yes, because if you knew a damn thing about cats, then you'd know you don't ever actually own a cat, you just live with one. They don't listen, they don't obey, and they most certainly don't respect you. So, I suppose, you were good at being a cat when it came to me, but bad when it comes to the world nobles.

Rob: That's not true...

You: save it, I don't want to hear your excuses.

Rob: [Takes a deep breath] They're not excuses, it's true I got close to you in the first place because of Iceberg, but I grew genuine feelings for you once I got to know you. I know I hurt you, it's why I stopped writing you after what happened in Water 7.

Nami: And because his ego was bruised because our captain whooped his ass.

Kaku: He was also in a coma for like a week afterward.

Rob: I figured by then you would have already had word from Water 7 of what happened, so I didn't want to rub salt into the wounds by trying to stay in your life, and that a clean cut was best for you.

You: [remembering that Iceberg had said he wouldn't be upset with you if you elected to stay with Rob] ... Where is Hattori?

Rob: what?

You: Where is Hattori?

Rob: He flew away when Stussy attacked.

You: I'll go get him...

Rob: [smirks[ thank you, I'm sure he'll be happy to see you again. Although he might not recognize you, you've glowed up since your Water 7 days. [winks]

You: [rolls your eyes] I know single life suits me, so save your smooth talk tough guy, it doesn't work on me [lying].

Rob: uh huh

You: [feels your cheeks heat up as your heart flutters, and you avoid eye contact with Lucci] Whatever, I'll go look for your bloody bird.

Rob: [eagerly watches the door slide shut behind you] It's still there

Stussy: What's still there?

Rob: I believe most people call it, "a spark between us'.

Nami: [dramatically gags]

Kaku: Dude, they always liked Hattori more than you, don't go getting a head of yourself.

Rob: [kicks him] zip it.

Stussy: [sighs] men are so stupid.

Robin: [nods in agreement]

Shaka: [judges in silence]

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

657 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Aw, thank you! Of course, here's my top 5 so far:

Captive [Eustass Kid x reader]: reader is a marine officer that gets captured by the Kid Pirates. Definitely for a mature audience.

Mudblood [One Piece x Hogwarts AU, reader-insert]: reader is at her 6th year in Hogwarts when the Triwizard Tournament gets renewed. This will stir things up and creates many maaaany problems to all the students (and teachers) involved. Basically all OP characters sorted in their Houses

Hallelujah [Kid x reader x Law]: no description for this, go read it if you want

Addicts [Denjiro/Kyoshiro x reader]: reader is a CP-0 agent sent to negotiate with Orochi

Monsters [Arlong x reader]: reader is yet again a CP-0 agent that buys Arlong from slavery

#eustass kid x reader #captive #trafalgar law x reader #denjiro x reader #kyoshiro x reader #one piece hogwarts #arlong x reader

117 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Note

i need stoner!aokiji fic PLEASE

✧.* art credit!

➤ pairing: aokiji (kuzan) x afab!reader

➤ word count: 836

➤ warnings: drug use, established relationship, pre-timeskip aokiji, cockwarming, nipple play, oral (f receiving), temperature play (it's inevitable), voyeurism, brief mention of kizaru x reader

sorry i took forever to write this... i'm STARVED for aokiji content with where i am in the anime right now but he showed up for 5 seconds in a filler arc so now i'm ready to go :3

written in headcanon-ish bullet format!

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

Aokiji is laid-back and lazy all the time so it's hard to tell when he's stoned or not. Sometimes you'll come back to your shared place at Navy HQ to find the entire house reeking of weed, your boyfriend relaxing on the couch with his long legs spread wide and smoke pouring from his lips. He greets you with a casual "yo" and offers you his half-smoked blunt.

He is canonically a boobs man. You sit in his lap, cockwarming his massive dick, as he slips one of his big hands under your bra to fondle your right tit like a stress ball, squeezing and kneading at the soft skin.

He peers over your shoulder to skim the daily newspaper with hazy, unfocused eyes. Pretends to glance at the Navy papers he's supposed to look over (his ass is NOT reading!). Eventually, he gives up and pulls off your shirt and bra to really play with your tits.

Grabbing them hard enough for flesh to spill out between the cracks of his fingers, rolling them around and jiggling them. His chilly breath tickles your ear as his cold fingers tweak your nipples until they're stiff. He twists one harshly to hear you gasp, then chuckles and soothes it by rubbing his thumb gently over the areola.

When you inevitably get cotton mouth, he pushes two fingers between your lips and lets you swirl your tongue around them as if they're ice cubes. If it gets really bad, he'll actually create ice for you to suck on. Any part of him inside you turns him on, even if it's from his abilities.

Lazy man does drug that makes him lazier… he is horizontal the entire night. Good thing you love sitting on his face!

Aokiji’s strong hands grip your thighs and hold you flush against his face, drowning himself in your wet cunt. He slurps noisily at your juices, licking and kissing all over your vulva. Makes sure to wrap his plush lips around your clit, tonguing at the sensitive bud and sucking on it like his life depends on it.

Every sensation is intensified by the eternal iciness of his body. You cry out his name as he fucks you with his cold, slick tongue. You can’t help but grind on his face, losing yourself to pleasure and the haziness of marijuana. You almost feel bad for practically suffocating him until he groans, “Just like that, baby. Ride my face with that cute little pussy.”

He moans when you cum, slick gushing all over his lips and chin. Your chest heaves as you crawl off of him with shaky legs and plop down on the bed next to him. “Shit. Delicious as always, baby,” he drawls as he grabs a new blunt and lights it. “Alright, hop on my dick.”

You roll your eyes — he’s just so romantic. You’d already ridden him reverse cowgirl style after he got tired of cockwarming, but his dick was back at full hardness just from eating your pussy. You don’t think he even touched himself during it.

So you do as he asks, the weed making you especially horny, anyways. Wispy smoke pours from your parted lips as you lazily grind on his fat cock, stretching your insides deliciously and filling you up so good.

Slow and lazy sex is kinda his thing, unless he’s riled up from a particularly difficult assignment. (And even then, he has time to calm down on his lethargic bike ride home. You think it’s just an excuse to fuck you dumb.)

Aokiji sits up on his elbows to suck your nipples messily, spit running down the swell of your breast. Making obscene slurping noises that have your eyes rolling back into your head. When he gets close, he thumbs your clit in tight circles to make sure you cum together.

You moan and throw your head back as your third orgasm of the night washes over you. He lets out the deepest, sexiest moan as his cum fills you up to the brim.

He’s snoring two minutes later. You shuffle to get out of bed and grab a snack, but his strong arms wrap around your waist, spooning you from behind. Guess you’re stuck there!

Kizaru is his dealer (the true stoner king of the Marines) and somehow always gets the highest quality weed. He usually comes over for a smoke sesh with you and Aokiji when he gets a new strain he thinks you'll enjoy. He likes to watch the two of you fuck, sitting across the room watching attentively from behind his sunglasses and palming the fat bulge in his pants. Sometimes he asks to join in. It's up to you to decide -- Aokiji doesn't care either way, as long as one of your tight holes is wrapped around his cock.

(Akainu always screams at them when they show up to work high. Neither of them care. Threatens to snitch to Sengoku but Kizaru sold him an ounce last week so 🤷‍♀️)

#marijuana exists in the op universe bc i said so #request #anon #aokiji x reader #aokiji smut #kuzan x reader #kuzan smut #aokiji #kuzan #one piece x reader #one piece smut #kizaru x reader

450 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Text

There is not a universe where Luffy is planned

At this time period crocodile and dragon were serious but hadn’t met each others parents yet

Should I do a meet the parents?

Anyway dragon goes away on tour for at least 3-4 months out of the year and it just so happened to coincide with a very busy time for baroque works (crocodile went on autopilot, figured it was just some weight gain from all the takeout and late nights (he’s very smart but also very stupid)

661 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Text

ten years later

monkey d garp x afab!reader | fluff + smut | ~2.4k words

warnings: SPOILER ALERT FOR MARINEFORD, suggestive themes + smut throughout !! use of daddy/baby girl, blow jobs, vaginal sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, cum trapping, creampie

a/n: everyone stfu okay i KNOW he’s 78 yo but HOT DAMN this grandpa could rUIN MY SHIT. RUIN IT. idgaf. anyways, happy birthday to my favorite sugar daddy 🥳😍🤤

18+ MDNI

you had first met garp when he had dragged luffy from windmill village. you had seen an angry man, pinching the rubber cheek of the town’s notorious future king of the pirates and taking the child off to the mountains. everyone was giggling at the banter of the two as they set on the path to the mountains, but you were just staring at the broad back of the silver haired man.

“who's that?” you had whispered to makino. she just giggled at you.

“that’s garp, he's luffy’s grandfather and a vice admiral in the marines.”

you cocked your eyebrow in disbelief, watching as garp argued with luffy like he was also seven years old. you chuckled.

“that man’s a vice admiral in the marines?”

you were fascinated and a bit smitten with him. the silver hair on his head ending in a pointed widow’s peak on his forehead, shaggy hair of the same color above and below his lips, and his broad shoulders and chest. you were young, an adult but still young, and he clearly wasn't.

nonetheless, you had waited for him to come back down from the mountain, watching the docks for his return everyday after he ascended the mountain. your patience had been fruitful, and you had run out to meet garp as he was untethering a smaller fishing boat from the docks. he had a bag with him.

“where's luffy?” you had asked breathlessly, your hair wind whipped from the way you ran. garp looked up at you with an amused grin, straightening himself to tower over you.

“dropped him off with some friends, they'll take care of him.” garp looked you up and down. “you know him?”

“of course, everyone in town knows him.” you grin back. “though, right now, i'm more interested in getting to know his grandpa.”

garp’s eyebrows rose in smug surprise. “me?” he stepped off the fishing boat, the wood creaking in protest beneath his weight as he stepped onto the deck to get a closer look at you. “and why’s a pretty young thing like you wanting to get to know an old man like me?”

the way garp had looked at you that day made you confess everything to him. you offered him your house, your bed, your body, whatever he wanted whenever he came back to windmill village. he had just laughed loudly, patting your head with a huge grin on his face.

“wait ten years,” he had told you, “and if you're still interested, I'll show you a good time.”

everyone is silent. the mountain bandit who had raised luffy and ace is unleashing her anger on garp and makino is standing beside you as you both watch in horror. the man you had come to know and love is sitting and taking it, a shameful look on his face.

eventually, makino steps in to split up the fight and you grab garp’s hand and take him to your home, a place he had visited many times over the past ten years. but only for food or drink or conversation, or even an overnight stay on your couch.

garp is passive as you drag him to your living room and sit him down on the couch. you ruminate on what he had done, why everyone is mad at him, all while you make some tea for the both of you. you cover the bottom of garp’s cup with honey, just like you knew he loves it, and hand the steaming cup to him.

after a while, he speaks. “you're not mad at me?” he asks quietly, rubbing his fingers over the tea cup.

you purse your lips and think for a moment. “don't get me wrong, i miss ace already but…” you sit next to him on the couch and venture to rest your head on his shoulder. “i also know how much you love him, and how hard it must’ve been on you… to be torn between your family and your duty like that.” you sigh and wrap your fingers around his thick forearm. “but after all these years, i could never stay mad at you.”

garp grunts and sets his tea down onto your coffee table, craning his neck to look at you. you give him a reassuring smile and the corner of his mouth quirks up in response. “ten years, actually.”

“what?”

“it's been ten years.” the roughness of garp’s palm meets the heat of your cheek and he shifts just slightly so that his lips are right in front of yours. “i know it's a weird time to ask this but...do ya still feel the same way you did ten years ago? do ya still want an old man like me?”

all you can do is utter the beginning of your confirmation before garp’s mustache is scratching against your upper lip. his lips are rough and heavy against yours, and he immediately pulls you into his lap. your hands immediately find purchase on garp’s cut jaw as you allow him to dominate your lips.

after getting your first taste of the weathered vice admiral, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. you keep your lips pressed to his as your hands reach for his waist and fumble with his belt buckle, successfully undoing it and popping open the button of his pants.

garp chuckles against your lips and wraps your hair in his fist, pulling your head back and away from him. “why so eager, baby girl?” he slides the heel of his hand against your waist and squeezes the plush flesh there.

“you made me wait ten years…” you pant, your eyes glazed over with lust and desire and need that makes garp’s cock twitch in his underwear. the corner of his mouth curls downward as he thinks for a moment.

it’s been a while since he’d been intimate with anyone, let alone a pretty and eager young thing like you. so before he can talk himself out of it, he grabs you by the back of your neck and brings you to his lips again. he growls softly as he feels your nimble fingers working at the buttons of his shirts and then smooth over his broad chest sprinkled with grey hairs.

he holds your hips down to his own tightly, grinding up against you to feel that delicious friction he’d wanted to feel with you for so long. you break away from his lips, moving your lips to his ear and nibbling at the skin just below it. you press messy, open mouthed kisses down his neck and chest.

garp lets his grip on your hips loosen as you push his shirt off his shoulders and keep kissing your way down his body, stopping at the hem of his underwear. you pull at the elastic with your teeth and look up at him. “c-can i taste you, daddy?” you ask shyly, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth.

garp swallows thickly, reaching down to rub his thumb across your bottom lip then open your mouth. yeah, he’s not gonna be able to hold himself back.

“daddy, eh?” garp lets out a belly laugh, making you pout up at him. you were getting impatient, so you tentatively pulled his underwear down just enough to release him. the heaviness of his cock prevented the tip from slapping against his belly, and droplets of his pre cum sprayed across your face. you lick your lips and kneel on the ground before him, licking one long stripe up from his base to his tip. garp bucks against your lips involuntarily, angling his head down to watch you kiss and lick at his erection.

he grits his teeth and wraps your hair in his fist again, making you look up at him. “you’re sure about this ain’t’cha?”

“very. have been for the past ten years.” you say hurriedly, looking up at the vice admiral with pleading eyes. garp watches the way you’re clenching your thighs together, and he can’t help but notice the little bit of his precum dripping down your chin.

“well, if ya want it so bad, go ahead and take it.” garp grunts, pushing the back of your head down so his weeping tip pokes the back of your throat. you open your eyes and notice he’s barely halfway in your mouth, so you squeeze your eyes shut once more and inhale deeply as you try to press your nose to his pelvis. garp lets out a deep moan, letting his hand rest on the back of your head but no longer pushing down. “that’s it, baby girl, suck like you mean it…”

garp’s hips snap up to meet your lips as you suck him off, and he can’t help but marvel at your hollowed cheeks and tearful eyes. the little moans and mewls you’re making send vibratory waves of pleasure from his tip to his balls and he pulls your head back, his cock being released from your mouth with a slick pop.

you’re about to whine in protest when garp stands up abruptly, bending down to wrap his arms behind your knees and lifting you up against him. he kicks off his pants and underwear and walks with you to your bedroom, throwing you down onto the bed and climbing onto you immediately.

his brute strength knows no bounds as he practically rips your clothes off, mumbling a half assed ‘sorry’ followed by a promise to buy you new clothes. you don’t care much, though, since you’re only focused on the way garp’s lips and teeth are worrying at your skin.

“need you on my cock, baby girl.” he rasps between kisses, stopping every once in a while to lick or teeth at your nipple while his hand squeezes your breast. his other hand reaches down and pushes your underwear down, dipping his thick fingers between your folds and shoving two inside you.

you cry out, clutching on garp’s back as he fucks you on his fingers. “i-i thought you wanted me on your cock?” you manage to ask.

“gotta stretch you out first, baby girl.” garp grins up at you before adding a third, then fourth finger until your thighs are trapping his fingers between them, clenched as your first orgasm rips through you.

garp kisses back up your body before sealing another kiss onto you lips. he kneels and grabs your thighs in his big hands, spreading then securing your legs over each of his shoulders. he stops to grin at you as he rubs his dick between your folds, gathering up your slick and shuddering at the warm and wet feel of your pussy.

“you’re so pretty, baby girl. i can’t wait to be inside ya…” garp chuckles excitedly to himself before pushing into your pussy, bottoming out in one go. you immediately arch your back and whimper, but garp is quick to soothe you with a palm to your cheek and a kiss to your neck.

he decides it’s best to not ease into it so he draws his hips back just to snap them forward harshly, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout your room. he leans over you and sets a blinding pace, cock pummeling into your pussy and fingers gripping your hips so tightly there will most definitely be bruises in a few hours.

“f-fuck, baby girl, you’re so tight. you’re doin’ so good for daddy…” garp chokes out, feelings his cock get squeezed every time he pulls back or pushes in. you can only lay back and let him use you, your jaw slack and your eyes half lidded as he takes over you.

you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that garp was in a heightened emotional state right now, that this might only be something fleeting or purely sexual, but you still held onto the hope that this meant just as much to him as it did to you.

between the way your pussy was milking his cock so beautifully, and the little whispers of his name that fell from your lips, garp is cumming in seconds. he fucks you through his orgasm, twisting his hips just right to rub up against that spongey spot inside of you and bring you to your own climax.

he stays kneeling over you, his hands on either side of your head as he pants, keeping his cock sheathed inside you to ground himself. the way your walls are still fluttering around him over stimulates him, and he decides to pull out. he watches in amazement and amusement as his cum leaks out of your stretched out pussy, and he can’t help but use his fingers to stuff it back inside of you. you moan at the sensation of his thick fingers back inside you, after his cock had just blown you wide open.

he chuckles at your fucked out expression and presses a sweet kiss to your temple, preparing to head out and find a place to stay tonight to give you your space. maybe head up the mountain, even though he’s sure dadan wouldn’t let him near her place right now.

“stay.” you mumble, using some of the last ounces of your energy to lay your hand on his shoulder and stop him. he considers it for a moment before sighing and laying back down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. who is he to deny this woman he’d come to love after these ten years? he looks down at your face, noting your closed eyes and the small, blissful upward curl of your lips.

“was it worth the wait?” garp whispers with a chuckle as he brushes his thick fingers over your sweat matted hair.

you hum and nod, snuggling into his side and wrapping one of your legs over his hips. you’re trapping him here if it’s the last thing you do.

“good…i don't think i’ll be able to leave ya alone after this, baby girl.”

“you better never leave me alone, old man.” you mutter, making garp left out another one of this belly laughs you love so much. he squeezes you into his side and sighs.

“yes ma’am.”

taglist: @usoppsstar | @bitchimasnake-sss | idk who else to tag i'm just in my sugar daddy era so :3 hehe

#monkey d garp #monkey d garp x reader #garp #garp x reader #one piece #garp smut #monkey d garp smut

356 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Note

i just wanted to say i really liked your garp fic and i was wondering if you were going to do a part 2?

Bonnie Lass (2/2)

Masterlist Here, Part 1 Here.

Word Count: 7,925

Synopsis: You finally meet with the handsome older gentleman at the other end of the den-den-mushi. He promises a night you will both not forget in a hurry - will it live up to that expectation?

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ You have been warned, smut, p in v sex, oral afab!receiving, bonnie lass - wee bonnie - lass - bonnie gendered terms used, afab! reader, "The Garpening", flirting, supportive boss Mihawk, den-den-mushi calls, both are shameless, age gap, unprotected, creampie.

Notes: This fic was brought to you by a bottle of wine, long chats with @carrotsunshine, @since-im-already-here, @sordidmusings, and @feral-artistry, my incessant need to write for older men, and an overbearing need to know exactly where Garp's appetite leads him.

Apprehensive and Apologetic Tag list: @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @cinnbar-bun @i-love-myself-xd @the-reas0n-is-y0u

The seabreeze whipped through your hair, the gullsong serenading you as Mihawk’s vessel made to dock at the Marine port. You squint your eyes up, staring at the bleached stone walls of the large building that held the promise of good food and pleasurable company. Hanging on the words Vice-Admiral Garp last spoke to you, your body immediately felt compelled to wander forward to exit the ship and gleefully skip towards the mighty doors.

But you knew better.

The presence of your boss, Dracule Mihawk, fell beside you: his bicep brushing with the pointed tip of your shoulders as he physically began rumbling a low growl. He despised attending meetings held by the World Government, meaning he would likely require additional resources to get him through the week you were to remain docked at harbor.

“My lord,” you addressed him, turning your body with a curt nod to him. He hummed in response, unbreaking his eyes away from the headquarters of the world government. With a small exhale of breath, you regained your composure and began relaying his itinerary for the day to him.

“An hour after we dock, your presence is required to partake in a meeting of the warlords of the sea,” you began, elevating your clipboard and scanning the paper pages for the next item on his agenda, “Afterwards, you have a brunch with Boa Hancock and Jinbei - to what end, I was made unaware. After that, you’ll be given your assignment to rid the outer ring of the ‘unruly plague of piracy’ the World Government deems important enough for your skill - likely to be completed over four days of battle, given the numbers,” Your brows furrowed, searching the pages for further information, “Then you are to meet with your tailor, just before your new headshots are to be confirmed by den-den-mushi.”

Mihawk clenched his fists, gritting his teeth as the marines roped his ship into port. The more you spoke, the more agitated he became. Not agitated at you, never agitated with you - he despised these meetings, and hoped that bringing you along would ensure a safe and swift encounter. He always struggled with managing his agendas and itineraries with these encounters, almost electing to bring you along simply for moral support if nothing else.

“And then?” Mihawk spat through his clenched jaw, fists balling at his sides.

“And then,” you confirmed, placing your clipboard under your arm and smiling up at your boss, “You have been booked into an onsen for a private spa, a massage and hot stone session in the hamam, and,” you stepped further towards Mihawk, adjusting his overcoat and soothing over his shoulders to rid the material of fray, “After that, I have sent a bottle of Rosso, and asked for for the next book in that romance series you have been indulging in to be awaiting you in your personal suite.”

Mihawk exhaled a sigh of relief, clapping a hand over your shoulder in a gesture of appreciation. You smiled up at your boss, nodding at him to affirm your notion of providing his relief. You turned away, bringing your attention back up to the top of the building, and focussed your pointed gaze at the silhouette glaring over the balcony of the highest point.

“And while I am distracted by a good book and a bottle of wine,” Mihawk’s taunting purr cracked into your ear, “Where will you be, my dear?” You drew a sheepish grin up to your lips, a faint flush igniting your cheeks

Mihawk leant down into your ear, his breath tingling and hot against your flesh as he uttered his warning into your ear.

“Wined and dined by an old man?” he taunted down, his smirk visibly present in his tone, “Keeping me at bay while you enjoy a few stiff drinks, before being railed by something else stiff-.”

“Lord Dracule Mihawk!” you scolded him, turning to join your ignited gaze against his playful, honey-colored orbs, “I am first and foremost your assistant.” Mihawk’s lips twitched at the corners, indicating his amusement as close to a smile as he would ever publicly display. You huffed out your breath, shaking your head while adding, “I have never met him in person, and he is yet to extend a formal invitation to join him for dinner. I will be busy all day tending to your affairs, as I always am, Sir.” His amusement never lessened, only growing on his lips with another twitch.

“And after the day of your duties?” Mihawk’s brow twitched in interest, “What then?”

“What then,” you shoved your index finger into his chest, scraping it up to tap the tip of his nose, “Is that I will be tucked safely within my bedsheets after a long bath and a hot meal. I am here to serve you, sir. I am your assistant, and I am a damn good one.”

“That you are, dear,” he confirmed, placing his other hand on your shoulder, holding you in place, “Which is why, after today, I have given you three days paid shore leave.” Your stunned silence only propelled him on further to add, “Buy yourself a new pretty dress, and enjoy the sights,” he leant forward with a small wink, his darkened lashes kissing against the waterline to hide his brilliant amber eyes briefly, “And then, get the old man to roar your name in the thralls of joint ecstacy. By my orders, dear. You have earnt it.”

The warm rise of warmth held against the apples of your cheeks all day, constantly repeating Mihawk’s comments in a circular swirl within your mind. From the moment your temporary office was welcomed by a pink-haired cadet, to filling in a variety of paperwork, to taking various den-den-mushi calls, to clocking out for the day - the flushed heat held firm against your cheeks.

No whisper of a word, nor scroll of a calligraphed note, graced your temporary office with its presence. You honestly thought you had been forgotten, neglected in the knowledge that you had journeyed long beside Dracule Mihawk to be within close proximity to the man who held your undivided attention every day for the past year.

Just as you were packing away your desk for the day, the den-den-mushi began to roar to life on your wooden countertop. The reverberation of its guttural grunts and gurgles had you satiating its tone by answering the call.

“Lord Dracule Mihawk’s den-den-mushi. State your intentions, and make it quick-,” you growled, your professional tone wavering in agitation due to the proximity of your shift ending.

“-Oh, sweet bonnie lass. I dinnae mean t’keep ‘ye waitin’,” the soothing drawl of Vice-Admiral Garp purred through the transponder. You huffed out an exasperated breath, your brows furrowing further against your forehead as you navigated through your swelling mind.

“Vice-Admiral,” your warning tone cut through the air, halting all further conversation with a concluding utterance of, “My office hours have concluded for the day. Should you desire to reach Dracule Mihawk for any need, you may try again at-.” Your words were stolen from you by Garp’s tone cutting through them like a knife through hot butter.

“-Please, lass,” his plea cracked through the den-den-mushi, holding you hostage to his words, “Please dannae brush me aside. I have been in meetin’s all day, and I have been trying to claw my way to you from the wee hours of the morn, to the quiet moments of the noon.” You rotated your neck, relieving tension found within the tight bands of your muscles.

“Vice-Admiral,” you began, interrupted once again by his rumbling brogue growling through the mouthpiece of the den-den-mushi, “I have had a long journey at sea. My only welcome being more work at the bequest of my employer. I do not have time to entertain you over the transponder today. If you desire to speak further, you can try again tomorrow, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, lass. It’s Garp, please,” his breathy voice gasped through the speaker, “I’ll make it up to you, I swear. I should’ve been down by the docks waiting - up to my knees in sea water to reign your ship in with my bare hands.” You hummed at the thought: a high and mighty Vice-Admiral of the marines lowering himself to the duties of a simple cadet at the chance of meeting his eyes with your own in person.

You took a moment's pause, contemplating his words and mulling the thought of him demonstrating his strength and stamina to you while shepherding Mihawk’s ship into port. Did he have old navy tattoos on his biceps? Did his advanced age hinder his ability to perform such a task? Gathering he was the one who suggested such a notion, and him being a man of high honor, you gathered he would be up to such a muscle burning task.

“Alright, Garp,” you hummed into the transponder, leaning back into the transponder and purring through your vocal challenge, “Make it up to me.”

A shuddered groan sparked through the mouthpiece, your own giddy joy elevating in your chest and igniting your body with soft tingles. If he had this much sway over you with just a small growl of his voice, you were unsure of where the next few moments were to bring you.

“Meet me at the docks in two hours, Bonnie Lass,” his tone was hushed enough to draw you in closer, your ears pricking to catch every syllable granted to you, “And I’ll treat you to a night you willnae forget in a hurry.” Your broad grin split your face, a small squeak of joy threatening to escape your lips with a soft hum.

“And how should you like me, Garp?” you asked him, your taunting purr calling further into the receiver end, “Should I prepare my wardrobe for an outdoor activity,” you questioned, your foot tapping lightly within the air while hooking over your knee, “Or should I just throw a coat over some lingerie and call it a night?”

Several cracking objects bent and broke, echoing throughout the den-den-mushi transponder; something akin to wood snapping and nails tearing through mahogany. You rewarded such a sound with a melodic giggle, only producing more creaking wood noises in consequence.

“Wear something dainty for me,” a low rumbled growl purred at you, “What you choose to wear under it is your prerogative.”

“Aye, Sir,” you confirmed with a curt nod, “Two hours, and I’ll be all yours.”

“All mine,” his low drawl parroted back to you, the giddy chirp of his voice endearing in your ears. At the click of the receiver, you sprung immediately into action and hurried out of the office doors.

You bid a cheery farewell to the cadets loitering in the hallway, thanking them for arranging your office, before leaving the washed-stone building of the World Government headquarters. Your smile never left your lips, the promise of meeting the man who held your romantic affections weighing heavily on your mind and fluttering harshly within the pit of your stomach.

While bathing, cleansing your skin and hair, and ensuring every part of you was styled and scented with the sweet and sultry persona you had presented yourself to be, your thoughts turned to pondering unspoken questions. Will he enjoy the way you present yourself? Will he behave like the perfect gentleman? How should you act: the way you shamelessly speak over the den-den-mushi, or poised like a lady? Would he like this particular color on you, or on the floor beside you?

You shook your head to rid them of the spiraling doubts, soothing over your tight dress and hooking your coat over your forearm while exiting the suite you had organized for yourself. Clicking and locking your door behind you, your eyes briefly met with Mihawks: a book tucked under his arm and wine bottle within his grasp, twirling the cork with his screw and filling his wine glass in the window. He shot you a knowing look, mouthing the words: “make him roar.”

Your cheeks flooded with the heat of scorched oil, flash point igniting in your eyes at the final utterance of support from your boss. Shaking your head, you made your way briskly to the docks. The dimly lit lamplight illuminated your path, the click of your heels tapping lightly on the solid sandstone pathway. The flap of gulls wings shepherded your final steps atop the docks, your eyes meeting with a truly unique sight you were not expecting in the least.

In the middle of the pier stood a highly decorated marine, silver hair backlit by the radiance of the moon and standing with his wrists clenched behind his back. His beard was neatly cropped, his eyes fixed on your approach, his lips exhaling a shaky breath he prayed you didn’t notice. As your feet carried your body closer, you halted a few feet away from him, tilting your chin and pursing your lips playfully up at him.

“Vice-Admiral,” you purred up at him seductively, your eyes wide and innocent to contradict your expression.

“Bonnie-Lass,” he gruffly commented in response, a smile painted brilliantly on his lips. A delightful shudder flew up your spine at his undistorted voice finally meeting with you. You flit your eyes hastily over him, examining his stature inquisitively - a gesture he returned with gusto, eyes hovering over your meticulously cared and styled hair and outfit.

“May I invite ‘ye aboard, lass?” Garp’s softness in his tone pulled you in, his arms waving behind him to gesture towards his impressive ship, “I ‘kin understand if being on a ship again after so much time on the water might no’ agree with ‘ye-.”

“-I would love to see your ship, Captain,” you remarked gleefully, stepping past his arms and following his gesture to the broadwalk, “I adore sea travel, and enjoy the rocking of the waves. I find it comforting.”

As you stepped past, your intoxicating radiance graced Garp with the aroma of your sweet perfume. The way your presence called him immediately to follow you, his feet falling in tow with your every step, was not something he ever accounted for.

The moment your voice picked up the receiver of the den-den-mushi, Garp’s sour mood was immediately stifled under your comforting tone. The first time he called Castle Kuraigana to relay orders to the broody warlord of the sea, he was ill-prepared to be met with a tone so honey-sweet and kind. He was immediately smitten, often calling the castle with any excuse he could muster to hear more of your sweetness pouring onto him through the speaker of his den-den-mushi.

But now you were here in person, Garp truly had no idea how to handle you. He did not know if you would allow him the luxury of holding you against himself in a warm and welcoming embrace. He did not desire to lean down and claim your lips with a kiss, only to be met with a turn of your cheek and an utterance of, “You’re too old for me,” falling from your lips. He truly did not know what to expect from you, and the unspoken anxiety was eating at his stomach and clouding his mind.

“Garp?” you called over to him, halting your advance onto his ship and turning to face him, “Are you going to guide me along your vessel, or am I to find my own way without you?” Garp snapped his eyes to meet with yours, his winding thoughts pausing as he bore his intense gaze into you.

“Although I do enjoy exploring new areas, I would prefer to be ushered in with the pleasure of your company,” you continued, a coy smile springing to your features, “After all the promises you made to me of the many months we’d been speaking,” you took a step back, falling closer to his larger body, “I would prefer you to keep your word.”

“And which word might that be, lass?” his gruff whisper crooned down at you, his eyes half-lidded and lips parted in desperation, “I had promised ‘ye an array of mischief, if ‘me old mind serves correct.”

“Considering I’ll be on, I’m assuming, this ship for the next few days while Mihawk completes his assignment,” you contemplated, darting your focus between his two eyes, “Would you show me to my quarters so I may send for my belongings to arrive on the morrow?”

“All work an’ no play, lass?'' he huffed a small laugh down at you, “An’ here I thought you’d want something more playful the first time we met in person, or perhaps something a little more-...” His thoughts trailed off, his tone almost disappointed at your formal conversation. He took it as his first rejection from you, opting to not push his expectation and desires onto you should it make you uncomfortable.

You exhaled through your nose, your smile not leaving your lips as you shook your head at him. As Garp allowed his spiraling thoughts to plague his mind, fully trapped within his misguided notion you had rejected his flirtatious advances, he didn’t feel the grip of your fingers around his teal tie until his body was thrust forward by the strength of your forearm.

Drawing all of the power you could muster, alongside the courage you felt you needed to complete such a feat, you claimed the lips of the decorated Vice-Admiral of the marines beneath your own. You set a bruising pace, turning your head and standing yourself up on the tips of your toes to reach more of him. Your other hand found his broad chest, dropping your coat to the floor while fisting the material of his outer coat beneath your palm and cradling him closer to yourself.

Stepping backwards onto the ship, you ushered his hulking body aboard while unbreaking from the passionate embrace. As your knees knocked with a hard benchtop behind you, you ushered the larger man to turn, forcing his body down to sit himself down on the bench. You opened your mouth, your tongue raking against his bottom lip.

A groan fled from his lips, Garp’s needy hands grasping at your flesh over the material of your dress. Fistfulls of the material was claimed within Garp’s hands, the hemline of the material being shimmied up your thighs to grant more of your flesh to be exposed to him. He opened his mouth, allowing you to seek out his tongue to brush against your own with expert and practiced precision.

As the material continued to ride up your body, you hooked your knees either side of his broad thighs and straddled his waist. The split side of your dress strained beneath the grasps of Garp’s hands, stretching the material harshly before your ears pricked at the harsh ‘rip’. You squeaked in Garps mouth, drawing your lips away from his with a frown.

“You tore my dress!” you exclaimed, your accusatory reprimand mixing with a hidden smile beneath your frown, “It was my favorite!” Garp paid your chastising tone no mind, peppering your neck with several, open-mouthed kisses.

“I’ll buy ‘ye twelve more,” he gasped, nipping and sucking at the exposed flesh of your neck, “All the colors you desire,” he raked his teeth against your jaw, “All the patterns in the world.” You keened a small moan into the air when he found a sensitive piece of flesh between your throat and your pulse.

His hand dipped between the material of your dress, raking his fingertips over your thigh to hold your hip only to pause while held in complete shock.

“You’re ‘nae wearing anythin’ beneath this dress, bonnie lass,” he growled against your jaw, his teeth catching on the bone and clamping over your soft skin.

“You said it was my prerogative,” you gasped, turning your head to seek out his lips with your own, “Why do you think I wanted you to show me to my quarters, Sir?” You pressed a long and heavy kiss against his lips before tearing yourself away once more. “But it seemed as if you couldn't handle the uncertainty for a moment longer,” you kissed his whiskered cheek, “So I am improvising.”

Garp immediately responded by raking his broad hands beneath your bare ass, barely covered by the material of your dress, hoisting you into the air and marching you throughout the corridors with heavy and intentional steps. You giggled at him, weaving your hands over his shoulders and massaging his scalp with your fingertips, and nuzzling down into his neck. You inhaled deeply, committing his cologne to memory while nipping and sucking on his exposed flesh close to his collar.

“It’s against protocol to leave visible marks above my uniform,” Garp growled, leaning his head back and exposing more of his skin to you, “If you litter my skin with any bites, I’ll see to ‘ye punishment personally.” In response to your rough, peppered kisses along his neck and bearded jaw, Garp slapped his hand on your right ass cheek before kneading it within his fingers and palm.

“I am no marine, Garp,” you confessed, wrapping your lips around his pulse and sucking at the skin with fervor, “And I’d like to see you try.”

“Y’ell do as ‘yer bloody told, lass,” he growled, leaning away from your lips. As his eyes met with yours, he squeezed the flesh of your ass with a warning pinch. You squeaked in delight, Garp’s hearty laughter pleasantly echoing within your ears.

“I’ll do as I bloody please, Garp,” you taunted in return, biting a crescent shaped mark against his pulse, soothing over the mark with your lips and tongue. You sucked at the mark, hearing a hitch in his breath as he continued to lead you towards the guest suites.

Tearing your lips away, you hummed at the heart-shaped mark you pressed into his skin. It was a medal of lust, visible to all who see it - and see it, they will. Garp’s pulse was elevated further, his passionate advances leading him on with heavy and intentional steps. His boot heel kicked in the door to cabin quarters, your anticipation only growing as Garp lowered you onto the freshly made bed.

Your back hit the plush mattress, your hair sprawling out on the sheets as he lowered his head against your neck. He pressed a few intentional kisses against your exposed flesh, his hands desperately raking over your chest to knead your breasts slowly and sensually. You sucked in a soft groan, your brows furrowing up as his thumb and index finger rolled over your puckered nipples. At your small gasp, he took it as encouragement to continue stimulating your breasts with his left hand, as his right rose the hemline of your dress over your hip.

Hastily, you shot your hands forward, fumbling over the buckle of his belt to rid it of its hold on his pants. Just as quickly, Vice-Admiral Garp surged forward: claiming both of your wrists within his circular grip to halt your advance. You furrowed your brows as he pinned your wrists beside your head, your wide eyes meeting with his mischievous grin.

“What are you-,” you began, silenced by a heavy and open-mouthed kiss pressed against your lips, claiming you beneath him with rough bites and soothing caresses. He groaned against your lips, leading your hands with his to wrap around his shoulders and weave into his hair once more within your fingertips.

“Let me taste ‘ye first, bonnie,” he growled against your sensitive skin, You gasped a sigh of affirmation, nodding against his smiling lips, “Let me make it up to ‘ye for ‘me surliness earlier. Please let me have ‘ye like this.”

Trailing open mouthed kisses down your neck, halting briefly at your breasts before trailing down your stomach; Vice-Admiral Monkey D. Garp made his intentions incredibly clear to you as he shimmied the line of your dress higher over your body.

“Let me show ‘ye how much I’ve been craving the sweet call of my name from those pretty lips o’ yours,” Hooking your knees over his shoulders, he scraped his bearded chin over the sensitive inner flesh of your thighs before grazing his lips over the top of your core, “I’ll have ‘ye cryin’ and whimperin’ for me before ‘ye even see my cock.”

He tested your sensitive flesh: flicking the tip of his tongue out to brush against your swollen clit. Immediately, your back arched up and a soft cry flew from your lips before you could stop it. Garp chuckled, looking as your pulsating core was welcoming more of his touches, giving away your arousal with a pool of your sweet essence pouring from your contracting entrance.

“You are so beautiful, bonnie lass,” he pressed a sweet kiss against the top of your groin, his smile felt against your flesh, “And ‘ye finally all mine.” After allowing another chuckle to fall from his lips, he advanced forwards and skillfully licked a clean and expert stripe along your glistening walls.

Vice-Admiral Garp was known for many things: His brutality in war, his aggression while training cadets, his calculated advances on the battlefield, his impossible strength, and his insatiable appetite. This appetite was now displayed to you as he hungrily and desperately lapped at your core like a man on death row, consuming his last meal while awaiting execution. The balance between savoring the flavor while horking down like a man starving had your eyes rolling back and hands fisting at his cropped hair to hold on tightly.

“O-Oh fuck,” you cried, your eyes now tightly clamped shut as you relished in his skilled ministrations. The roll of his tongue, the mouthing of his hungry lips, had you physically quaking against his face.

“Shakin’ like a leaf, lass,” he taunted, nuzzling into your aching core, “‘ye want ‘te see what else I ‘kin do?” Your toes curled as he prodded your entrance with his tongue, his nose circling your clit and spreading your arousal throughout your core. Skillfully thrusting his tongue in and out of your desperate and delicate slit, you felt as if you were going to explode in ecstasy the moment he began vibrating his tongue with a deep, rumbling groan.

“G-Garp. I-I don’t know if I-I can-... hnnng-... I c-can’t last m-....mmmn-... m-much longer,” you cried, your thighs clenching on his neck and shoulders to hold him in place. Your body reacted against your will, arching your back off the mattress while desperately riding his face. You felt the band winding tighter in your abdomen, each area of your body desperately shooting sparks, teetering on the edge of unravel.

Two firm hands clapped over your thighs: one holding down your stomach and pinning you against the bed, the other kneading over your thigh. Garp pulled his face away from your needy cunt, hovering his hot breath and breathing puffs of cool air over your hole. You whimpered in desperation, wriggling against his wide-spread fingers to get any stimulus to conclude your high.

“W-Why-,” you cried, a slap on your bare ass halting your words and having you throw your head against the pillow.

“-Because I warned ‘ye nae t’ leave a mark on ‘me body. It’s against protocol, lass,” he chuckled, his whiskered chin scraping over your thigh as his smiling lips pressed a kiss against the outer corner of your crotch. You growled, leaning up on your elbows, staring into his eyes with a dark agitation.

“And after all those promises of making it up to me?” you spat, your nose scrunching, lips pursing and brow furrowing. Garp rose from his low position against your exposed flesh, a foreign desperation depicted in his wide eyes.

“Were they all empty words?” you uttered. You knew, for a fact, that Vice-Admiral Garp was mad for you, but that only made you want to taunt him more, “All an act to get me to open my legs, just to leave me disappointed like the rest of them?” A stuttered gasp flew from his lips as he crawled up the bed, weaving his clothed torso through your legs to meet at eye level once again. In turn, you shimmied your body away from him, turning your face away in an attempt to hide your smile.

You knew how desperately he wanted you. The moment your lips collided with his above deck, you felt just how much he absolutely adored you. Considering he held you on the edge of ecstasy, only to pull away from you as you were about to unravel , you decided it would be more entertaining to watch him grovel for you.

“Perhaps you were only interested in leaving a sour taste, teasing me with your pretty brogue and taunting me with your dream-like promises,” you continued, lips pouting and brows triangulating up in the center of your forehead. Garp staggered in his movement, his hands reaching out in an attempt to grasp yours, only met with you pulling away.

“L-Lass, I didnae mean t-,” he began, halted by your melancholy sigh in an attempt to stifle a rising giggle in your chest.

“-You said I’d beg and plead for your hands and lips to be in a few key places, if I recall correctly,” you pouted, playing into your role, “How disappointing, only having me beg and writhe beneath you to pull away at the crescendo.”

“P-Please, lass. I’m sorry. I am a cruel, cruel man,” he confessed, claiming your left hand within his right and peppering the flesh with a flurry of kisses, “What can I do t’make it up to ‘ye, ‘me bonnie lass. Tell me,” he trailed his kisses up higher, halting at the inner flesh of your elbow, “Order me, dictate me,” he continued spreading kisses up to your shoulder, soothing over your scorching flesh, “I beg ‘ye to reconsider your withdrawal. I am ‘ye humble servant, wee bonnie.”

Your smile broke through your pouting expression, your head snapping over to meet with his. His eyes were wide and frantic, desperate to know he had not lost you by enacting his cruel punishment.

“Off the bed,” you ordered him, a twinkle of mischief sparking to light in your surly expression, “And strip yourself, slowly.”

“Aye, bonnie lass,” he stumbled over his words, immediately staggering backwards and falling to the side of the bed. He began unbuttoning his overcoat and shaking it from his shoulders hurriedly, prompting a giggle to break through your practiced character.

“I said slowly, Garp,” you purred at him, sitting up and moving your left calf along your right, “I thought you would be good at following orders, considering your title as a marine.” He halted his hasty undress, opting to silently follow your orders by unhooking the clasps of his belt and unbuttoning his pants. As the hem lay limply on his hips, he slowly popped each button of his shirt and raked his index finger along his torso to separate the fabric.

Shamelessly following each movement with a bite of your bottom lip, you reclined on your side and encouraged him to continue with your sultry and beckoning eyes. His heart fluttered, feeling so small beneath your predatory gaze. After speaking with you for so long over den-den-mushi, and desperately seeking your approval with his choice words, he was certain he knew what to expect when he met with you.

He had never been so pleased to be proven wrong in his life.

As he released the final button of his shirt, you clicked your tongue at him and pointed your index finger at the teal sash decorating his neck.

“The tie stays on,” you spoke through narrowed eyes, testing his resolve to follow your orders. He huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head as he peeled his shirt away from his skin - leaving the teal tie around his neck. He shimmied off the fabric before hooking his thumbs through his belt hoops, slowly pulling the material over his hips and down his muscular thighs.

Hungrily and awestruck, you followed each taut flex of his impressive muscles: his forearms, his biceps, his shoulders, his pectorals, his abs, his thighs - nothing was hidden from your eyes as he continued to slowly undress himself before you. His head-shot from the World Government truly did not do him justice - a man dignified and refined, muscular and carved from slated marble. He was a sight to behold, and was anxious to receive your approval at each passing moment.

Stepping away from his pants, Vice-Admiral Garp was standing before you in naught but his teal tie and tight undershorts. The growing pole to tent the center of his trousers had your mouth watering beneath your stoic and sultry expression: keeping your hand close to your chest to not reveal your desperation for him.

“Does this please you, lass?” he whispered below his breath, the corner of his mouth ticking with his melancholy expression, “An old man far from his prime, humbling himself before the delicate flower of Kuraigana. Is this all ‘ye dreamed of?” His small sigh caught your ear, prompting your brows to furrow in deep thought. His eyes were focussed on the floor, unable and unwilling to tear them away to meet with your exploratory eyes.

Vice-Admiral Garp was self conscious. He found himself unworthy to be at the receiving end of your interest, a fact that had become clearer and clearer the more the night flew on.

“Take off your undershorts, Garp,” you ordered him, slowly rising to your knees on the mattress, “And lie back on the bed.” You witnessed as his cock twitched beneath his pants, a growl purring in the chasms of his chest as he hooked his thumbs around the hemline of his undergarments.

Slowly shimmying down the elastic, his impressive cock sprang above the surface, slapping his abdomen with his shining mushroom tip on his belly. The slit was dripping with precum, the veins throbbing with anticipation while he bashfully lay his back down on the mattress. His cock stood to attention, knob throbbing while his shaft was hoisted in the air. He was neatly cropped, every follicle of his happy trail meticulously maintained down his stomach.

Without much warning, you eagerly straddled his waist with a giggle of joy. A gasp of shock fled from his lips, followed by a huff of laughter as you eagerly threw your dress off your body and looked down at his reclined form. There was a hidden uncertainty within his eyes, a hopeful sheen sucking you within his orbs each moment you gazed into them.

“Now what, lass?” he questioned you, eyes searching yours as he reached up his palm to cradle your cheek, “You’ve got me pinned and helpless beneath your thighs. Does this please you? D-Do I-...” his voice trailed off, remaining uncertain as his eyes sought out deeper, unspoken desires within your own, “...-Do I please you?”

You sighed, flipping your hair over your shoulder and looking down at him through half-hooded eyelashes. Your soft smile drew up over your features, a secret and hidden kiss’ shadow rising within the right-hand corner of your mouth - a place that immediately held Garp rendered defeated under your beautiful features.

What began as mild lust had blossomed and flourished into something more sacred. Garp was indeed smitten with you, desperately wanting to both treat and tease you, but now that he had you - he was clawing at being a worthy partner for you to couple with. He knew you were beautiful, he knew you were intelligent, he knew you were wise - but he did not expect, upon meeting you in person, to be rendered helpless upon seeking your approval.

Wordlessly, you sought out the tip of his glistening cock with your needy hole, slowly circling the knob without welcoming him fully into your walls. He gasped at the contact, surging forward to grasp at your thighs over his waist. Your arousal coated his tip, painting it with your own lust and propelling his sinful desires on further.

“You’ll please me by letting me ride your thick cock until you can’t take it anymore,” you purred down at him, angling your lips to almost brush against his own, “You’ll please me by splitting me open and filling me up with every inch you’re willing to give me. You’ll please me-...” you leaned your torso down, your breasts brushing with his pectorals, nipples circling his own in a sultry dance as you hovered over his cock, “...-By allowing me the luxury of cumming on your cock, my pussy milking you of your thick load and splashing back onto your cock once it meets with my cervix.”

Garp held his breath, furrowing his brows as he felt you inch down to claim his shined knob within your entrance. He focussed on the hitch of your breath, the swell of your heart rate, and the small whimper in your voice. He focussed on the twitch of your closed eyes and your parted lips as you sank further along his shaft.

Although his appetite was insatiable, he would never rush you in adjusting to his girth and length. He relished in every stretch your walls made to accommodate his impressive size, focussing on how your brows knit together and breath hitched at every small move. He tried to hold back the twitch of his desperate cock, trying not to lose himself within the feeling of your cunt fluttering to adjust for his cock to fully sheathe itself within you.

As the hilt of your crotch met with his, his cock disappearing within your fluttering cunt up to the brim, he finally allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief at being sheathed completely within you. Grinding yourself down, you suppress a strangled moan within your throat as you feel your walls adjust and accommodate to his impressive size. Testing a small movement, you inched yourself upwards and slunk down against his shaft - a sigh mirrored within Garp’s lips as he restrained himself from fucking up into you.

You began to slowly rake your walls up, before slamming your body back down against his groin: mutual cries of bliss falling from each other's lips as you focussed on riding his cock. You hastily drew up speed, setting a rhythm that had his hips rolling beneath your own. Your mewling cries of his name were rising into the air each time you felt his knob touch the edge of your cervix.

His hands gripped firmly against your thighs, ushering you to bob, grind and gyrate against his cock to chase your own ecstasy. Your clit brushed with the small tuft of hair remaining at the base of his shaft, stimulating the small bud each time you drew yourself down to his crotch.

He stared up in disbelief at the way your body responded to him. He was mesmerized at each whimper of your voice, each flutter of your eyelashes, and each slam of your aching cunt welcoming his throbbing cock within his walls. He couldn’t get enough: you were intoxicating and addictive with each writhe against him.

Your rhythm began to get more stuttered, your body responding to the elevation of your ecstasy. Your walls began to thump against him, wringing his cock and clamping down on it as your approaching orgasm began to shudder against his shaft. His breath hitched, his own brow furrowing as he felt every pulse within your walls ushering him into his own bliss.

As you continued to grind against him, Garp struggled to hold back against his own desires of flipping you over and stapling his hips against your own by railing your body into the plush mattress below. He did not want to destroy his good standing with you by completing such a lewd act, reacting in penance from drawing himself away from cumming into his awaiting lips, and simply chose to take each moment you gave him as a gift.

The flutter of your cunt began squeezing his shaft, the sensitive spongy underside of your clit meeting with his knob propelling you further in the release of your incoming ecstasy. Your whimpers and cries of his name falling freely from your lips had both Garp’s cock and heart swell in pride that his body was granting you such bliss.

“G-Garp, I-I’m gonna-...” you called, clenching your eyes shut as you continued to gyrate and grind down against his cock.

Garp’s iron will snapped, immediately hooking his arms around your waist and tackling you against the bedsheets. He caged you beneath him, plowing greedily into your shuddering walls with an eager snap of his hips. You shrieked in shock, your ecstasy being ushered in further by Garp stampeding you both towards your ends with a heavier and more controlled rhythm.

Each heavy rake of his cock within your cunt had his balls slapping against your puckered ass. At this new angle, you cried out, desperately clawing at his back and shoulders to draw him in closer to you.

He hoisted your knee over his hip, latching his lips onto your neck and sucking a deep, angry, mark into your porcelain flesh. You cried for him, every ounce of your flesh ignited by the sparks of untamed ecstasy as you thrust your hips upwards to meet with every sharp snap of his rhythmic hips.

“Cum for me,” he purred at you in a gruff growl, “Cry out my name.” His rhythm began to weigh heavier with each deep thrust, heavier and heavier with every staggered slam of his hips. “I want the entire base t’ know I’m makin’ ‘ye feel good. Want ‘ye fookin’ boss t’ know you’re becoming unraveled by my thick cock, ‘me bonnie lass.”

At the mention of your boss: Mihawk’s verbal warning of having Garp cry your name in bliss echoed back to you. In a final ditch effort of having Garp cry out for you, you latched your lips onto the mark you created a few hours prior and teased the flesh with your teeth and tongue. Garp knit his brows, growling through yelping barks below his breath at how truly good you made him feel.

“O-Ohh f-fuck, Garp. I-I’m-... ahh-... I’m c-cumming,,” you called, clawing and gnawing at his flesh like a lifeline anchoring you to the earth. He sucked in a breath feeling the twitch of his end spurting the first few moments of his orgasm within your walls. As much as he desired to pull away from your eager cunt to not risk his seed finding purchase within your walls - he simply could not help himself. He immediately began plowing harsher into you, his cock spurting his cum within you like a valve turning to release hisses of pent-up pressure.

His voice became elevated with each staggered thrust, each subtle whimpered cry of his name coinciding with you grinding and writhing beneath him to chase your mutual highs. At one final bite of his flesh, and a particularly harsh snap of his hips, the two of you began experiencing the first realms of joint ecstasy.

“F-Fuck bonnie lass, I cannae pull out,” he roared your name, gyrating and pumping his seed deep within your cunt: splashing back spurts of his load within your needy, throbbing cunt.

“D-Don’t you dare t-try,” you scolded him, eyes rolling back in bliss as he chased his orgasm within you. The walls of your pussy began contracting against his thick cock, shepherding him into releasing hot ropes of sticky cum within your eager walls. For every thump of your walls, you were granted by a spurt of his release within them - milking him of every fiber of his essence.

As you both rode through your highs, the hums of your voices and gasps of your breath caught up with you. He snapped his hips forward, remaining sheathed within your glistening walls, as he raked his fingers through your hair. Your strands stuck against your forehead, your pupils blown with lust as you gulped back another cry of ecstasy as his cock throbbed within you. You sobbed, hiding your forehead against his chest as you attempted to come down from your high.

Taking a moment to each gulp in oxygen to fill your lungs, Garp rolled from caging you beneath him, unsheathing his cock from within your pussy slowly. He looked down at your entrance, watching as it clenched to chase his retreat from your body with an eagerness he was yet to witness in some time. You were a masterpiece, a body unraveled and glistening within the realms of the afterglow in unbridled lust. He adored you.

“You alrigh’, lass?” he asked you quietly, his lips grazing your temple as your lungs refilled with oxygen. You smiled up at him, eyes closing while your body chased his lips to feel his wired whiskers against your skin longer. You hummed at him, rolling over to your side and grazing his chest with your open hands.

“Never better, Garp,” you cooed back at him, feeling your energy supply depleting the longer you remained comfortably within his arms. He cradled you against himself, feeling the soft song of slumber calling to him each moment you remained nestled against him.

“And what of t’morrow?” Garp asked, his brow cocking up at the corner while he fought to keep his eyes open, “‘Ye got duties to attend, I’m sure.”

“Dracule Mihawk has allowed me the luxury of a few days' shore leave,” you confessed, sleepily, “I don’t think I’ll be returning to my station any time soon, Vice-Admiral-.”

“-Garp, bonnie lass. It’s Garp, remember?” he cooed down at you, shimmying his body down to locate the plush duvet and nestling you both beneath it, “When you’re with me, it’s always Garp.”

“Alright, Garp,” you purred up at him, eyes hooded and feeling serenaded by sleep, “Will you stay by me tonight? Show me you still want me in the morning?” He huffed out a breath of disbelief, cradling you further against his chest and pressing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

“Rest assured, Bonnie Lass,” the rumbling drawl of his voice cooed down at you, his fingers brushing over your hair and smoothing over each strand, “I will still want you every morning.”

Both of your warm smiles clung to your cheeks as you fell into the arms of sleep, feeling calm and at peace while clinging to one another. You had never been so pleased to be relieved of duty, your legs and body remaining blissfully numb by being plowed into by Garp’s throbbing cock.

An apology for his rough actions came in the form of caging your hips against his face, his arms weaving over your thighs, and him welcoming you to ride his head until your voice grew hoarse from the sheer number of times he had you cry his name on his eager tongue. Enthusiastically lapping at your glistening cunt with the fervor of a man being granted the feast of a lifetime, he refused to part his lips from your glistening walls until you violently shook with a scream of his name.

When riding down your high and sobbing through your ecstasy, you looked down at his eager eyes: twinkling with mischief. Upon meeting his gaze, he kissed your thigh and cooed up at you: “Just one more? One last time before I let you go, ‘me wee bonnie lass?” for the fifth time that morning. After all, his appetite truly was insatiable.

#one piece #x reader #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #monkey d garp #garp x reader #monkey d garp x reader #mihawk #platonic mihawk #mihawk's assistant #garp is a menace #monkey d garp smut #op smut #op x reader smut #garp smut #op garp #age gap kink

409 notes · View notes

fanaticpiece · 1 year ago

Text

He's to damn fine

“Breathe...”

- ☆ - Aokiji x Reader - ☆ - WARNING OF EXPLICIT CONTENT- 18+ - ☆ - 4.5 k - ☆ - tags: ♧ fem!reader ♧ post-time skip ♧ phone sex ♧ dirty talk ♧ praise kink ♧ size kink ♧ use of toys ♧ lowkey soft dom!aokiji ♧ mutual masturbation ♧ established relationship ♧ - ☆ - a/n: ♧ wrote this literally months ago, very self-indulgent and messy. but thought to share cause its been forever eva since I posted :3 ♧ never had a beta, we die like Ace fools ♧

puru, puru, puru...puru, puru, puru...puru, puru- katchak

“Yea?”

“Hiya”.

Kuzan hums upon the sound of your voice, “oh, it’s you”.

your huff exhales from the den den mushi in his palm, your pretty lashes mimicked by the telepathic phone, morphing its expression into a familiar frown. “don’t sound so disappointed, that’s rude”.

“Did I?” He sits on an ice block that may or may not have a face, casually making himself comfortable, “sorry, pretty girl. To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“I just…wanted to say hi”.

“Hi”, he drawls, shooting suspicion in the innocence you elicit, “is there any particular reason why?”

“I…wanted to hear your voice”, you say in a low whisper, a sound that sparks familiarity he can’t quite place. “what’s wrong with that?”

“mmm… it’s nice that you miss me”. his eyes narrow, “jus’ kinda suspicious though”.

“why?”

“cause you usually insult me first”.

“no, I don’t!”

“Hey ice-pop, what’s up stupid, loser, dumbass, lazy-ass, broke-ass. I think you have a thing for my ass”, the bored tone drawls on. Even when you try to defend yourself, he speaks over you tonelessly. “You sang Hey there, Mr Snowman for like a week after I got back from a month-long trip, can’t even hate cause it was pretty catchy. Beanpole was your favourite for a while. Ahh, well to be fair, you haven’t called me that since I gained some muscle, but then came the one-legged jokes”.

“I—”

“you called me Mr Footloose for weeks, laughed yourself into stitches with that one. The well never ran dry with the stanky leg”. Aokiji sighs heavily as if your insults struck a fragile nerve while you fail to stifle your laughter, “You’re verbally abusive, y’know. Don’t ask me why I put up with it”, he rubs the back of his neck tiredly, “probably helps you got such big tits, it’s pretty distracting. Helps to soften the blow. Like sexy cushions for my feelings”, his fingers twitch, imagining them soft and squishy in his big palms, brown nipples hard from his chilling touch. He almost falls into the fantasy before your snort snaps him out of it.

“and your point is?”

“Yeah, well anyway, when you call soundin’ all sugary sweet, it doesn’t sit right”, he murmurs, “Can’t help but feel like you’re plotting something, should I be worried?”.

“ughh, you’re so paranoid. What if I have something nice to say?”

“do you?”

You squirm, a flush creeping up your neck that the phone somehow mimics, “…are you busy?”

He lazily scans the room, ice sparkling where the sunset streaks in through the bar’s windows. The whole building is now crystalised and gleaming. The sound of tinkling frozen glass dropped and abandoned by voiceless statues accompanies the crackling of ice creeping up his neck. Aokiji smirks, knowing he had time before anyone caught up on what happened today.

“For my favourite tormentor? Course not”.

The snail rolls its eyes, but your smile cannot be hidden even by distance. There’s shuffling— wherever you are— he assumes home before you sigh breathily, “I’m practicing”.

It takes him a moment. A long, moan-length moment before it registers what you mean, and ice cracks within the tension of his jaw the second it clicks. And when it does, you release a pretty mewl of his name, raking a shudder down his spine imagining the actions that trigger them.

“practicing real hard, yea?” Aokiji rasps, listening intently to the little gasps and sighs echoing through the phone, the atmosphere dropping significantly, “jus’ like we talked about?”

“mm-mmh”, your lashes flutter closed, “rubbing on my clit with the ice toy, f-feels good”.

“too cold?”

“nahh, jus’ right”.

“how?”

“kinda- kinda like your tongue”, your breath catches, “it’s a lil’ cold, but I like rubbin’ the flat part on my slit an-and then moving the tip on-on- fuckk…s’goood”.

“tell me”, he murmurs softly, “are you laying on your back? You naked? Help me see you, darlin’”.

You swallow another whine, shifting as if you were putting the phone down beside you. “I’m laying on my back, wearing one of your old navy button-up shirts”.

“the marine ones? Where did you find that?”

“in your closet”, you giggle, “you were so handsome in them, still smells like you”.

Kuzan hums, not hating the memory they held if it meant it brought you comfort to wear something of his. You always look better in them anyway. “alright, keep going. What colour panties are you wearin?”.

“not wearing any”, you purr, grinning when he grunts in response. “not wearing a bra either”.

“my favourite words”.

“my thighs are open, I-I feel wet and hot. the toy feels so cold on my pussy, but in a nice way, it doesn’t melt and it’s not freezing either. Jus’-jus nice”.

His lips quirk up into a gentle smile, absently flexing his hand, remembering how carefully he constructed it for you. “I’m glad”.

“th-the other one is kinda scary —...ohh godd”, you cry out, eyes rolling back as wet sounds filter through the phone, “its like ha-aving your tongue inside me right n-now”.

“go slow, yea?” His throat goes dry, and his voice ends up sounding a little hoarser as the arousal churns with your pleasure. “you don’t have to use both today”.

“but I want to”, you whine a little too loudly, a little too desperately. “I wan’a get better taking your cock”.

“shit”, he groans, smiling despite the growing chubb jerking in his pants. “I know, ma. You’re such a good girl tryin’ so hard”, you smile from the praise, rewarding him with another throaty moan. His chest constricts from the sound, cock stirring as if he could see the way your pussy leaks with every in and out glide of the toy. One that came as a set made special for you to play with whenever he wasn’t around. To practise with — and to hear you do just that curled a smirk entirely too sinful to be witnessed.

“it’s not’a big stretch, b-but it feels so-so good. Gonna- ahh, gonna try the big one n-next”.

“Sounds good, ma. It’s okay to stop too, don’t think you ‘ave’to take it all in one go. Pace yourself, touch your pretty tits, go slow like I showed you”. He exhales a deep breath, the vision of you rolling your hips invading his mind before a chuckle escapes, “can’t believe you’re doing this when I can’t see your cute face”.

you huff again, pouting, “you jus’ like watching me struggle”.

“your pussy’so tight fo’me”, he grumbles, frost blowing with your every choked breath, his control slipping from the sound. “I tell ya’ to relax, your pussy squeezes on my tip an’ you start cryin’ these cute tears. Fuck, how can I not love it?”

“and then you start smiling!”

“it feels good”, he shrugs, leaning back with his knees shifting wider to accommodate the stiffness in his pants, “wont apologise for that, sweetheart”.

Your smile peaks through, “your apologies ain’t shit anyway. Saying sorry while playing with my tits but trying to push in harder — sorry baby jus’ a little more, its only halfway, promise”, you mock in a low tone, though failing to mimic the attractive husk that colours his words when he looms over you.

A deep, guttural sound that tears from his throat the moment he sinks into your cunt and the slightest bit of resistance pulses on his thick cock. Murmuring sorry again and again, with his hips pressing deeper with every strained syllable.

“You’re just a liar”, you hiss through another mewl.

“If you’re going to mock me, at least make it sound a little more dignified”, he grumbles, palming his fat bulge lazily.

“ohhhh so sorry I can’t match the cadence of your voice when you can’t fit inside me all the way”.

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart”, he says in his usual deadpan, concealing the chilling swirl of lust that billows around him. He can hear it now, the soft squelch of your wet pussy, labia slick and clit aching from the stimulation of the iced muscle he created for you to mimic the touch of his tongue. Wet glides up and down in broad strokes before fucking you hard, your cunt hot and wet all over his mouth. Fuck.

You were whining, fidgeting — knowing that your tits bounce with every needy grind of your hips made his chubb grow that much harder.

damn, you sound so pretty.

“C’mon”, he grunts hastily, frustration seeping when he can’t stimulate the warmth of your cunt on his erection, “dont forget why you called, lemme hear your pussy”. Kuzan smirks, “bet she misses me”.

“ughh, you’re so annoying”.

Your giggle makes him sigh, a pleasured one that spills white drops of pre in his pants without even fisting his cock. He was achingly hard, and the room was growing colder, ice crystalising up his neck as he descended into a lust-blown frost, “you’re killin’ me, sweetheart. Put your pussy on the phone, wanna hear how wet she is fo’me”.

you hum teasingly, “what’re you gonna say to her?”.

“how much I miss her on me”, he rasps, longing rough in his throat, “how I wanna suck on her cute clit an’ feel it twitch on my tongue. Rub on her pretty lips. Feel her dripping down my chin. Lick her clean. Fuck, I’m so hard right now”, he couldn’t hide the hunger in his tone, “Put her on the phone, let me hear while I fuck my fist. It won’t even be the same, but at least I’d get to hear your voice when I cum”.

you’re panting, Kuzan hears your resolve chipping away upon the command in his tone, only managing a bland you’re stupid in response as the distance between you creates a different sort of ache.

“and hard”, he sighs, hearing the words unsaid, “so, so hard, baby. That’s why I need to hear you, want to feel like I’m there between your legs”.

Silence settles on both ends. His abdomen tightens, staving off the arousal licking his skin, waiting on your next move— knowing you were biting your lower lip to hide another whine that slips out anyway. You were so stubborn when you could get away with it. A pretty brat who loved to test his patience. And damn did he love that.

He loved to break it, to watch you come undone and curl in pleasure with tears blotching your lashes from his hand. His tongue, his dick. But you had a power over him too. A deep seeded pleasure that made him groan, made him shudder and laugh and fall into your chest with a content sigh because it’s the only warmth he ever felt. You were his. Are. Is.

Always.

His hand inches to his belt, undoing it swiftly just to free the pressure that strains in his pants, “c’mon, mama, tell me how good it is”. His husk washes over you the way he intended, hearing your whimper reach a new octave. “I’m all yours”.

“Kuzan… ” his name flows in that familiar gasp through the phone, making him tense as if he could feel your cunt squeeze on his flesh.

“breathe, sweetheart. Jus’ start with the tip, push it in and out slowly”.

“-big! co-cold, goddd, it’s stretchin’ mee”.

“I know”, he coos, thumbing the pre that trickles out of his slit and coating it in his large palm, “you can take a lil’ more. such a big girl, doing this for’me, I love it so much, darlin’”.

“…ohh myy, you’re so’thick, it’s not fairr”, you whine, thighs trembling as you attempt to push in a few more inches of his ice sculpted cock, “if you w-were jus’ long…th-en, fuck-fuck”, you voice trails off, as though you muffled it into the pillow. Your shudders echo through the device, exposing the vulnerability that seeps through when it becomes a little too much. Your lashes wet and touching your cheeks from how hard you squeeze your eyes shut.

“breathe for me”, when you exhale, so does he. “there you go, just breathe. You got a pillow beneath you, right? …good girl. Start rubbing your clit for me with the other toy, im right there. Feel me? ahh you’re nice an’ wet, yea? Slow circles, that’s it. Breathe…”. Kuzan listens to you intently, every choked sigh and low mewl a clear indication on how you felt. He could read you openly, like he was right between your legs watching your cunt trickle slick all over his shaft, fluttering warmth and tightening—

“kuzan! Ku-kuzan! Kuzaaan…”

He groans low, answering you in the same breath as he begins fucking his fist. “I love the way you say my name”.

“it’s deeper…deep-you’re, ahh, shit! Its only halfway”, you make him chuckle, cute face scrunched up while you whimper and buck into the toy, “I dunno if I can take any more”.

“you’re doin’ so well”, he reassures, stroking his cock in gentle glides, hissing when the skin drags along his rough palm, his pre-cum not nearly enough lubricant— not unlike your sweet cunt. or mouth.

Another whimper spills. “I like it better when you touch me, baby”, you sigh, though he could hear the dramatics as you flutter your wet lashes sweetly, “it hurts too much by myself”.

Kuzan chuckles, the misty eye’d doe look your signature plea, one he’d seen too many times before you got your way. If he were there, your pout would have been kissed, your hair stroked— he would have been coddling you with his fat cock sheathed a little over halfway in your cunt. wet and warm and pulsating the six inches you could take. But you could do more. And you have— you’ve begged— you just like to be coerced and pampered with a little more affection first. To be kissed, caressed and praised.

You were greedy like that— to have a big man fawn over you, to have him kiss your temple, whisper a low plea to fuck you. to make you feel good. To take care of your body and have his way with you.

Something he’d never get tired of doing, but things were different this time, he wasn’t there.

“Don’t start that. I know y’love it, darlin’”, he chuckles. “you complain so much, but y’love how big it is, how much it hurts when I push it in, when I rub it between your pussy lips and slide back in your cunt. tell you to shush when you shove at my chest an’ say anything but your safe-word. Whimpering no in that half-breath lie you always do— but you never mean it, cause it hurts so good”.

Heat blooms where ice hardens, wrists almost in sync with their strokes in and out— up and down. His rasp following your flushed mewls as he speaks.

“—I know y’like the pain, baby. You clench my wrist to keep me from pulling out, your eyes roll back. Fuck, I jus’ love the way your tits bounce when you breathe deeply. An’ when I rub circles on your clit with my thumb, your pussy practically drools all over my dick, suckin’ me in even deeper. An’ I jus’ know she wants more. but I ‘ave’to keep my hands on your waist or thighs to keep you from wriggling away from me. cryin’ ‘bout how full you feel, how big it is, how deep it goes. An’ what kills me is when I angle it right, press it in at that soft spot inside, an’ you squirt all over me. shit, that only makes me harder. To feel your pussy spasm on me like that? God I almost nut from that alone. Makes me fuck you deeper, put my hand around your throat to feel you squeeze on me tighter. You’re so hot, my pretty girl, I love the way your body moves against mine. How you cry, moan, call me daddy when I make you cum. You like all of it, you jus’ like to pretend. But it’s cool. I like your games, baby. You’re too cute not to play with”.

Bliss seeps with his name through the phone, desperation rising from his words, his voice, his groans, wetness spilling over the toy as an orgasm builds. “I still need you”, you say through another moan, achingly hot and no way to satiate it, “it-it just feels better that way”.

“ahha, you’re cute when you’re desperate. Means you’re close. Wish I could give you the extra attention this time, darlin’. Tell ya s’okay, an’ suck on your nipples, give you a kiss, but I can’t right now”, he sighs lowly, unable to hide the teasing smirk, “you’re gonna ‘ave’to be a big girl and do it yourself this time. Fuck yourself the way I would. Take my cock like a good girl should. It’s why you’re practicing, remember?”

You fidget, murmuring something along the lines of its not true, but not rebuking any of his words. Not when you continue fucking yourself with the toy slowly, imagining the sultry words he whispered into your ear. your body wound and tense with tingles prickling every inch the ice touches. Its electric, addicting, and not at all like your man, but a decent substitute you grind on, chasing the wave of lust you can feel hum through your core.

“so, you gonna be a big girl?” when you grumble and pout, he cant help but chuckle at you. “c’mon, you’re almost there. Jus’ close your eyes, im right there with you, remember? Your pussy is so warm, I feel her clenching on my cock, desperate for more. halfway jus’ isn’t enough for a sweet cunt like that. That’s why fingering yourself doesn’t do much, you need me fuckin’ you. It s’okay, I’ll fuck you nice an’ good”.

“ahh, shit, babe. I love it when you talk like that”.

Kuzan rests back against the ice block, giving himself a moment to imagine how you’d open your thighs wider, inviting him in deeper with a pleading whimper.

“mo-ore”, you gasp, as if you had the same fantasy of him grinding on top of you. “I c-an take more, baby”.

“I know you can, sweet girl”, he hums, “lift your hips just a lil’ when you push it back in, kay? Slow thrusts- don’t go too fast just yet…yea, darlin’, jus’ like that. Such a good girl, you feel me openin’ you up, huh?” he spits in his palm, smoothing the wet moisture for a softer glide as he rubs his dick to the memory of your cunt pulsing along his veins. The friction creating an even darker desire to touch you. To feel your breath against his lips when he bucks his hips into yours. When he grips your waist to keep you from squirming away from his harsh thrusts. Kuzan groans to the sound of your moans, too pent up but determined to talk you through it anyway.

“s’goo-d, thick- in an’ out…ohh-fuck-ah, ahh.... Its pushi-ing in, Ku-zaan…it’so deep now, fuuck-uhh, it hurts, please, ple-easee—”

“such a good lil’ girl”, he groans, enveloped in the fantasy as he strokes his thick shaft, “Do me a favour and play with your nipples fo’me, I miss them”. When you answer with a strangled moan, he takes it as a good sign. He smirks a little too smugly to hear the wet squelches of your pussy, every glide dribbling sticky slick for the toy to slide in smoother. Deeper… maybe just a little harder if he was the one fucking you.

“your ha-ands are bigger”.

“I know, you gotta pinch them a lil’ harder. Keep your thighs open, don’ run from it. It’s going deeper now, right? Yea, I can tell, mmm- you’re stuttering my name ahah, That’s my girl, you feel me in your belly, yea? I’d push down on your belly; make you feel me deep. Fuckin’ you deep, nnghh, Fu-ck.. that’s hot. Keep sayin’ my name, it makes me so hard”.

“yo-you stroking your dick?”

“yea…not the same though. Your pussy’so much better”.

“swear?”

“of course”, he grunts, bucking his hips into his closed fist, abdomen tensing, ice creeping when his body shudders past control, “not as tight as you, or wet or warm. Shit, it’s nothin’ like you, baby. Nothin’ like your mouth, your pussy or even your hands. But at least you’re thinkin’ of me too”.

“it’s why I called”.

“yea? Shit..nggh- you were touchin’ yourself thinkin’ of me?”

“I-I told you— I wanted to hear your voice”.

He chuckles lowly, chest thundering for a different reason when he hears the softness in your words, “yea? How’s it sound, darlin’?”

“I like hearing you talk. I li-like that noise you make, ahh, when-when you rub your thumb over the slit over-an’-over. You kinda hiss—”

“I hiss?”

your giggle sounds shaky as the dildo drags along your silky walls, “yea, like a kchss noise, like it feels so good you’re tryin’to hold out a lil’ longer. Fuck, I love that noise. Or when your breath stops, like a, uhh. Like-like a hitch. When im suckin’ on your balls or you fe-feel close to cummin’. It’s so hot. You make so many sexy sounds, like-like heavy groans into-into my neck. Or, uhh-shit, baby, you call me pretty, ice misting my…my, er- uhhh, my tits when you breathe hard. Ohh, I lo-ove it, love you touchin’ me”.

“yea?” his breath comes out a little hoarser as he palms his shaft faster, adding the slightest bit of pressure with every stroke to the tip with thick dribbles of pre-cum adding rings along his cock, “what else do y’like?”

“your lips, I like wh-when you kiss me. your ha-ands. Shoulders, chest-est, your scars, I lo-ove touchin’ your body. Like you melt for me, you fall into me when-when I touch you…fuckkk, Kuzan…umm, ahh, I-I like…I like how deep your voice ge-gets when you’re turned on…how easily you lift me, shove me down, carry me, ‘ure so so strong… uhh-uhhh, fuck, ahh, ‘ure balls, love’em. soo. muuchhh. cuummm…love-love cum, in me, love ‘ur cum in me— ohh, ahh, sir, sir you’re s’good. fuuuuckk…er, umm…I..”.

“I’m close, baby”, he grunts, rolling his wrist harder to your moans. his thrusts sloppier, rougher, jerking his throbbing cock shamelessly as you whine and grind on a toy that could never satiate the growing heat in your core. Or keep him from craving the warmth you emit, desperate enough to chase a release that cannot imitate the pulse of your tight heat. “Keep talkin’, lemme- let me hear you”.

“yea…yea, me too. Fuck, it’s’goo…uhh, shit…I love you-you’re dick. It’s so thick, ahh-uhh, the veins…fuck, baby, it’s rubbin’ up against me- inside me. pressin’ me, in me, the two veins I like stroking with my ton-tongue— I fe-el it deep. s’deep, s’bigg…I like how you, ohhh, how you force me to, to take it harder. Hu-urts in the best-best wayyy…I feel full, so so full with you, an’ when you hold me close-closer, tell me you missed me. missed my pussy- I miss you too, miss your fat dick, your kisses, touching— ohh shiiitt, Kuzaan…ple-ease, please- fuck me, fuck me—”

“I am, darlin’”, rough and fast, his abdomen tightens, “y’close, go harder, rub- shit, rub your clit, goddd- you’re wet, so wet fo’me, I can hear it. I hear your pussy sticky an’ wet all’over your wrist, makin’ a huge mess of the sheets. Fuck-fuck, pretty girl ‘ur so addictin’. You gotta cum, don’ be afraid of’it. push ‘ur hips up, angle it jus’ right. y’know how— shit, I wanna spank your clit a lil’, you always tremble from that. Slap your cute face, grip your throat. God-fuuck, y’so small compared to me. sweet girl, dirty fuckin’ girl. My girl. Shit-shit—”

“ohh, ahh- yes, yes—”

Cum splatters.

Saccharine sounds of pleasure quiver through the phone, dousing him in your ecstasy as you cry and buck into the toy, his name drowning beneath the waves of your orgasm that echo from you both. Your moans surging and twisting in a delicious mix of euphoria. The man on the other end releases a heavy sigh, sounding relieved but not entirely satisfied. Not unlike you, fading into the trembles from the squirts of release that washed over you. mewling and squirming in delight.

“Fuuckk”, you giggle.

Kuzan smirks, his heavy breaths not nearly as laboured as yours, listening to you babble and writhe from the intensity that sets your body on high. “such a good girl”, he groans lowly, praising you for your efforts, his release soaking his palm, “you did so well”. The phone connects you to his low husks of the other end, struggling to stay coherent as you moan from your orgasm, the toy slipping out with an audible pop, and he grunts through shallow pumps of his white coated fist. A lazy glide as he thinks about his next destination.

You smile, rolling over to your belly and stretching your limbs out like a sated cat with a belly full of yummy cream. “that was nice”, you coo, “almost had you all the way this time”.

“its cute when you try”, he murmurs, your smile infectious, “I’m glad you called”.

“glad you picked up”, you whisper, fiddling with his shirt sleeve, “I…really wanted to hear you voice”.

Kuzan wipes his hand with a cloth, the distance between you something that bothered him more than anything else now that he had a reminder of what waited for him. “Start practicing your riding, I’ll be home soon”.

You scoff playfully, “my riding? I—”

“Laying on top of me and rolling your hips while I fuck you from below does not count as riding, sweetheart”.

“It does when I bounce my ass a little”.

Kuzan rolls his eyes, adjusting himself back in his pants, “start practicing, an’ I’ll be home in a few short weeks. Maybe you’ll be better by then”.

“Ass”, you laugh, rolling away from the wet mess you made and snuggling into his pillow, your body aching and buzzing, “or maybe, by the time you peddle your slow-ass through the calm-belt, I’ll already be withered and old”.

“I’d still expect a good performance”.

His dry tone makes you snicker, affection blooming through. Kuzan smiles, making his way out of the back of the building, gripping on the phone as if it were his lifeline to you— not at all ready to break the connection. Your voice too comforting to let go.

But he was on his way, he’d be home. He’d be with you. And maybe the ache you created would ebb in your presence.

“so…you’re coming home?”

He smirks, “excited?”

“Concerned! now I have to fix my little radiator before you create an ice-age in my bedroom”, he sneezed unexpectedly once, and you’ve never let him live it down.

“I cleaned it up”.

“you ruined my plants!” you sigh dramatically, a teasing smile etched on your lips.

“I have to go”, he says eventually, your laughter calling him home. “I’ll see you soon”.

“Okay, bye-bye”, you bite your thumb, nervousness stilling the words you meant to say. But you didn’t need to.

“I miss you too, darlin”.

Katchak.

reblogs are appreciated :3

675 notes · View notes